Chronic Pain, you are No friend of mine.
No matter what “new modality” or “treatment”. I have yet
to encounter any “support group” that will allow for or support screaming as a coping mechanism.
Perhaps the loneliest feeling is that no one outside of those of us
who live with a certain level of pain understand how it comes to control our lives. Our friends think we’ve fallen off the planet because we don’t socialize. Our families see its effects and fear we’ve fallen into a depression (which many of us do). Our partners suffer from caregiver burnout and have their hearts broken watching us become increasingly isolated.
I am angry at my pain. I have given up “talking” to it. My pain is not reasonable, nor is it something I’ve “earned” by abusing my body. It is not a badge of honour, it is a component of pathology. The disease lay dormant within my genetic code like an invading force until it was ready to unleash it’s fury. It has a language that only I can understand. When it becomes uncontrollable, my only recourse is to isolate myself and make an attempt at medicating it down to a level I can function within.
Chronic pain has not made me brave, nor has it built character. I feel, (like so many of us) that it has made me invisible. Medical practitioners are not taught to effectively deal with nor treat chronic pain. We are often dismissed as a psychiatric referral. Living with pain has taught me so much about the person I am at my core. I am stronger than I ever knew, and more fragile than I ever imagined possible.