Living with chronic pain feels like climbing an endless mountain
It's important that we learn to give grace to those suffering in silence
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Driving to a doctor’s appointment recently, I pulled up to a red light, where a bumper sticker on a nearby car caught my eye. Framed by purple hearts, it read: “A high pain level day is also a low stupidity, low tolerance day.”
As someone managing chronic pain due to pulmonary hypertension (PH), this hit home for me. While I’m grateful for the treatments that offer some relief, I still have days when my pain is through the roof, and my tolerance for, well, anything is at rock bottom. (My husband, Manny, can attest to this!)
On those days, every simple task feels like climbing a mountain. That bumper sticker was a powerful reminder that I’m not alone in this fight. It was a small, simple sign of camaraderie out in the wild, a nod from a stranger who gets it. Have you ever had a moment like this, when a small message made you feel seen and understood?
A constant fight to get through the day
Seeing that bumper sticker inspired me to write more about my 12-year journey with chronic pain and the lessons I’ve learned along the way.
Living with chronic pain is like being in a constant battle. Most days, I avoid medication unless the pain screams to an eight out of 10 on the pain scale, but it’s always there, a relentless nagging that intensifies as the day wears on. This constant fight is mentally, emotionally, and physically draining.
One of the most frustrating parts is that it doesn’t disappear with a good night’s rest. In fact, intense pain often steals my sleep, leaving me cranky and exhausted. It’s an ever-present shadow, ready to flare up without warning, making it nearly impossible to plan my life. Additionally, simple activities like reading a book or watching a movie can feel like monumental tasks due to brain fog and loss of concentration.
My pain is invisible, which means people don’t always understand why I have to cancel plans or sit things out. It’s a lonely experience, and the constant guilt, frustration, and isolation can really take a toll on my self-esteem. Having friends and family who understand, or at least try to, makes all the difference.
If you know someone with chronic pain, please remember that they’re doing their best. They’re not looking for sympathy, and they definitely don’t enjoy complaining. When they cancel plans, it’s not a choice, and they likely feel terrible about it. The best things you can offer are understanding and a welcome distraction. Sometimes, when the pain is overwhelming and nothing helps, what they need most is space to rest and ride it out.
When my pain is at its worst, I tend to shut down and push people away. My patience is thin, and all I can focus on is finding some sliver of relief. In those moments, being alone isn’t about rejecting others; it’s about survival.
Note: Pulmonary Hypertension News is strictly a news and information website about the disease. It does not provide medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this website. The opinions expressed in this column are not those of Pulmonary Hypertension News or its parent company, Bionews, and are intended to spark discussion about issues pertaining to pulmonary hypertension.
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