Coming out of a bad pain flare is such a weird experience. You’d think it would be all positive, that life would just snap back to normal, but there’s a deeper layer to it. There’s fear, and there’s disappointment, or at least that’s been my experience.

The last month I’ve been in pain pretty much every day. Pelvic pain and back pain simultaneously, which if you’ve never experienced that combination, is a particularly brutal one. For about two weeks I’ve been doing what I’m now officially calling my “wellnessmaxxing routine,” and I genuinely feel like it’s working, though I honestly can’t tell you why. Is it the relaxation techniques? The talk therapy? The acupuncture? The pain medication? Probably all of the above.

Either way, waking up on Friday at a 2/10 pain level was bizarre. I had a lot of conflicting emotions about it. On one hand, thrilled. On the other, completely puzzled. What out of everything I’m doing actually moved the needle?

I was telling my therapist this week that there is something unsettling about experiencing the mind-body connection firsthand. Sure, we all know about it conceptually. I do a lot of reading on it both for myself and for my patients. But living it threw me off in a way I didn’t expect. I started feeling guilty, like was my inability to relax causing my stress, which caused my pain? I caught myself before I went too far down that spiral, but the feeling lingered. There’s something humbling about waking up and doing a movement that’s had you audibly groaning for a month, and suddenly nothing. No pain. It makes you question everything.

The idea that stress, tension, and past trauma can live in the body isn’t new. But it’s getting a lot of attention right now under the umbrella of nervous system regulation, and the wellness industry has fully caught on. There are pills and courses and programs promising to “fix you”. To each their own, but I believe the most effective nervous system regulation tools are just the ones humans were always meant to use. For me it started as just leaving my phone at home on walks, being consistent with 20 minutes of journaling and meditation, and protecting my peace from the things that disrupt it. Now I have definitely added in the extras, acupuncture and hypnotherapy but I don’t think those are necessarily required. You don’t have to spend thousands of dollars to feel like yourself again. Silence, boredom, and time spent with yourself are some of the most underrated tools we have, and I’m not stopping anytime soon.

Takeaways from this week for me have been the following

  1. When you come out of a flare, practice gratitude and start living your life again

  2. Tell people, don’t be afraid to jinx it

  3. Write down what you did or didn’t do that week. Learning from your body is everything

  4. Celebrate every small win. Every lower-pain day is a drop in the bucket of recovery

  5. Don’t let fear of pain stop you from living. We can’t stay in survival mode forever

Disclaimer: This post is for educational and informational purposes only. It is not medical advice, therapy, or a substitute for care from your medical or mental health team.
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