Secondary Gain Can Keep Us Stuck In Pain

Being chronically ill is a full-time job. It takes all your patience, energy, emotional wherewithal, and puts a massive dent in your wallet.

Spending a significant portion of life leapfrogging from doctor to doctor leaves just enough time to reflect on the insanity of it all. I don’t know about you, but I often want to throw my hands up and just say, “Fuck it!”

And yet, tucked discreetly between the folds of frustration, is another, surprising feeling: comfort. 

Of course we hate being sick, spending all our free time on exam tables, retelling the same sad stories to strangers in white coats. But we have to ask ourselves, if we hate it so much, why are we doing it? Or, what are we getting out of it?

This can be a controversial question to pose, the implication being: If we REALLY wanted to get better, we would. Even as the person posing the question, I still take offense to it! I’ll be the first to say I really am sick (and I know you are, too!) But, I’ll also be the first to say, we as humans have an incredible, innate healing capacity. With proper attention, many illnesses can be reversed, and downright prevented. So, what’s stopping us from giving our full attention to this?

Comfort is one of many aspects that can keep us stuck in Perpetual Patient Land. Comfort extends our stay in a place we swear we don’t want to be. If this is confusing, don’t worry, I’m going to unpack it. Once we unfold the layers, and take a closer look into the folds, we may fine some painful, yet healing truths.

Let’s peel back the layers, shall we? 

For one, we assume we seek out joyful, pleasant experiences in life, that we don’t choose to be miserable. Wrong! We seek out what is familiar, and therefore, comfortable. If pain and suffering has become familiar to you (whether a product of childhood patterns or adult chronic illness), then on some level, it will also feel comfortable.

We can’t help it - that’s all we know. This familiar pain becomes part of our identity. So, while venturing into a world in which we might actually feel healthy and empowered may seem like the ultimate goal, it can actually feel terrifying. So terrifying, we may unconsciously prefer to remain in pain. Jamie-Lynn Sigler, who has lived with MS for years aptly said, “I don’t know who I am without this illness.” It’s that push-pull of desperately wanting to heal, yet being petrified of that very thing.

When we’ve been chronically ill for many years, it becomes a way of life, and part of who we are. It can be scary to even imagine a different life.

So here we are, frequently sick, out of sheer, unconscious habit. I’m reminded of this each time I feel unwell and rush to get a new round of tests and bloodwork, only to be told, “Everything looks fine.” Then I start to wonder, with a perfectly clean bill of health, why is my body feeling crappy enough to bring me back to a doctor? Then it hits me: Habit, comfort, familiarity.

Let’s keep unfolding (yes, there’s more).

It’s been documented that many elderly people go to their doctor for loneliness. While they may not list “loneliness” on their intake form (it’s unlikely they even know this is the real reason for their visit), their bodies have given them physical symptoms, which gives them a reason to seek treatment. This, in turn, gives them someone to talk to, someone who will listen, and someone who will touch them. 

This does not apply only to the elderly. I can personally say I’ve found myself visiting doctors more frequently when I’ve felt lonelier. Whether I’m aware of my loneliness, or it manifests as a stomach ache, either way, I end up in another waiting room. You know the saying, “If our mouths can’t ask for what we need, our bodies will.” 

Then there is the issue of distraction. Being sick gives us something to focus on. After all, treating an illness provides a “project,” something to distract us from our boredom, unhappiness, unsettledness, loneliness, or otherwise painful emotions we’re desperate not to feel.

It’s not always easy to know the true nature of pain and illness. It’s complicated. Being sick is never just “all in your head,” nor is it solely physical. There are biological, emotional, and social reasons we experience physical pain. And once that pain or illness is set into motion, these intertwining facets can take time to unravel.

To truly heal, we have to both become aware of these contributing, underlying causes of our ailments, while also releasing any shame around them. There’s no shame in feeling lonely, needing validation, or repeating familiar patterns. We all do it.

Let’s start by holding space for both: the part of us that doesn’t want to be sick, and the part of us that gets some secondary gain from it (an unconscious side effect of being sick). 

Before I leave you today, I’d like to challenge you to ask yourself what you get out of being sick. The initial trigger response will likely be something like, “Nothing! I hate it!” But I challenge you to pause for a moment, unfold, and look between the crevices. If you are repeatedly getting sick (or experiencing chronic pain), ask yourself why.

What’s a constant stressor in your life that could be contributing to you feeling sick?

What “benefits” do you get from being sick?

What domino effects take place as a result of you being sick (whether intentional or unintentional)? 

Try writing it out using fill-in-the-blanks. Write out the words,  “When I get sick, __________” and then fill in the blank. Write out this sentence as many times as you want, each time filling in something different in the blank. For example:

“When I get sick, my partner takes care of me.”

“When I get sick, I don’t have to go to work.” 

“When I get sick, I complain a lot.” 

“When I get sick, it consumes me.”

Keep writing.

Maybe you won’t get all the answers right away, but even just one nugget of insight is worth its weight in medical bills.