Laying the Foundation of an Action Plan to Hoist Myself Out of this Pit

By: Loolwa Khazzoom, Founder, Dancing with Pain

November 24th, 2010 • Living with Chronic PainPrint Print

Okay so my life is a mess right now.  My goal is to figure out what is fucked, what is going well, what I’m anxious about, and what steps I can take to optimize my positivity and healing.

Stuff that is fucked:

  1. I have not been informed of the regular maintenance schedule of leaf-blowers, lawn-mowers, tree-cutters, and garbage-disposers on this property, so I am unable to schedule my life around noisy work that may exacerbate my condition.
  2. There are banging noises coming from downstairs, seemingly every time my neighbors close doors, drawers, and cabinets — leading to shots of nerve pain and forcing me to either wear hearing protection (which, when my ear is hurting, causes pressure that makes the pain worse) or to run around my apartment, trying to avoid the noise — which sometimes is happening all over the place and is unavoidable.
  3. The auditory injury in mid-August set off a chain reaction of events that left me unable to work for well over a month and that effectively tanked my finances.  Plus I have no financial safety net.  I am scared about my ability to survive.
  4. My hearing is still compromised, and I am still in pain, from the tree-cutting incident, which exacerbated my condition.
  5. I seem to have the voice of naysayers, one in particular, lodged in my head — looking at me very disapprovingly and shaming me, indicating that if all these awful things are happening, I am somehow responsible and fucked up and an idiot and a total loser. And that makes me scared to speak or write about my experience, which in turn compromises my ability to heal and allow transformation to happen.
  6. My dad, sister, and other blood relations are toxic to my well-being, so I cannot be in contact with them. But I miss them a lot and love them unconditionally and feel grief about their absence in my life.  And in the case of my dad, I feel a sense of desperation, because time is running out for the possibility of any kind of healing and reconciliation, which, given my umpteen attempts to date, does not seem forthcoming.
  7. My health insurance is $600 a month, and if I’m off it for even a day, I may never have access to it again – because I have a “pre-existing” condition, which paradoxically, has not been recognized when I have tried to get treatment for it.

Stuff that is great:

  1. My mom is a powerful healer.  I get free and super effective energy healing treatments whenever I want them!
  2. I am living near a 50-mile bike trail, and I am biking every day.
  3. I have never been homeless.
  4. I have never gone hungry — i.e., I have never been unable to put food on the table.
  5. I am creative, talented, and full of life — all of which can help me problem-solve situations and find solutions.
  6. I have incredible accomplishments under my belt and can utilize them to secure the work I need, to get back on my feet.
  7. I am articulate and have the skills I need to communicate with people about my needs.
  8. There are resources to help me – like disability advocacy groups and chronic pain support groups. I can reach out to them and get support and encouragement.
  9. I can heal myself through dance, energy healing, positive affirmations, and actively surrounding myself with loving, compassionate, positive, healing people.

10.  I can find out about community events through the local paper and  As isolated as I feel, there are people out there, whom I have not yet met, who will become amazing friends, and I just need to get myself out there to meet them, and then follow up on those connections.

11.  I may have just a few friends, but they are extraordinary, 100% whole-being friends who are there for me in ways that I need. I also have a lot of friends that I keep forgetting about, because they are not in my daily life or immediate vicinity. But if I reach out to them, they will be there and feed me spiritually and emotionally.

12.  The owners of the storage unit in Israel, where all my personal stuff is still stashed, are incredibly compassionate and keep letting me slide on payments during rough spots. They are angels!

13.  I am living in a beautiful apartment, in a gorgeous setting. My office looks over beautiful trees and sky and grass.

14.  It is the Fall season, which is my favorite season of the year.  It is cool and raining on and off, which I love, and the trees are all kinds of beautiful colors.

15.  I live relatively close to San Francisco and Lake Tahoe, which I can visit when I get out of my crisis situation.

16.  There are 12 step support groups, both in person and on the phone, as well as other online support groups that can help me deal in healthy ways with the grief about my family, and that may be able to help me connect with those family members in ways that I stay safe — so that I get the best of both worlds.  I am hopeful about that.

17.  There are a lot of people who love me, respect me, and already help me or can help me in various ways.

18.  I have a blog, through which I can communicate with the universe exactly what I think and feel, in raw form, without having to go through the bullshit filters of editors.

19.  There are writers, musicians, bike activists, and other very cool people living in Sacramento.  I will find them when I start getting out there actively.

20.  While the management has not responded as quickly as I have needed, with regards to giving me a heads-up about noisy maintenance, they do seem far more caring and flexible than my previous apartment management.  So I have taken a step forward, and I am in fact living in a better place now.

21.  I really, really like and love myself — how I approach life; the risks I have taken to be authentic, to heal, and to transform; the ways that I have helped make this world a better place, no matter what other people say and how they judge me.

22.  I value my honesty and openness about the things with which I struggle.  I believe that other people struggle with these things to, but do so quietly, because of the very backlash and judgment that I have been facing.  If I am more active in finding, reaching out to, and connecting with these people, I will find the love, support, and community that I need, and I will create the “world” that I want.

23.  I am grateful for the ways that I was able to connect deeply with my dad and sister, when I was a kid, as well as for the ways that I was able to connect deeply with my uncle during one brief period.

24.  I am whip smart and deeply compassionate and courageous, and I have experienced life vibrantly to date – going far beyond what is deemed possible or acceptable. While I may be in a pit right now, it’s a blip on the continuum of my path. I have that foundation; it is who I am; and it is who I will become again, as I move forward. All the experiences I am having now will serve as additional information to deepen, expand, and enhance my ultimate freedom.

25.  I can dance my way to health and wellness. 

26.  I believe that nothing is permanent.  Even if doctors were to tell me that this auditory injury is permanent, I believe that I have the power inside me to shape-shift, transform, and completely heal it, as well as the rest of my body.  Who knows.  Maybe the extremity and distress of this situation will catapult me over the edge, into a profound state of existence, where I access my healing powers in a way that is more immediate and available to me than ever before.  Deeper.  Go deeper.  Go deeper.  Go deeper.

I was going to write out my action steps, but on this last note, I want to go dance.  So I will make my action steps another blog post. See ya!


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