Pain

by | Jun 18, 2020 | mental health, Pain, survival

Pain

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Pain.

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I have no snappy titles today because all I feel is pain.

words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words

Pain.

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Quiet pain, loud pain, consuming pain.

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Neverending pain.

It’s a funny thing, pain. Everyone’s felt it but do they, can they, ever understand how you feel? The concept of tolerance is a real thing. Some can handle high amounts of pain and others are felled by a paper cut. I think it’s fair to say that my tolerance has increased somewhat over the years. I used to feel everything as though it was the worst pain ever. Now? If it’s not a seven it’s not even a blip on my radar.

Pain is so personal I feel. We can all have a headache or a stubbed toe but the pain we feel is not the same. It’s unique to us, like a fingerprint. Your seven may not be the same as my seven. Your seven may be my three or four and my seven may be someone else’s two.

Pain.

It’s like a drum beat or a whirring engine that never stops. I wish it would stop.

Pain.

Did you know that there are some people who can’t feel pain? Like, at all? It’s something to do with the endorphins in the brain I think, I’m not really sure, science was never really my thing. But those people genuinely feel nothing, they’re completely numb. How nice that must be, although it comes with its own set of problems.

I’ve learned to ignore my pain for the most part. It’s a constant shadow lurking around but it does no good to dwell. If people ask I always say, “I’m fine”, because, what else do you say? It’s the standard answer really. Nobody wants to know about all of my aches and ailments every day and frankly, not talking about them allows me to pretend that they’re not there. It may be said through gritted teeth but I will say it and mean it. The day I don’t say it, is the day when I’m screaming internally (or externally) because all of my nerve endings are on fire and the feeling of clothes on my skin is like a million paper cuts and taking a shower is like being stabbed with a thousand knives. Also known affectionately as Hell on Earth.

Those are the days I’d prefer to forget. The days when I hate everything and wish this ridiculous illness never existed. When I have to bite my tongue and resist snapping at everyone around me because it’s not their fault that I’m broken. It’s not mine either but that’s no huge comfort really. Or maybe it is? Perhaps it’s karma for some slight or offense caused in a different time, one that I can’t remember, but clearly won’t be allowed to forget. Perhaps I’m just looking for meaning for something where there is none.

The drum beats on and on.

This is my life now. I’ve accepted this as I’ve accepted other things and I deal with it as best I can because I want to actually live my life not just survive it, but some days…….some days survival is the win. It’s funny what you can get used to. Not funny haha but, you know.

I survived today. Tomorrow I’ll live. In pain, but I’ll live.

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