I’m not cranky, I’m in pain…

I’m not cranky, I’m in pain. And, as simple as that statement sounds, it holds more weight than you might think. For anyone who’s ever experienced chronic pain, you know exactly what I mean. Pain isn’t just a feeling in your body. It’s a force that tugs at every corner of your life, chipping away at your patience, joy, and even your ability to think straight.

There are days when I wake up, and it feels like someone hit the “mute” button on the world’s beauty. The sky might be blue, birds might be singing, but when my body aches so intensely, all those little wonders seem far away. It’s not that I’m ungrateful for the good things around me. It’s just that pain has this incredible ability to wrap itself around everything I try to do. It makes each moment feel like I’m dragging a ball and chain behind my chair.

You see, pain is invisible. And because it’s invisible, it’s often misunderstood. People look at me and think I’m just being irritable or short-tempered, but what they don’t see is the struggle beneath the surface. What they don’t know is that every smile, every laugh, and every polite conversation is wrapped in layers of discomfort. The effort it takes to push that pain down and be present with people sometimes feels like running (rolling!) a marathon on broken legs.

I don’t want to be this way. I don’t want to snap at my loved ones or pull away from the important people in my life. I’m not choosing to be cranky or to distance myself. I’m trying to survive this day and the next and the one after that, all while wearing a mask that says, “I’m fine.”

But the truth is, I’m not always fine. And I know that’s okay. It’s okay to say it out loud. It’s okay to admit that some days are harder than others. On those days, I need a little more patience, a little more kindness, and a little more understanding.

So, the next time you see me withdraw or catch that edge in my voice, please remember this: I’m not cranky, I’m in pain. I’m doing my best to live in a body that sometimes feels like it’s fighting against me. All I really need is your empathy, your compassion, and maybe a reminder that I’m not alone in this battle. Because…I’m not cranky. I’m just hurting.

There will be days when the weight of the pain will lessen, and moments when I will find relief. The past couple of decades have taught me that healing comes in waves. There are good days and tough days, and I know that those brighter, more manageable moments will eventually become more frequent. I will hold on to the hope that even in the darkest times, light and comfort will return. I know that pain does get better. In time, I’ll be able to face life again with even greater resilience and peace.