Chronic pain left me housebound and depressed for two years – here’s how I slowly rebuilt my life
For two years, chronic pain left Jacqueline Tan barely able to leave her room. Small daily steps – and the support of therapy – helped her slowly find joy and reclaim parts of her life despite the pain.
What started as a pain in her right knee in 2021 turned into stabbing, piercing and tingling sensations, and numbness all over her body, which were random and unpredictable. (Photo: iStock/KanaiPixel)
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Finding myself “on the couch” and baring my soul to a mental health therapist wasn’t a situation I’d ever imagined to be in, but I remember that first visit in mid-2023 well – the picture of me sprawled on a chaise longue. Therapy was, admittedly, my last bastion of hope.
For more than a year before that, I had been living with mysterious chronic pain – it got so debilitating that I sank into despair (and depression) after countless hospital visits bore no answers.
From rheumatology to orthopaedics, neurology, gynaecology and pain management, I was referred from one department to another – and hospital visits became part of my weekly routine.
Multiple blood tests, a one-and-a-half-hour magnetic resonance imaging scan for multiple sclerosis and two full-body bone scans later, doctors gave me the “good news”. Nothing was particularly amiss – just the usual wear and tear due to ageing, I was told.
Each time, the doctor would ask if I wanted a referral to see a psychiatrist instead. The lack of a conclusive diagnosis soon made me wish I’d been slapped with a life-threatening diagnosis – at least I would have an answer.
IT STARTED WITH AN ACHE
The pain started innocuously enough in early 2021, when I felt an ache in my right knee. I was quick to put it down to “ageing” (after all, it was not uncommon to hear of the same complaint from friends my age). I was then 49.
But as the months wore on, the pain took on a life of its own and spread to my left knee, arms, legs and even my ribs. I started to experience stabbing, piercing, tingling sensations, and numbness all over my body – the symptoms and flare-ups were random and unpredictable.
It got so excruciating that I stopped going out, stepping out of my bedroom only at mealtimes or to use the bathroom. I could barely get out of bed and lay there writhing in pain and discomfort.
My boss at that time was kind enough to allow me to work from home, but as I struggled to sit at my desk for long periods, I ended up working mostly in bed.
I lost my appetite, suffered from brain fog and found it difficult to do simple chores like folding my clothes because of the numbness in my hands. Even taking a shower became a chore. My physical strength was draining away like a battery that refused to be charged.
I was constantly teary and anxious. I was no longer the cheerful and optimistic person that I was.
I’d led a fulfilling life working in a non-profit organisation before my illness, conducting workshops at schools and companies, and working with student interns. Outside of work, I kept an active social calendar.
All that disappeared almost overnight when chronic pain took control – I thought my life was over.
DIAGNOSED WITH CHRONIC FATIGUE SYNDROME
Desperate for an answer, I turned to private doctors, including one specialising in pain management. After going through rounds of blood tests at the clinic, I was diagnosed with myalgic encephalomyelitis or ME, more commonly known as chronic fatigue syndrome or CFS.
It was a relief to finally put a name to my condition after two years.
In CFS, one is trapped in a body that treats everyday brain processing as a monumental physical task. Researchers believe the brain is locked in a fight or flight mode, leaving you feeling totally hollowed out from the inside.
Patients with CFS suffer from extreme exhaustion, the kind of fatigue that does not get better with rest or sleep. Symptoms may worsen with physical or mental activity. The cause of it remains largely unknown.
There is no single test to confirm a diagnosis – patients need to undergo different medical tests to rule out other conditions with similar symptoms.
I was prescribed nerve pills for the pain and antidepressants – four different ones over the next few months – for my low mood. Both did little to ease my symptoms. Instead of feeling better, I found myself spiralling deeper into despair.
A possible treatment for chronic fatigue syndrome – blood plasma injections that involve extracting the patient’s blood cells to accelerate healing in a specific area – costs thousands of dollars and was beyond what I could afford.
In Singapore, one in 12 people live with chronic pain – an invisible disease. A 2026 study by Michigan State University published in the journal Science Immunology, found that 60 to 70 per cent of chronic pain sufferers globally are women.
GETTING MENTAL HEALTH THERAPY
Then, sometime in mid-2023, just when I was at the end of my tether, a visit to a general practitioner near my home offered a glimmer of hope. The doctor listened to my symptoms intently, and was patient and empathetic. She gave me space to be vulnerable.
I shared my physical symptoms, my depression and frustrations at not being able to find a solution to my condition. I saw her about three to four times, and at each visit, I would bawl my eyes out.
I eventually took up her suggestion to see a mental health therapist who has experience in journeying with patients with chronic pain.
Doing talk therapy (also known as psychotherapy) for two-and-a-half years helped me more than I ever thought it would, even though progress – as my therapist reminds me – is not always linear.
I learnt to “reset” my nervous system via cognitive behavioural therapy, which is known to help with long-term pain – the therapist guides you to change the way you think and act.
I also learnt short meditations focusing on breath work and “being present”, which involved setting aside 10-15 minutes to just “be”.
With my therapist’s gentle nudging, I started to take short walks, beginning with a 10-minute walk in my neighbourhood three to four times a week. It was her way of getting me to step out of the house again after two years.
REGAINING POCKETS OF JOY
Before I even realised it, I was taking longer walks and venturing beyond my neighbourhood on some days. In early 2024, my physical strength gradually returned. My pain doctor had also managed to find an antidepressant that worked for me, so my mood improved.
Every bit of progress I made felt like a little miracle.
As I became more intentional about gaining strength and mobility, little pockets of joy started trickling back into my life.
I met with close friends and family again at my favourite chai and coffee joints, and even attended small social gatherings after a two-year absence. I gradually went back to the things I used to love, like going to concerts and movies, and resuming my volunteer outreach work to migrant workers.
While I have found therapy beneficial for my pain and mood management, this is not to say CFS patients should avoid medication altogether. I was fortunate to find a doctor who listened and believed me, and who patiently helped me navigate the minefield of medical advice and different treatment options.
Am I brave and resilient – as I’ve been told often – for coming this far?
Far from it. There are the silent struggles no one sees; the extra effort and energy needed to get ready before stepping out of the house, the guilt that comes with sometimes cancelling plans at the last minute, the constant worry about facing an “uncertain” future.
Truth is, I still grieve for my old life and for what life could have been before illness took a hit.
Having come this far as a person living with an invisible disability has changed my definition of what being “brave” means.
It’s the little steps I take each day to live life and not let the pain – which is bearable on some days but morphs into an untamed beast on others – take control.
Small victories matter a lot now, like getting out of bed, brewing chai or prepping a simple meal at home, getting dressed in my favourite outfit, taking longer walks, reading a few chapters of a novel each day, and even being honest about my condition with friends I have not seen in a while.
I cherish community care – the unfaltering support from close friends and family – all the more now. The love and support I have received has seen me through the darkest days.
In the early days, I stayed away from even close friends as I was ashamed of being a total wreck and didn’t want to be a burden, but they persisted in reaching out with tenderness and care. It took me a while to learn that there’s really no shame in struggling.
I may never find a cure for my chronic illness, but for now, I have learnt to live alongside it without letting it define me. Just simply showing up each day is enough.
CNA Women is a section on CNA Lifestyle that seeks to inform, empower and inspire the modern woman. If you have women-related news, issues and ideas to share with us, email CNAWomen [at] mediacorp.com.sg.
Source: CNA/pc
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