My name is Jonathan Eskenas and I live in Los Angeles with my wife and our dogs. I’m an executive producer of television series and movies with dozens of credits, working in the career I dreamed about as a child. I had been living the good life. The great life, indeed. Then I was diagnosed with a condition nicknamed “The Suicide Disease.”
In 2021, the pain began. It just felt like a toothache. I didn’t give it much worry. I should have. Dentist visits turned into ENT visits, then oral surgeons, and eventually neurologists as the pain spread across my face and became an unyielding agony. Ultimately, I was diagnosed with Trigeminal Neuralgia and for years battled the severe pain that the disease caused. I stopped working, stopped seeing friends, and almost stopped living. TN is nicknamed “the suicide disease” because it’s pain causes sufferers to consider… Yep. I’m one of them. There was a day last year that I nearly did it.
This past month, on September 29th, I underwent microvascular decompression surgery—a form of brain surgery—in hopes of relieving the pain. Right now, probably to be expected, the pain is worse. But as I continue to heal from the surgery, hopefully I’ll find a life where the pain is gone or at least minimized. Even a 50% reduction would be a gift! Although, I happen to have bilateral trigeminal neuralgia. So if this surgery does end up being successful, in a year I’ll have it on the other side. What a strange thing to hope will happen: “I hope I get to have another brain surgery.”
Before the surgery, I wrote a memoir about my journey with TN. In alternating chapters, I tell my painful path towards diagnosis and explore the various pains we all carry—both physical and emotional. The book is titled IT HURTS and I published it a few weeks ago.
I literally hit “publish” on Amazon just hours before going to the hospital for my surgery.
As I wrote in the book about and as I experience every day, I hurt but I love. I suffer but I smile. Trigeminal Neuralgia causes me pain, but it also helps me see the pain of others around me. I care more. I love more. I forgive more. (I’m still a jerk a lot of the time too, unless I’m coming off too pristine!!)
In the last year, I’ve reclaimed relationships that were lost before this disease. I had an uncle I hadn’t spoken with in years. After this pain nearly took my life, I reached out to him. I didn’t want to wait any longer for us to reunite. Now we speak on a daily basis, and it’s one of the bests parts of my life. That’s true of other friends and family members as well.
I can’t promise what will happen in the future, but today here I am — alive.
