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Cassandra Di Lalla (she/her/hers), Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

Pain is something we have all felt, and something that we will have to face in the future, too. Pain will never leave us alone, at least not permanently. It lives in our mind, our heart, in our blood, and through our veins. But, so does happiness and other positive emotions. Instead of “Pain comes, and pain goes,” it should be “Pain comes, and pain hides,” because it never disappears forever, it’s a constant.

When you have a good day or you distract yourself with positivity, fun, and exhilaration—the pain is often left behind . . . still stored somewhere within you . . . but forgotten about in that moment.

There are many forms of pain and we have all felt them without a doubt, but not all pain is felt the same way for everyone. Some people have a high tolerance and others have a low tolerance. Some can handle psychological pain better than physical; meanwhile, others can handle physical pain much better than psychological.

The pain you feel when you break your ankle doesn’t typically last beyond the standard/normal healing timeframe. Heartbreak due to the loss of a loved one, especially a parent or sibling, on the other hand? That pain is devastating and it’s permanent . . . it is always there. You are reminded of them every single day, but you cannot hold their hand, kiss their forehead, hear their voice, see their smile, make them laugh, prepare their meals, go on adventures with them, etc. You just have memories. We long for their return . . . we long for them to no ends . . . and we wish it was all just a nightmare until we realize that it’s our new reality.

I didn’t get used to the pain because that would mean I’m comfortable with the fact that I’m suffering. I tolerate the pain and that’s only because I’m taking medication for the PTSD, the panic attacks and flashbacks, and a laundry list of other things. I tolerate it because I have weekly calls with my psychotherapist. I tolerate it because other people in my life need me more than I need to be focusing on my pain. The people I do still have in my life are just as important, but I’ve sadly succumbed to my grief. This is the kind of pain that you cannot dilute in water or cover up with a bandaid, nor use Tylenol or Advil. No amount of any medication on the planet will recover the strength and courage you once had when your loved one cheered you on and gave you every reason to believe in yourself. Now, you have every reason to believe otherwise since their dancing and singing are just echoes in the back of your mind. You just sort of sit there in silence although the volume of the noise you hear in your head is decibels beyond repair.

People always say, “It’ll get better,” and I hate that . . . with every fibre of my being. Because it hasn’t gotten any better, in fact, it’s gotten worse and it continues to get worse. As the days go by, I’m just hit with the reality that with every passing moment, I get further and further away from the last time I heard my father’s voice, heard his heart beating, held his hand, told him I loved him . . . all of these things that I will never be able to have or experience again, at least in the physical world. Spirits are untouchable, and unfortunately, it’s frowned upon when you talk out loud to your loved ones as if they were still here. It may be a coping mechanism for people, and it may bring comfort knowing that they’re trying to keep their spirits alive. I become incredibly emotional and defensive about this topic because nobody, and I mean absolutely nobody, is going to tell me that things will get better. There are others who have lost their father just like I have, but that doesn’t give them the right to compare losses because it’s not only wrong on so many levels, but everyone is different and so is their grieving process. Grief is complicated. It destroys you and everything good that you had going for you, because the amount of pain you feel is like the weight of the ocean pushing you down . . . and you not being able to swim amidst the waves.

So, no, I’m not “used to” the pain, I’m simply trying to survive under the Devil’s chokehold while bearing all the pain. Death is unfriendly and we’re all on its radar, whether we like it or not. Pain will forever burden you, because pain doesn’t listen to your cry for help or your request for a favour . . . pain is a feeling without any emotions running down its spine and that’s why it doesn’t feel any remorse.

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Cassandra Di Lalla lives life purposefully. She enjoys reading, writing and mental health initiatives. She’s an animal lover for life and an innovative individual always finding new ways to create.