What are your body signs of stress?
Mine was neck pain for the longest time. I could usually relieve it with a brief massage until starting a very stressful job, where I quickly developed daily pain, stinging and tight. Then nothing helped, neither massage nor ibuprofen, only vacation, for 5 years until I left. During pandemic lockdown, low back pain emerged as a new physical manifestation of mental stress.
For the past month I have had varying degrees of lumbar pain, but it did not occur to me that it was stress related. I must be doing my dead lifts wrong, I thought. I must need to stretch. But nothing seemed to help after a while, and it got worse after Thanksgiving. That weekend, I found out in no uncertain terms how I had hurt someone very close to me. I always had an inkling, but the full impact of my actions became clear in one starkly honest conversation. In the emotional overwhelm, I could only process a little at a time, mentally (hence the I Wish I Was Better For You post–I was actually thinking of a different relationship, but the idea for that post brought up multiple relational regrets all at once). The rest landed squarely and heavily on my back. It was sore during the days, and woke me up from sleep at night with severe pain and stiffness. I was not limited during my Ethos workouts, though–in fact, I felt better during exercise. After a relatively easy session last Sunday morning, I sat the rest of the day writing, and that night felt like I was both 100 years old and got hit by a truck. It was slowly dawning on me, the origin of my physical pain: The full depth and persistence of my relational fuck-ups was unfolding into conscious awareness, and it was painful, quite literally. Looking back, I was also much more tearful than usual in the past month–like leaks of extreme emotion springing forth, portending.
As is often the case, conscious awareness brought alleviation of pain. No NSAIDs, no physical therapy, no yoga, just an emerging understanding and acceptance. And insights: I realized this week that when I get sad, I get sedentary. I lean heavily toward stillness, with a strong urge to write for release, instead of moving, which is how I relieve anxiety and anger. This past month my workouts diminshed and verbal output escalated significantly. Writing helped untangle and clarify thoughts (I knew I was projecting self-loathing, I just didn’t know why), but I think the lack of movment may have perpetuated repression of feelings, thus diverting them into spiraling physical pain. Now I know, Opposite Action helps: Under stress, doing the opposite of my wallowing tendency can keep me healthy. Hopefully the next time I experience profound sadness (or guilt, or shame), I will resist the pull of the comforting though potentially counterproductive chairs and instead get on the elliptical.
My friends also helped this week. When I told them my sorrowful discovery, they held space for it so lovingly, so patiently. No platitudes, no false positivity–only empathy, validation, and compassion. They shared their own hardships, and I helped them hold it, too. How lucky am I, to know these wonderful people, to have them in my corner? The mutual uplift is absolutely synergistic and exponential, as is my gratitude.
I wrote about forgiveness last month, and how withholding it harms the (un)forgiver. Today I understand acutely how it also hurts and plagues the unforgiven. My loved one forgives me, thank God; I think I can forgive myself more easily now that I know that. We shall see.
“Big feelings” don’t just happen to kids. We grown-ups experience big, hard, complicated emotions as much as anyone. ”So much, so much,” as my friend’s daughter used to lament. ’Immense,’ as it occurred to me this week. Elation, gratitude, grief, guilt, regret, joy, humility, connection–it can all really be so much–sometimes too much for a mind to hold. So it puts it in the body for a while.
After several days of chasing–analyzing, journaling, thought experimenting, self-flagellating–I finally ran out of evaluative fuel and just let the feelings be. Rather than mixing, kneading, stretching, and folding, impatiently trying to shape the nebulous into a smooth ball of cognitive comprehension, I put it to sit and ferment a while. It didn’t take long for a form to rise, to show me what it was made of. I see now what’s been happening. Hopefully I can take the learning and apply it next time. [HA! Who knew a post on dark emotions could include a fun sourdough analogy?]
My back feels fine today, better than it has in weeks. Fascinating.
Onward.
Healing Through Connection 