In the Land of Pain
There isn't a sign. It's more like the floor drops out from under you, and there you are in the Land of Pain. I wrote The Pain Companion to try to make sense of my sudden and unplanned detour there.
I wrote because I was drowning. I was drowning in physical pain with no end in sight. I looked around my tiny house and it seemed that my whole life had shrunk to that lilliputian size. I had given up almost everything because my condition demanded it. I had contracted my life, shrunk down within it, and withdrawn out of necessity since almost every activity other than walking made it worse.
I sat in my house and felt the fear of disappearing forever inside my own house of pain. I can't let this happen, I thought. I cannot become this pain. And yet, it seemed that in many ways I already had. Pain and Thoracic Outlet Syndrome dictated everything about my life.
I was losing myself.
I wrote because I was drowning. I was drowning in physical pain with no end in sight. I looked around my tiny house and it seemed that my whole life had shrunk to that lilliputian size. I had given up almost everything because my condition demanded it. I had contracted my life, shrunk down within it, and withdrawn out of necessity since almost every activity other than walking made it worse.
I sat in my house and felt the fear of disappearing forever inside my own house of pain. I can't let this happen, I thought. I cannot become this pain. And yet, it seemed that in many ways I already had. Pain and Thoracic Outlet Syndrome dictated everything about my life.
I was losing myself.
No Known Exit Code
Pain had become the air I breathed, the ground I walked on. Pain was both the prison and the guard. If you have been in pain for any length of time, you know what I mean. Changing your attitude might make the cell a little more comfortable, but it doesn't necessarily provide the key to the cell door. There is a secret exit code that nobody seems to know, but which cannot be bypassed.
Some people have said to me Oh, how great to have all that free time! Um. No. If you have a body that works well and isn't in pain, more time to do nothing would doubtless be a blessing. But all that "free time" in which to sit or lie or walk slowly in intense pain...not so much.
I write to throw a voice out from the submerged world of pain. Not to bring pain out into the world, but to allow myself a way to reconnect, to feel less invisible, to cast a line out from the depths. If it catches somewhere, or if someone connects with it, maybe I can use it to haul myself back out again because there is no obvious door out of the inner wells of chronic pain.
Some people have said to me Oh, how great to have all that free time! Um. No. If you have a body that works well and isn't in pain, more time to do nothing would doubtless be a blessing. But all that "free time" in which to sit or lie or walk slowly in intense pain...not so much.
I write to throw a voice out from the submerged world of pain. Not to bring pain out into the world, but to allow myself a way to reconnect, to feel less invisible, to cast a line out from the depths. If it catches somewhere, or if someone connects with it, maybe I can use it to haul myself back out again because there is no obvious door out of the inner wells of chronic pain.
Staying Visible
Those of us in persistent pain sometimes keep ourselves small and silent so we won't infect the world, thinking that if we speak it can only be with the voice of pain, and therefore it will only create more. As if we can't re-enter the world until we are pain free.
But we must find ways to re-include ourselves in the world somehow. Maybe only in small ways at first, and according to our physical limitations, but it is something I feel we must do. We are part of the collective, a community within a community, and it is important to give voice to our experiences.
It is important not to let the invisibility of our pain become the invisibility of ourselves.
But we must find ways to re-include ourselves in the world somehow. Maybe only in small ways at first, and according to our physical limitations, but it is something I feel we must do. We are part of the collective, a community within a community, and it is important to give voice to our experiences.
It is important not to let the invisibility of our pain become the invisibility of ourselves.
Thank you for reading! Please feel free to forward this post to others.
Sarah Anne Shockley is the author of The Pain Companion series of books on holistic pain management and pain relief and a regular columnist for Pain News Network.
Visit her at www.thepaincompanion.com for resources for people in chronic pain and more information on her work. |