So before I begin this week's post, I wanted to take the time to share with you that the images in this post are different from the other images I've used in all my previous blog posts. Usually, I search for images in the few stock images websites I belong to, and try and choose ones that resonate with me for a particular post. This time though, I used an AI graphic design program and decided to customize my images with AI drawn images of me that relate to parts of my post. Well that was really fun to create them and I think I will be doing that more often with my blog posts. To have some fun playing around with different styles and to really customize my follower's experience, rather than using royalty free images, which often aren't all that great.
Let me know what you think! I had a lot of fun coming up with the little details like the clothes I'm wearing and my signature mohawk. I'd love to hear your thoughts and if you felt these more personalized images added anything positive or negative to the post.
And now, for today's blog post:
When pain flares up, it can feel like your body’s throwing a toddler-style tantrum—loud, relentless, and completely unreasonable. You reach for your trusty heating pad, pop some meds, maybe curl up on the couch or have a bath. But what if the old tricks aren’t cutting it anymore? What if you need a new kind of comfort toolkit—something that doesn’t come in a prescription bottle or plug into the wall?
Pain flare-ups aren’t just physical—they hijack your whole world. It’s like a storm rolling in, soaking your mood, concentration, and sometimes even your hope. That’s why soothing measures that go beyond the usual suspects aren’t just “nice-to-haves.” They’re survival skills. So let’s take a walk off the beaten path and into some delightfully odd, yet surprisingly effective comfort strategies I’ve uncovered through research, and my personal experience of trial, error, and sheer desperation.
Yes, really. A chilled weighted blanket can do wonders. While I have temperature sensitivities that prevent me from using this strategy, I have read that others find this exceptionally helpful. While warm ones get all the hype, and is what I use, I’ve found that putting a smaller weighted blanket (or lap pad) in the freezer and then draping it over tense muscles offers an unexpectedly grounding experience. The cool temperature is less harsh than icing and the weight provides some comfort because cold plus gentle pressure signals your nervous system to chill out—literally and figuratively. It’s a double sensory trick that can distract your brain from the worst of the pain spiral.
Tip: Use a lap-sized weighted blanket and wrap it in a clean pillowcase before freezing to keep it fresh. Great for legs, shoulders, or even your lower back. Because the brain only has so much bandwidth, when you give it something else to focus on, like pressure or temperature, it’s like you’ve hit the mute button on pain.
There’s nothing like the oddly satisfying sounds of someone tapping a ceramic bowl to make you forget your body is on fire. ASMR (Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response) might sound like internet fluff, but it taps into your brain’s relaxation center in a weirdly effective way. My favorites? Slime squishing, ceremonial singing bowls, tuning forks, popping bubble wrap, book page flipping, and listening to a fire crackling. It may sound strange, but that’s exactly what makes it work. The novelty of listening to odd and satisfying sounds distracts your brain from looping pain signals.
Tip: Look for “binaural ASMR” on YouTube or Spotify—these use special microphones that trick your ears into feeling like someone’s whispering right beside you. ASMR is about creating a sensory bubble where your brain gets tricked into focusing on comfort and for people with chronic pain that can be a game changer.
Enter: your nose. One of your body’s fastest ways to calm the nervous system. A friend of mine stumbled upon this by accident during a migraine—sniffing a cotton ball soaked in peppermint oil gave them just enough relief to breathe. Since then, I’ve heard from them that they do what they call “scent sprints”—brief, focused smell experiences designed to reset your system. Think eucalyptus during a bath, clove and orange in a warm rice sock, or lavender under the pillow.
Tip: Use essential oils sparingly and keep them away from broken skin. Try mixing a drop of oil with lotion and massaging into pressure points (wrists, neck, behind ears). This works because smell has a direct line to the limbic system, which is the part of the brain involved in mood and memory.
Gentle movement doesn’t have to mean yoga class. Sometimes, it just means being a sentient noodle. On flare-up days when everything hurts, another friend I know puts on what they call their “Pain Playlist”—she uses slow, sometimes strange, indie beats—and they do the world’s gentlest, most awkward chair dance. No rules, just micro-movement: shoulder rolls, toe taps, neck stretches, and some wrist twirls. Moving just a little can get the endorphins flowing, break up muscle stiffness, and give you a sense of control over your body—even if it’s tiny.
Tip: Try dancing while lying down. Seriously. Even swaying your arms while supine can bring relief because even micro-movements keep the nervous system engaged in a positive way.
Comfort TV is great. But sometimes you need truly ridiculous distraction to beat the pain beast. Some like poorly acted soap operas, 2000s reality shows, and bizarre YouTube rabbit holes (ever watched someone restore a rusty knife for 3 hours? It’s weirdly soothing). I like watching old episodes of the Joy of Painting with Bob Ross, and shows that show people restoring old items or upcycling garbage into functional art, homesteading shows and what I call my fluff shows (my last fluff show was watching old episodes of Ghost Whisperer, and I’m just starting the show Ghosts (SO funny). The key isn’t quality—it’s emotional neutrality and sometimes even absurdity. These shows ask nothing of you emotionally, and that’s exactly what you need when your pain’s doing the most.
Tip: Make a “pain flare playlist” of low-stakes content so you’re not scrambling when it hits. Laughter, surprise or even mild confusion over what you are watching can reduce the perception of pain by interrupting your brain’s pain-processing pathways.
Who said fidget toys were just for kids? During flares, your hands can become tiny lifeboats. Some like to keep a drawer full of weird textures: silicone bubble wrap, kinetic sand, velvety rocks, and even a faux fur strip. I like petting my dogs and playing with my many rings. It’s not childish—it’s neuroscience. Tactile stimulation activates different sensory pathways that compete with pain signals.
Tip: Use tactile play to “bookend” your flare—start with 5 minutes before your usual meds or treatments, and 5 minutes after. This is because touch can override pain perception because it’s processed faster by the brain.
Living with chronic pain means you’re constantly negotiating with your body. Sometimes, the deal is survival. But these quirky, sensory-friendly, often hilarious comfort measures? They’re about thriving, even when your pain says otherwise.
So go ahead—freeze that weighted blanket, sniff your orange-lavender sock, and chair-dance like nobody’s watching. You’re not just managing pain. You’re creating tiny moments of joy in the middle of the storm.
And that I think, is a radical act of self-love.
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