A note from me, human to human
If you live with chronic pain, I see you. I have lived with Complex Regional Pain Syndrome (CRPS) for more than twelve years. CRPS is sometimes called the “suicide disease” because it is ranked among the most painful conditions known to medicine. I know the confusion, the fear, the loss of agency, the loop of hope, and the setback. I know what it feels like to be treated like a problem rather than a person.
But here is what I have also discovered: you are not broken. You are still whole, even when your body screams otherwise. Your nervous system is doing its best to protect you, and with the right inputs and support, protection can soften, capacity can grow, and life can open up again.
My story, pain, and purpose
Before pain, I was a relatively successful advertising executive. I worked globally, leading teams and managing brands worth billions. But when CRPS took over my life, everything changed. I was dismissed -- and even fired – for disclosing my illness. That betrayal hurt almost as much as the pain itself. I realized then that if I wanted to keep going, I had to take the business acumen I had built and use it for something bigger than myself.
My focus became chronic pain recovery and reclaiming agency. Coaching saved me. If it could save me, it can save others, too. My CRPS journey began like many others: with a very real injury and very real symptoms that did not follow the normal rules. What started as a localized problem became a storm of burning and electric shocks disproportionate to anything doctors could pinpoint. That storm has a name: Complex Regional Pain Syndrome. CRPS is a form of chronic pain that often follows an injury or surgery, where the pain is out of proportion to the original tissue damage. Early diagnosis and a whole-person plan matter. And while CRPS is
challenging, improvement -- and even remission -- is possible.
For years, I felt like my life shrank. Plans were canceled, hobbies halted, relationships strained. I lost agency. I felt like a passenger in my own story. I also experienced what many of you have: medical trauma – that accumulated distress of frightening symptoms, rushed appointments, invalidating comments, and procedures that left me wary of the very system meant to help.
Learning mindfulness the hard way
In the darkest years, I looked for tools to help me survive. People told me meditation and mindfulness could help. I want to be clear, learning to meditate was incredibly hard for me. It took me about a year of daily attempts before I really began to experience its benefits. But, I knew from the evidence and studies that if I could crack the code, I would be helped.
Eventually, I did. Today, I know that if I meditate for thirty minutes, I can usually reduce a pain state by at least one point. That does not sound like much on paper, but in lived experience, it is huge. It is the difference between unbearable and manageable.
Mindfulness, meditation, and gratitude helped me create space between the raw sensation of pain and the story my mind told me about it. They are proven to calm the nervous system, reduce distress, and improve function. For me, they also rekindled hope.
You are not broken, you are whole
Chronic pain often convinces us that something is “ruined” inside. But modern pain science says otherwise. Pain is always real, and always produced by the nervous system in response to perceived threat or harm. Sometimes tissues are damaged, but often, especially in chronic pain, the system itself has become overly protective.
That does not make the pain “imagined.” It makes it biology, and biology can change. Neuroplasticity, the nervous system’s ability to adapt, is real. If your system can learn to protect too much, it can also learn to calm down and recalibrate.
Acute pain vs chronic pain, two very different stories
One of the most important distinctions to understand is the difference between acute pain and chronic pain.
· Acute pain is protective. It is the alarm that goes off when you sprain your ankle, cut your finger, or break a bone. It signals danger and usually resolves as the tissues heal. Medications like analgesics (including opioids) were designed for this kind of short-term pain (three months or less, typically). They work well for surgery, accidents, or trauma.
· Chronic pain is different. It is pain that persists beyond the expected healing time, usually defined as more than three months. In chronic pain, the nervous system can stay sensitized, keeping the alarm blaring long after the initial injury has healed.
This is why analgesics often do not work well for chronic non-cancer pain. Long-term opioid use, in particular, can actually worsen pain by changing the way the nervous system processes signals - a phenomenon called opioid – induced hyperalgesia. For many people, side effects, dependency, and reduced effectiveness make long-term opioid therapy more harmful than helpful. That does not mean you should abruptly stop medications. It means we need broader solutions that address the whole person: body, mind, nervous system, and life.
The hidden cost of medical trauma
When appointments are short and language is dismissive, many people come away feeling unsafe in healthcare settings. That matters, since safety is biology, not poetry. Medical trauma has been defined as a set of psychological and physiological responses to pain, illness, procedures, and frightening treatment experiences. Trauma-informed care starts with validation, clear communication, collaboration, and choice – all of which reduce distress and improve adherence.
Myths to release, truths to hold onto
Myth: Ongoing pain always means ongoing damage.
Truth: sensitivity can remain high even after tissues have healed. Pain is not a direct measure of injury.
Myth: Rest is best.
Truth: Rest beyond the acute phase often feeds deconditioning. Gentle, graded movement usually helps.
Myth: Education is just talk.
Truth: understanding pain science reduces fear, builds confidence, and improves outcomes.
Myth: Medication alone will fix this
Truth: Medications have a role, but on their own, they rarely resolve chronic pain. Active approaches, movement, stress regulation, pacing, and coaching are what help most.
What actually helps:
Education and reframing. Understanding pain is not damage but protection helps calm the system.
Movement. Gentle, regular movement is nourishment for nerves and tissues.
Sleep. Protecting rest is a treatment, not a luxury.
Mindfulness, meditation, and gratitude. Proven tools to regulate stress, change pain perception, and reconnect to meaning.
Support. Nobody heals in isolation. Safe, skilled support reduces distress and makes change possible.
Coaching. Guidance and accountability to apply these principles in real life.
Why support matters so much
One of the most devastating parts of chronic pain is the loss of agency, the sense that life is no longer yours to direct. Support restores agency. Having someone in your corner changes the way you face setbacks, celebrate progress, and navigate the day-to-day grind of symptoms. This is why coaching is so helpful. It is structured support for regaining control of your life.
What pain coaching is, and what it is not
Pain coaching is:
A collaborative guiding relationship focused on helping you understand pain, build skills, and set goals that matter to you.
Evidence-informed, drawing on neuroscience, behavioral psychology, and self-management principles.
Practical, helping you experiment safely with movement, pacing, stress regulation, and lifestyle strategies.
Heart-centered, rooted in compassion and validation.
Pain coaching is not:
Therapy or “telling”.
Medical diagnosis or prescription.
A replacement for doctors or physical therapists.
A quick fix.
Think of it this way: medicine treats disease, physical therapy restores function, coaching helps you solve questions, find solutions, understand this pain, and integrate it all into your daily life so you can actually live again.
From lived experience to helping others
An extraordinary part of this work is that many people who benefit from pain coaching go on to become incredible pain coaches themselves. Their lived experience gives them empathy and insight that no textbook can teach. At Pain Coach Academy, we are proud to be the leading institution for this training. Becoming a pain coach is not only a chance to give back, it is also a great opportunity for flexibility, working from home, and building a good-paying career with meaning.
Turning pain into purpose
For me, the real transformation came when I realized pain was not just something to survive, it was a call to serve. CRPS nearly destroyed me. But it also became the path that brought me to this work – to Pain Coach Academy – and to the purpose of helping others.
Debilitating as my pain still is, it has shown me that every person living with pain has purpose. You are not a burden. You are not finished. You have something to give. Part of coaching is helping you reconnect to that truth.
Because when pain takes center stage, it can feel like it has stolen everything. But with support, you can remember you are more than your pain.
A gentle starting plan
· This week, notice one moment of gratitude each day. Write it down.
· Each day, practice five minutes of mindfulness, observe your breathing, your body, or your sensation without judgment.
· Twice a day, try four-to-six breaths. Inhale for four, exhale for six. Tell your nervous system, "we are safe" literally.
· Most days, do a small, tolerable movement practice. Even five minutes counts.
· Once a week, reflect on purpose. Ask "what can I still give? What lights me up?"
You are not alone
Pain can shrink your world, but you do not have to shrink with it. With the right education, support, and coaching, you can learn to live differently with pain. Not by denying it, but by rewriting the story.
I am living proof. My pain is real, my pain is severe, my pain has not disappeared. But so has my purpose. Pain brought me here. Purpose keeps me going and thriving.
And for me, my purpose is always going to be more powerful than my pain! Please join me.
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