WebMD estimates millions of Americans suffer from chronic pain. The source of this pain varies as much as the people who suffer from it. It is classified as pain lasting over 6 months, but after that it defies definition. It can be everything from constant to sporadic, stabbing to achy. Chronic pain usually interferes with a person’s quality of life and plays a role in her interpersonal relationships. It doesn’t take her long to start defining herself by her pain level, for it to start limiting her daily activities and her plans. This is where chronic pain becomes dangerous.

My story of chronic pain begins like a lot of others probably do. It crept up and next thing I knew, the shooting pain in my back integrated itself into my every day. I stopped doing all the things I loved: softball, hiking, volleyball, running, weight lifting, snowboarding, and more. I stopped because I was afraid of the pain. I stopped because the pain owned me.

After the surgery (see Spinal Fusion 101), I decided it was time to take my body back. But this didn’t happen all at once. It took me years to realize that the pain would always be there and that I needed to redefine myself in my relationship to my pain. Slowly I went from being a victim of chronic pain to a survivor in spite of chronic pain to a whole person, an athlete, who just happens to have pain.

The emotional toll of chronic pain can be unimaginable. My back pain brings up emotional insecurities ranging from “why would anyone want to be with me?” to “it will hurt anyway, why bother?” My personality changes when my pain is at its worst. Those who know me best can tell, without asking, how bad my pain is at that moment, even when I try to hide it. They see it in my eyes. They hear it in my voice. It reduces my ability to deal with stress and steals away my greatest moments.

But I have hope.

Recently, I have discovered that physical pain can be handled a lot like emotional pain. That is, see it for what it is. Accept it. Recognize it. Then move on.

Using mindfulness-based meditations, I can disassociate “self” from “my back pain.” Ah, I see I’m in more pain than usual. I choose not to react to that.

Side note: At the urging of my patient (and pretty much awesome-est guy ever) boyfriend, I took a Mindfulness-based Stress Reduction Course based on the teachings of Jon Kabat-Zinn. The lessons and skills I learned in that course deserve their own postings (and those will come).

I am very cognizant of my physical limitations, but I’m much more willing to push those boundaries and see how far I can go. I’m still learning and occasionally (read: all the time) I push myself too far. When that happens, I can’t walk or move much. My friends and family (mostly my poor boyfriend) have to help me. But that’s okay. I forgive myself, recover, and try again.

I’m playing softball and volleyball again. I’m running, weight lifting, and hiking again. I even went snowboarding once this year. I lost over 50 pounds in the past 12 months by staying active and true to my inner athlete. That was weight gained when my pain defined me. It was weight lost when I took myself back. (I’ll blog on the weight loss journey soon.)

One more thing that’s helped a lot: Hot Power Vinyasa Yoga! Wow! I’m addicted. (Also a topic for a future blog post.)

This is just the beginning…