Two and a half years ago I did something crazy.
I came home from a long walk, sat down at my desk, and started writing a book about chronic pain.
If you’re wondering why, let me give you some context…
(If you don’t care about context, skip down to the end.)
I have chronic pain. I’ve had it for more than a decade. (No, I haven’t been in horrible pain all that time. Uncomfortable though? You bet).
I’ve had a few bad years (2007, 2011) when pain took over my life completely, but also some good ones when I was more active in the world. Today I’m essentially in recovery from my chronic pain. My medical conditions and injuries (there are a lot of them) haven’t magically gone away, but they aren’t controlling every moment of my life, either.
Because pain has been such a big part of my life — and being in recovery is something I have to work at every single day — learning more about chronic pain has become a passion of mine. For years I have researched trends, read books and articles, tested new ideas and tools, participated in online forums, (and managed one of my own) and answered questions from people in pain who’ve asked for my help.
These activities led me to a startling realization: people in pain don’t have the resources they need to make it through the day.
- They’re having a hard time finding doctors and, when they do, their pain is often inadequately treated, leaving them isolated and scared.
- Their access to opioid medications is being restricted (few alternatives to them are being offered or are accessible), leaving them floundering.
- Their health insurance is being continually toyed with by waring political parties, leaving them in limbo.
- Their mental health issues continue to be stigmatized, leaving them ashamed.
These people — MY people, many of whom are already at their lowest point in their lives, are being dragged down even lower. I’ve seen some dragged so low they have taken their own lives. Others, like Prince who died a year ago, have been killed by the very pain medications that were supposed to help them.
On that walk two and a half years ago, I realized I could help these people. I decided if I had information in my head that could prevent even one more person in pain from dying, it was my responsibility to put that information out into the world.
So, that’s what I did.
Over the course of the next two and a half years, I wrote my new book, Chronic Pain Recovery: A Practical Guide to Putting Your Life Back Together After Everything Has Fallen Apart.
No agent would take the project on and pitch it to a publisher, so I just soldiered ahead on my own, financing the whole book out of pocket (crazy, huh?)
To be honest, I’m pretty nervous about it.
A small favor
My goal in writing this book was simply to help as many people in pain as possible. Problem is, my promotional team has just one person on it: me.
Although I’ve spent years making in-roads into the pain community, my network of connections in that world is still pretty small. As it stands right now, I only have access to a fraction of the hundreds of millions of people in the world who live with chronic pain every day.
That’s where you come in.
Would you do me a small favor and simply share information about my book with your social networks? You don’t have to do it multiple times, (but if you want to, that’s cool). You don’t have to say anything about it. Just pass along the info so it can hopefully reach the people who need it.
You may be thinking you don’t know anyone with chronic pain, but that’s probably not the case. People in pain don’t always talk about it publicly and (like me) don’t always appear to be disabled. Their pain also might not be a stand-alone problem but a symptom of a painful medical condition, such as fibromyalgia, lupus, rheumatoid arthritis, migraines, endometriosis, or a side-effect of treatments for others, like cancer.
In other words, pain touches many lives in many ways. I hope this book will touch them too, bringing some relief to these people who need it most. And I thank you, in advance, for helping make it happen.