This is the second installment of a three-part series leading up to the exciting re-launch of the U.S. Pain Foundation Volunteer Network. You can read the first part here.

Envision the screen of a GPS going blank in the middle of a journey, showing nothing but a blue dot surrounded by white, empty space. No roads, no landmarks—just emptiness and the feeling of being in a place that doesn’t exist on any map.

That is what it felt like when my life and my plans for the future were upended by a fall and injury that led to the devastating diagnosis of complex regional pain syndrome (CRPS), formerly known as reflex sympathetic dystrophy (RSD).

In the first installment of this three-part series, I shared some of my pain journey and how the U.S. Pain Foundation was like my compass, guiding me toward the bright sunlight at the end of the dark tunnel I had been in for years. Through U.S. Pain, I was introduced to the fulfillment of volunteer work, which helped me take back some of my power that had been lost.

People tend to define themselves by their careers. In my role as patient engagement lead for U.S. Pain and as a peer support group leader, I often hear stories of people who have lost their way or their sense of self after having to give up their career due to pain. I was no different.

My ability to work and my dreams of becoming a mother had been stolen from me by the disabling effects of chronic pain. I didn’t know who I was anymore, other than a pain patient, and that was not how I wanted to define myself. Who was I if I was no longer a teacher? I was lost. My GPS had malfunctioned.

When I discovered U.S. Pain and learned about the work the organization was doing to improve the lives of people living with pain and their caregivers or care partners, it was as if by magic, the GPS flickered back to life. The reassuring blue line reappeared to guide me home, turning the blank screen into a map filled with clarity and direction. I felt I was being guided in the direction of volunteer work, and that ultimately played a big role in how I was able to find happiness again, despite living with severe chronic pain.

But how and why did volunteering help me, and more importantly, how can it help you?

Sense of Purpose and Empowerment

By sharing my experiences and advocating for others, I have found a renewed sense of purpose, something that was sorely lacking after the loss of my teaching career. Transforming personal pain into a tool for helping others is empowering, and it has allowed me to take back some control of my narrative and feel like I’m making a positive impact.

Community and Connection

Prior to volunteering, I was often drowning in a sea of loneliness. As a volunteer, I regularly connect with others, virtually or in-person, who have similar experiences, reducing my feelings of isolation. Building relationships with others who understand my journey provides me with emotional support and a sense of belonging.

Personal Growth and Resilience

Being a volunteer has fostered personal growth as I’ve developed new skills in public speaking, advocacy, and leadership. This role has strengthened my resilience as I’ve learned to navigate challenges and inspire others.

Improved Mental Health

Helping others and contributing to a cause has improved my mental health by boosting my self-esteem and reducing anxiety and depression. My volunteer role offers a positive outlet for dealing with my own pain.

Access to Resources and Knowledge

As a volunteer, I often have access to additional resources, education, and networks, which have enhanced my own understanding of pain management and improved my quality of life.

Influence and Change

By raising awareness and advocating for better pain management, I have had a role in influencing policies, practices, and public perceptions, which can lead to systemic changes that benefit not only myself but also the broader community.

Overall, serving as a volunteer has allowed me to turn my pain into a source of empowerment, creating a ripple effect of positive change in my own life and the lives of others. I am still a teacher. It just looks different now.

—Michele Rice, Patient Engagement Lead, U.S. Pain Foundation