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When Pain Blocks My Words by anaclark

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· @anaclark ·
$5.81
When Pain Blocks My Words
# When Pain Blocks My Words

I'm trying.  But.. 

It’s difficult to write while trapped in pain. Words feel crippled, as if something inside me is splintered and bent. Every attempt to move forward is strained, like dragging my mind through heavy mud.

And yet, the words still manifest. They press at the edges of my thoughts, restless, crowding in. I can almost see them, spilling across the walls of my mind, darkening every hallway until the light feels far away. But there’s nowhere for them to go. They’re trapped, just like me, in a tiny space without air.

I imagine what it would be like if they were released all at once, a riot of words, thrashing, pushing, and screaming over each other. There would be no order. No rhythm. Just noise.

Jumbled words become meaningless. Without structure, without clarity, they’re nothing more than the rough grunts and broken syllables of early humans. Mere Neanderthal sounds. And how suiting isthat? Pain and fear are primitive. They were here long before poetry or novels or carefully measured sentences. They are the first core feelings. The raw truths that every human, since the very beginning, has known without needing to be taught.

When I’m in pain, it’s not logic that survives. It’s instinct. My mind doesn’t want to analyze or craft, or edit. It wants to curl up, defend itself, survive. In this state, language doesn’t come in clean lines; it comes in jagged bursts in broken pieces.

I want to write. I want to shape what’s inside into something that makes sense. But the pain makes my thoughts slippery, impossible to hold. Every sentence starts, then slides away before I can anchor it.

There’s an odd kind of cruelty in it. Writing can be a release, a way to process what’s unbearable. But when the pain is sharpest, that release becomes harder to reach. It’s like being handed the key to your own escape while your hands are too weak to turn it.

Still, I try. Even if the sentences are crooked. Even if they collapse halfway. Even if I can’t find the perfect words and the paragraphs are more like fragments scattered across the floor. Because sometimes the act of pushing them out, even in their most broken form, is enough.

Pain may strip away polish, but it also strips away pretense. In its rawness, there’s honesty. No hiding. No performance. Just the truth, however messy it comes.

![](https://images.ecency.com/DQmPqmY6BCKHiuMbahVUYG5emi5dWyfts7av3YAQza3JUe5/1754364031173.jpg)

Maybe that’s the gift in writing through pain. It’s not about perfection. It’s about survival. About taking the primitive, guttural sounds of hurt and shaping them, however roughly, into something that says, I am here. I am feeling this. And it matters.

The words don’t have to be beautiful to be real. They just have to make it out of the dark.


---

Thank you.  I'm sorry. 
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vote details (489)
@holoz0r ·
$2.07
This notion that you explore, of the mind being a sequence of hallways, is a vision that I've had of my own "internal dialogue" before. It can be very much like wandering down a serpentine, labyrinth that is lined with seemingly infinite doors, yet is also, somehow a spiderweb of junctions. 

In my "head vision", its tenuously attached to twigs of a tree , writhing in the storm, buffeted by wind and rain.

I am the spider in that maze. The storm never seems to stop, but in that storm is constantly a sense of possibility, expectation, and wonder at what the storm might be. 

Chaos, as much as it may upset us, is a natural state of matter. Chaos will ever increase. 

But for some reason, we manage to order it in whatever functions occur in the space between our ears, behind our eyes. 

Don't stop writing, and don't *ever* apologise for doing it. We cannot be made to feel guilty for our requirement to express ourselves. 
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vote details (23)
@anaclark · (edited)
$0.53
RE: When Pain Blocks My Words
Your comments are better than most people's best work. 

I was not apologizing for writing- i was apologizing for being unable to write.  I apologized for the stuttering fragments. 

I love your visual analogies. If you haven't watched Looke & Key, you'll love it.
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vote details (5)
@holoz0r · (edited)
>  Looke & Key

Never heard of it, will look into it. 

> unable to write

To distort your own words, *better than most people's best work*.

No praise, just facts :) 

My visual analogies probably stem from the five years I lost exploring Visual Art at university, and getting an expensive piece of paper that hangs in a frame by the forever closed curtain that covers my window :D 
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@snook ·
On days like you are describing, I write what I call "[poemy things](https://hive.blog/poem/@snook/clouds-take-on-new-meaning)". I am not a poet or a writer but a person in pain that needs a distraction from said pain.

I can stay in bed and let the pain win, or I can roll out of bed and try to live...... Try being the keyword here...... Is being in front of a computer living? Somedays I would say yes. Somedays I would say no. BUT

# BUT

just so we are clear ....... It's BUT not BUTT! cuz those are two very different meanings........and we are all about being clear here......... because you can not get the words out.......... yet you can because I felt every word you wrote in my soul. I have lived every word you wrote and will until the day I die.......

BUT!

It is how WE chose to deal with the pain 95% of the time that counts........ we all get a free 5% daily of getting to be pissed off at why this happened to me each day. I feel that is a fair compromise for what I have to live with daily.

The rest of the 95% is spent being grateful I can get out of bed and walk downstairs to my computer.

I spent 6 months of Hell in that bedroom, one year and could not leave the bed unless I had help.........

I played the crap out of Harvest Moon on a Nintendo 64........ It was mindless and perfect for what I needed then..... No thinking, just farm chores that would bore most people to death all day every day while in bed...... waiting for another surgery so maybe I could walk.

But that was before the Blockchain........... and here we can write whatever we want...... and it helps most times..... but as long as you are writing, you are not giving up, and THAT is what makes us human........ and gives us HOPE.

And Hope is all we need. Just a glimmer. a spark. and we can last ten more days....... 

Hope is in your writing. You have it. Use it. in all the ways you can that day.

# HUGS!
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@wesphilbin ·
$0.08
@anaclark...

<div class="text-justify"> You know I get it. You just need to smile... ask @snook. Here... Try some Tryptophan...

https://youtu.be/YihAY38VkQA

</div>

<center>![love-hearts.gif](https://files.peakd.com/file/peakd-hive/wesphilbin/245TUosJPWKsyjeKNMz79AxHBCqhH6nWhV6imzCZwGAdNheo63yP3f575yac3t3RrmKbz.gif)</center><center><sup><div class="tenor-gif-embed" data-postid="17656520" data-share-method="host" data-aspect-ratio="0.75" data-width="100%"><a href="https://tenor.com/view/love-hearts-airplane-giving-love-gif-17656520">Love Hearts GIF</a>from <a href="https://tenor.com/search/love-gifs">Love GIFs</a></div> <script type="text/javascript" async src="https://tenor.com/embed.js"></script></sup></center>

👍  
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vote details (1)
@snook ·
Love You!!
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