There was one spot to touch, and all pain would break loose. It was one spot that could build a tremendous wave of pain, gripping my head and my sense, and shrinking my world to the place of its passion. For the moments it lasted, I was blind to all except you; from a rage of another sort.
Months ago, while skimming headlines, my mind picked up a phrase that went something like, ‘scientists show that pain is painful.’ Who wouldn’t say ‘duh!’ at this. It’s obvious isn’t it? But if we asked why or how we feel pain, and why or how it does whatever it does to us, to us, we may see some sense in what the headline said.
It’s amazing this house we live in; it’s wonderful this soul we have.
Rising from one side and going round the back of my neck then up towards my right ear, it was like a rapid, flowing at the speed of light. A rush of pain inside, through a path I couldn’t see. The feeling was such as I had never experienced before. I’d heard of neuropathic pain, this seemed like it. One entire nerve path firing pain at my brain repeatedly for a time that was shorter than it felt. It was truly pain full.
This looked like too much for a paracetamol; we needed something more. Tablets containing three active compounds with anti-inflamatory properties etc, inhibiting this and inhibiting that. Yes, we read the leaflet that came with the pack and found comfort in what we read. It wasn’t a cure, it was to us just a means to buy comfort time, time within which we expected the body would heal itself. And when we could try to help the body actually heal—taking treatment.
Going for that 3-in-1 combo tab gave relief. When I stopped the pain medication, it was still there, but much more bearable. And I continued with other treatment, the liniment, massage and exercise, without medicines interfering with the sensation of pain.
Pain, like many things in reality, is a real perception, demanding real physical, mental, or emotional reaction of some sort. Some, for their pains and discomfort, have chosen the triple treat of alcohol, drugs, and sex. When she stopped them for the little while that she would, the pain was still there in all its glory. She also had this expression of anger. Anger itself, like pride and fear, a face of pain in a twisted sort of way. Rather than regress somewhat with the feeling of pain, we ‘strike’ from our hearts with the same feeling boiling within. She’d now added new pains to deal with, the effects of excesses, and the addictions that grew from her mix of inhibitors.
I’d slept the wrong way that night, putting a part of my body in discomfort. What I felt subsequently was the voice that said so. It was a LOUD voice; I’d even heard it come out my mouth in very clear mutter. That’s what pain is, a voice that something went wrong with us somewhere.