I have chronic pain. My pain is so bad that when it flares up it can give me seizures so I am constantly on anti anxiety meds, meds that raise the seizure threshold and calm you, as well as painkillers. I have been in chronic pain for 23 years. People call me a whiner, a baby, people don't want to be around me, I've been abandonded by friends and family both emotionally and physically. My family has always been abusive, all y adult life I've been in and out of places that provide councelling for the after effects of abuse and sexual assault. The doctors finally believed the severity of my pain when I had a grand mal seizure on the sidewalk one day. I hit the ground so hard that I split my scalp open requiring 7 staples, and it was so cold that my hair must have frozen to the sidewalk with my blood. Fortunately someone found me and called 911. This was after I'd been in pain for 20 years, so I've only had proper treatment for 3 (my timeline might be a bit fuzzy from one of my injuries messed up my internal clock but I think it is 3 years). My parents don't give a damn and have moved out of the country to the US. They say if I want them I can move there but anyone with 1/2 a brain knows I can't move to the US with all the "pre exisiting conditions" I have, no insurance company would pick me up. We were immigrants here in the first place so I have no family at all, no aunts no uncles, cousins, grandparents, no anything. I grew up being told that my mom's work colleagues were "Aunt ____" and they even attended my Grad and so on but when my mom moved they said that the relationship wasn't real. It's very sick. I have a broken facial bones that took 5 reconstruction surgeries and so my headaches are so constantly bad that the nerve activity shows up on a CAT scan, that is a doctor can see my pain. I have an entrapped nerve in my neck from an abusive realtionship that has made my neck arthritic I have bony protrusions that are inside the vertibrae grwoing towards my spinal column, and eventually it will close off my spinal column and kill me. Without directly saying so, I have permission to go at any time, because I am provided with enormous amounts of medication and there is nothing the can do. I have a soft tissue injury from a "date rape" (which I firmly believe should be renamed to "aquanience sexual assault causing grevious bodily harm and attempted manslaughter" because that's what it REALLY is and people should stop making ruphie jokes and thinking that its so harmelss). It is horrible. Following the lower back injury I was in so much pain my body was buckling under its own weight of pain. Since I didn't have a good doctor that was treating my pain appropraitely, I was drinking just to cope with the pain, which I as I understand it is very common in people undertreated for pain and Post Traumatic Stress. The thing is, I look fine. From the outside, with no xray I look like a perfectly passable person, and bearing what they coin an "invisible illness" has challenges of it's own because people assume you are lazy or making things up. So my pain would get so bad that I would have anxiety attacks, and being abable to work I had to bear the shame of being an adult living with mom. Mom would treat me like crap with the reasoning that I wasn't paying rent so she can do what she pleases. My pain would get so bad I would have 12-14 hour dry heaving sessions and tore a hiatial (diaphraghm muscle) hernia and consequently got several huge ulcers in my esophagus. I was slightly allergic to the medicine that may ex-doctor had me on so I had huge patches of excema, was constantly in a cold sweat, irritable, low on energy and depressed. I was treated by my mother (who is a nurse) that the cluster of symptoms I had was a character flaw and not a medical issue. Sometimes I self harm in a way that no one else can: I withold the painkillers from myself so I have feel the pain. Maybe in a good way it is a healthy thing to do since it helps to keep my tolerence down for my medication. I've always been the sort to tough it out and have had a very hard life, and so nothing hurts more than people calling me a whiner and a baby because I've been through things that people couldn't believe and more of them than most people can imagine. A least people that have a grounded sense of this sort of thing call me strong, like the psychologist I go to for PTSD. It's a dangerous thing to do; my pain tolerence is so high that when I was less sick than I am now I would fall off a horse and continue an hour long ride with a dislocated arm and not go for help for days. Once I was dancing i heels and the heel went off the edge of the dance floor and I fractured my ankle in 2 places and didn't go home. The specialists I go to now have rated my untreated pain alongside end-stage cancer but I have no end in sight, an ambivolent blessing. My medicine is dangerous too, its a delicate balance and I know that I'm playing with fire. I have to just take enough medicine that I can feel a slight amount of pain because no amount of painkillers will make it go away; or to be more precise, the amount of pain medicine that would make it go away would be a lethal dose. So today I am feeling my pain ebb and flow like standing on a rough beach and letting the waves and the rocks below fling at me. The pain is neon green and has a sharp sound like a harpy screaming in my ears. I'm ignoring it with indignant rage, simialr to how I felt when I would bear the punishment for my brothers actions. Mother Thresa would withhold pain medicine to her patients, claiming that the pain would bring them closer to God, essentially torturing the people in her "hospital". She was right in a way, it can take you right out of your body. Shame she was never strong enough to take her own medicine (or lack thereof) and when she got sick was on a morphine drip. But if I allow a dry out from the medicine the painkillers will work better later. It's a coin flip.