Success Story continued...

I shared my success story in 2016, and I’m happy to say that as I continue to apply what I’ve learned through my pain journey, I am still a success story, almost 10 years later.

But today, I want to share a relapse story for anyone who needs to read this, because it was the stories of others that helped me understand myself.

A few days ago, the pain in my back returned with a vengeance. The last time I experienced anything quite so intense was at least a year and a half ago, maybe longer. This pain was excruciating. But I noticed a significant difference between this recent episode and my past experiences: my reaction. My response to the pain had changed.

When I say the pain came back with a vengeance, I’m not exaggerating. I went from nothing to a 7 on the pain scale overnight. I couldn’t bend down. Walking was painful. My legs didn’t feel like they were working properly. Lifting dishes out of the dishwasher made me break a sweat.

Images flashed through my mind, swelling disc bulges, fractured vertebrae, joints crushed by arthritis. I remembered the two months I spent in bed, lying straight as a board, afraid to move because the pain was so bad. This was all too familiar.

Except now I am different.

My understanding of myself has grown. My mental habits are stronger. My relationship with myself is more gentle.

Years ago, I was fortunate to work with an amazing psychologist who specializes in chronic pain. She taught me the word “equanimous.” She showed me how to hold a neutral and objective perspective on pain. As the Stoics say, don’t have an opinion about your pain, simply let it be.

That was a great first step in learning how to live, but not sufficient.

I also had to understand the threat response and the amygdala.

I can’t back up my writing with a list of references right now, I don’t have the time, but I’ll share my personal understanding and what has worked for me.

Pain is an alert to a present threat. What is that threat? It varies for each of us. It could be that we’re living lives that contradict who we are. It could be that the pressure we put on ourselves to be [insert your own word here] is disconnecting us from ourselves. It could be an inner wound that needs tending to.

In the past, I responded to pain with alarm, fright, and even horror. I didn’t respond in a neutral or equanimous way. In that highly emotional state, the fight-or-flight system flips into high gear. The dial gets turned way up, and you enter a cycle, or a cyclone, where the perceived threat level keeps climbing: up and up and up. The pain alert gets louder and louder and louder.

So how do you get out of that cycle?

Step one: Recognize the alert (in my case, the returning pain).
Step two: Catch your response (those mental images of bulging discs, crushed vertebrae, and the panicked thoughts like, “Oh no, I’m going to relapse!” or “I have so much to do!”)
Step three: Redirect your thoughts. Adopt an attitude of nonchalance, of confident understanding, and of compassion for your suffering.
Step four: Respond with compassion and confidence

I trained myself to do this. I practice it daily with my anxiety. I used it when the pain returned with a vengeance a few days ago.

Within 48 hours, I was 80% better. The day after that, I was 98% better.

So, what’s the key? The key is to recognize the threat response or pain at the start and respond with calm, gentle care and understanding. Not with catastrophizing, panic, or horror. The former stops the threat cyclone from escalating, the later pours gasoline on the fire.

There’s a quote from Marcus Aurelius I often use when dealing with anxiety or life’s frustrations and disappointments:

“The pain is not due to the thing itself, but to your estimate of it; and this you have the power to revoke at any moment.”

Another Stoic said:

“It is not the things themselves that disturb people, but their judgments about these things.”

And Shakespeare wrote:

“There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.”

The wisdom of equanimity is ancient and enduring.

This may sound crazy, but those of us who are able to experience pain in this way have received a gift.

Stay with me here. The pain is a gift. It’s a message from deep within your soul. A signal that the life you're living or the relationship you have with yourself has veered off course. It’s a call from your heart to return to yourself.

I'm thankful to everyone pursuing this type of healing, research, and clinical practice in the area of mind-body healing. Thank you for helping me.

I hope my story helps others.

 

Beautiful, insightful, persuasive! Thank you for sharing this story. It will help many!

 

Thank-you @Painfreefuture
This is where I am trying to be. It isn’t always easy, but I’m convinced the struggle helps us remember and ingrain these skills.

 

Thank you for this great post! I love what you said here. It is so true.

And this:

I believe this. Congratulations on your success!