ocean_song‘s description of mornings with chronic pain is better than anything I’ve ever managed:
Waking up in the morning when you have chronic pain, is like going to sleep and suddenly being plunged into icy water. There’s the shock of finding yourself there (awake), the pain of the icy water pulling you under, and the slowly clawing your way out of there and into a safe space (consciousness and mental clarity). Every day I wake up, I have that split-second moment where I am horrified to be still alive and to be in this much pain. And often, there is that briefest wisp of wishing I was dead. I kick that thought to the curb right away. But I hate admitting that it’s there.
Slowly, as I get more awake, my coping skills and intellect snap into space enough to not take it all so seriously. But the first hour or two of the morning always sucks. And then I feel guilty for feeling so bad. That sucks too.
