When the Toolbox Stops Working: Living With Mental Illness and Chronic Pain

May is Mental Health Awareness Month. I wanted to share my personal experience. Mental health is real. It is not weakness. It is not attention seeking. It is not something you can simply “snap out of.” For many people, it is a daily battle fought quietly behind forced smiles, normal conversations, and everyday routines. Some days are manageable. Some days are victories. Other days are simply about surviving until tomorrow.

For a long time, I felt like I was winning that battle. I had learned the tools. I knew how to manage the anxiety, the dark thoughts, and the emotional storms. I reminded myself often: this too shall pass. This is a feeling. Just a feeling. Bad days are just bad days. They come and go.

And for a while, it worked.

I was free. I was flying like a bird. Mental health struggles had become something in the rearview mirror — still there, but distant. Occasionally it would creep back in, but I knew what to do. I would reach into the toolbox I learned from counseling and use the coping skills I had worked so hard to build.

Then life changed in a single moment.

One night, I was standing on first base as a pinch runner during a softball game. The ball was hit, and I took off toward second. At least, I tried to. My legs did not move the way they were supposed to. Something was wrong.

At first, because of the tremors I had been having in my hands, the doctors believed it might be Parkinson’s disease. At first the Parkinson’s meds worked but they were not the right ones and soon things got worse. After months of testing and appointments with neurologists, I was dismissed with no real answers. “Not Parkinson’s,” they said. “Goodbye.”

I did not give up and eventually, one neurologist listened.

Really listened.

That was when I heard the words you have: Tardive Dyskinesia (caused the shaking) and Stiff Person Syndrome (disorder characterized by fluctuating muscle rigidity in the trunk and limbs, along with severe, painful spasms triggered by noise, touch, or emotional stress.)

No cure.

Just like that, life changed again.

The medications helped with relaxing the muscles.

However, the disease has progressed.

SPS has made it so I can’t exercise. It exasperates the symptoms.  If I choose to do a project I have to understand that I will require a few days to recover without being able to do much but rest and sleep.

For years though I lived with join pain and it was worsening as well. It had become unbearable. After another year of testing, another diagnosis arrived: fibromyalgia.

Now the body hurts constantly. Every day. Every movement. Every moment.

And the hardest part? Many treatments that could help physically for the fibromyalgia, intensified the mental health struggles. Anxiety. Deep depression. Exhaustion. The mind and body became locked in a constant fight against each other.

Still, I tried to stay positive.

“No problem,” I told myself. “Get the tools out.”

But eventually I found myself asking a terrifying question:

Why aren’t the tools working anymore?

The answer isn’t complicated. It is hard to manage mental health when physical pain never stops. Chronic illness changes you. Pain wears down not only the body, but the mind and spirit. It becomes harder to find peace when your brain never lets you rest and your body never stops hurting.

So now what?

Honestly, some days I do not know.

I try to focus on moments that matter. Time with my wife. Laughs with my grandchildren. Small victories. Small smiles. Small pieces of life that remind me there is lots to live for and that there is still beauty in this world.

But some days it gets harder and harder. The pain is overwhelming. The brain gets loud. Hope feels distant.

That is why this message matters:

ALWAYS SEEK HELP!

Talk to someone. Reach out. Speak honestly. There is strength in admitting you are struggling. Whether it is a doctor, counselor, pastor, family member, or trusted friend — do not fight alone.

• Mental health is real.
• Chronic pain is real.
• The struggle is real.

But so is hope.

Even on the darkest days, keep fighting for another sunrise.

I like the quote from Cast Away (2000), “I know what I have to do now. I’ve got to keep breathing because tomorrow the sun will rise. Who knows what the tide could bring.”

So here I go again. I’m putting on that smile. I’m going to get up, get dressed, walk out the door, and face my community once more. I’ll do my best to bring you the news another day. I’ll laugh on the radio, stand beside you after the house fire, and make sure you have food, water, and the essentials to get through the night. I’ll hug you, pray with you, and remind you that you are not alone.

If you struggle with Mental Health, please reach out and get help. Together we can do this.