I wish someone told me

I wish someone told me…

…that pain is mandatory, but suffering is optional.

It wasn’t until I was thirty-seven, in an intensive outpatient program which utilized Dialectical Behavior Therapy, that I heard this for the first time.

Pain is mandatory.  I do not think anyone is ever exempt.  The pain can be physical, emotional, or spiritual or any combination thereof.  It can be a broken leg, broken heart, or broken faith.  The same principles apply.  It’s what I do with the pain that determines whether I suffer. 

With my foot surgeries (there have been three, two of which were bilateral), I was certainly in pain, but I did not suffer.  I followed the doctor’s advice to the letter.  I didn’t push the limits or try to do more than I should … although I admit, I thought about it.  Additionally, I kept all my follow-up appointments and took the time afforded to me by my leave of absence to sew my first quilt.  Basically, I took a negative and made it a positive experience.

During my numerous psychiatric hospitalizations, I was in a lot of emotional and mental pain and I was seeking help (though I often was in denial for a while, sometimes a very long while, especially with the anorexia).  I knew I didn’t want to live that way and I knew I couldn’t achieve lasting recovery alone.  I was in pain and I didn’t want to continue suffering.  The pain remained but the suffering ceased.  I may have relapses, but I now have a support system and coping skills that work.

I suffer by choice.  That may seem awfully harsh and somewhat judgmental, at first.  The statement really implies that I choose to dwell on the pain, on the circumstances surrounding it, and most of all, on the past.  I’m not at all degrading the seriousness of the pain, but, instead I give it a name, empower myself, recognize it, and release it.  I let it go.  Sometimes, this has to be done repeatedly even as much as every few minutes.  Then several things happen. 

First, the pain does not become all consuming.  It is not the way I define myself.  Despite its level, I try my best to distract myself and focus on my gratitude list. 

Secondly, I focus on my present.  I stay grounded and try to be aware of my surroundings.  When the outcome is really looking bleak, I name the items around me.  For example, right now, I see words.  I see my laptop.  It is open.  The background is blue.  It almost looks periwinkle.  This may seem like over simplification, but even if I get only a moment’s reprieve or even if I don’t, I am in pain, but I am not suffering.  I can try to choose my words and change my behaviors. 

Finally, when all else fails, I practice Radical Acceptance.  Suffering is optional.