I have been thinking a lot about pain lately, and giving
everything that has happened recently… I suppose that isn’t surprising. I have
been wondering what pain is and all the ways it might present itself… or how
we, as people, react to it.
After googling the word “pain” I read the following on Wikipedia:
“Pain is an unpleasant feeling often caused by intense or damaging stimuli, such as stubbing a toe,
burning a finger, putting alcohol on a cut, and bumping the "funny
bone".[1] The International Association for the Study of Pain's widely
used definition states: "Pain is an unpleasant
sensory and emotional experience associated with actual or potential
tissue damage, or described in terms of such damage."[2]
Pain motivates the individual to withdraw
from damaging situations, to protect
a damaged body part while it heals, and to avoid similar experiences in the
future.[3] Most pain resolves promptly once the painful stimulus is
removed and the body has healed, but sometimes
pain persists despite removal of the stimulus and apparent healing of the body;
and sometimes pain arises in the absence of any detectable stimulus, damage or
disease.[4]”
Some of those points really stuck with me. Pain IS
unpleasant. And it IS damaging. Pain causes us to go on the defense and PROTECT
ourselves… our heart, our injured limb, our mind… whatever may have been hurt
by a damaging stimuli. What struck me about this passage is that I felt
like it was speaking to my mind/heart AND to my body. It also addresses the
point that sometimes we are in pain without knowing or detecting any direct
cause or stimuli for that pain.
I have thought about my reaction to pain, and I assume, many
others reaction to it. The common response of protection or defense… we “fight
through the pain.” We tell ourselves things like, “What doesn’t kill you makes
you stronger” and “No pain, no gain.” This thought process… “To never give up,
never give in, and never surrender” may be useful in most cases, but what about
those in which pain is ongoing. Those in which pain is a chronic condition.
What about the emotional loss of a person that will never return? What about a
chronic illness? What about a terminal illness? What about the things that will
never get better… What about progressive pain?
In my present life, I have had to change my thinking on pain
a little. The truth is I am not beating AS. I will have it forever. There is no
cure. And “fighting it” seems to actually get me nowhere. As I believe I have
mentioned before on this blog… someone once told me to no longer fight something
that is, but to work with it. Accept that it is there and ask myself what there
is to be done with it. What do I need right now?
It’s become a concept that I have had to apply to very many
aspects of my life in the past year. I have felt so suffocated and lost in pain;
I was not sure how I would ever return to myself. I was lost in waves of
emotions and uncontrollable anxiety like nothing I had ever felt before. I
would cry and wail until I was numb. I would sit and stare. I would lose sleep
or have vivid nightmares… and the more I tried to “fight it” the more it seemed
to rage on.
Picture something with me… You lay still on the ground. You completely
relax your body and mind to the best of your ability. You notice a humming in
your body. The humming increases to a twinge and before you know it, it is full
on radiating and shooting pain. This pain may be in your hip, back, shoulder,
knee… or it could be in your wondering mind, or broken heart. But it is there.
And you notice it. You notice the ache or the panic and it’s all you can think
about. You are no longer relaxed or clear minded. You are overtaken by the unpleasant
sensation of pain. Now instead of trying to fight that pain or forget about
this overwhelming sensation… create a box around it. Recognize that it is there
and give it a place. Put it in the box you made. Picture that box and take
notice to that area, and do so with purpose…now, address the rest of your body.
There are many types of pain we can avoid or “fight,” but the plain and simple
fact is that some pain is inevitable. For the pain that you can’t fight; the
pain rushes into you and stays with you… What if you let it in? What if you let
yourself acknowledge the pain rather than fight it or ignore it? What if you
accept that the pain is there and that you may or may not know the cause of
that pain? What if you put that pain in a box, you hold that box, and you say, “I
see you. I hear you. I will work with you.”
There will be times where the pain is too much to put in a
box… It may be spilling everywhere. So, let it out. Scream, cry, shake… let
that energy flow out. When it’s too much to contain in the box, let it out. And
when the dust settles, try again. What if acknowledgement is the key? What if
we let ourselves take notice to the bound up and twisted things inside of us.
What if we do our best to isolate them while still acknowledging their presence?
With AS. I have been given the curse, and ultimately the
gift, of learning how to live with pain. To learn how to work with myself to
accept pain and keep it isolated, minimal, and as controlled as possible.
Sometimes, pain flares…both in AS and any other physical or emotional pain. There
are overwhelming moments. But I have begun to try and FEEL all of the things
that have happened to me in the last year. I have been carrying so much pain
with me… burying it and digging it up. I have rolled in the dirt of it… and
now? Now, I am putting it in a box. I know that I can’t get rid of all the pain
that has accumulated from my AS, from my divorce, from my aunt dying, and from
my father’s cancer diagnosis. I know that I cannot stop missing people or
loving people or wishing things had happened a different way. But, I also know
that I have to life with what is and that pain has a space.
Now, when I feel my emotional pain, I try to settle myself
long enough to imagine acknowledging the pain and putting it in a box. A box so
that it will not spread and take over the happiness and healthiness I have left
in my body. I will store that box for when I need it and try to lighten the
load of what I carry on a daily basis. But I know that its mine… I still have
it and, come to find, it is easily accessed. Maybe the best way to move on is to fall… to
acknowledge the dark places and pain and suffering in you. You can’t rise above
something until you have been under it, or at least with it. Maybe this is
truly the way to “protect a damaged body
part while it heals, and to avoid similar experiences in the future.” To
acknowledge pain may protect us in the long run.
Find your pain, build your boxes, and pack up… Come with me,
it’s time to move on.
XOXO
Amanda
