You Know You’re Getting Old When Pain Becomes Your Best Friend

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Alright, alright alright, let’s talk about pain. You know, that delightful little companion that shows up uninvited and overstays its welcome. Physical pain, emotional pain, the whole damn seldom tasty buffet of pain. We’ve all been there, folks. The good news? You’re not alone. The bad news? It’s gonna happen again.

Now, the medical definition of pain is some fancy way of saying ‘it sucks’. You hurt physically and your body throws a tantrum. Makes perfect sense, right? But then you get this whole other emotional pain thing: Your significant other dumps you, your boss chews you out, your fantasy team that you bet on loses by a single point – suddenly, your insides feel like they’re getting wrung out by an overly enthusiastic masseur.

Here’s the kicker: everyone experiences pain differently. You got that dude at the gym grunting like he’s giving birth to a barbell while I’m over here wincing if I just look at my funny bone the wrong way. Same goes for emotional pain. One person cries over a sad movie, the next one uses it as an excuse to eat a gallon of ice cream. No judgment, by the way, been there, done that, both ways.

Now, let’s talk specifics, shall we? Physical pain: Remember when you were young and invincible? Yeah, me neither. These days, my back feels like a pretzel that’s been left out in the rain. Sleeping? More like lying in a vaguely uncomfortable position for eight hours, hoping it doesn’t turn into sciatica. And don’t even get me started on hangovers. Those are like the universe’s way of reminding you that tequila shots are a bad idea, even when my 22-year-old self didn’t listen.

Emotional pain? That one is a whole different beast. Breakups? Been there, done that, got the slightly-stalkerish ex blocked on everything. Job pain stuff? You bet your arse I have. There’ was nothing quite like the metaphysical dread that came from wondering if I wasted almost my entire adult life in a cubicle the size of a walk-in closet.

But here’s the thing about pain – physical or emotional – it to shall pass. You throw your back out shoveling the driveway? Ice, ibuprofen, and enough Netflix to make your brain melt eventually does the trick. Heartbroken because your soulmate turned out to be a lying, cheating…oh wait that was me. Time passes, psychological therapy helps (maybe), and definitely copious amounts of Chinese food takeout, all contribute to the healing process.

So to summarize: pain is a part of life. It’s gonna happen. But here’s the secret: you learn to deal with it. You find your coping mechanisms. You learn to laugh at the absurdity of it all, because trust me, sometimes that’s the only thing you can do. So the next time you’re doubled over in agony, physical or emotional, just remember – you are not alone. And hey, at least you know you’re still alive, right? Now if you’ll excuse me, I gotta go take a nap before my back gives out again.

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A Unofficial Family Feud Memoir

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Family Relationships

 

Ah, family. The people you share a significant portion of your DNA with, which for some translates to a deep and abiding love. For others, well, it’s like being stuck in a crowded elevator with a toddler who keeps smearing mashed banana on the emergency stop button. Me? My family? I fall somewhere in the “avoid eye contact at all costs” category.

They say “blood is thicker than water.” Thicker, sure. But have you ever tried to clean dried blood out of a carpet? It’s a nightmare. Water, on the other hand? Water solves most problems and it helps make a wonderful cup of tea also. Perhaps that metaphor needs a rethink?

Then there’s the whole “family first” business. Look, I get it. Loyalty’s important. But my family’s idea of a good time involves bingo nights where the biggest thrill is winning a commemorative tea towel, while at the same time harshly judging my life choices thus making “family second” looking mighty appealing.

Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t raised by wolves (though judging by my uncle Joseph’s table manners, you could be forgiven for thinking so). There were hysterically funny times – Christmas mornings spent strategically unwrapping presents to avoid the dreaded “socks again” disappointment. Birthday parties where the entertainment was watching my aunt Martha attempt the Macarena, a sight that would make even our confused cat raise an eyebrow.

But as families do, they … evolved. Evolved into a collection of human beings who, frankly, wouldn’t be my first choice for my pub quiz team, let alone a lifetime commitment. Let’s just say our family values diverged faster than a flock of pigeons spotting a discarded french fry.

There were arguments, of course. Mostly fueled by a potent cocktail of passive aggression, lukewarm sherry, and Aunt Mary’s unwavering belief that the moon landing was a hoax. Eventually, things reached a head, a glorious, messy head, a lot like a particularly enthusiastic child at a birthday cake buffet.

Estranged? You bet. Do I miss them? Look, I’ll admit, sometimes I miss having someone to blame for my questionable taste in clothing during my teenage years as displayed in almost all of our family photos. But mostly, the silence I now experience is deafeningly beautiful. It’s like finally escaping a particularly bad case of elevator music.

So, to answer your question, dear readers, my family relationships are about as functional as a chocolate teapot. But hey, who needs family when I have friends who I can actually choose to spend time with and who do not judge my Netflix queue nor question my life decisions (too much).

Besides, there’s a whole big wide world out there full of fascinating people who might share my love of obscure 1980 sitcoms and my questionable karaoke choices. Blood may be thicker than water, but friends, well, they are the Red Bull to my existential hangover. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a date with a full season of Magnum P. I. and a large pizza. Family-sized, naturally. Just kidding. I seldom share my pizza with anyone.

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