Magical Truthsaying Bastard Shadesong (shadesong) wrote,
Magical Truthsaying Bastard Shadesong

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I can get to a 7 on the 1-10 scale of pain without the common passerby twigging to the fact that something's Wrong. People who know me can tell. It's in my sentence structure. It's in the hesitation. It's in the voice.

At an 8, random passersby can tell. That's when the pain shoves all of the cope right out of my body, when I'm trembling...

At a 9, I have nerve pain that feels like someone's shoving knitting needles through my nervous system. When forced to walk, I stagger. Yesterday, I walked half a mile from the bus stop with pain spiking into 9; I actually cried out when it first hit, and made the rest of the walk clutching the thigh that was getting the worst of it as I limped home, brain utterly short-circuited by pain. Collapsed on the couch, made the post, communicated to marmota that things were Wrong - I think he was frustrated that I wasn't making sense, but he came to understand why.

At an 8, I feel as if I cannot remember ever being healthy, and feel that I will never again be healthy, and this pain will never recede, and that Elayna is the only reason not to kill myself. Adam, I tell myself, would recover. He would find someone new, someone healthy, someone to take care of him. As I wept on him later in the evening, "Maybe I'm your big mistake."

Adam disagrees. And I am not actually a suicide risk. When the pain gets below a 7, I remember that my life outside the pain is actually really good.

But above it, the pain *is* my life, throbbing ache and searing agony forever, crowding out all thought, all rationality, everything, terrible and unending.

I'm 6ish, 7ish today. Can't walk much, and I have bone-deep throbbing. But I can think straight. I can "cope up a storm", as feste_sylvain puts it. I can cope most days. Almost always, these days.
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