What Unexpected Chronic Back Pain Taught Me: 4 Takeaways That Matter

This year, for the first time in my life, I experienced intense chronic pain that turned everything upside down and lasted nearly four months. As someone who loves movement and lives a very active life, waking up one day with back pain that kept getting worse to the point where I couldn’t do simple daily tasks was one of the hardest experiences I’ve ever had.

Fortunately, I did get better. And from this horrible experience, I’m sharing four lessons I hope I’ll return to if something like this ever happens again.

How It Started

It all started in mid-January. One day I woke up feeling great, taught a yoga class, then taught my middle school PE students. The next morning, I woke up with strange discomfort and an inability to bend forward. Literally. I could not bend more than one inch. Try washing your face without bending forward and you’ll understand how disorienting it was. I assumed it was a minor strain that would disappear in a day or two. I’d never had back issues before.

But the pain didn’t go away. It got worse. Soon I couldn’t sleep in my bed. I moved to the floor. Then to my daughter’s room, thinking a firmer surface would help. When getting up caused violent back spasms that lasted 15 minutes or longer, I tried sleeping on a massage table so I could “slide off” and avoid spasms due to standing, but the narrow surface only led to more pain and sleep anxiety that I would somehow fall off. At one point I placed a folding table on top of my bed so I could sleep higher up on a wider surface. That didn’t work either.

Sleeping was terrible. Sitting was unbearable. Lying down on the couch was impossible. Every position triggered more pain instead of relief. I even tried wearing adult diapers one night so I wouldn’t have to get up to pee. Did it work? Absolutely not. Nothing was working.

I tried walking, because everyone says movement helps, but even that made little difference. I was taking Tylenol around the clock—1,000 mg every four hours, well above the recommended dose—because I didn’t know what else to do.

I saw doctors and specialists and even agreed to pay $4,800 to a chiropractor who confidently said he could fix me in a few months. When you are desperate, you will try almost anything. But that, like almost everything else, just led to more spasms, more pain, and eventually… depression.

Chronic pain isn’t just physical. It strips down your sense of self and disconnects you from the world around you.

After three to four months of hell, I did improve. I can move again. I can sleep in my own bed again. I’m off all pain meds. I got my life back. And now that I’m finally on the other side, here are the four biggest takeaways I want to remember, and offer to anyone else navigating something similar.

1. Meditation: A Lifeline in the Darkest Tunnel

I kept meditating throughout the whole experience. Looking back, I probably should have meditated even more. The science on meditation as a tool for pain management and healing is strong, but when you’re in the middle of pain and fear, it’s easy to forget that.

That stress response only made things worse. When the body is in a near-constant state of fear, cortisol rises, inflammation rises, and the pain cycle deepens.

Meditation didn’t magically erase the pain, but it did give me something crucial: a sense of agency and grounding. It gave my nervous system micro-moments of rest when nothing else could. It helped me separate the physical sensation from the emotional storm on top of it, the fear, the frustration, the grief. Even when nothing else worked, meditation was something I could still do, and that alone gave me a small sense of power in a situation that felt completely out of my control.

I could not have gone through this alone. I needed help getting dressed. Putting on socks became the hardest task of the day. I couldn’t wash dishes, cook, or do basic errands. I had to lean on friends and family in ways that felt very vulnerable.

One of my coworkers started sticking medicated patches on my back every morning before class and hugging me while I cried. We had met only one month prior so this was truly something I’ll never forget. I didn’t expect that kind of intimacy or kindness, but I needed it.

Chronic pain is isolating. The world keeps spinning around you while you feel frozen in suffering. And even when people ask how you are, it can feel easier to say “I’m fine” than to repeat the pain story again. I worried I was unloading too much on people, or repeating myself, or boring them, or even boring myself. But pain takes over everything. It becomes the soundtrack of your life. Pretending you’re okay makes it worse.

Chronic pain is isolating. The world keeps spinning around you while you feel frozen in suffering.

Let people in. Accept help even if it feels uncomfortable. If someone you love were going through this, you would want to support them. Let others do the same for you.

3. Advocate Relentlessly for Yourself

I went into this experience genuinely trusting that the medical system would help me. It was eye-opening to realize how many times I was offered narcotics within minutes, while no one seemed that interested in actually diagnosing the cause of my pain.

I saw multiple doctors, but no one was connecting the dots. I had to push for every referral, every test, every possibility. In the end, I now strongly suspect there was a connection between my ulcerative colitis and this sudden, severe back pain. But no one suggested that. I had to piece it together myself. And it still isn’t officially confirmed, which leaves me with lingering anxiety that it could return.

Our medical system is often set up to treat symptoms, not root causes. If I hadn’t kept questioning, kept insisting, kept searching, I might still be stuck in that pain. You know your body better than anyone. So my encouragement is to keep asking. Keep digging. Keep pushing.

4. Treat Yourself

Managing pain can drain the joy from daily life, but that’s exactly when it becomes most important to find small and big ways to bring joy back in. It might be as simple as stocking your shower with your favorite soap (Jason’s Rose body wash for example!), listening to a beloved album (“Dehd” on repeat), or ordering Thai three nights in a row because it’s the only thing that brings comfort (giant garlicky noodles please!).

During my back ordeal, at one of the lowest points when I truly wondered if I’d ever feel like myself again, I made a promise: if I could move freely again, I would get my first tattoo. The design would be the mountain in the French Alps that my family’s home faces. I love that mountain with all my heart. Now it lives on my upper arm, and every time I see it, I’m reminded that I went through something hard, and grew because of it.

The Road to Healing

My journey lasted almost 12 weeks. What a wild beginning to 2025 that was! I came out the other side with a deeper understanding of what it means to live inside a body in pain, and how to fight your way back. Now that I am pain-free, I am overflowing with gratitude for something I once took for granted: simply being able to move.

If you’re in your own battle with chronic pain, here is what I most want you to know: 

• Anchor yourself to something that brings even a moment of relief: meditation, breathwork, visualization, prayer, music. 
• Do not isolate. Let your people love you. 
• Be loud in the medical world. Keep pushing until someone listens.
• Invite more sensorial pleasure into your daily rituals. 

Pain can take so much from you. It can strip away identity, joy, confidence. But it can’t take away your ability to keep moving toward healing, even if that movement is invisible from the outside. One of my close friends offered me a metaphor that really shifted my perspective. She told me to imagine I was a diamond miner, digging and digging, exhausted, convinced I was still far from treasure. But in reality, the diamond might be just inches away, even if it feels miles out of reach. Her reminder was simple: don’t give up. Breakthroughs can happen suddenly, and everything can change for the better, even when it looks like nothing is working.

Pain can take so much from you. It can strip away identity, joy, confidence. But it can’t take away your ability to keep moving toward healing, even if that movement is invisible from the outside.

You are still here. Even in your darkest moment, there is still a way forward. So line that yellow brick path that is your life with treasure chests of joy-bursts along the way.

A Practice for When Pain Is Present

When back pain is flaring, or any kind of tension or ache feels alive in the body, this gentle meditation can help ease discomfort and open the door to reconnecting with joy.