No one wins in the Pain Olympics.

{image credit :: spcbrass}

Most of us have had them – those moments when we’re absolutely, positively convinced that this wrenching pain inside our souls has just got to be the biggest the world has ever seen. We think that if the if the rest of the world had to suffer this much, well… we’re pretty certain that civilization couldn’t possibly have developed as it did. We ache and we hurt and we may even feel angry that no one can know this pain inside our hearts.

And then we get back the Mr. Potato Head and feel better, right? Kidding!

In some ways, this sense that our pain is distinctive does mirror a childlike sense of uniqueness. As very young children, we see our environment as an extension of ourselves. Essentially, the world revolves around us (and it sort of does – have you seen how many toddlers own iPads?) and it takes a while to develop an awareness of other people and the fact that they experience emotions. (You mean kicking daddy in the shin hurts him?)

Now, I’m not saying we’re all a bunch of overgrown toddlers with no awareness of one another. In fact, many of us have too much awareness of one another! But our experience of our own pain can sometimes reflect that sense that no one can possibly know how this feels. And as a grown-up in the world, that’s a pretty lonely place to be.

When we perceive that our pain is somehow greater than the next guys – our day at work was harder, our mother’s cancer is in a farther stage of progression, our break-up was on Facebook and not just through text – we suddenly are gearing up for the Pain Olympics. It’s an elite event in which only the most victimized survive.

Sports featured in this daily occasion are Career, Health, Finances, Relationships, Family, and everyone’s favorite, The Universe Just Totally Screwed Me. Players battle it over out such important issues as whose trip to the dentist was more painful and who has to spend more time with creepy Uncle Sal at Thanksgiving.

The problem with the Pain Olympics is that no one ever seems to win. The battles rage on as we become more and more defeated trying to defend just how hard we have it. Our strength, the limited amount we have considering the crap we’re dealing with, slowly diminishes. And eventually, everyone seems to forfeit.

Thinking our pain is worse than others isn’t inherently bad. Heck, for all we know, it is worse! But what happens when we attach so firmly to that belief is that we find ourselves alone on an island of our pain. We’ve alienated anyone that might be able to relate – to whatever degree that might be possible – and we’ve adopted the victim role. And the victim never wins.

So how do you win the Pain Olympics? You throw down your sword and armor and you get out of the fight. That doesn’t mean defeat and it doesn’t even mean letting go of the belief that you have it worse off. It simply means dropping the battle and allowing others to help ease your pain rather than challenging it. It takes courage. And it definitely deserves a medal.

Do you ever feel like you have to defend your pain?