I haven’t written anything in a long time. I’ve waited for months, then years, for the time when I’d feel good enough to start writing again — but here I am still waiting. There have been good stretches where I probably could have got some work done, but there was so many things to catch up on, other dreams I wanted to chase, fun to be had. I see how rusty my writing has become.
I stand before my keyboard today mostly in hopes that by dumping out all my pent up feelings that have come with all I’ve gone through in the past 3-4 years it might bring about some kind of emotional/psychological release. I draw inspiration from Riz Ahmed’s character in Sound of Metal where he sits down in a small room with nothing but a table, pen, and paper, and all the time in the world.
For the past few years I have lived with chronic pain. Even that sentence is difficult to type, as if somehow it reduces my chances for ever becoming the person I was before the pain. It makes me think about what George Clooney was told by his pain management “guy,” as he called him: ‘You can’t mourn for how you used to feel, because you’re never going to feel that way again.’ I still do hope pretty much every minute of every day that I’ll have no pain, or less pain, and on good days I do sometimes enjoy little to no pain. Or at least I am distracted enough that that pain becomes a tiny whisper in the background, almost inaudible.
My rented Taco I drove on the way up to Haleakalā National Park in Maui.
I remember a few times where I threw myself on the ground and cried out to God to take away my pain, to show me mercy. I bargained with him offering my life to his service if he would just make my head stop hurting. There were many days where I waited for nothing else but the day to be over and to go to bed, in the hopes that tomorrow I would feel better. Sometimes I did, sometimes I didn’t. The “magic bullet” that cures chronic pain for good has still eluded me, although there have been some times when there has been a sudden change from being in pain, to being in no pain, that didn’t require medication or any kind of physical treatment – they were all emotional or psychological.
Some pain psychologists will all tell you that the best method to get over chronic pain is to ignore it. To not do exactly what it is you want most – wish for the pain to go away. In fact, they even teach you to welcome the pain and lean into it. If that sounds backwards, you’re not alone. I still feel that way every time I hear that message, and I have had it drilled into my head over many counseling sessions.
I tried everything. The best that modern medicine had to offer as well as some alternative remedies from the far East. Some therapies were more effective than others. I think a lot of the time I just felt better getting out of the house and seeing someone who acted like they cared and who gave me hope that I could get better.
It’s hard. When the pain is too great and overwhelming that you can’t even leave your house or go for a short walk outside, the mind easily drifts into despair and anger. But I know as I type this that there are people who are in much greater pain than I ever was, and potentially will have to carry that for their entire lives. And that is something I tried to remind myself when I would have really tough pain days, but sometimes, you just fantasize about being able to do everything you did when you were healthy.
My favorite photo of all-time. Taken with my Pixel 3 somewhere in Le Marais district of Paris.
For me, my pain wasn’t just purely physical. I had gotten myself into a position in life where I was unhappy and the outlook was bleak. My life had been shrunk by my pain. And the more of your life that your pain takes away, the more pain you feel. So I had to fight back. I had to slowly integrate the things I loved to do back into my life. I was fortunate that I had the time and money to see the specialists who could help me do this. Both physical medicine and mental health practitioners. I am afraid to think of what would have happened if I dd not have the resources to get help.
Pain is a weird concept to think about. It’s a essentially a danger signal that helps keep us alive, but on the flip side, it can also be the most maddening, unbearable sensation a human body can experience. It almost seems cruel that we are built this way when you think about how much pain a human being’s central nervous system is capable of feeling. But we were also gifted with resilience and an ability to dig down deep into the mental trenches of our psyche to endure these most uncomfortable moments when we really need. And maybe that is the great equalizer.
I was told by my therapist that pain is “just a sensation.” I agreed that it is, but it’s not one I want to feel. I’ve been fortunate to have been exposed to many of the different mental strategies for coping with pain, but for me, it’s hard for it not to take the enjoyment out of things – at least when it gets really bad. But there are times when you just have to fight through the pain or change the way you think about your pain to get through your day, to continue living your life. Sometimes when you bear the pain to do something you really love, you feel better. Other times your pain gets turned up a couple of notches on the “ouch that really sucks” dial and you wonder if it was worth it. I think it almost always is because you can’t live in fear of your pain – that’s when you really get in trouble.
Epic cloudy day in Orange County, California.
I look at people exercising or competing in athletics who seemingly have no fear of injury or pain and I envy them. Especially athletes who come back from major surgeries or rehabs and then go back into brutal full contact sports like hockey or football. I wonder if they worry about getting re-injured or subconsciously protect their injured areas. I wonder if I’ve just become too careful with my body because of all I’ve gone through, and I need to move and trust my body as I did before this all happened.
Fortunately I found an amazing physical therapist, Dr. Spencer Lee, who works at the Irvine branch of IPA Physio. After about 2 months of weekly sessions I am starting to get back to being my old self. I can do some light exercise now, and though I still have pain every day, it’s much more manageable. Sometimes I have stretches where I don’t really feel any pain, and in those moments I feel so happy that I don’t have to suffer, but I also worry about when the pain will return, and if my condition will regress.
So did writing this piece bring about the emotional release I was looking for? It has been therapeutic, and looking at what I wrote I have learned or revisited some of my fears and negative thinking tendencies about my pain. It feels really good to be able to write again, to feel the comfortable surroundings of WordPress, and to read by own writing and be pleased with my work. I thank God and the universe for allowing me to blog again.
