This really does not feel like my story to tell, but my sister has been struggling with pain over the last few days. After the night in the hospital, she was told to manage the pain with medicine and wait for it to get better. Yesterday, she had a friend come over “to help out” but ended up watching movies instead. Our dishes were piling up and needed to be done soon, but she was in no condition to do them. I planned to do the dishes when I got home from work, but another friend came by to bring my sister lunch and helped with our dishes before she left. I cannot express how grateful I am for the people that care for us, check in with us, and express their love and concern. It definitely means a lot, especially when we are struggling.
We did church with more of our family today. It was fun to have us all together and be able to share Mother’s day. Afterwards we watched a devotional about mothers. It was inspiring, and I liked how it talked about finding happiness and sitting with others through their pain. That is what being a mother is all about- learning to balance your own needs while making sacrifices for the ones you love.
Pain teaches you things. Sometimes, the more intense the pain is, the more it teaches you. Today I have been in excruciating pain, and I have been thinking about the lessons pain has taught me.
- My body is amazing. Sometimes we tell ourselves how much we hate our bodies because they are not what we want them to be. When it becomes hard to move because of pain, you realize just how amazing your body really is.
- My body needs just as much love as I do. I learned this by unintentionally starving my body. Eating causes me pain and time is a short commodity, so I simply did not eat meals for two weeks. By the time I realized what was happening, my body needed a whole lot of love to get back to normal.
- Everyone suffers. Most of the time, no one knows I am in pain. I resist the urge to slide to the floor and curl up in fetal position when I’m talking to someone. It has made me wonder how many other people resist similar urges and what unseen pain they may be suffering.
- You may never fully understand the power of a hug. When I am in intense pain, physical touch can sometimes be unwelcome. But a hug is almost always something I want. A hug releases some of the tension, alleviates some of the pain, and above all, let’s me know I’m not alone.
- Compassion and empathy. Everyone experiences pain differently, but because I know what pain feels like for me, I can sympathize when you describe what pain feels like for you.
- Gratitude. When I have a good day, when I feel well enough to do something extra, when pain doesn’t describe my state of being, I am so grateful. It makes me grateful for the little things like being able to stand and able to eat and sleep, etc.
- Pain is temporary. Even though I am almost always in some kind of pain, I have realized that the intense pain is temporary. It may feel unbearable in the moment, but eventually it will become bearable again.
- Sleep is my friend. Sometimes I delay sleeping because of depression. Sleeping seems like a darkness that I do not want to enter, but sleeping almost always helps me feel better.
- People care. Pain didn’t really teach me that people care, people taught me that they care. But pain made me realize and notice people caring.
- Service. Pain makes you realize the frailty of life. It helps you realize what is most important. To me, what is most important is other people. If I can make someone’s life better, if I can make them a little happier, if I can help someone, I want to do it. My pain does not disqualify me from trying to help someone else.
I went to a devotional tonight and was able to listen to the testimony and music of an amazing group of singers. I wasn’t sure if I should go because I have been lying in fetal position since I got home from church. But after going, I realized that music helps you forget about the pain for a little bit. I remembered the pain again when the music ended, but for that brief moment, I forgot about the pain.
That’s the power of music. It helps us forget about what’s hurting us. It helps us forget about the pain. I am so grateful for that. I am grateful for the relief and release music gives me.
Sometimes I have no words to describe what I’m going through. Sometimes I don’t have the strength or peace of mind to put my thoughts into words. And sometimes words alone are inadequate to express my feelings and thoughts. I am grateful that in those times, I can sing the words of my heart. Sometimes it is through someone else’s song, and sometimes it is my own song. Either way, I am grateful for the expression of the heart that music gives me.
I am grateful for good music that uplifts, inspires, and heals my heart. I am grateful for the songs I have been given over the years to express myself. I am grateful for the opportunity to listen to positive messages through music, and for the wordless messages that are sometimes just as powerful. Music has been and will continue to be a powerful force for good in my life, and I am so grateful for that.
I may not register pain in the same way other people do because I do not know what it is like to NOT be in pain.
My life has been filled with pain and so I sometimes don’t really realize when I am in pain or why I am in pain. I experience pain from sounds, sights, emotions, stress, touch. Normal everyday life constantly causes me pain. Sometimes it is bearable and sometimes it is unbearable, but it is always there.
So when people say that people with autism don’t experience pain or don’t register pain, I cringe inside. When life is pain, how could you not experience pain? The thing is though, when life is pain, how do you know the difference between the pain of sensory disturbance and pain that signifies a medical condition? How do you know when the pain is preventable and when it’s not? How do you know that pain is a sign that something is wrong when your body is constantly telling you that the world is wrong?
To me, there are many different types of pain and sometimes one pain can masquerade as another pain. Sometimes I feel a tingling pain like when your foot falls asleep, only it happens when someone touches me. Sometimes I feel stabbing or throbbing pain when I hear a loud or prolonged noise. Sometimes I feel a dull ache when I’ve been in the same room for too long. Sometimes I feel a choking pain like the gripping pain of frostbite when I see someone else hurting or lonely.
All of these types of pains are normal to me. I feel them nearly every day. However, they can also signify that something is wrong. They can be signs of a medical condition or a danger in the environment. The problem is telling the difference. The problem is knowing when your normal pains aren’t normal.
So before you think that someone won’t be able to feel pain because they self injure or because they don’t seem to respond to pain, maybe think about some other reasons they may not seem to feel pain. Lack of emotion to pain doesn’t necessarily mean that the pain isn’t felt. It just may not be fully understood.