Waxing philosophical about spinal fusion pain

Chronic pain, like that related to a spinal fusion, teaches you a lot about how you find meaning in life. I don’t mean the classic friends, family, blah, blah, blah. I’m talking about the day-in and day-out minutia; how do you wake up in the morning and know that your life is worth living? When every day, normal tasks become painful and burdensome, what do you pull from within to keep going?

The answer, my friends, is your meaning. You can have a great family and the perfect job, but if you don’t like yourself, it’s not going to matter.

And that’s where chronic pain can actually help. Because to battle through the pain, the physical pain that would stop others…well, victory is that much sweeter.

For me, keeping physically active (trying to keep up with my ultra – marathoner boyfriend) lets me know that I’m alive. I don’t sit at home and wallow, wishing life were different, for that would make it– oh! –so much worse.  It’s not easy, I dont always succeed, but I can’t give up. I get my meaning by doing what makes me feel free. Free from pain, even though I’m not. Free from self loathing, even though I’m not. And free from restrictions that come with a major injury, even though…well, you guessed it..I’m not.

It’s my deeper truth. There’s a fine line between doing enough to keep me happy/sane and being stupid (because I’ll be unable to walk the next day). I haven’t found that line yet. I kind of hope I never will. I like pushing myself to find my edge. That’s how I find my meaning, which translates into love and compassion I can, then, give to others.

The easiest way to love someone else is to love yourself.

In a way, I’m lucky because I get to prove to myself everyday that I’m worth something…just by doing what I love despite (in spite of) the pain.

And with this comes validation from the people who love me. My boyfriend not the least of which, who holds me when I hurt too much, pushes me when I want to give up (usually in a mental capacity. ..I often feel worthless when in pain), and supports my choice to climb that goddamn mountain. He even loves me when I’m being “ridiculously stubborn” (his words) about acknowledging I hurt (ehh…it’s been known to happen).

We all have the capacity and ability to find our own meaning, and our paths will be as unique ourselves. But one thing is always the same:

It won’t be easy, but it’ll be worth it.