Diana-M
Beloved Grand Eagle
Flares. Oh, how we all love to talk about them! Why? Because we’re scared. We’re afraid they might stick. Or, they’re a sign we’re getting worse. Somehow reporting it and getting sympathy feels like the way to go.
But it isn’t. First off: it’s total reinforcement to your TMS brain that you’re playing victim. Second, if it is part of your subconscious that wishes to talk to you, shouldn’t you just be listening. Not panicking? Feeling, instead of freaking?
When has a flare never failed to pass? They always pass, right? Eventually? They always do. Think about it.
So the bottom line with a flare is: you’re put out. You can’t function as well. But, is this really true?
In our crazed anxiety and shame (yes, we’re ashamed of a flare. Surely it must be our fault)—we forget to think of all the millions of ways to distract ourselves from or work around the pain or setback.
A friend of mine on this forum was bedridden and peeled vegetables in bed —to be useful and to get on with her life. And, it ended up getting her eventually out of bed. She said it was a turning point.
I’m writing a novel longhand right now with my cramped hands. It is the joy of my days. The slower speed of longhand has really helped the creative process. I had no idea it would.
Personally, I’m getting really tired of myself, judging the value of my days by symptom intensity. What am I? A lab experiment, or a person? There’s WAY more to me than nerve endings. My soul can still fly. Every single day. Unrestricted. It can fly higher all the time.
Wishing you all a beautiful flight today.
But it isn’t. First off: it’s total reinforcement to your TMS brain that you’re playing victim. Second, if it is part of your subconscious that wishes to talk to you, shouldn’t you just be listening. Not panicking? Feeling, instead of freaking?
When has a flare never failed to pass? They always pass, right? Eventually? They always do. Think about it.
So the bottom line with a flare is: you’re put out. You can’t function as well. But, is this really true?
In our crazed anxiety and shame (yes, we’re ashamed of a flare. Surely it must be our fault)—we forget to think of all the millions of ways to distract ourselves from or work around the pain or setback.
A friend of mine on this forum was bedridden and peeled vegetables in bed —to be useful and to get on with her life. And, it ended up getting her eventually out of bed. She said it was a turning point.
I’m writing a novel longhand right now with my cramped hands. It is the joy of my days. The slower speed of longhand has really helped the creative process. I had no idea it would.
Personally, I’m getting really tired of myself, judging the value of my days by symptom intensity. What am I? A lab experiment, or a person? There’s WAY more to me than nerve endings. My soul can still fly. Every single day. Unrestricted. It can fly higher all the time.
Wishing you all a beautiful flight today.
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