Pain is not socially acceptable. Pain is a downer. Pain is a great conversation killer.
Whether it’s physical, mental, emotional or spiritual pain, American culture doesn’t like to directly chat about it. Outside of music, pain is best kept inside, as ghostly as petrichor, smelled but not seen, felt but not heard.
“This is my new song,” my little sister texted to me a few years ago.
I clicked on the link and let Imagine Dragons croon the deepest words of my soul…
First things first
I’ma say all the words inside my head
I’m fired up and tired of the way that things have been, oh ooh
The way that things have been, oh ooh
Second thing second
Don’t you tell me what you think that I can be
I’m the one at the sail, I’m the master of my sea, oh ooh
The master of my sea, oh ooh
I was broken from a young age
Taking my sulking to the masses
Write down my poems for the few
That looked at me, took to me, shook to me, feeling me
Singing from heartache from the pain
Taking my message from the veins
Speaking my lesson from the brain
Seeing the beauty through the
You made me a, you made me a believer, believer
(Pain, pain)
You break me down, you build me up, believer, believer
(Pain)
Oh let the bullets fly, oh let them rain
My life, my love, my drive, it came from
(Pain)
You made me a, you made me a believer, believer
…
We were both in the midst of crisis. We were both in a massive amount of physical pain due to health issues. I was in a very bad place in every way — physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually.
My pain was too much, so I said nothing. It was my own fault. I had made choices. My choices led to my pain (the non-physical pain, anyway). I felt bad, so bad.
And it was all my fault.
“How are you doing?” my cousin would ask.
“I’m alright,” I would say.
What else could I say? I cry every day? I want to jump off of a building? I feel trapped and sad all the time? I’m confused and alone and scared? The person I am supposed to trust the most is a liar and a cheater and he can’t stand me and nothing I do is ever good enough and I should’ve known better?
I should’ve known better.
No.
Stop right there, kid. Stop right there.
My dad’s voice comes to me in that moment. He is wounded and so sad when I hear him in my head.
“It is not your fault.”
He never said that, actually. But if he were reading this, as he read everything else I ever blogged, he would’ve commented as much.
Sometimes pain is not your fault, it’s just pain.
And hiding that pain from everyone around you may cost you your life. And your bestfriend will lose her bestfriend. And your dad will lose one of his baby girls. And your cousin will lose her cousin.
It’s ok to be in pain and tell people about it. It does not make you weak or pathetic. How do you think Taylor Swift makes so much money? Why is it acceptable for her to be vulnerable on stage in front of thousands, but not cool for me to cry in the grocery store? Why is Imagine Dragons epic for talking about pain, but we feel stupid talking about pain with our closest friends?
Maybe it’s just me. Maybe I’m the only one who struggles with this. Maybe everyone else is on another page and they already know that crap happens and sometimes bystanders pay the price.
Hurt people hurt people.
It is my goal in life to leave the hurt behind me and show kindness and long suffering to everyone I meet instead of perpetuating the cycle that I was yanked into.
I will fail, but I have a Friend who took care of that.
silencestressed 