Handling Pain

~ Gottfried

Pain is that ill-advised trip to the pee at 2am. Just as you’re about to make a left turn to the bathroom, you stub your toe against a sharp edge of the bed. Suddenly the sleepiness vanishes from your eyes, you’re in excruciating pain. You open your mouth to scream but only air comes out. And when it finally comes, the scream sounds like it was embellished with auto-tune. T-pain.

Your folks ever disciplined you so much, you start to suspect you’re adopted? Talking about, “there’s no way they’ll treat their biological kid like this.” So you pack your bags in the middle of the night, with a plan to leave at first light the following morning. The next day you realize you left out a few small details. Where the hell are you even going to stay? More importantly, what will you eat? Will you run on oxygen? There’s no life hack for this, go back to your room and sleep!

Advice to the mandem, crying is therapeutic. When something hurts you, don’t indulge society and say “I will be a man, I won’t cry!”. For the love of God, find an empty room and go cry your eyes out. What do you think is the reason grandpa has since left but grandma has been alive since independence? Crying man, c-r-y-i-n-g. These women have held the secret to longevity all these years, right under our noses. But not anymore.

Drink. And by drink, I mean, drink water. You can distract the pain by going to pee every thirty seconds. Keeps your mind preoccupied. Or better yet, you can pretend the pain doesn’t even exist. For a moment just imagine one of your legs gets completely hacked off.

Where are you going to feel the pain?

“In your leg”

But the leg isn’t there?

“See”

Listen to music. One thing about music is, when it hits you, you feel no pain. Preferably from the heavy metal genre. You barely hear a thing as it’s so chaotic. But it best describes how you feel at that moment, so you’re in perfect sync. Do not, I repeat, do not listen to any music from Lana del Rey or Billie Eilish when you’re hurting. We’re not quite ready to eat jollof rice at your funeral.

Take it out on your younger siblings. Used to work for my brother 😂. All though, to be completely honest, I probably deserved every single one of those love punches. Seriously though, find a nonviolent means for relieving the pain; Like eating lots of food. There is no downside, you can finally get fat, get rid of all the left over’s, and now have the rare privilege of a credit balance reading in binary.

Away from the banter. The first step to dealing with pain is acceptance. The second step is, sharing, and the last step is moving on, which is the hardest part, experts say. For me though, the only way to handle pain is to know pain and be a pain…

in someone else’s arse.

© Gottfried. All rights reserved.

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296 thoughts on “Handling Pain”

  5. I am definitely with you on the same page with taking it out on someone. At the end, I feel bad for lashing out on the person.
    About the song part, Juice Wrld and Billie Eilish are always helping out to ease the pain.

    You keep amazing me with your works! Taking notes every time!😊✨

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  7. Love it! You reminded me of when I strolled into the kitchen when I was 3 1/2 in my diaper or shorts or whatever with no shirt. I politely asked my parents, “Do you want to go to Funland?” The response came back, “No, Jordan, not today, we’re making lunch.” “Ok.” And, out the door I went. They thought I was going to go play in the carport. Nope. I was not asking for permission. I was being polite, asking them if they wanted to go with me. So, down the drive and around the corner, and up a couple of blocks to the highway I went. Walked along the highway for a mile or so to arrive at FUNLAND!! WOO HOO! Funland. It was a local them park with bumper cars and cotton candy and ring toss and… THE FERRIS WHEEL. I LOVED the Ferris wheel. Tiny one, not a big one. It was big enough for me as I was 3 1/2. This is before cell phones, like 1971 or some such. My parents get a call… “Little Jordy is safe on the Ferris wheel, and we’ll keep him here, but where are you?”

    🙂 Yes, you’re not supposed to scare your parents. But, no one said anything about terrifying them. So, scroll forward. OH BOY YES was I in trouble. It’s funny how you learn limits and some boundaries are set. Though, I did NOT like that much at all. In fact! The very next morning, same attire, I packed my Snoopy suitcase and ran away. I made it to the curb. Started crying. Sat down. The neighbor, local newspaper editor came and sat next to me. “Well, Jordie, what’s the trouble? Why are you crying?” I remember the glare I shot her, and then, “Because I’m running away!” She smiled and softly said, “So, what’s the problem with that? That sounds like freedom.” Wiping off the tears I pursed my lips… “Yes! But it’s NOT! Because, now I’m not allowed to cross the street by myself!”

    Thanks for the memory! Gives me a gift of my natural mode of being… that can cross any street by myself now. 😉

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