I haven't lied down once since 2:30 PM today, and my back doesn't hurt until 8:40 PM. It's not that I'm enduring the pain—it truly doesn't hurt at all. I can't believe it. Just last month, I couldn’t stay out for more than two hours (because it felt like my back would collapse if I didn’t lie down). If I absolutely had to go out, I had to find a place where I could lie down. I’ve lied down in so many places while enduring the stares of others—on park benches, bus stop seats, and even, at times, right on the sidewalk...
Today, I intentionally took a longer route to prove to myself that I could stay out for a long time. I even bought ice cream at a shop far from home.
There was also a big internal conflict. I wanted to get acupuncture treatment. I visited a friend’s house yesterday and had to sit on the floor for a long time, which I have a deep fear of. Maybe because of that, I started feeling a tense, aching pain throughout my pelvis and buttocks. (Many professionals have told me that sitting on the floor causes pelvic imbalance and leads to pain.)
But I didn’t go for acupuncture. I wanted to show myself that my body is whole and completely fine without needing treatment. I debated it until the clinic’s closing time, but instead, I went to the gym and did lower body exercises—to prove to myself that I’m fine. As a result, the pelvic pain completely disappeared. It’s as if the pain is saying, “Shoot, I couldn’t fool you this time! See you next time.”
Instead, the pain moved to my neck and back. It’s about a 2 out of 10 discomfort. I think this pain appeared because I spent time reflecting on my emotions yesterday, writing in my notebook with my head down. To be exact, I’ve been conditioned to believe that “If I write with my head down, my neck will hurt, so I can’t study.”
But now I don’t fall for TMS. I know the pain came because I needed a symptom. Students who study for hours and office workers who look at documents all live their lives just fine without neck pain. It doesn’t make sense that writing for just a few dozen minutes would make my neck hurt so badly that I can’t live my daily life.
As I write this, the pain is shifting again—now to the back of my head. Haha. This thing is really sneaky.
Today's question was to write about my anger and sadness, but honestly, I can't clearly distinguish between the two. And I'm not ready to talk about my anger and sadness yet. I think I'll try writing about them in my journal before bed. I'm learning a lot from this forum. But It's unfortunate that I can't enjoy the podcasts due to my limited English.
Today, I intentionally took a longer route to prove to myself that I could stay out for a long time. I even bought ice cream at a shop far from home.
There was also a big internal conflict. I wanted to get acupuncture treatment. I visited a friend’s house yesterday and had to sit on the floor for a long time, which I have a deep fear of. Maybe because of that, I started feeling a tense, aching pain throughout my pelvis and buttocks. (Many professionals have told me that sitting on the floor causes pelvic imbalance and leads to pain.)
But I didn’t go for acupuncture. I wanted to show myself that my body is whole and completely fine without needing treatment. I debated it until the clinic’s closing time, but instead, I went to the gym and did lower body exercises—to prove to myself that I’m fine. As a result, the pelvic pain completely disappeared. It’s as if the pain is saying, “Shoot, I couldn’t fool you this time! See you next time.”
Instead, the pain moved to my neck and back. It’s about a 2 out of 10 discomfort. I think this pain appeared because I spent time reflecting on my emotions yesterday, writing in my notebook with my head down. To be exact, I’ve been conditioned to believe that “If I write with my head down, my neck will hurt, so I can’t study.”
But now I don’t fall for TMS. I know the pain came because I needed a symptom. Students who study for hours and office workers who look at documents all live their lives just fine without neck pain. It doesn’t make sense that writing for just a few dozen minutes would make my neck hurt so badly that I can’t live my daily life.
As I write this, the pain is shifting again—now to the back of my head. Haha. This thing is really sneaky.
Today's question was to write about my anger and sadness, but honestly, I can't clearly distinguish between the two. And I'm not ready to talk about my anger and sadness yet. I think I'll try writing about them in my journal before bed. I'm learning a lot from this forum. But It's unfortunate that I can't enjoy the podcasts due to my limited English.
