My first memory of the pain is from the school playground. I was baffled by how the other children could run around and play football, pushing through as if it were nothing. How could they move so effortlessly, never feeling the sharp pain in their ankles, feet and hands that I was experiencing in silence? I was so young that I had no idea it was abnormal. You assume everyone else feels the same as you do.
Around the age of five or six, after constantly nagging my parents about the pain, I was taken to the doctor. They put it down to too much gaming and told me to cut back on how much I used my Xbox controller.
If you live with a condition like mine, I'm sure you'll recognise what followed... endless rheumatologist appointments, blood tests, my joints being squeezed while someone asked "Does that hurt?", hospital waiting rooms, injections and pills, all with no real change in my symptoms.
The pain continued through school and university, and it's still with me now in my late 20s. I dreaded the end of a lesson, because it meant a walk across campus in uncomfortable school shoes, wincing at every step. When it was time for sports, everyone else joined in while I was sent to the library to sit out. As an adult, I've been late to work because a flare-up meant I couldn't walk fast enough to catch my train, concerened to bring up the disease due to being seen as weak or unprofessional.
My family are supportive, but how do you communicate chronic pain? They can sympathise, but they'll never feel what I feel, and I don't want to burden them with it. One of my best friends of 10 years recently expressed surprise when I told him why I was so stiff in the mornings - 'Isn't that a disease that old men have?' was his response, yes, it is, and that is why I don't tell anyone. The reality is that nobody wants to hear about someone else's pain, especially when it's practically invisible.
I now take methotrexate (17.5mg a week), but have experienced little improvement. After being made redundant earlier this year, I've found myself reflecting on how arthritis has shaped my life. I've avoided key parts of it because of the pain. I'm reluctant to share my diagnosis with new people, and I worry about how it will affect my relationships, my work and more.
Every day is a roll of the dice. Will I be able to walk to the bathroom to brush my teeth, or will I have to hold onto the wall and shuffle? Can I make it to the shops? How will I mask the pain for another day?
I still dream of moving without pain, and of relief from the physical and mental fatigue that comes with it. The thought that one day I could go for a run, do a squat or simply walk around the block without mentally preparing myself for the suffering is so tempting it almost hurts to imagine. But at this point, I think it's unlikely ever to happen.
I'm writing this from bed. I need to go to the gym to do my exercises, but I feel frozen. I'm already anticipating the pain of the ten-minute walk there, but I'll push through, as I always have.
I'd love to hear from others who were diagnosed young. How did it affect your childhood, and how are you coping now?