I don't remember how not to hurt.
I do, however, remember a time when the pain did not encroach into my dreams
It could still wake me,
But, as long as I could hold still enough, eyes closed, for long enough, I could escape completely.
Sometimes only for seconds
But even seconds give you hope.
I would sometimes find myself wishing that I would go to sleep and never wake up.
Not die.
Death terrifies me.
Just not wake up.
I would imagine how wonderful and even liberating it could be
To be stuck in a dream
Oblivious to my bodies self-betrayal and slow self-destruction
I also remember a time when I believed pain was not only completely subjective, but also easily conquered by the all-powerful human brain.
At least as long as you were persistent and of strong will.
I was wrong.
I just was not in pain
and I arrogantly assumed it was because I was in some way stronger than those who were.
It turns out that when things are going well, we often assume it is because we are doing things right.
In reality, much of it is due to luck.
Now the pain even occupies my dreams
It's presence is sometimes barely perceptible
But it's there.
It's nagging ubiquitous and undetachable from existence
And my means to quiet it limited and, in some cases, nonexistent.
On many occasions I have found myself wishing my pain on others.
Not permanently by any means.
But not just the everyday, ever-present nagging pain that accompanies me when I am feeling my best,
I want them--everyone if I am being honest-- to feel the screaming, crippling, agonizing pain that happens on my (and many other chronic pain sufferers) worst days.
The type of pain that forces you to ponder what it was that you possibly could have done to incur the wrath of whatever God it was you once believed in.
Not to be malicious or because I want anyone to suffer.
But because I want you to understand.
Best wishes everyone and good luck,
@veckinon