The faster I pedal the more ammo and mobility my gun has.
Last week I raised the seat for better leg extension.
Bad idea.
As I reached level four I felt a twinge of pain in my lower back.
Did that stop me? Of course not!
I was taught to ignore pain.
The twinge became a sharp pain.
The next day I felt stiff.
Friday I walk across the City to therapy.
I began to dress.
There’s a small chair in front of the door to bedroom closet.
I needed a jacket so I moved the chair and felt something pop; a jolt
of pain raced up my spine and down my legs.
Did I decide not to walk over five miles to my therapist, most of it up hill?
Of course not!
I was in so much pain that when I got home I took two aspirin and a double dose of ‘Clonopin.’ Most docs use benzos to treat severe spasms of the lower back. (I don’t advise anyone else to ever do this without consulting a doctor.)
I laid down and entered the world of pain.
Survival in the world of pain means finding the ‘right’ position: a way to arrange one’s body to cut severe pain.
Finding the ‘right’ position and holding it for as long as possible was the focus of all of my energy and concentration.
I’d find a position only to have to find another position five minutes later.
This meant having more pain to find respite in less pain.
For all my emotional pain I have never had to deal with severe medical pain.
After it was over I had a deeper appreciation for the suffering and courage of
people in chronic pain.
Rob Goldstein 2015-2018
First published November 2015 Revised November 2018
The patients’ job in intensive psychotherapy is to ask why.
Why do I seek out women who are devoid of the capacity for love?
Why do I veer from an extreme identification with the middle class to an extreme identification with the poor?
Why do I force myself to fail economically just as I get closest to winning?
Why do I sometimes behave as if I hate myself?
I first grappled with the problem of internalized stigma during the early days of the AIDS epidemic when I wondered if the AIDS was God’s judgment.
None of the intellectual and political constructions that served me as gay activist in the 1970’s could defeat the internalized homophobia unleashed by AIDS.
I watched men die from grief, self-hatred, and fear and I was nearly one of them.
