The Perspective Pain Brings

I am currently living my biggest fear but I am learning how to keep going

I think about death a lot.

I honestly think about it more than most healthy people should. I’m someone who has somehow outrun the black dog of depression for years, but who often sees it lurking in the periphery every day. Recently, I’ve been afflicted with nonstop tension headaches that feel like unending migraines. Apparently, a bad reaction to a medication, coupled with the stress of my work, means I have been grinding my teeth so hard that it realigned my jaw and irritated a nerve. I now have a drilling pain in the right side of my brain that rarely stops. The solutions are beyond expensive. Thanks, U.S. Healthcare System.

It has led to some dark thoughts, and I can honestly say I have no judgment for those who do whatever it takes to seek a moment of peace, even if that moment lasts forever.

The frustrating thing is that I’m looking at some of the greatest opportunities of my life, and it’s now apparent that the work that has led up to those opportunities wants to kill me. It is also apparent that I’m going to find out the depths of my stubbornness.

After a few days staring at the ceiling and wondering if the pain will ever subside, I’m starting to wonder if a lot of what I hope for in my life, and that of my family, is now in danger. I look at my son, someone who depends on me for so much, and I have to hide the tears brought on by worry about what his future looks like with a father who facilitates a lot of his life, a father who is barely functional on a good day now. I often float through the house like a ghost with blinders on, just trying to get to the next hour.

“How you doing, Dad?”

“I’m ok, buddy.”

“You say that every time.”

What I am speaking of is nothing new for millions of people here in the United States. Many of them I know.

I know a lot of people suffer in silence and now appear almost like strangers to their families. And I now know how they suffer. This has been less than a month, but its unrelenting nature, coupled with no clear ending, makes me wonder if there will be an end at all. At times it subsides somewhat, and I can do something like I am doing now in writing this. But it is lurking just waiting to crank back up to unbearable levels that put me back in bed for hours.

This may be my last Substack for a while. I ask that you stick with me as you have through the dry spells of writing.

My focus at this point is on survival, both my own and that of my organization, The Across Network. Our work is vital and must continue. I must continue for my family and so many who depend on my refusal to be silent in uncomfortable times. I have a new perspective on pain and an incredible admiration for those who pull themselves from bed every day to somehow keep going.

No good deed goes unpunished, and life isn’t fair. I know all that. The bitterness at this wildcard I’ve been dealt has been tempered by the examples of people I know in far worse situations than I am, those who are fighting to keep going every day. I have a tremendous appreciation for what life was before, and I hope beyond hope to get back to it soon. I am seeking some medical solutions that could, at the very least, take the pain levels down somewhat.

In the meantime, I am going to take a break from this to focus on getting better. I have too many things going for me to let this sideline me.

If you deal with unrelenting pain daily, my heart is with you. Things that were so important to me a week ago are now meaningless. That’s been the one gift from this experience. It has forced me to prioritize in ways I never would have otherwise. It has also forced me to set aside many responsibilities and accept that it has to be okay even if no one is there to pick them up.

Here’s hoping this relents soon and I get back to my version of normal. Here’s hoping.