Hi everyone. I just wanted to share a bit of my experience and, honestly, also to vent. I’ve been in

[Alouqua47]

Hi everyone. I just wanted to share a bit of my experience and, honestly, also to vent.
I’ve been in this forum for a little over a month, but I’ve been dealing with my symptoms for about seven months now. From the very beginning, they were neuropathic, with normal tests and very changeable, which was extremely frightening. I worried about serious illnesses, even though I never had any loss of strength. Still, the fact that everything moved and changed so much was terrifying.
I’ve seen a few people here with somewhat similar cases, though they seem to be in the minority. In my case, everything is neuropathic and widespread. It’s not localized or occasional—it’s there all the time. I have bilateral burning sensations in my calves that can be mild one day and stronger the next, sometimes with an electrical quality. In my arms, I experience moving electrical sensations, along with sensations in my fingers, constantly shifting and very uncomfortable.
Lately, a third type of symptom has appeared. Before, I would occasionally feel isolated sensations, but now I notice mild nerve-like or electrical sensations in different parts of my body—my face, head, neck, ear, back… even when walking or applying slight pressure. This didn’t happen before, and it feels like my system is much more active, which is very frustrating.
Sometimes I think about genetics. My father doesn’t have fibromyalgia or anything generalized like what I experience, but he does have an SMT-type symptom: burning in his feet when he lies down at night. He has always been a very anxious person, and I wonder if that influenced my nervous system. In my case, the burden feels much more widespread and constant.
I also feel that my arms have a particular history. The symptoms in my arms began during panic attacks. During one of those episodes, I felt a cold line behind my elbows, and from there the sensations started to settle in and spread. At that time, the symptoms could intensify within seconds during panic. Because of this, I feel my brain may have linked using my arms with danger. I haven’t had panic attacks for over two months now, but I still struggle to understand how my brain is supposed to relearn that my arms are safe.
At the beginning, there was a period when I felt somewhat better. The sensations in my legs were so mild that I could ignore them, and the sensations in my arms felt different—more tolerable. I don’t know if I had more good days or if the quality of the symptoms was simply different. Now everything changes more often, both in form and intensity.
I’ve read about neuroplasticity and understand, in theory, that the brain can unlearn these circuits. I know that staying calm and not reacting to symptoms as a threat is part of the process. But when symptoms are so constant and so changeable, it can be hard to trust that. Everyone improves at their own pace, and while some people recover quickly, others of us seem to have more complex situations.
Right now, I’m just trying to live my life as best I can, even though it isn’t easy. I’m not writing this looking for a perfect answer—just to share what I’m going through and hopefully connect with others who might understand this experience.

 

[Filipe2025]

Pain is anxiety/fear. Despite all the symptoms you describe. The brain can do whatever it wants. 95% of all diseases are psycossomatic. Don't be fulled by convencional fear based medicine. Your problem is your fear/anxiety.

The brain can develope cancer, swollen limbs, nerve pain, even kill you. Fight your fears. Be the master of yourself.

Please watch these video:

https://youtube.com/shorts/gWCUfcamRa0?si=_aATemk4PYDJWcyC

 

[Cactusflower]

Pain in the current moment is tied to anxiety and fear which are the “surface” feelings and emotions which are tied to deep rage and anger. Accepting and understanding emotions, layers of emotions and not being distracted by the fear and anxiety that cover and hide other emotions (which often also include joy and other “good” feelings) is the essence of wellness. Fear, anxiety and pain are all equal symptoms of TMS but not the genesis of TMS.
I think you are doing well working on your acceptance of this idea while living life. That is a great way to get some balance and teach your brain that you can live life “safely” while feeling and experiencing all its moments with confidence and self-compassion.

 

[Adam Coloretti (coach)]

Hi everyone. I just wanted to share a bit of my experience and, honestly, also to vent.
I’ve been in this forum for a little over a month, but I’ve been dealing with my symptoms for about seven months now. From the very beginning, they were neuropathic, with normal tests and very changeable, which was extremely frightening. I worried about serious illnesses, even though I never had any loss of strength. Still, the fact that everything moved and changed so much was terrifying.
I’ve seen a few people here with somewhat similar cases, though they seem to be in the minority. In my case, everything is neuropathic and widespread. It’s not localized or occasional—it’s there all the time. I have bilateral burning sensations in my calves that can be mild one day and stronger the next, sometimes with an electrical quality. In my arms, I experience moving electrical sensations, along with sensations in my fingers, constantly shifting and very uncomfortable.
Lately, a third type of symptom has appeared. Before, I would occasionally feel isolated sensations, but now I notice mild nerve-like or electrical sensations in different parts of my body—my face, head, neck, ear, back… even when walking or applying slight pressure. This didn’t happen before, and it feels like my system is much more active, which is very frustrating.
Sometimes I think about genetics. My father doesn’t have fibromyalgia or anything generalized like what I experience, but he does have an SMT-type symptom: burning in his feet when he lies down at night. He has always been a very anxious person, and I wonder if that influenced my nervous system. In my case, the burden feels much more widespread and constant.
I also feel that my arms have a particular history. The symptoms in my arms began during panic attacks. During one of those episodes, I felt a cold line behind my elbows, and from there the sensations started to settle in and spread. At that time, the symptoms could intensify within seconds during panic. Because of this, I feel my brain may have linked using my arms with danger. I haven’t had panic attacks for over two months now, but I still struggle to understand how my brain is supposed to relearn that my arms are safe.
At the beginning, there was a period when I felt somewhat better. The sensations in my legs were so mild that I could ignore them, and the sensations in my arms felt different—more tolerable. I don’t know if I had more good days or if the quality of the symptoms was simply different. Now everything changes more often, both in form and intensity.
I’ve read about neuroplasticity and understand, in theory, that the brain can unlearn these circuits. I know that staying calm and not reacting to symptoms as a threat is part of the process. But when symptoms are so constant and so changeable, it can be hard to trust that. Everyone improves at their own pace, and while some people recover quickly, others of us seem to have more complex situations.
Right now, I’m just trying to live my life as best I can, even though it isn’t easy. I’m not writing this looking for a perfect answer—just to share what I’m going through and hopefully connect with others who might understand this experience.

Hi @Alouqua47 - I've read a few of your posts and responded to one of them (not sure if you saw it), so this will really be a consolidated response to all I've read (in case you're confused if it seems to go off from what you said above slightly).

I get the impression (and this could be happening completely subconsciously as a defence mechanism) that you're at the stage in recovery (which pretty much everyone starts with, I was there too), where you want this to be as simple as I stop fearing my symptoms, respond better and they go away. This means you don't have to get into the dirt so to speak and the potential complexities that come with the emotional work. I don't blame you! Like I said, I felt the same way. Part of me thought why do I have to change anything about myself if I was the same person before and had no symptoms? Well I tried my best to go down this path and avoid the emotional work (and resisted for quite some time), but I got nowhere fast.

I also understand why you feel this way in the sense that this has actually worked for a previous symptom of yours (your foot I believe), so why not this one? To me, though, this is actually proof that this issue runs deeper. For some people, knowledge and understanding of TMS is enough. The sole reason why pain was being sent was a genuine belief that there was something structurally wrong. Once TMS is understood, and in turn that pain can occur in the absence of tissue damage, that fear dissolves and the pain goes away. There aren't underlying emotions causing fear and nervous system dysregulation (to a level where symptoms would surface, everyone suppresses and represses to an extent), so focusing on relationship to the pain is enough.

The fact that you addressed one symptom through fear but another popped straight back up is pretty good evidence to me that you need to look at this from a broader lens. Your brain/mind are trying to tell you something. Every post you've made has been hyper focused on the symptoms themselves, and I empathise with this as I know they are very challenging and they take over life, but from what I've seen that isn't where the answer is going to lie (long term).

Not only does this focus miss the emotional element, but to me it actually risks sending an implicit message (you aren't doing it on purpose) to the brain that there is actually something physically wrong (whether you are conscious of it or not). I'll give you a few examples:

1. Trying to find people with the same symptoms/experience - this is completely normal and logical, but at the same time if it's TMS then it's TMS. Theoretically, you could get the same golden insights for your recovery from someone who recovered from chronic fatigue than you could from someone with your exact symptoms. I'm not as strong on this one purely because yes having people with similar symptoms can give someone a great boost of confidence (it gave me that and I did this too), but at the end of the day and at the same time you'll never find someone with the exact same presentation, intensity, triggers etc as you. We are all in the same boat, so that should be comforting in and of itself.

2. "Others of us seem to have more complex situations" - saying this in relation to the symptoms places an overemphasis on the symptoms themselves (similar to no.1). The brain will think "well if the symptoms themselves determine the level of complexity, then by that logic that must mean that the problem (and in turn solution) is in the body part itself". Similarly, attempting to distinguish how one recovers based on the symptoms does the same thing. The only way that the symptoms themselves determine that is with structural issues! (hence it's a poor message to send to a brain which is trying to build belief in the TMS diagnosis, which is important for recovery). What really determines a "complex situation" with TMS is on the emotional side of things. As Sarno said, those with deep and more complex trauma may need a psychotherapist in order to facilitate the release of repressed emotions.

You seem to have a very solid understanding of the neuroscience behind the persistence of TMS symptoms, and you discussed what fuels the pain in previous posts and how this pattern comes to be. That's correct, but I'm more interested in how the pain came to be in the first place (the pattern itself had to start for a reason). If fear of symptoms and a lack of knowledge in TMS was all that was driving your symptoms, then I don't think you would be having new symptoms.

I would be focusing on what emotions were present in life at the time the symptoms started. I'd also be journalling about how I feel in relation to life but more specifically the people in my life. We are looking for full honesty and transparency, even if there are conflicts and the emotions are uncomfortable. It is really the shame attached to certain emotions that drive TMS from this perspective, so I'd look for emotions that I resist (for a lot of people that is anger, but it can be others), and work on becoming comfortable and accepting of them. Feeling anger, for example, is completely normal and doesn't make us a bad person (but a lot of people, at least subconsciously, think that it does - especially a lot of people with TMS). I'd also be looking at the typical personality traits (assuming they apply) of people pleasing and perfectionism and addressing how these contribute to everyday stress.

Last thing I wanted to say too is that the vast majority of people who I see truly recover (excluding those people who recover really quickly once they know and understand TMS - so I'm talking about people for whom TMS was fuelled by more than just a belief that it reflected structural damage) - they say that it became about so much more than the symptoms. I am the same. The symptoms were a sign for me that I was in reality treating myself like shit, and my mind/body had basically had enough of the internal abuse. It is easy for me to say now, but the symptoms were necessary for me to reflect and in turn create a more self-compassionate me, which benefits life in unimaginable ways. If I never had the symptoms, I'd still be as miserable as I was before them, but I wouldn't know any better (my life would be way worse, despite the years I theoretically lost). You've actually done very well to find this work within seven months.

Let me know what you think and happy to discuss further The self-led program on this site is a great place to start too as it addresses the emotional component

 

[Alouqua47]

I tend to understand this more from a neuroscience perspective than from the idea of “unprocessed emotions.” I don’t really see the purpose of digging deeply into the past or writing about painful experiences if it mainly makes me feel worse.
I can’t say I’m completely right, because many people have recovered using Sarno’s approach. However, when Sarno’s ideas are aligned with modern neuroscience, they actually fit very well. Sarno emphasized losing fear, using affirmations to create safety, acting normally, and even being firm or authoritative with the brain — all of which are essentially ways of sending safety signals to the nervous system, which matches current neurological understanding.
What makes the most sense to me is that my nervous system became sensitized after long periods of fear, anxiety, health scares (both mine and my child’s), chronic stress, and constant self-pressure. That prolonged state of threat trained my brain to stay hyper-alert.
Regarding journaling, many people recover without doing it at all. It may be just one tool, not a requirement. I actually like writing, but when I focus on past events, it often just makes me cry. Although, by exploring the past, I’ve noticed emotions I wasn’t fully aware of, such as anger, shame, fear, and insecurity. I believe my nervous system was trained over time to feel unsafe, not only in childhood but through many life experiences.
I don’t believe my symptoms are fully resolved yet; they tend to change or move rather than disappear, which is common in central sensitization. For me, understanding the neurobiology of fear, learning, and safety is more helpful than focusing on emotional analysis of the past.
That said, I genuinely don’t understand what I’m supposed to do in practice when people say I need to “find,” “allow,” or “process” emotions related to my past or my present. Could someone explain what that actually means in practical terms?

Hola @Alouqua47 - Leí algunas de tus publicaciones y respondí a una de ellas (no estoy seguro si la viste), por lo que esta será realmente una respuesta consolidada a todo lo que leí (en caso de que estés confundido si parece alejarse un poco de lo que dijiste arriba).

Tengo la impresión (y esto podría estar sucediendo de forma completamente inconsciente como un mecanismo de defensa) de que estás en la etapa de recuperación (con la que prácticamente todos comienzan, yo también estuve ahí), donde quieres que esto sea tan simple como dejar de temer a mis síntomas, responder mejor y que desaparezcan. Esto significa que no tienes que meterte en la suciedad, por así decirlo, ni en las posibles complejidades que conlleva el trabajo emocional. ¡No te culpo! Como dije, me sentí igual. Una parte de mí pensó: ¿por qué tengo que cambiar algo de mí si era la misma persona antes y no tenía síntomas? Bueno, hice todo lo posible por seguir este camino y evitar el trabajo emocional (y me resistí bastante tiempo), pero no llegué a ninguna parte rápidamente.

También entiendo por qué te sientes así, ya que esto ya ha funcionado para un síntoma anterior (creo que tu pie), así que ¿por qué no para este? Para mí, sin embargo, esto demuestra que el problema es más profundo. Para algunas personas, basta con conocer y comprender la EMT. La única razón por la que se enviaba dolor era la creencia genuina de que algo estructuralmente iba mal. Una vez que se comprende la EMT, y que el dolor puede ocurrir sin daño tisular, el miedo se disuelve y el dolor desaparece. No hay emociones subyacentes que causen miedo ni desregulación del sistema nervioso (hasta el punto de que los síntomas aflorarían, pero todos suprimimos y reprimimos hasta cierto punto), así que basta con centrarse en la relación con el dolor.

El hecho de que abordaras un síntoma por miedo, pero otro reapareciera de inmediato, me demuestra que necesitas analizarlo desde una perspectiva más amplia. Tu mente intenta decirte algo. Todas tus publicaciones se han centrado excesivamente en los síntomas en sí, y empatizo con esto, ya que sé que son muy difíciles y que dominan la vida, pero por lo que he visto, la respuesta no está ahí (a largo plazo).

Este enfoque no solo ignora el elemento emocional, sino que, en mi opinión, corre el riesgo de enviar un mensaje implícito (no lo haces a propósito) al cerebro de que algo anda mal físicamente (seas consciente de ello o no). Les daré algunos ejemplos:

1. Intentar encontrar personas con los mismos síntomas o experiencias: es completamente normal y lógico, pero si se trata de SMT, es SMT. En teoría, podrías obtener la misma información valiosa para tu recuperación de alguien que se haya recuperado de la fatiga crónica que de alguien con los mismos síntomas. No soy tan firme en esto, simplemente porque, sí, tener personas con síntomas similares puede darte una gran inyección de confianza (me la dio y también me pasó), pero al final, nunca encontrarás a alguien con la misma presentación, intensidad, desencadenantes, etc. Todos estamos en la misma situación, así que eso debería ser reconfortante.

2. "Otros parecemos tener situaciones más complejas". Decir esto en relación con los síntomas sobreestima los síntomas en sí (similar al punto 1). El cerebro pensará: "Si los síntomas determinan el nivel de complejidad, entonces, según esa lógica, el problema (y, a su vez, la solución) está en la propia parte del cuerpo". De igual manera, intentar distinguir cómo se recupera una persona basándose en los síntomas tiene el mismo efecto. ¡La única forma en que los síntomas determinan esto es con problemas estructurales! (Por lo tanto, es un mensaje deficiente para un cerebro que intenta generar confianza en el diagnóstico de SMT, que es importante para la recuperación). Lo que realmente determina una "situación compleja" con SMT es el aspecto emocional. Como dijo Sarno, quienes sufren traumas profundos y complejos pueden necesitar un psicoterapeuta para facilitar la liberación de emociones reprimidas.

Pareces tener un conocimiento muy sólido de la neurociencia que subyace a la persistencia de los síntomas del SMT, y en publicaciones anteriores hablaste sobre qué alimenta el dolor y cómo se origina este patrón. Es cierto, pero me interesa más saber cómo se originó el dolor en primer lugar (el patrón en sí tuvo que surgir por alguna razón). Si el miedo a los síntomas y la falta de conocimiento sobre el SMT fueran los únicos que los desencadenaran, no creo que estuvieras presentando síntomas nuevos.

Me centraría en las emociones presentes en mi vida al comenzar los síntomas. También escribiría en un diario sobre cómo me siento en relación con la vida, pero más específicamente con las personas que me rodean. Buscamos honestidad y transparencia plenas, incluso si hay conflictos y las emociones son incómodas. Desde esta perspectiva, es la vergüenza asociada a ciertas emociones lo que impulsa el SMT, así que buscaría emociones a las que me resisto (para mucha gente es la ira, pero también puede ser para otros) y trabajaría para sentirme cómodo y aceptarlas. Sentir ira, por ejemplo, es completamente normal y no nos convierte en malas personas (aunque mucha gente, al menos inconscientemente, cree que sí, especialmente muchas personas con SMT). También analizaría los rasgos de personalidad típicos (si es que se aplican) de complacer a los demás y el perfeccionismo, y abordaría cómo estos contribuyen al estrés diario.

Lo último que quería decir es que la gran mayoría de las personas que veo que se recuperan de verdad (excluyendo a quienes se recuperan muy rápido una vez que conocen y comprenden el SMT; me refiero a personas para quienes el SMT se vio impulsado por algo más que la simple creencia de que reflejaba un daño estructural) dicen que se convirtió en algo mucho más que los síntomas. A mí me pasa lo mismo. Los síntomas fueron una señal de que, en realidad, me estaba tratando fatal, y mi mente y mi cuerpo ya estaban hartos del abuso interno. Ahora me resulta fácil decirlo, pero los síntomas fueron necesarios para reflexionar y, a su vez, para crear una versión más autocompasiva de mí mismo, lo cual beneficia la vida de maneras inimaginables. Si nunca hubiera tenido los síntomas, seguiría siendo tan miserable como antes, pero no sabría qué hacer (mi vida sería mucho peor, a pesar de los años que teóricamente perdí). Has hecho muy bien en encontrar este trabajo en siete meses.

Déjame saber lo que piensas y estaré encantado de discutirlo más a fondo. El programa autodirigido en este sitio también es un excelente lugar para comenzar, ya que aborda el componente emocional. [/ CITA]

 

[Adam Coloretti (coach)]

I tend to understand this more from a neuroscience perspective than from the idea of “unprocessed emotions.” I don’t really see the purpose of digging deeply into the past or writing about painful experiences if it mainly makes me feel worse.
I can’t say I’m completely right, because many people have recovered using Sarno’s approach. However, when Sarno’s ideas are aligned with modern neuroscience, they actually fit very well. Sarno emphasized losing fear, using affirmations to create safety, acting normally, and even being firm or authoritative with the brain — all of which are essentially ways of sending safety signals to the nervous system, which matches current neurological understanding.
What makes the most sense to me is that my nervous system became sensitized after long periods of fear, anxiety, health scares (both mine and my child’s), chronic stress, and constant self-pressure. That prolonged state of threat trained my brain to stay hyper-alert.
Regarding journaling, many people recover without doing it at all. It may be just one tool, not a requirement. I actually like writing, but when I focus on past events, it often just makes me cry. Although, by exploring the past, I’ve noticed emotions I wasn’t fully aware of, such as anger, shame, fear, and insecurity. I believe my nervous system was trained over time to feel unsafe, not only in childhood but through many life experiences.
I don’t believe my symptoms are fully resolved yet; they tend to change or move rather than disappear, which is common in central sensitization. For me, understanding the neurobiology of fear, learning, and safety is more helpful than focusing on emotional analysis of the past.
That said, I genuinely don’t understand what I’m supposed to do in practice when people say I need to “find,” “allow,” or “process” emotions related to my past or my present. Could someone explain what that actually means in practical terms?

"What makes the most sense to me is that my nervous system became sensitized after long periods of fear, anxiety, health scares (both mine and my child’s), chronic stress, and constant self-pressure. That prolonged state of threat trained my brain to stay hyper-alert."

Agreed I also agree with you that journalling is just one tool, and not a requirement to heal (there are different ways to get to the same end goal, which I will address at the end).

The purpose of looking into the past is always to inform the present to me, it isn't for the sake of it. That's very good what you have noticed in terms of those emotions. You've answered why it is potentially important to look into the past by saying that and reflecting on those discoveries better than I could (you've actually answered in part your own question at the end too).

To use a basic example. Perfectionism obviously leads to increased stress and pressure nervous system wise (which can cause and contribute to pain). I don't think anyone would disagree with that. Now, if you could wake up tomorrow and stop being perfectionistic (I am not saying it is impossible), without delving into the past then I would agree that delving into the past would have no purpose. But we aren't born perfectionistic, so it comes from past conditioning. A lot of the time, it helps to understand what factors contributed to it and potentially what relationships led to it. A person could have no idea that their perfectionistic tendencies are being entirely driven by fear of disappointing their parents (as an example). Past reflection may lend itself to that realisation, and thereby assist the person in doing something about it. If someone just tried to be less perfect and had no idea that it was actually parental pressure that was driving it, then they'll likely fail as they haven't addressed the root cause.

I am not a fan of emotional analysis of the past for the sake of it I can assure you (and I think there is a lot of that in the world) - but if it had no purpose then psychotherapy would be a waste of time and a redundant field.

In terms of your question at the end, it's mainly to me about being comfortable with the full spectrum of emotions and not demonising any of them. The demonisation is why emotions get suppressed, but if that idea doesn't resonate then put simply the nervous system will become dysregulated and freak out (depending on which emotions have been good to us in the past and vice versa - e.g sadness might be difficult to hold if someone was punished for crying as a child). It's also to me about fully appreciating how we felt about past events, not minimising or justifying/excusing it (doesn't mean one has to dwell). Our emotional brains don't care about a logical appraisal of what happened to us, especially as children. It really comes down to self-compassion in my opinion to allow all emotions (without guilt or shame), both past and present. This lowers fear and danger in the present (from our emotions).

Having said that, I'm not sure how close anyone can get to a perfect answer there in practical terms, and I think that might be the challenge here. A part of this work is more of an art than a science, and I think that is unavoidable when emotions and the brain are in play. We might get to the point with TMS where we all agree and it will be as easy as taking a pill to get better (metaphorically), but given that the brain is the most complex thing to ever exist, it's a big ask.

 

[Joulegirl]

Just to back up what @Adam Coloretti (coach) was saying, I did journaling for the SEP program and I did it for an additional 30 days using chatgpt prompts. I gave myself 20 minutes to journal and 10 minutes to meditate in case I did feel uncomfortable and needed to settle my brain down.

This is what I learned:
1. My childhood did contribute to my TMS symptoms. I was able to forgive someone and accept that this who they are and will ever be. Because of this, I was able to set boundaries and it has worked. I feel like our relationship is the best it has ever been now. It is no longer a source of stress.
2. Sitting down with myself and really focusing on the journal prompts were a form of self care for me. I was giving myself time for me! I still do this now, but not with journaling. It can be a hobby or something that I enjoy. The point is, setting 30 minutes a day for myself has done wonders for my mental health.
3. Journaling about present things also helped me realize what was contributing to my stress. It allowed me to see what was really hurting me in my life and allowed me to figure out ways to fix it.

When most of us start out on our journey we resist journaling. I resisted journaling for about a month until I realized I was the only one who was going to do this! No one else was going to help me!

I hope that helps you look at journaling differently and maybe look at the SEP program. I highly recommend it. It was a great starting point for me!

And I do want to mention that I'm about 10 months in my journey. I'm about 75% better than where I was last year. Now, I'm living my life and using the curable app and meditations.

 

[Adam Coloretti (coach)]

Just to back up what @Adam Coloretti (coach) was saying, I did journaling for the SEP program and I did it for an additional 30 days using chatgpt prompts. I gave myself 20 minutes to journal and 10 minutes to meditate in case I did feel uncomfortable and needed to settle my brain down.

This is what I learned:
1. My childhood did contribute to my TMS symptoms. I was able to forgive someone and accept that this who they are and will ever be. Because of this, I was able to set boundaries and it has worked. I feel like our relationship is the best it has ever been now. It is no longer a source of stress.
2. Sitting down with myself and really focusing on the journal prompts were a form of self care for me. I was giving myself time for me! I still do this now, but not with journaling. It can be a hobby or something that I enjoy. The point is, setting 30 minutes a day for myself has done wonders for my mental health.
3. Journaling about present things also helped me realize what was contributing to my stress. It allowed me to see what was really hurting me in my life and allowed me to figure out ways to fix it.

When most of us start out on our journey we resist journaling. I resisted journaling for about a month until I realized I was the only one who was going to do this! No one else was going to help me!

I hope that helps you look at journaling differently and maybe look at the SEP program. I highly recommend it. It was a great starting point for me!

And I do want to mention that I'm about 10 months in my journey. I'm about 75% better than where I was last year. Now, I'm living my life and using the curable app and meditations.

That's fantastic to hear @Joulegirl! And what a brilliant summary of the benefits of journalling (number 1 I had the exact same experience and outcome with a loved one), thanks for adding benefits that I missed

 

[Diana-M]

I agree with @Joulegirl on the journaling. I have had the same experiences as a result of journaling. Also: Forgiveness of myself and others, clarity, able to set up new boundaries, diminished stress in my view of life and in my relationships.

Journaling helps. But I didn’t focus on rage. Or the past. Just let my words flow, and over time the insights came. I still use it, as needed. I can tell because I’ll be all knotted up inside. After journaling, more at peace.