Dear Pain,

My name is Max Holihan. I am 30 years old, and I have lived with chronic pain for 27 years. This is my story. 

The year was 1992 and I was sitting at the dining room table with my mother eating a lobster. My mom brought me to Maine for the summer, as she did herself every year since before I was born, and I was just getting accustomed to the summer time experience. It was around 5:30 pm and my mom was going to a cocktail party later that night. My babysitter Lisa was soon to arrive to watch me while my mom was out for a couple of hours. 

As soon as I heard Lisa pull into our driveway I sat up on my seat and looked out the window. I was so excited, “I scream out LIsa! LIsa! LIsa!” I wanted to greet her at the door so I hopped down off my chair and ran towards the door.

My mom was not aware that I was still holding my fork and knife in my hands as I headed towards the door. 

Surly enough, I tripped. Being a wobbly little two year old just getting accustomed to his legs. 

I’m sure you have heard the old saying, “don’t run with scissors in your hands”…. Well there is a reason for that. 

As I tripped, the fork I was holding in my right hand went straight into my right eye. 

I still to this day remember the feeling of it hitting the back of my eye socket. 

At the time it felt similar to getting a piece of sand in your eye, at least that’s what I remember. 

I remember feeling ashamed for my mistake, and how I should have known better. But it was an honest mistake, one that would shape my destiny for the rest of my life. 

Following the accident I was taken to a hospital about an hour from our house. I had to undergo emergency surgery that quickly developed into an infection. Apparently lobsters have a bacteria that can cause serious issues, if not death. 

I was airlifted to Boston, where I underwent another emergency surgery. While recovering, the infection got worse, and I had to fight for my life month after month. 

I stayed in that hospital in Boston for 5 months and a total of 19 surgeries. I had been put under anesthesia more times than most adults in their life, and I wasn’t even three. 

I carried that shame of my accident with me throughout my entire childhood. Always trying to cover up why my right eye was different from all my friends. Kids will be kids, and I had to learn how to be like everyone else. Because that is what I wanted most, to be treated like everyone else. The only issue is that my eye is incredibly sensitive to light, I was blind in that eye, and it made me very self conscious. 

As I got older, the scar tissue started to develop. And by the time I was in 6th grade I started to get headaches. These headaches would make me… irritable. And from that point on I knew that this pain was probably something I was going to have to deal with. And so I did. 

The pain got worse and worse though. I was a very active kid, always wanting to play outdoors and do adventurous things, but I was hindered by this pain. 

When I entered 8th grade, my glaucoma had developed to the point where the pain was unmanageable. So I underwent my last surgery making it an even number of 20. 

My recovery from that surgery took two years. Of which I had to go back to school after 3 months. As you can imagine, the bullying I endured because of this. Being in 8th grade can be the worst time for a lot of people, and this was just the icing on the cake for me. 

I was a tough cookie though, realizing that I had been forced to “grow up” a lot faster than any of my friends. I had already dealt with so much, there was no way they could ever understand where I was coming from. So I had to get creative, to stand out in a way other than being “that kid with the weird eye”. I was dedicated to blending in or fitting in with my peers, but most of my time was spent alone. I found it best to be alone. Where I could let go of putting on a show, where I could connect with myself. I found nature to be the best teacher. That and books of philosophy. Where I learned about concepts that could immerse me in thought and take me out of my physical pain. 

Escaping. As I entered highschool, I had a new found issue. Hormones. I was obsessed with girls, the social game and a raging temper. It was at this time my mom put me into therapy as well as finding me a philosophical mentor. She had a hard time keeping up with me and my inability to process my thoughts and emotions. I was dealing with an immense amount of pressure physically, mentally and emotionally. This is also the time when I started experimenting with marijuana. My first “girlfriend” introduced me to this wonderful plant. It was the first time in a long time that I felt relief from the chronic pain. There was also an added benefit of experiencing life in a different way. I smoked a lot of weed, to the point of abusing it. Where I “depended” on the high, instead of processing the things in my life that were challenging. At some point I realized what I was doing, I was escaping, so I stopped cold turkey. The issue with that was, as soon as I stopped smoking, the pain started. 

As my life went on, I was dedicated to figuring out my personal predicament. I would try something new, see how it worked, write about it, reflect about it and learn. To this day this is how I operate. I am quick to realize things because of it, and it’s become one of my greatest skills. 

From all my experiences and experiments I have come up with a couple of things that always do the trick. Number one is exercise. This is something that I do 6 days a week. Number two is diet. Living a healthy life means eating good food. I don’t waste my time with junk food, because it sets me back for days in my progress to being at equilibrium with my eye pressure. I was vegan for about 5 years, but mostly now I eat a well balanced diet from primarily fresh produce from the farmers market. Number three is nature. Mother nature is my way of connecting with myself. We are after all a part of this marble we live on. When I am overwhelmed I can always find comfort within the patience of her. She will always be there to teach me / show me compassion, beauty and love. Number four is community. This one is something that I learned a couple of years ago, but it is something that is invaluable. Being able to have friends that support me, listen to me and help me when I am in pain has taught me a lot about myself. For if it weren’t for my friends and community, I would internalize everything that I go through. 

Being comfortable with pain sounds like an oxymoron. But that is how I choose to see it. I will never beat it, only use it as a tool for understanding my self. I have learned so much over the years, and I will help others in life who are struggling. Because I know what it’s like, and I know the strength it takes to get through it. The beautiful thing is, we all have the strength inside, and it’s the hero’s journey that brings us to peace.