Respecting Pain
My second post, "Respecting Pain" is up on The Rotund.
Because, for various reasons, I think we all need to be reminded:
Pain is pain.
For very obvious reasons, we shouldn’t belittle someone else’s experience because they are in a place that we would envy, or because we have had worse, or because they had an experience that we simply wouldn’t regard as hurtful.
We also shouldn’t belittle our own pain because others have it way worse, or because other people shrug off what is catastrophic to us. . . .
Nothing compounds pain like being made to feel stupid or weak or guilty for feeling it, or, worse, feeling like you deserve it.
We can’t (in this area or any other) judge ourselves by the most saintly and long-suffering behavior of other people, nor should we use the yardstick of our own experiences as a way to find others wanting. We have to measure each person’s pain against their own experience.
Certainly, we should strive for some perspective, but as I was always fond of pointing out to my mother, the fact that I could have broken my fool neck running down those stairs does not mean my sprained ankle does not hurt. Nor does the fact that I brought it on myself mean I am not allowed to take a freaking Tylenol. We should learn from mistakes, yes, but we shouldn’t feel so hideously guilty about making them that we cling to the pain they cause us.
With pain, we must first acknowledge that we feel it; until we can see and admit that a thing is there, we can’t take measures to protect ourselves from it or get rid of it entirely. We also have to accept that it’s perfectly all right to feel hurt by things that hurt us. Being hurt by painful things is . . . well . . . painful!
The problem is, our society really hates pain, and expressions of pain. It often belittles and derides those who have hurt feelings - and hurt bodies - as weak and inferior. It likes for people to feel guilty and ashamed about these things. According to the messages many of us receive, we’re supposed to be perfect, and we had better be trying to measure up just as hard as we can, or we are entitled to no sympathy at all.
So a lot of us are conditioned to respond to ourselves when we are in pain by belittling ourselves. We tell ourselves that we don’t really hurt, or that we should not hurt; or worse, we feel guilty and ashamed, and hang on to our pain like a punishment we feel we deserve. The end result of that is that our pain just builds up and festers and poisons our lives.
Unlearning this conditioning is important if we are to accept ourselves and heal. It takes strength to admit to feeling pain and to work through it. It really does. It is easier to go along with what society tells us, it is easier to assume the identity and disrespect thrust upon us, instead of fighting to retain the identity and dignity we deserve, pain and all. If we are making our pain worse by holding on to it and feeling ashamed of what we are, we can never be at peace with ourselves, and until we are at peace, we will never be whole.
Likewise, if we say someone else’s pain is not “real pain,” or if we tell them that they deserve to be hurting, we are simply reinforcing that guilt, that sense of well-deserved suffering. You can’t help someone who is in pain by telling them they aren’t in pain, or that it’s all their fault. It’s one thing to ask someone to accept responsibility for their actions; it’s another to ask them to accept undeserved guilt and blame - especially guilt and blame over something that they cannot change.
Thanks to reneekytokorpi, whose comment lo these many moons ago got me thinking about how pain is pain.
Full post here.
Because, for various reasons, I think we all need to be reminded:
Pain is pain.
For very obvious reasons, we shouldn’t belittle someone else’s experience because they are in a place that we would envy, or because we have had worse, or because they had an experience that we simply wouldn’t regard as hurtful.
We also shouldn’t belittle our own pain because others have it way worse, or because other people shrug off what is catastrophic to us. . . .
Nothing compounds pain like being made to feel stupid or weak or guilty for feeling it, or, worse, feeling like you deserve it.
We can’t (in this area or any other) judge ourselves by the most saintly and long-suffering behavior of other people, nor should we use the yardstick of our own experiences as a way to find others wanting. We have to measure each person’s pain against their own experience.
Certainly, we should strive for some perspective, but as I was always fond of pointing out to my mother, the fact that I could have broken my fool neck running down those stairs does not mean my sprained ankle does not hurt. Nor does the fact that I brought it on myself mean I am not allowed to take a freaking Tylenol. We should learn from mistakes, yes, but we shouldn’t feel so hideously guilty about making them that we cling to the pain they cause us.
With pain, we must first acknowledge that we feel it; until we can see and admit that a thing is there, we can’t take measures to protect ourselves from it or get rid of it entirely. We also have to accept that it’s perfectly all right to feel hurt by things that hurt us. Being hurt by painful things is . . . well . . . painful!
The problem is, our society really hates pain, and expressions of pain. It often belittles and derides those who have hurt feelings - and hurt bodies - as weak and inferior. It likes for people to feel guilty and ashamed about these things. According to the messages many of us receive, we’re supposed to be perfect, and we had better be trying to measure up just as hard as we can, or we are entitled to no sympathy at all.
So a lot of us are conditioned to respond to ourselves when we are in pain by belittling ourselves. We tell ourselves that we don’t really hurt, or that we should not hurt; or worse, we feel guilty and ashamed, and hang on to our pain like a punishment we feel we deserve. The end result of that is that our pain just builds up and festers and poisons our lives.
Unlearning this conditioning is important if we are to accept ourselves and heal. It takes strength to admit to feeling pain and to work through it. It really does. It is easier to go along with what society tells us, it is easier to assume the identity and disrespect thrust upon us, instead of fighting to retain the identity and dignity we deserve, pain and all. If we are making our pain worse by holding on to it and feeling ashamed of what we are, we can never be at peace with ourselves, and until we are at peace, we will never be whole.
Likewise, if we say someone else’s pain is not “real pain,” or if we tell them that they deserve to be hurting, we are simply reinforcing that guilt, that sense of well-deserved suffering. You can’t help someone who is in pain by telling them they aren’t in pain, or that it’s all their fault. It’s one thing to ask someone to accept responsibility for their actions; it’s another to ask them to accept undeserved guilt and blame - especially guilt and blame over something that they cannot change.
Thanks to reneekytokorpi, whose comment lo these many moons ago got me thinking about how pain is pain.
Full post here.