By Mia Maysack, PNN Columnist

The first time people told me that pain begins and ends in our minds, I was just thankful there wasn't a comic book bubble over my head -- demonstrating my thought of punching them in the face.  

But I sat there to humor them, hooked up to a machine that measured my heart and other vital signs. The irony in that moment is that the provider told me to purposefully think of something upsetting to see how I’d respond. 

I could see on the screen that my blood pressure increased. I remained polite while shoving the thought aside as to how draining this office visit was and whether it was a complete waste of time. It’s so disheartening to live like we do in the first place, but then to have an appointment that makes you feel even worse than you did on arrival.

After the Doc realized I was upset, it was brought to my attention that if I'm in need of "that sort" of help I should see another type of doctor. It got even better with the suggestion on my way out the door that I should “be positive and try visualizing an ocean -- that helps!"

That’s when I made the decision to incorporate my medical background with my passion for healing and began venturing into holistic health.

Part of the training to become a “certified life coach”' is to get one for yourself. It felt awkward initially, preparing to connect with a stranger.

But between being fed up with the traditional route and reaching a point of desperation where I'd do just about anything, this connection would serve to be one of the most important contacts of my life.

My career plans had experienced multiple screeching halts over the years, whether I attempted nursing or teaching. I went back and forth quite a bit, trying to find a way to make either of them work in any capacity. But the outcome remained the same because of my physical pain, chronic fatigue and persistent illness.

Even though I am no longer able to run the hospital floor for multiple shifts or teach a classroom of 30 students, I do still possess my course work in medicine and years of work experience, not to mention firsthand experience as a patient with the healthcare system.

It was during the first phone call with my coach that the concept of energy was shaped in a new way. It was explained how our bodies not only feel and respond to experiences, but also essentially tracks them. They get stored in our physical beings and we carry them with us, for better or worse.

I began reflecting on everything I'd planned on telling this person. How I got sick at a young age and almost died. How I went through years of rehabilitation while losing the ability to pursue my passions in life. How I’ve had relentless pain no one could possibly begin to fathom. And that I'm still mourning identities that once made up who I am. 

It struck me that none of that mattered anymore because what I chose from that moment forward is what really counts.  

At a meeting recently, I was asked about my healing journey. I explained that we must first reach our lowest point of being sick and tired of being tired and sick, and then consciously move forward — making the decision to do whatever is necessary for our own sake no matter what.

I showed them what this looked like for me: bawling my eyes out in a fetal position on the cold hard floor, begging the universe for relief, and not knowing how or if I'd be able to go on. 

We're enduring a personal hell on a continuous basis that most regular folk wouldn't be able to handle.  As far as emotions getting the best of me, they don’t anymore because I've grown to be more self-aware through the inner work that I've committed myself to.

It hasn't fixed or cured anything, and it'll continue to be a pursuit for the rest of my days. But I feel safe within my body and mind for probably the first time ever. Security is another thing we can lose as part of the pain experience. 

Nothing is nor will it ever be perfect, but I have come an extraordinary long way. I'm proud of that and believe in these concepts. I've never had more physical discomfort than I do these days but with these tools, I've also never been able to manage so well until now.

We must re-shape our perception of healing and recovery on the other side of fear. And when we're able to make it through the darkness, it then becomes our responsibility to light the way for others. It doesn't make it any easier, but we are stronger together.   

Mia Maysack lives with chronic migraine, cluster disease, fibromyalgia and arthritis. Mia is a patient advocate, the founder of Keepin’ Our Heads Up, an advocacy and support network, and Peace & Love, a wellness practice for the chronically ill and those otherwise lost or hurting.

The information in this column is for informational purposes only and represent the author’s opinions alone. It does not inherently express or reflect the views, opinions and/or positions of Pain News Network.