Healing Through Chronic Pain
When I was really hurting, I found it helpful to read other people’s healing journeys. These stories made me feel less alone in my struggle, gave me new ideas to try, and filled me with hope that change was possible. This sense of connection was healing for me, and for that reason, I am honored to share my story with you.
At age forty-five, I was working as a physical therapist, teaching at a university, and caring for my husband and two teenagers. That’s when chronic pelvic pain pulled me out of my regular life. My bladder felt like it was really full and someone was sitting on my stomach, my pelvic-floor muscles were in knots, and my nervous system was in overdrive. Eventually, I was diagnosed with interstitial cystitis, pelvic floor dysfunction, and irritable bowel syndrome. The pain was so severe that I quit work and focused on healing for nearly a decade.
At first, I rated my pain as an eight on a scale of 1 to 10, and I was in discomfort for most of the day. I imagined being isolated, lonely, and in pain for the rest of my life, and that catastrophic thinking amplified my suffering.
Two months into the pain, in what I now appreciate was my darkest hour, I was lying in bed in tears. Suddenly, I felt a fullness in my heart and tingling sensations flowing through my body. At the same time, I felt an emotion that I can only describe as “big love,” and I simply knew I was more than my spinning mind and aching body. I sensed my essence and knew it was timeless. This revelation felt surprising and profound at the time, and it hasn’t wavered since. And that’s when my healing began.
Soon afterward, my doctor recommended I see a psychologist to help cope with the pain. During one of my first visits, the psychologist told me, “You are talking like your condition will never get better. You don’t have to resign yourself to a life of pain.” She explained that I was in charge of my own healing, and I needed to explore many options to get better. After this pep talk, I became more proactive.
I started out trying most of the recommended Western medicine treatments. I took medications orally (Cymbalta and Elmiron), as suppositories (Baclofen and Valium), and as solutions placed directly into my bladder (DMSO and Heparin). I also endured several rounds of pelvic nerve injections where numbing agents (Lidocaine and Bupivacaine) were injected once a week for 6 weeks. However, despite all these treatments, my pain levels remained high.
Over the years, I found many therapies and activities that helped me feel better, including pelvic-floor physical therapy, massage therapy, acupuncture, Reiki, yoga, and two types of holistic bodywork: John F. Barnes’ Myofascial Release and John Upledger’s CranioSacral Therapy. Each of these treatments helped calm my nervous system, which for me was a key to decreasing my pain. It was very calming to work with caregivers who were peaceful and focused on my well-being. I also found many ways to calm my body-mind on my own, and my favorites were diaphragmatic breathing, conscious relaxation, performing energy work on myself, writing, sculpting, and walking in nature.
Two years into my healing journey, I realized that my pain increased when I was emotionally stressed. From that point on, whenever the pain flared up, I spent time looking within to identify constricting thoughts, beliefs, and behaviors and to love and support myself. To help this self-discovery, I journaled and worked with therapists.
Five years into healing, I was feeling calm and relaxed during a CranioSacral therapy session when I remembered being sexually abused as a young girl by the priest who was my childhood hero. Uncovering these repressed memories was really hard, but it led to even more healing. I understood why my pain landed in the pelvic area and why it began right when my father died. My mother had passed away five years before, and when they were both no longer in the world, I was ready to begin unearthing this secret that had been buried for fifty years.
When I revisited my traumatic experiences in holistic bodywork sessions and on my own, information emerged spontaneously, and I opened up only what I felt safe enough to handle. When the information surfaced, I often felt a sense of knowing or relief, and I had an opportunity to shine a light of love on that dark area of my psyche. All this processing helped soften the vigilant patterns that I was holding onto and replaying as a result of the trauma. This processing helped release painful holding patterns in my body and helped me transform shame and fear into self-acceptance and love.
learned that on a fundamental level, we all want to be safe and survive, and our bodies and minds sometimes hold on to stressful experiences and replay them—often subconsciously. Healing is the process of acknowledging these held traumas (big and small) and softening them. Over time, my body and mind calmed down and became more fluid and free, and my pain decreased and eventually went away. I am no longer in pain, but I am still opening up, and I know this amazing process will continue for the rest of my life.
At the start of my journey, I came across a quote by the cardiologist Dean Ornish that eventually would summarize my experience:
Curing is when the physical disease gets measurably better. Healing is a process of becoming whole. Even the words heal, whole, and holy come from the same root. … In the process of healing, you reach a place of wholeness and deep inner peace from which you can deal with illness with much less fear and suffering and much greater clarity and compassion. While curing is wonderful when it occurs, healing is often more meaningful because it takes you to a place of greater freedom from suffering.
My first book, Healing through Chronic Pain, shares the details of this journey, along with practical ways to move out of pain and suffering. You can also find more healing information and inspiration on my website, lettingloveflow.com.
