Don’t feel like reading? Listen to the audio version here:
(Sorry for the weird intro. I just wanted to make sure everyone got the song reference. Hehe. “How Deep Is Your Love” by the Bee Gees. Amazing song. Love it. Anyway, let’s get on with it.)
The answer? Pretty deep.
So, I’ve been suffering from physical pains for about 6-7 years now. It’s hard for me to believe that it’s been going on for that long.
It started in the Summer of 2012, when I was working at Bakken, an amusement park in Denmark, as a summer job. I had to quit after 3 months, because I’d started having massive migraines after work that would last for two-three days. My neck and shoulders were in pain almost every day. The work took such a toll on me, and I just had to quit.
I thought the pain would go away after I stopped working there. But it didn’t. I didn’t know it at the time, but the pain had come to stay.
I started going to physiotherapy regularly. I was referred to a neurologist because my migraines were just getting worse and more frequent. He told me that I just had to work out and strengthen my neck- and back muscles. Problem was, when I did work out, it would make the pain worse. Thus, it was difficult for me to go to the gym on a regular basis.
At least the neurologist prescribed some pain killers for migraines. Before that, I’d just be in terrible agony for three days. I had just wanted to die. But the medicine helped, at least for a day. Then I had to take another one the next day, because it would continue to return for those three days at a time.
This was back in 2013.
In Fall, 2012, I was on exchange in Japan through my university. I went to Fukuoka’s Women’s University (I do not recommend going there) with a full scholarship. This was basically my last try at finding my passion for Japanese studies again. Instead, I fell into the deepest depression I’d experienced up until that time. And the pain got even worse. I had headaches almost every day. The staff got so worried that they took me to the hospital to have x-rays. They couldn’t see anything, so they concluded that it was muscle tensions, and some massage therapy and pain killers would do the trick.
It did not.
The massage felt amazing, though. When in Japan, get a massage. This was specialized, though; it was obvious that it was for people like me, suffering from some sort of lasting pain.
At first, I just went once a week. Then twice. Then three times a week. Wasn’t getting better. Meds didn’t work. We were all at a loss.
By the end of November, I came to the following conclusion: either I was gonna jump off a bridge, or I would go home, drop out, and start over. Luckily, I still had the ability to think logically, and I thought going home would probably be the most logical decision. After all, my boyfriend, friends, and family would probably be sad if I jumped to my death. So, I booked a plane ticket, dropped out of the program, notified the head of department back in Copenhagen (who fully supported me in my decision), and only then did I tell my parents. I knew my mom would try to lecture me and try to force me to do what she thought was best, which was “stay in school” and “finish what I started” and “not just quit when thinks got hard.” And she did, indeed, try. But then I told them that I’d already bought the plane ticket, and that was that.
So, I went home. Started physiotherapy. Moved in with my older brother. Got a job. Hated it – had the kind of boss who works too much and bullies his employees. All the while, the pain only got worse.
I started going to therapy to try and figure out what the hell was happening in my brain. I did suspect that it might be recurring depressions. Little did I (or my first three therapists) know that three years later, I’d be diagnosed with bipolar.
I started English studies in Fall of 2013. Soon after, I quit my job, because it was killing me, and I was getting SU. (SU – The Danish students’ Grants and Loans Scheme. Every Dane over the age of 18 is entitled to public support for his or her further education – regardless of social standing (www.su.dk/english)).
I continued to go in and out of depressions. Nothing was really helping.
Even after I started treatment for bipolar, and started going to this sort of exercise group at the hospital where we would stretch, do some aerobics, yoga, and meditation, and continued with physiotherapy, the pain would. Not. Go. Away.
And so, the pain is still here. As bad as ever. Not just neck and shoulders and upper back and head; it’s spread to my lower back, and I’m basically sore everywhere if I press down on my body, especially on my shins, my backbone, and my lower back.
On the 1st of March of this year, I went to a rheumatologist on the recommendation of a doctor from my rehabilitation team (part of my current treatment program). The rheumatologist told me that it’s chronic pain that I will probably live with for the rest of my life. He didn’t want to give me any more medication, as the stuff I take for bipolar also kind of works as pain killers – they just don’t work on me. More meds would just have more side effects, and then I’d get pills for the side effects and pills for their side effects and so on. All I can do, according to him, is make sure I get regular exercise. That’s it.
I’m hoping to get a more specific diagnosis than just chronic pain. It’s a bit too vague for me. Going to see my GP tomorrow and ask her what other specialists I can talk to.
This post turned out a bit messy, I think. I apologize for that. Timelines are very difficult for me.
I’m just… just so fucking tired of being in pain every day. Some days are worse than others, but I feel it every single damn day. Sometimes it really gets to me, especially if I’m feeling low already. It’s a vicious cycle. If only one or the other had a cure… either bipolar or the pain. If only I could get rid of one of the fuckers. But they are both there, enforcing each other, making life harder for me.
As you can tell, I’m not feeling super great these days. Hopefully that will change soon. I’m working on it.
Hope you enjoyed reading the dark short story I posted the other day. I kinda liked it. I like creepy stuff, always have. What did you think of it? I wrote most of it a long time ago, and just decided to write on it a little bit more. Maybe I’ll work on it some more in the future.
Stay tuned for next Tuesday, when I’ll be sharing my strategies to prevent a (hypo)manic episode.
The Elephants in the Room 