A Memory of Pain

I have no memory of life without pain.

I am sure, before I was hit with my cascade of health problems, that there was life without pain.

But I can’t find it in my mental map.

The pain, it is just, so normal to me.

It is part of all I am, all I do, all I think, all I feel, all of me.

First, there was the mental pain, the anguish deep inside, the screaming and the wailing of the soul.

I finally found relief for that pain, and then the physical pain began.

The achy bones when the weather would shift.

Then the fatigue.

Followed by an onslaught of more pain, testing for so many things, knees that hurt, shoulders that hurt, a back that would give under me from the pain.

After that the gnawing inside, the burning, the shooting, the stabbing, and please, where is the bathroom so this pain will lesson?

And all along, the mental pain tagging along, sometimes getting brutal again, finally setting into a dull background roar that ever threatened to return in full.

I trudge through life, often going into survival mode, trying to do that one more thing before I collapse.

I wonder how other people around me can fit so much in a day, in a week, in a month.

Doesn’t this pain stop them?

My mental map is so pervasive, I can’t even imagine what it must be like to be pain free, to not have to hurt with every step I take, every dish I wash, every report I write.

I can’t even imagine.

I have no memory of life without pain.

Advertisements

10 responses to “A Memory of Pain

  1. If you don’t mind me asking, how did you find relief from the mental pain?

    I hope that someday (even just for one day) you enjoy the peace of being pain free.
    A brutally honest post and anyone reading it while pain free should be thankful for what they have.

  2. soft gentle hugs for you my friend;
    many of your words express how my grief over losing Brandon feels but mine is the mental anguish. Not so much the physical aspects now- except when waves of nauseau hit or the tears flow unwillingly- but the “dull background roar” hits a strikingly similiar chord…wish I could erase your pain completely for I have the memories of life with Brandon that I hope I never forget….love you and your honesty…

  3. How do I find relief from the mental pain? Wow, thought provoking question. I have what I now know is a genetically based physiological depression, probably part of the fibro. Compounded by chronic illness and its aftermath. What has helped is counseling, medication (Effexor and Ritalin (I also have ADHD), the latter actually helps more), exercise, and helping others. My job really helps because I help students access their world and communicate and it keeps me from focusing too much on myself. My faith also really helps. The medication though, is the essential element. I wish I could tolerate a higher dose of stuff because when I have tried I really do feel much better, but the side effects are a killer.

  4. A really brave blog, it takes a lot of courage to put your thoughts out there. I had a fleeting feeling of being pain free during an infusion and i couldn’t stop crying it was so overwhelming. Thinking of you and hoping tomorrow it’s just a little better

  5. i feel a deep sadness reading tis blog today.
    May God hold you in the palms of His gentle hands

  6. I do remember my life before pain, unfortunately it just reminds me how awful life can be these days. Thank you for sharing your thoughts x

  7. I have had emotional pain all my life too – the physical pain came when i was about 16, triggered by exams. I think i was about 5 years old the last time i was without pain, but that could just be me wanting to believe i was a happy child! x

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s