I had TMS once. And I thought I had it beaten. I was so confident in my success that I wrote a blog, describing how I freed myself from 2 years of chronic pain. I wanted to rid the world of chronic pain by directing sufferers to Dr Sarno’s books. But now, reading this forum, I feel a seed of doubt begin to grow. A nagging, gnawing doubt. Something forgotten, something missed. Something I’ve ignored for years. I had always carried a little extra weight. A buffer zone to protect me from the world. A storehouse for hurt and shame, where anger and fear can take root and multiply. Coming up to my 40th birthday I decided I no longer wanted or needed this extra weight that I had been hauling around for so long. I joined a gym, and changed my diet and eating patterns. I began losing weight and getting fit. But after a few months at the gym, I started having backache for the first time in my life. Then in a Pilates class, my back ‘went out’ altogether, causing terrible, excruciating pain. The verdict: a prolapsed disc. Although that first pain subsided, it left me with an ongoing instability. A window for TMS. At any time, doing any activity at all, my back could ‘go out’ again. Each subsequent time this happened the pain was worse than the time before. Running parallel to this was my weight loss. As I got thinner, the pain got worse and more debilitating. Though by the time I read The Mindbody Prescription, I had given up on maintaining my healthy lifestyle. All I could do was focus on pain. As I worked through Dr Sarno’s exercises, accepted the TMS diagnosis and left pain behind, the weight came back on. To this day I carry an extra layer. Just a bit more than my body needs. A buffer zone where negative emotions can be safely repressed? Reading this forum for the first time, I stumbled directly upon a discussion of weight loss and pain gain. This triggered uncomfortable recognition. So is this a ‘success story’? Yes it is. My life was totally shut down by pain. It affected my ability to work or socialise. It stopped me from leaving the house, going to the supermarket, going for a walk, going anywhere. It meant I couldn’t cook dinner, entertain friends or live a normal life. But worst of all, it strained my relationship with my partner and limited how available I could be to our precious son. The pain is in the past but, thanks to the honesty on this forum, I realise that I still have some further work to do.