Category: Healing From Chronic Pain And Illness

I wholeheartedly believe that there are two types of depression, clinical and spiritual, yet many doctors and other people of science would probably argue otherwise, saying depression is depression, and merely results from a chemical imbalance in the body. I beg to differ, only because I’ve experienced them both, and they definitely originate from different sources.

Let me start with a look at clinical depression. I’ve been clinically depressed a number of times in my life, where my serotonin levels have been extremely low. Whenever that’s occurred, it tends to feel like I have the flu. I’m achy and lethargic, it’s hard to keep my eyes open, I want to sleep all the time yet I frequently can’t seem to. I’m usually plagued with anxiety, along with a feeling that I’m being buried alive in a casket, where there’s no escape, and where I can’t see the light. I generally have no energy, no desire to do any type of work, to be creative, to be social, or partake in anything that puts me front and center of people. To put it quite simply, when I’m clinically depressed, it really just feels like a chore to even do the smallest of task, like take a shower. And the only solution I’ve ever found when my clinical depression has reached a severe level has been to take some type of anti-depressant medication like Zoloft, Prozac, Effexor, and the like for a period of time until I could work through whatever it was that was creating the chemical imbalance in the first place. In every single case, it was always due to me either engaging in toxic behaviors, i.e. addictions, or holding onto anger, resentments or past traumatic events, refusing to face the fear of working through them. Thankfully I haven’t experienced this type of depression ever since I entered my recovery for sex and love addiction in April of 2012.

Unfortunately, I can’t say the same is true with the other form of depression I mentioned, that being spiritual depression, as I’m currently still facing that in life. But before I explain what that is, it’s important to note that when my last bout of clinical depression ended, I began working ferociously to grow closer to God through prayer, meditation, helping others, becoming more selfless, giving back, listening to happy music, doing daily gratitude journals, writing uplifting articles in this blog, remaining positive, staying away from toxic people, reading spiritually moving literature, eating healthy, spending more time in nature, and turning my life back over to Christ, amongst a number of other things as well. Because of all this, I found myself feeling a presence that I hadn’t felt in a very long time, that being of God. I experienced signs on a weekly basis, sometimes even daily, of God’s presence, in dreams, through people, through nature, and a number of other ways too. Many who knew me said I had a glow about me, which I can only attribute to that of God being very active within me. That lasted pretty consistently into the early spring of 2015. But then, that glow began to evaporate and so did the signs of God’s presence, which in turn caused my level of joy to decrease.

I attempted to double, triple, and quadruple my efforts to connect with God hoping this would counteract that. That’s when I started burying myself more in the Bible, reading more daily devotionals, writing more, sponsoring more in recovery, doing more service work, all to no avail. Then my spiritual teacher asked me to work on myself without her help anymore as summer was about to begin in 2016 and it was a huge blow mostly because I had become dependent on her to feel much of the joy that remained. Ever since, while I’ve seen plenty of God’s presence around me and felt joy for others, an emptiness remained within, one that medication didn’t and can’t fix. That’s the spiritual depression I’m speaking of.

I have remained faithful though with all my spiritual routines and continued to do the best I can to remain selfless and unconditionally loving in life, even in that absence of joy. On most days, I feel nothing but despair, and long to feel God’s presence and love within me, not just around me. But this is where it ultimately differs from clinical depression because I still have plenty of energy. I have no trouble doing my daily routines, I don’t feel like I have the flu or constant lethargy. My serotonin levels are just fine. I don’t feel like I’m being buried alive or that the world is closing in on me. I still keep my commitments and often speak in front of others with no problems. And I get out of myself on a daily basis to help others too, yet I feel little to no joy in doing any of it. That’s what spiritual depression is to me and is so very different than a clinical one. I truly wish there was some spiritual medicine I could find to change this, but alas I haven’t found one through my countless efforts. And while many who read this article might do exactly what Job’s friends attempted to do with him in the Bible, telling him it’s his fault as to why he was dealing with his circumstances, I do what he did and plead my case directly to God.

While I have no idea why I’m experiencing this spiritual depression for as long as I have God, I know that human medicine can’t fix it and that You are the only medicine that will. I know it’s not a clinical depression and although people may continue to tell me it is, or that I’m doing something wrong, or that You aren’t ever going to fix me, or that science and medicine is the only answer, or that I simply need to place greater effort out there, I know otherwise. And like Job, I will continue to wait patiently upon You, as best as I can, to provide me Your medicine, as when You do, I know my spiritual depression will finally lift and I will glow once again in all Your glory…

Peace, love, light, and joy,
Andrew Arthur Dawson

I often feel like the physical pain I regularly experience acts like a filter to the rest of the world that goes on around me. If you habitually deal with chronic pain on any level, then you probably already know what I mean by this, but if you don’t, let me explain.

Have you ever had the flu? Or some nasty virus that lasted for a short bit of time? Ever got a sinus infection that was overly painful? Or for simplistic purposes, what about a bad cold, ever got one of those? I’m sure that most of you can say yes to at least one of those and if so, then take a moment and remember how you truly felt the last time you were in the midst of any one of them.

I’d venture to say you probably didn’t like to be around others when it was going on. And I’m sure your patience level was much less with everyone and everything during those times too. Now continue to imagine yourself during your last sickness. Did you still go out to a movie, or take a stroll in nature, or dine at a restaurant, or hang out with friends, or do anything that might normally bring you some happiness when you’re not ill? If you did, I’d venture to say it was extremely challenging for you to enjoy, wasn’t it?

You see, that’s what makes it so hard for people like me who continue to deal with chronic pain. We can’t ever escape it; thus, we only have two choices. We can either remain in our homes becoming hermits or we can force ourselves to go out and attempt to do some of the things that normally would bring a person not in pain, a little happiness and joy. In my case, I have continued to do the latter, which seems to frequently go against what my mind actually wants these days, that being to remain a hermit.

Case in point, anytime I attend my men’s social group on Tuesday nights where everyone is usually laughing, joking, and connecting, I’m usually shifting uncomfortably in my seat over and over again in pain, missing out on so many of those jokes, failing to laugh, and feeling like I’m not even part of the group. That’s the pain filter I’m speaking of.

A few other good examples of this pain filter are when I go to the movies and keep having to get up and go to the bathroom or stretch, which only causes me to miss out on ever becoming fully engrossed in the film. Or when a group of friends choose to go dancing, bowling, or some other type of physical activity, where the best I can do if I go with them is watch from a bench while I ache. Or when I go to one of my many recovery meetings and fail to absorb most of what people are saying, instead hearing “blah blah blah” because I’m screaming inside my body over the level of pain I’m going through.

This is the pain filter I’m talking about and it’s like having the flu all the time. It disseminates most of the joy away from me, preventing me from ever really having a good time with anything. What’s even worse is when people tell me to smile when they see me out and about, while they themselves are living in a body that’s either medicated to numb their pain enough so that it doesn’t bother them or they’re not dealing with any pain at all. They have no concept of the pain filter I go through just to be present in the world.

Thus, I write this with the hope of providing a little education to people who aren’t having to deal with this pain filter, who don’t know what it feels like to go out and be social in the midst of having chronic pain. It’s not easy, and having fun, enjoying life, or experiencing happiness, sometimes feels next to impossible for us.

So, until you walk a day in our shoes, you’ll never truly know what the pain filter feels like, that is unless you choose to go out and be social the next time you get the flu or some other type of temporary illness. As I’m sure if you do, you’ll most likely then finally understand this pain filter we go through every day, just to step outside our homes and try to experience life like everyone else.

Try and remember that the next time you tell someone to smile at a social event who says they’re in pain, because that pain filter might not be so easy for them as it is for you. Instead, tell them you’re glad they’re there. Give them a hug. Stay away from offering advice. And really listen to what they’re going through. As there’s a good chance if you do that their pain filter might just get a little less, and they’re joy a little more…

Peace, love, light, and joy,
Andrew Arthur Dawson

“I’m so proud of you!” Those five words are something usually quite hard to come by when a person grows up in a dysfunctional family, such as in an alcohol or drug addicted home, like I did. Instead, what one usually tends to hear is the exact opposite.

In my case, the things I heard were always about trying harder, doing better, and needing to push myself more. The one example of this that still sticks in my head decades later was when I came in last place in a final heat of a swim race after qualifying through several prior rounds at the young age of twelve. When I emerged from the pool that day, my mother told me I didn’t kick hard enough, rather than saying how proud she was of me for making it as far as I did.

It’s unfortunate when children end up growing up in families where things like this happen, where they don’t normally hear their parents telling them how proud they are of their personal achievements. But in a dysfunctional home where any type of addict or even a mentally unstable parent exists, there’s a constant lack of unconditional love, which is precisely where statements of being proud of someone comes from.

I truly believe that every child in this world deserves to hear their parents tell them how proud they are of them as often as possible. From what I’ve seen in healthy families where this was done, it’s usually translated into far more self-confident individuals when they’re all grown up. But in the case of myself, since I didn’t live in a spiritually healthy home as a kid, I ended up growing up into someone who spent far too much time vying for the approval from others, just wanting anyone to tell me how proud they were of me. I jumped from one relationship to another seeking this approval, until I realized I was just ending up with the same type of person over and over again who resembled either one or both of my dysfunctional parents.

Sometimes I think that’s how the Universe operates, that the only way we can fix something that’s broken within us is to be placed in relationships that bring those very painful feelings from our past connections up to the surface. Thank goodness I came to understand this principle, as it helped me to find the willingness to actually begin working on fixing this approval-seeking part of me.

To do this, the first step I had to take was to forgive my parents for their lack of healthy parenting. In the process, I came to accept that they were sick people and did the best they could. I also placed myself in their shoes by thinking about all the times when I was an active addict and mentally unstable. Because in doing so, I saw how I was never capable of offering any type of unconditional love in that state, which included saying things like “I’m so proud of you” to someone else. I also learned through this initial step that when people are dysfunctional and addicted to something, they’re never proud of themselves, which makes it virtually impossible for them to ever be proud of anyone else.

The next step in fixing this part of me was accepting the fact that this void from my childhood was never going to be permanently filled by any person I ever had a relationship with. While any of them could tell me from time to time how proud they were of me, the feeling never lasted. I best compare this to that of a car needing gas. No matter how many times a car fills up with fuel, it always reaches empty at some point and needs to be refilled again. Hence the same principle when constantly looking to another for self-approval. It just won’t ever completely fill that void permanently. That’s why I had to learn how to start offering my own self-approval. So each time I began achieving some type of personal accomplishment, such as completing a puzzle, or doing some intense gardening work, or finishing some other project, I started telling myself how proud I was of me for my achievement.

The final step in this healing process has probably been the hardest though and it’s the one I’m still working on. While I’ve been slowly moving away from seeking that self-approval from others, I’ve continued to look for it from something far greater than myself and that’s from my Higher Power, whom I choose to call God. I long to know that God is proud of me for the work I’ve done in my life to become a more spiritually-sound and unconditionally loving person and I don’t think there’s anything unhealthy in seeking that. It really matters to me what God thinks, but the problem is that I just don’t know how to tell whether God is proud of me or not. It’s probably the biggest dilemma I have in life right now.

So, in the meantime, I continue to pray for that knowledge and do the best I can to offer it to myself instead of seeking it from others each time I make a personal accomplishment. Some days are better than others, but all in all, I know I’m leaps and bounds far healthier than I used to be with this. And somehow, I’m inclined to believe that God is actually smiling upon me, even right now, in the small achievement of writing this very article…

Peace, love, light, and joy,
Andrew Arthur Dawson