liatws22
New Member
Hi, folks -- so, I'm on Day 2 here. Chugging along, ups and downs. It's hard to believe that one week ago at this time, I had never heard of TMS. It seems like so much has changed in my life in less than a week. Last Sunday at this time, I had spent about 80% of my day thinking about pain and analyzing it. My inner dialogue went like this: "My posture is terrible right now, I had better fix it or I'll be in pain! Take a look at how you're walking? Move your abdomen closer to your spine; there, that's better; no, that hurts!" It was maddening.
Last week, at this time, I was sure that if I went jogging I would hurt myself even worse, that there was no way that my body was "ready" for that. I believed that if I went dancing I would hurt myself, that my body couldn't handle it. When I sat in the car, my legs and my sacrum would hurt. When I stood on the bus, my legs would hurt. Going to the movies was an emotional and physical challenge of monumental proportion.
Over the weekend, I went running and dancing and to a movie. I sat in the car as the passenger and even drove, and ... I'm fine. The pain didn't get worse. It's far less than it has been. There's a little light at the end of what has been one of the longest, darkest tunnels in my life.
It's still a little light. Hoping it'll get brighter. As I'm sitting here, I've had pain in my sacrum and down my leg. It's hard to convince myself that the pain is a distraction from fear and from emotions that my ego seems unable to bear. It's easy to take the pain seriously while I'm sitting. Sitting is how it all started, and, because I work a desk job, sitting and survival are pretty closely correlated to me. So, it's Day 2, not all roses. It's hard to not feel like a failure when I'm not 100%. I'm so hard on myself. But I have to count my blessings and miracles. Running, dancing, driving and going to the movies are nothing short of miracles.
Last week, at this time, I was sure that if I went jogging I would hurt myself even worse, that there was no way that my body was "ready" for that. I believed that if I went dancing I would hurt myself, that my body couldn't handle it. When I sat in the car, my legs and my sacrum would hurt. When I stood on the bus, my legs would hurt. Going to the movies was an emotional and physical challenge of monumental proportion.
Over the weekend, I went running and dancing and to a movie. I sat in the car as the passenger and even drove, and ... I'm fine. The pain didn't get worse. It's far less than it has been. There's a little light at the end of what has been one of the longest, darkest tunnels in my life.
It's still a little light. Hoping it'll get brighter. As I'm sitting here, I've had pain in my sacrum and down my leg. It's hard to convince myself that the pain is a distraction from fear and from emotions that my ego seems unable to bear. It's easy to take the pain seriously while I'm sitting. Sitting is how it all started, and, because I work a desk job, sitting and survival are pretty closely correlated to me. So, it's Day 2, not all roses. It's hard to not feel like a failure when I'm not 100%. I'm so hard on myself. But I have to count my blessings and miracles. Running, dancing, driving and going to the movies are nothing short of miracles.
I'm very grateful. I went running when I got home from work today. As I was running, I was thinking of something that Dr. Sarno wrote in Healing Back Pain, about how our spines are the product of millions of years of evolution. So, I imagined myself running with a group of my distant ancestors, hunting a woolly mammoth. A ridiculous image, one that made me laugh on my run but also drove the point home: if my distant ancestors could hunt woolly mammoths on foot, you bet my back is strong enough for a nice jog!