By Mia Maysack, PNN Columnist

As I write this, I am 33 years old.  And I've lived in pain every day for almost 23 years.

My pain has only gotten more complicated over time, more difficult to deal with and manage. It is intractable, as well as incurable. There have never been treatment options for me that truly worked, only those that temporarily masked the pain or worsened the symptoms and caused irreversible complications.

Those of you who at any point gained access to something that worked or alleviated your discomfort to any extent are privileged. Because some of us have literally not experienced that.

As a 10-year old child whose life was forever changed by a bacterial infection and near death experience, there was no other option for me than to cling desperately to the concept of  "positivity." The only other choice at that point would've been a defeatist, victim mentality:  Why did this happen to me?  I don’t deserve it. My life is ruined. There’s no hope for the future.

I still have those thoughts at times, but I consciously choose not to accept them as the final say or whole picture.  Life hadn't even begun for me when I was stricken, yet I was strong enough to stand firm in my Truth:  I'm not yet ready to die or give up on my quality of life.

As time went on, things got even harder and without any dependable relief. I was often pushed to what felt like my breaking point. It dawned on me that a “positive” attitude was not going to be enough to survive, so my thought process and mindset had to evolve.

Looking at the bright side, being thankful I wasn't dead, and acknowledging that things could have been worse (and might still be) wasn't sufficient to peel my fragmented sense of self off the cold hard floor. So, my focus in life turned to gratitude. 

I became grateful for that cold hard floor, where I could curl up in a fetal position and count my blessings. At least I was still above ground and could find solace in the ability to live on for the sake of other people, so that they wouldn't feel as rejected, alone, forsaken and shunned as I was.

This approach worked, until it didn't.

When even the “attitude of gratitude” didn't suffice, I had to re-examine it and take it all back to basics, recalling things I'd often skip over and take for granted, such as the gift of my senses, the ability to fill my lungs with air, and possessing access to endless knowledge at my fingertips.

Of course, I could never lose sight of the fact that I was incredibly lucky to still be alive, even when it didn’t feel like it.  But these beliefs were undeniable pillars that held me up through times when I couldn't move, think straight, or do anything but stay in bed and cry.

More recently, even this approach was falling short. I was sick and tired, nearing the point of no return. All the motivational tools I cultivated on my own were falling short. What do I do now?  Where do I turn?

These efforts do not come easily and certainly do not represent an absence of intrusive thoughts or negative feelings. Remaining consumed in the darkness has almost cost me everything, on more occasions than I'm able to keep track of. 

But it dawned on me early on that I had a choice. Instead of investing energy in my ailments, I could focus on my response to them. It was a no-brainer to realize that fixating on all that was wrong in my life doesn't improve it or help me feel any better. To choose that kind of suffering is far more toxic and tragic than my pain ever could be.

Mia Maysack lives with chronic migraine, cluster headache and fibromyalgia. She is the founder of Keepin’ Our Heads Up, a Facebook advocacy and support group, and Peace & Love, a wellness and life coaching practice for the chronically ill.