The Quiet Release: Losing Mind/Body Symptoms When Hope Is Gone & In The Absence Of Encouragement

In the paragraphs below is what I found to be true from my personal experience of going from being housebound and bedridden (with extremely severe muscle pain and overwhelming undue fatigue) to now functioning pretty well by comparison (albeit I am not completely mind/body symptom free). When my mind/body symptoms had worsened to the point of my being repeatedly bedridden (for many months on end) I felt extremely sorry for myself and was in despair. All I could manage to do at that time 'to get on with normal life' was to peel carrots in bed from a tray that I asked my husband to bring to me. I sobbed the whole time that I peeled those carrots at what my life had become, what I had been reduced to, how unfair it was, and I felt no hope at all of improvement, let alone recovery. I just decided to peel carrots, I guess, to stop myself from going completely mad from all my suffering... and from there, very very gradually, and quite unexpectedly, my lot improved. I hope the following will help someone somewhere...

You can begin to lose symptoms of mind and body distress even in the absence of encouragement, external support, or hope of partial or full recovery. Improvement is not always a grand breakthrough—it can be a quiet softening, a gradual loosening of symptoms when the conditions of body and brain shift in unexpected ways.

There is a common belief that progress requires optimism or cheerleading from others and, whilst that is great to have and can buoy one along, actually change often happens beneath that surface story. The nervous system does not rely on hope; it follows the rhythm of biology. Slow regulation of stress hormones and the brain’s capacity to prune old neural patterns can unfold even when despair feels permanent.

The brain holds tightly to patterns—pain, anxiety, tension—when it perceives danger or uncertainty. But when the environment or internal state changes (sometimes through sleep, rest, unexpected experiences, or shifts in neurochemistry) the brain can “decide” to let go partially or completely. This is not a conscious choice, but a response to subtle cues: reduced threat, new safety (to include in the things you may endeavour to do), recognition and/or release of anger/rage and other emotions, or simple exhaustion from old loops. Neuroplasticity, the ability of the brain to rewire itself, means that symptoms can fade as the brain drops old connections and builds new ones.

Sometimes, it looks as simple as waking up with less pain than yesterday, though nothing in your life seemed to change. Anxiety that once arrived like a storm can begin to weaken, the mind somehow tiring of old cycles. The body, too, may grow acclimated; muscles unclench, digestion steadies, sleep lengthens a little more. These changes are often quiet and fragmentary, accumulating over time—even for those who have given up hope.

You might not feel joy when this happens. You might even resist recognizing improvement because hopelessness has become familiar. But symptoms can lift quietly, in part or in whole, without deliberate force of striving and/or willpower. This is the subtle grace of survival: the mind reshapes—even when convinced it cannot—and the body responds.

Improvement does not demand certainty about the future. It can happen in fragments, in partial reliefs that accumulate over time. Even in the absence of hope or support, the brain’s instinct for homeostasis guides you toward stability, and gradually, without anyone noticing, you lose symptoms you thought would never leave.

 

Thank-you @BloodMoon !
This is pretty much my path. I was so stressed after reading some TMS books, and felt the pressure to "heal" and quickly especially to appease others around me. Then I found a series of books by Mary Ruth Velicky about her own TMS journey. She was not aware of "TMS" but calls her concerns mind/body/spirit and did the work many of us do here, but with a lot of alternative healers. What I love about her story is she utilizes the help these people offer for as long as it serves here and then she moves on to work with someone else - always as support, sometimes as guidance but she is always at the helm and never at their mercy (she was a few times, but learned those lessons!). It took her 10 years to be chronic pain and symptom free - it was gradual, painful, traumatic and often very unpleasant, but she changed immeasurably and has a great life now.
"Improvement does not demand certainty about the future. It can happen in fragments, in partial reliefs that accumulate over time. Even in the absence of hope or support, the brain’s instinct for homeostasis guides you toward stability, and gradually, without anyone noticing, you lose symptoms you thought would never leave."

I absolutely believe that this is what Dr. Sarno meant when he said get back to life.

 

Yes, it's a very good point. Great comments here indeed.