help please

[Guest guest]

Greetings,

It's been a while, a very full while, since I posted here. Now I have

a question, that I am posting to more than one of my chronic pain

lists. I hope someone can help me.

In 1999, I wrote a poem, Exodus (posted again at the bottom of this

post). That was two years ago. One would think that I was past that

stage. I have just discovered I am not.

What do I do, when the desire to be 'normal,' and not a druggie,

causes me to deny that I am in pain and say " I do not 'need' to take

pain meds " to the point where my husband practically has to force me

to take meds? At which point I go, " Oh, I guess I did hurt " . I show

physical signs of pain (inability to walk, talking to myself, that

grimace that some people say is a smile, but we know better, etc.)

but resist STRONGLY the natural, helpful path of taking the drugs I

fought to be prescribed.

What is going on? It's as if some part of my psyche considers being

in pain to be the natural state. Maybe I deserve this pain. Maybe I

am just faking to get attention. ANYTHING but say, I am in pain, I

shouldn't be and I will not accept it.

Help please,

BB & D

J. Bidwell Glaze

Exodus

" Denial is not a river in Egypt " -Mark Twain

I am leaving,

I am leaving!

I am leaving Egypt.

I remember walking by the banks of deNile,

While the soft moonlight gently caressed my face.

Gentle words:

& #61623; " I'm fine. "

& #61623; " Discomfort "

& #61623; " I'll be OK "

& #61623; " No problem "

Whispered in the darkness ,

And awful words:

& #61623; pain

& #61623; dependence

& #61623; grief

& #61623; disability

Could find no place as the harsh suns of deNile's day overpowered

them.

I walk now across a dangerous desert of unknowns, deNile behind me.

The warm and sheltering dark are behind me,

An illusion.

The sweetness of coming success that deNile's suns illumined,

A mirage.

I am leaving the comfortable hole

I had dug with my own hands.

I had dug a retreat with my own actions,

My own lies.

I am leaving.

I am,

Timidly,

Step by terror filled step,

Leaving my warm, welcoming,

Cozy place by deNile.

Out of denial,

Out of Egypt

Into pain.

But pain is real.

The pain is true.

As the old lies can never be.

copyright 1999 J. Bidwell Glaze