"People only seek help when they can no longer deal with their own pain," my wise friend once said.
As humans, we've all dealt with some degree of pain throughout our lives, whether it's physical or emotional. I've been no stranger to pain myself, and along the way, I received endless support from friends at every stage. Without them, I wouldn’t have survived my darkest hours, and for that, I salute them.
Because of this, I feel almost cursed with the ability to spot even the smallest ounce of pain in others. A close friend of mine says it’s a “bad trait” that makes people feel exposed, uncomfortable, and often drives them away. But honestly, I just want to help because I, too, was helped. It doesn’t make sense to me that someone would choose to suffer alone when the whole human race is here and ready to help.
Pain often comes from our deep-seated fears of inadequacy or feeling unworthy of love: I’m too fat or too ugly to be loved. I am too poor to find someone who would see me as a partner. No one loved me before, so why would anyone now? Sometimes, it’s rooted in the belief that life has been unfair to us, which is tricky because it lets us play the victim. In this mindset, we’re the good ones, life is bad, and we believe we deserve better. We also feel pain when we lose someone we love or something we thought defined our worth.
People resort to various coping mechanisms to manage their pain—whether it's work, substances, weed, alcohol, or sex. These can be unhealthy escapes, and even love can become toxic when it's used solely as a way to cope with pain.
Unresolved pain manifests as unhealthy attachment styles, strained relationships with parents, partners, or children, and sometimes even physical ailments like heart disease or autoimmune conditions. In my humble opinion, pain makes us less human, less able to listen, more distracted by trivialities that our minds convince us are important. It's like we’re filling our lives with noise to drown out the suffering within, introducing too much entropy and creating chaos in our systems that prevents us from being still.
Here’s a reality check for all of us: there's no way around it. Pain must be faced. We’re here to heal—not just ourselves, but each other. The fear of opening up to a therapist or even a friend is a small price to pay for the freedom that comes with a life where pain no longer controls us. A life where we can be still, savoring peace and silence. It’s like the choice between the red pill and the blue pill in The Matrix—would you dare to choose?