From Whiplash and Despair to Freedom: My TMS Recovery Story

“The part of your body where you have stored your anger is the part that has to express it” – John Lee

I finally am getting round to posting my recovery story on here - been a long time lurker and have been inspired by so many of the wonderful regular contributors on this website.

I understand that recovery stories can provide inspiration and hope but also can trigger more despair and anger that you are still experiencing pain.

I have lived both of these sides. The light and the darkness are inseparable after all.

My story contains both of these halves because without either of them recovery wouldn't have been possible.

The Accident That Changed Everything
Let’s rewind to September 2014.

I was a carefree teen, enjoying the newfound freedom of being able to drive the ‘Flying Pig’ (a weathered Nissan Micra).

On a cold November night, I was singing “Back In Black” by AC/DC at the top of my lungs. I didn’t notice the speedo climbing and before I knew it, I was at a tight corner and slid head-on into a van.

Miraculously, I walked away relatively unharmed.

I was ushered into a police car where a policeman said, “Take a good look at your car. You are very lucky, I have never seen anyone walk away from a crash like that."

The local hospital diagnosed me with mild whiplash and I was back at school in two days.

But something was said at school that cut me deeply: "Oh, it was your fault then." That comment knifed into my heart. My worst suspicions were confirmed: everyone blamed me for the crash.

Emotional Trauma and Physical Pain

“What happens in the mind of man is always reflected in the disease of his body” – René Dubos

After the crash, I had mostly manageable pain in my right shoulder. But when when my parents got divorced that all changed.

I was blind sided, confused, and in intolerable emotional pain. So intolerable that I was completely emotionally numb but they had to be expressed somehow...

My pain skyrocketed.

• Red hot pain lanced down my right leg.
• Tension headaches thundered across my brow.
• Unbearable knots of tension cracked in my right shoulder.

I ended up just surviving mostly on my bedroom floor, listening to podcasts in an attempt to distract myself.

A doctor diagnosed me with right shoulder bursitis. I got a steroid injection and nothing changed. The only change was that my pain spread: my left shoulder, arms, chest. It was my constant, unrelenting companion.

I gave up on the medical profession - I had very little trust in them anyway - and when all they could offer were pain medications I quickly become disillusioned.

I couldn't find relief. Sleep wasn't coming easily and anxiety was rising day-by-day. The only temporary fix came from drugs and alcohol and I ended up being dependent on marijuana.

Thousands of pounds were thrown at pain relief.

Thousands of hours were spent following following treatment plans from physiotherapists, osteopaths, and other alternative providers.

Relief was fleeting. The pain would come back carrying chains of shame and hopeless along with it.

My first thought every day was, "How bad is it today?"

Life shrunk and shrunk.

Eventually, I gave up fighting and moved back home. The only route forward I could see lead to more pain. I was despairing.

Discovering the Mindbody Connection

“The curious paradox is that when I accept myself just as I am, then I can change” – Carl Rodgers

After 8 years of chronic pain I gave up and accepted that this might be it. Stopped stretching, stopped googling, stopped fighting.

A distinct moment stands out as I imagined how much I wanted to be a dad but not being able to even think of it without the grief of not being able to even pick them up.

In that moment of despair an inner door gently swung ajar letting in a book that had been hidden for over a year.

‘The Mindbody Perscription’ by Dr John Sarno.

Ah, the book I previously labelled ‘psuedo-scientific bullshit’ but “What had I got to lose?”

Lightbulb. And another. And another. I lit up like a small-time celebrity had just turned on my towns Christmas lights.

Underlining, highlighting, writing notes in the margins. I finally had an explanation of my chronic pain that made sense and gave a roadmap to recovery.

I discovered Tension Myositis Syndrome (TMS) - and realised that my brain was protecting me from my repressed emotions in particular the anger at the divorce.

I had to approach my chronic pain psychologically rather than physically.

Weirdly and miraculously, that first day of reading was my first pain-free day in over 6 years. The black clouds lifted off my shoulders.

Applying the TMS Method to Heal

The pain returned. But not the despair and hopelessness.

I took a deep dive into Dr Sarno’s method with intensity and diligence.

*Perhaps a bit too much intensity as my inner perfectionist took up the task*

I studies other OGs such as Steve Ozanich, Alan Gordon, and Nicole Sachs

I journaled daily for months following Sarno's suggestion of 20 minutes about a past stressor, a current stressor, or a personality trait.

To my surprise, this practice brought up the grief, anger, and rage that has been so well hidden and and my pain intensity started to diminish.

I followed Dr Sarnos 12 Daily Reminders, repeating them aloud, writing them down, and looking at them as often as I remembered.

To reinforce the belief that my body was structurally fine I said goodbye to the orthopedic pillows, stretching bands, and standing desk.

I started exercising again. A lot. I even started running.

I thought I hated running. but I was wrong. With my new found freedom I fell in love which still burns brightly today.

What Recovery Feels Like Years Later

Three years after discoverying TMS, I am fully recovered.

Symptoms still arise now and then, but I meet them kindness, compassion, and curiosity - not panic (as much as I can anyway - still an imperfect human!!)

I live the work and the process of healing has changed me in ways that I couldn’t have imaged.

As Nicole Sachs says, 'healing from chronic pain is the biggest littlest thing you can do'

Recovery has not been all sunshine and rainbows - there have been many times of doubt, anger, increases in pain, anxiety, more tears than I even imagined possible, and shifts in how I live.

I am not the same person who started the path to healing.

Recovery was not linear – it never is.

Even now I can get caught out by new symptoms and pain before I realize that they are TMS. But that is a normal part of being human. There is no cure for that.

I cannot express enough gratitude for having chronic pain. It might sound a little bit crazy but it guided me inwards when all I had ever done in my life was run. This process has deepen and enriched my life so much that I can't help but feel thankful for the trigger that led me to this moment.

This moment right here.

 

Wow, very well-written post! Thanks for the vulnerability and honesty, what you said about being a dad really resonates with me; I've thought about how I won't be able to play catch with my future son, etc. But I'm hoping I'm on the same healing path as you! I was recovering pretty quickly, but just in the last few days seemed to take a step back. I like the reminder that recovery is not linear, that gives me hope.
So happy for you and your newfound love for running!

 

Thank you Jan - I have regularly been inspired by your contributions to this wonderful forum.

I found it essential to recognise that both responses are okay because without that insight I was adding layers of shame that I wasn't healing in the same way or timeframe as other people. More shame meant more pain so trusting that my heart would find the right message at the right time really lowered the intensity of needing to recover quickly.

This lowered the pressure on healing allowed it to happen as I just started getting on with my life.

 

Thank you Kev!

My heart is filled with hope for you and that you get to do all the things you want with future children! It is so normal to have setbacks here and there but even with the setback you are closer towards healing. I like to imagine it as concentric rings going around a mountain. We start at the bottom and as we move along the weather can sometimes be clear, sometimes be cloudy, and sometimes be pissing with rain. When it is pissing with rain, it is easy to lose sight of how far we have come but if we do manage to look up we notice that we are far further along than we started. We have tools, knowledge, and perspective that were not available to us when we were at the bottom.

I find this helpful when the doubts creep in and the pain intensity ramps up. Go well!