“Don’t Let Go”
This is a piece about pain.
Not the kind that aches after a long day. Not the kind you take an Advil for. Not even the kind that makes you cry.
This is the kind of pain that takes your name away.
That shatters your life into fragments.
That turns breathing into a risk, and eating into a dare.
This is about trigeminal neuralgia. Its about Invisable Pain, its about what so many peole go through every day… when the people around them say
“But you look fine”.
The so-called “suicide disease.
”It is not fine. It is not a quarter to fine. Have you met me? Is this your first day…”
The kind of condition that doesn’t just hurt—it steals.
Your words.
Your laughter.
Your appetite.
Your peace.
Your people.
Your ability to scream because screaming makes it worse.
I created “Don’t Let Go” during one hardest transitions of my life. It hurts to speak. Worse to cry. Brushing my teeth lately imitates being electrocuted from the inside out. & with this northeast weather (gross…), I am on FIRE.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to be here anymore.
So instead of making that decision- I made this instead. With trembling hands, clenched teeth (ow), and threads of hope that were thinner than breath.
Look closely at the piece and you’ll see:
Proverbs from the King James Bible, weathered and cracked, chosen not for religion—but for resonance. For the poetry of grief.
Fragments of my favorite books, literature that held me when nothing else could.
A brain, stitched with chaos and thread, because that’s what mine feels like.
Hands. Holding on. Holding me. Holding everything.
My own thoughts, written in.
Nickys slobber (just a tiny bit, for effect) <3
That’s what this is about.
Hope through grief.
Beauty through suffering.
Love that doesn’t leave—even when everything hurts.
I made this for the Facial Pain community. For all of us who suffer in silence. I planned to sell it and donate the proceeds to the Facial Pain Association, like I’ve done with other pieces.
But this time is different because I’m only still here—alive, upright, creating—because of one human being: Dr. Sammi.
He changed everything.
He listened when others dismissed me.
He understood when ‘another doctor’ left in lowercase on purpose (his colleague-different healthcare system) was overmedicating me and took me under his care instead.
He fought for me when I didn’t have the strength to fight for myself.
He gave me what I needed whether insurance paid or not, because my survival was more important.
So I’m giving this painting to him. Not only as a gift, but as evidence.
That I survived.
That someone cared.
That I didn’t let go.
If you’ve never heard of trigeminal neuralgia, I hope you never meet it. Its becoming more prevelant especially this year… (2025).
But if you have—if you know the pain, or love someone who does— then you already understand why I fight. Why I paint. Why I give.
I don’t make art to be pretty.
I don’t make sentimental cards - I happily will defer you to @Halmark. They do a great job. Buy those there.
I make what I feel because it’s the only way I know to say: “I’m still here. Please help us keep going.”
To everyone out there holding on by a thread:
You are seen.
You are worthy.
You are not alone.
Don’t let go.
With all the love I have left,
Dana & Nicky
