I’ve been thinking this week about pain. For most people pain is an alarm signal from their body. It exists to bring attention to something gone wrong or as a warning to not do that thing again.
For those of us with chronic pain conditions that signal can be a constant background noise. When an alarm sounds constantly it becomes stripped of its meaning. It doesn’t stop being irritating but it does get downgraded from a stab of panic, and the accompanying burst of adrenaline, to a dull, grating, near-constant anxiety.
For the most part it’s not pain that stops me from doing things. Almost everything I do is painful. Some days are more painful than others and some kinds of pain are more tiring or distressing than others but that’s not the problem. It’s the mental strain of dealing with the pain that holds me back.
And for most people with a chronic pain condition there’s also the lying. Or perhaps I should call it acting or maybe pretending. There’s usually no point in telling people how much pain we’re in. They can’t do much to relive it and most of them don’t really care. It’s impossible to prove that we’re in that much pain so it’s easier for them to believe that we’re exaggerating.
There’s an underlying assumption that comes with civilisation that all problems are soluble. That’s why so many people want to believe that ‘Big Pharma’ is covering up a cure for cancer and that most unemployed people could find work if they just had the gumption. It’s so easy to fall into the trap of believing that we are the masters of our fate. People like me are proof that bad stuff can happen at any time and for no reason.
Most of us cover our pain up. We don’t talk about it. We minimise it, downplay it and lie about it if we have to. Sometimes we do that when people could help. Sometimes the pain is less painful than watching someone else feel bad about the pain. And there’s always the fear that if you’re honest about the pain that you’ll drive people away. Either because they don’t want you to be dependant on them or because they can’t bear to watch you suffer.
Well I think I’ve depressed everyone enough for one day. You may now go back to whatever you were doing before I distracted you. But if you feel like buying me a coffee to cheer me up you can visit the Ko-Fi website to do it.