This year, for the first time in my life, I experienced severe chronic pain that turned everything upside down and lasted for about four months. As someone who loves movement and lives a very active life, waking up one day with back pain that worsened to the point where I couldn’t do simple daily tasks was one of the hardest experiences I’ve ever had.
Fortunately, I got better. And from that terrifying experience, I’m sharing four lessons I hope I’ll take back if I’m ever that way.
How did it start?
It all started in mid-January. One day I felt great, taught a yoga class, then taught my middle school PE students. The next morning, I woke up with a strange pain and inability to move forward. Literally. I couldn’t bend more than an inch. Try washing your face without bending over and you will understand how frustrating it is. I assumed it was a minor strain that would disappear in a day or two. I never had problems before.
But the pain did not go away. It got worse. Soon I couldn’t sleep in my bed. I went to the floor. Then in my daughter’s room, thinking a firm surface would help. When a violent back pain from standing up lasted fifteen minutes or more, I tried sleeping on a massage table to avoid “sliding off” and spasms from standing, but the tight surface only caused more pain and trouble sleeping that I would somehow fall off. At one point I had a folding table above my bed so I could sleep higher on a wider surface. That didn’t work either.
Sleep was terrible. Sitting was unbearable. Lying on the couch was impossible. Each position elicited more pain than relief. I even tried wearing an adult diaper one night so I wouldn’t have to pee. Did it work? Absolutely not. Nothing was working.
I tried walking, because everyone says movement helps, but even that made little difference. I was taking Tylenol every four hours, more than the recommended dose – because I didn’t know what else to do.
I saw doctors and specialists and even agreed to pay 4,800 to a chiropractor who confidently said he could fix me in a few months. When you’re desperate, you’ll try almost anything. But that, like almost everything else, just led to more drains, more pain and ultimately… depression.
Chronic pain is not just physical. It destroys your sense of self and disconnects you from the world around you.
After three to four months of hell, I improved. I can move again. I can sleep in my own bed again. I am off all pain meds. I got my life back. And now that I’m finally on the other side, here are the four biggest takeaways I want to remember, and offer to anyone else who feels the same way.
1. Meditation: A Lifeline in the Darkest Tunnel
I was meditative throughout the experience. In retrospect, I probably should have considered it more. The science on meditation as a tool for pain management and healing is strong, but when you’re in the midst of pain and fear, it’s easy to forget.
My mind was constantly spinning:
Will it ever stop?
Will I ever move normally again?
What if it is permanent?
This stress response only made things worse. When the body is in a state of near-fear, cortisol rises, inflammation increases, and the pain cycle deepens.
Meditation didn’t magically make the pain go away, but it gave me something of value: a sense of agency and grounding. It gave my nervous system micro moments of relaxation when nothing else could. It helped to separate the physical sensation from the emotional storm above it, fear, despair, grief. Even when nothing else worked, meditation was something I could still do do itand that alone gave me a small sense of power in a situation that felt completely out of my control.
I couldn’t go through this alone. I needed help getting dressed. Putting on socks became the most difficult task of the day. I couldn’t wash dishes, cook, or do basic chores. I had to lean on friends and family in ways that felt very vulnerable.
One of my co-workers stuck medicated patches on my back every morning before class and hugged me when I cried. We had only met a month before so it was truly something I will never forget. I didn’t expect such closeness or kindness, but I need it.
Chronic pain is isolated. When you feel frozen in suffering, the world keeps spinning around you. And even when people ask how you’re doing, it can feel easier to repeat the pain story than to say “I’m fine.” I worry that I’m taking too much off on people, or repeating myself, or boring them, or boring myself. But pain takes over everything. It becomes the soundtrack of your life. Pretending you’re fine just makes it worse.
Chronic pain is isolated. When you feel frozen in suffering, the world keeps spinning around you.
Let people in. Accept help even if it hurts. If someone you love is going through this, you will want to support them. Let others do the same for you.
3. A relentless advocate for yourself
I went into this experience truly trusting that the medical system would help me. It was eye-opening to realize how many times I was offered drugs within minutes, while no one seemed interested in actually diagnosing the cause of my pain.
I saw several doctors, but no one was connecting the dots. I had to push for every reference, every test, every prospect. Finally, I now strongly suspect that there is a connection between my ulcerative colitis and this sudden, severe back pain. But no one suggested it. I had to put it together myself. And yet it hasn’t been officially confirmed, which gives me a nagging worry that it might come back.
Our medical system is often set up to treat symptoms, not root causes. If I hadn’t kept asking, insisting, searching, I’d still be stuck in this pain. You know your body better than anyone. So my motivation is to keep asking. Keep digging. Keep pushing.
4. Treat yourself
Pain management can take the joy out of everyday life, but that’s exactly when finding ways, big and small, to bring joy back becomes most important. It can be as simple as washing your shower with your favorite soap (Jason’s Rose Body Wash, for example!), listening to a favorite album (“on repeat”), or ordering three nights in a row (“
During my last ordeal, at one of the lowest points when I truly wondered if I would ever feel myself again, I made a promise: if I could move freely again, I would get my first tattoo. The design would be the mountain in the French Alps facing my family home. I love that mountain with all my heart. Now it lives on my upper arm, and every time I look at it, I’m reminded that I’m going through something difficult, and have grown because of it.

The path to healing
My journey lasted about 12 weeks. What a wild start to 2025! I came out the other side with a deeper understanding of what it means to be in pain inside a body, and how to fight my way out. Now that I’m pain-free, I’m thankful for something I once took for granted: just being able to move.
If you’re in your own battle with chronic pain, here’s what I most want you to know:
- Anchor yourself to something that brings even a moment of relief: meditation, breathing, visualization, prayer, music.
- Don’t isolate. Let your people love you.
- Be loud in the medical world. Keep going until no one listens.
- Invite more sensual pleasure into your daily rituals.
Pain can take a lot out of you. It can take away identity, happiness, confidence. But that doesn’t take away your ability to move toward healing, even if that movement is outwardly invisible. A close friend of mine gave me a metaphor that really changed my perspective. He asked me to imagine that I was a diamond miner, digging and digging, exhausted, convinced that I was still a long way from the treasure. But in reality, the diamond could be just inches away, be that as it may feels Miles out of reach His reminder was simple: Don’t give up. Breakthroughs can happen suddenly, and everything can change for the better, even when it seems like nothing is working.
Pain can take a lot out of you. It can take away identity, happiness, confidence. But that doesn’t take away your ability to move toward healing, even if that movement is outwardly invisible.
You are still here. Even in your darkest moment, there is still a way forward. So line up the yellow brick road that is your life with treasure chests of bursts of happiness along the way.
An exercise when pain is present
When back pain is flaring up, or any kind of tension or pain is felt alive in the body, this gentle meditation can help ease the pain and open the door to connecting with joy.
