Finding Beauty in Pain: My Journey with Chronic Pain

The Shadow that Follows Me

Some days, out of nowhere, I feel the pain creeping in, like a shadow that moves with the morning sun. It's not sharp and wasn't noticeable before, but I've got years of experience at this point.

If I could explain this pain, it would be like a firework. It starts small, sparks and blasts midair, then vanishes—leaving behind smoke. Then the wind carries the smoke, turning and churning in the air. But imagine this firework in a confined room. On lucky days, it doesn't cause a fire. On normal days, it feels like breathing through thick firework smog.

Right now, my body fights itself about whether to light that firework. It gets slightly lit, and I pour water over it by trying not to move. Painkillers don't stop the process, they just put earmuffs and blindfolds on me so I don't see the pain happening. But here's the thing: fireworks are loud. I may not see the pain, but I hear it.

The Nighttime Dance

I sometimes wake up in the middle of the night with a dull ache and need to switch positions. I don't normally move in my sleep because one wrong move could trigger those fireworks. My mind and body have accustomed themselves to this reality and do their best to minimize anything that causes pain.

On a funny but totally serious note, I found my pelvis shifted to a noticeable degree on multiple occasions. I first noticed this while driving. My right hand seemed longer than my left, and I had to carefully maneuver and adjust to fit this strange phenomenon. My spine had curved by 20-something degrees to avoid hitting a painful nerve.

That day I learned what scoliosis was and how dangerous it is for the human body. I had scoliosis that reacts to pain; it comes and goes during periods of intense pain. Just my body's way of minimising pain while remaining functional, Alhamdullilah.

Morning Rituals of Resilience

Waking up from restful sleep refreshes most people. I wake up from a night-long slumber with achy bones and an inability to get up like a normal person. Every morning, I get up and walk on the spot or apply mild heat to my back to relieve the achy pain.

At this point in my life, this doesn't really bother me. It's just part of life, and I have honestly accepted it as one of life's struggles. But some days I feel like a 90-year-old. I just hope it doesn't get worse than it is now.

How Chronic Pain Reveals Your Body's Marvels

I have never blamed my body for any of this, even when my medical conditions led to countless ER visits, doctor appointments, MRIs, and CT scans. In fact, I love myself more now. I discovered that I've had issues with my spine for a decade without noticing until recently. My body carried me, let me live a normal life, and let me do everything I wanted until it couldn't anymore.

I carried a child in this same body. That alone was miraculous, and I gained a newfound respect and deep gratitude for my body. But that's how the body works for every single person out there. It tries everything to heal you, help you survive, and shield you from pain. We all need to thank our physical bodies and the Lord who provided them with utmost gratitude.

Embracing a Gentler Life

It's time for me to be kinder to myself, take extra care of my body, and finally let her rest. This was one reason why I decided to quit my corporate job. I needed a slower-paced, softer living. I needed to acknowledge how easily I get exhausted. I needed to understand that I required longer hours of sleep.

Just recently, I pushed my body to the limit by juggling pregnancy, full-time work, and full-time study simultaneously. I didn't take the needed break. Hence, my body took it for me, and I don't even blame her. I find it kind of funny, it matches my personality. That's the kind of straightforward message I would send if I wasn't being heard. I finally understood myself.

The Wisdom Pain Teaches

Through this journey with chronic pain, I've learned that our bodies speak to us in many languages. Pain is one of them, perhaps the loudest, most insistent one when we've ignored the whispers for too long. My relationship with pain has evolved from fear and frustration to respect and even gratitude.

This pain has taught me to listen more closely, to move more mindfully, and to honor my limitations. It has shown me that strength isn't about pushing through discomfort but about adapting with grace. The wisdom I've gained couldn't have come any other way.

If you're reading this and living with your own version of fireworks, know that you're not alone. Your body isn't betraying you, it's communicating with you. And in learning its language, you might discover a profound connection to yourself that pain, ironically, makes possible.

اَللّٰهُمَّ عَافِنِيْ فِيْ بَدَنِيْ ، اَللّٰهُمَّ عَافِنِيْ فِيْ سَمْعِيْ ، اَللّٰهُمَّ عَافِنِيْ فِيْ بَصَرِيْ ، لَا إِلٰهَ إِلَّا أَنْتَ ، اَللّٰهُمَّ إِنِّيْ أَعُوْذُ بِكَ مِنَ الْكُفْرِ وَالْفَقْرِ، وأَعُوْذُ بِكَ مِنْ عَذَابِ الْقَبْرِ، لَا إِلٰهَ إِلَّا أَنْت 3X

O Allah, grant me well-being in my body. O Allah, grant me well-being in my hearing. O Allah, grant me well-being in my sight. There is no god worthy of worship except You. O Allah, I seek Your protection from disbelief and poverty and I seek Your protection from the punishment of the grave. There is no god worthy of worship except You.

-Abū Dāwūd 5090, Aḥmad 20430-