No Man is an Island

No man is an island; unless in chronic pain. Chronic pain has cast me adrift from the life I once knew, leaving me stranded at sea hoping for a long called-for rescue. The isolation of chronic pain exceeds the physical realm and affects one’s mental health, relationships and career; leaving no aspect of life unharmed.

Living with chronic pain has been an unrelenting battle that has taken its toll on my mental health. The persistent pain which you try to keep invisible to the outside world leaves you exhausted and in your own private prison. Much like a prison sentence chronic pain erodes your optimism, as you can no longer look forward to anything, as when you try to imagine your future self you are always accompanied by your cursed companion. The pessimism only intensifies the struggle, as you withdraw from socialising, you inadvertently isolate yourself further.

The impact of chronic pain extends beyond the individual; it seeps into relationships, sometimes straining even the most strongest of connections. My wife in particular has found herself in uncharted territory, grappling with how to support me while also managing her own feelings of helplessness and frustration. It is the ones we love most that see us at our most vulnerable and this ordeal is a testament to that.

Communication breakdowns often occur, as I attempt to conceal my pain to avoid being a burden to my wife and family. As I do this an invisible barrier emerges creating an ever-growing void between myself and those who care for me.

Chronic pain has also been detrimental to my career. Being a teacher is central to my identity, in the classroom discussing my literary heroes, Shakespeare, Orwell, Atwood, is where I emerge as the best version of myself – I know it’s where I am meant to be.

However my career has suffered considerably due to chronic pain becoming a daily foe. Not only contributing to absenteeism but more significantly pain has prevented me from fully being in the moment as I teach. The classroom, once a haven for me, is another space of my life that has become infested with chronic pain.

I have increasingly found myself relating to Shakespeare’s King Lear who poignantly asks in act one scene four of The Bard’s greatest tragedy, “Who is it that can tell me who I am?” It is his loyal and perceptive Fool who answers him, replying to Lear’s existential crisis with, “Lear’s shadow.” Much like Lear I have questioned who I even am anymore when pain leaves me the shadow of my former self.

The Fool’s response also suggests it is only Lear himself who can answer his own existential cry and it is through great suffering Lear that eventually achieves his anagnorisis on the nature of his identity. In turn I have learnt a great deal about myself, finding an inner resolve I didn’t know existed and the euphoric pain-free days have revealed to me what is most valuable to me in this life; my wife, my family and Ted Hughes (not the deceased former poet laureate but our pet sprocker spaniel!)

Finally, chronic pain often necessitates a revaluation of what true happiness means. Through this process I discovered new paths to achieve fulfillment, the roads not taken no longer trouble me as they would have in my past.

The title for this article comes from John Donne’s 17th century treatise on the nature of human connection –

No man is an island,
Entire of itself,
Every man is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.

In the face of chronic pain, your connection to the main is vital if it is to be endured. Seek connection, support, and adaptation. Although the trauma of chronic pain is real, so too is the potential for resilience and recovery, even on the most isolated of islands.