Unthinking the Pain

The Story:

There are two kinds of pain in life: the one that life gives you, and the one your mind keeps giving you long after the moment has passed.

I didn’t understand this until my quietest breakdown came—one no one saw. Not even me, at first.

It happened not in a hospital room or during some massive tragedy, but while sipping tea alone in my small apartment on a rainy Tuesday. Everything was normal. Except I couldn’t stop crying.

Why? Nothing was technically wrong. I had a job, a roof, food, family. But I was suffering.

My mind kept replaying the same scenes:

A mistake I made years ago.

A betrayal that stung.

A version of me I used to be, who I thought I’d lost.

Things I couldn’t fix, things I couldn’t undo.

That’s when I stumbled upon a sentence in an old book that changed everything:

“Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional.”

At first, I rejected it. Who chooses to suffer? Then I realized: I was suffering because I kept thinking the pain. Over and over. Like a loop I couldn't shut off.

The Loop of Thought-Based Pain

Have you ever noticed how your mind turns one painful moment into a hundred?

A single word from someone becomes a story in your head: “They don’t respect me. I’m not worthy.”

A lost opportunity becomes a life sentence: “I’ll never get another chance.”

One bad day becomes a false identity: “I’m always like this.”

The mind isn’t trying to hurt you. It’s trying to protect you. It replays, analyzes, defends. But in doing so, it builds a prison out of thoughts—and you become the prisoner of your own pain.

Pain exists in the body. But suffering lives in the mind.

How I Started “Unthinking” the Pain

I didn’t heal overnight. But I discovered something strange: when I caught myself thinking the pain, and gently paused the loop, the suffering began to fade.

Here’s what helped me “unthink” the pain:

1. Noticing the Thought Loop

I started noticing when my mind was revisiting old hurt.

“Ah, there it is again. The regret story.”

I didn’t argue with it. I just labeled it. Noticed it. No judgment.

2. Coming Back to the Present

The present moment rarely holds suffering. Most suffering is in:

Memories (past)

Fear (future)

So I anchored myself with small things:

The feel of warm tea

The sound of birds

The breath going in and out

These weren’t “fixes,” but interruptions. They helped break the loop, gently.

3. Being Curious, Not Critical

Instead of:

“Why am I like this?”

I asked:

“What is this trying to teach me?”

Pain began to feel less like an enemy, and more like a messenger.

A Turning Point: The Day I Let a Thought Go

One night, I remembered something shameful from five years ago. I felt the familiar flush of regret rise up. But this time, I didn’t go into the spiral.

I whispered to myself:

“That happened. It hurt. But I don’t have to keep hurting myself with it.”

And then—I let the thought pass. Just like a cloud in the sky. And for the first time in a long time, I felt peace.

Not because I “solved” the problem…

…but because I stopped feeding it.

Awareness Isn’t Control. It’s Freedom.

We can’t always control our thoughts. But we can be aware of them—and awareness is the beginning of peace.

It’s like turning on the light in a dark room. The monsters you imagined shrink. You realize they were shadows made bigger by your own mind.

Final Thoughts:

Your mind can be your best friend—or your worst enemy.

Pain is part of life. But suffering? That’s the mind’s doing.

And awareness is the key that unlocks the door.

When you see your thoughts clearly—when you watch them without clinging—you begin to feel light again. Not because life got easier, but because you’re no longer dragging every painful memory like a bag of stones behind you.

You don’t need to think the pain to learn from it.

And once you stop thinking it… you start healing it.

🌟 Moral / Life Lesson:

You are not your thoughts.

You are the one who sees them.

And in that seeing, in that awareness, your suffering can begin to end.

Let go—not because the past didn’t matter,

But because you do.

----------------------------------

Thank you for reading...

Regards: Fazal Hadi