Back Pain - Something real had shifted
I just wanted to share my story, hoping it gives someone else a bit of light. My lower back pain started one ...
I just wanted to share my story, hoping it gives someone else a bit of light.
My lower back pain started one winter morning three years ago. I woke up stiff, as if my spine had turned into concrete. At first, I thought it was from bad posture or too many hours hunched over a laptop. I work in research, so long days in front of a laptop are normal.
But the pain crept in like an uninvited guest who decided never to leave. Sitting became torture, sleep elusive. I started avoiding friends, cafés, even long drives.
I tried everything. Physio, acupuncture, massage, scans, yoga, special cushions. Each offered a glimpse of hope, followed by disappointment. Every doctor shrugged. My MRI was “normal.” I felt broken but invisible. The worst part wasn’t the pain itself. It was the fear that it would never end.
Then, by accident, I stumbled upon Dr. John Sarno’s work. I was very skeptical. The idea that emotions could cause real physical pain sounded almost insulting after all I’d endured. Still, my options were gone, so what did I have to lose?
Reading his insights was like reading myself. For the first time, I saw myself clearly. Not a reflection but the real me. Someone driven, self-critical, afraid to fail.
It wasn’t the pain, it was the pressure I lived under. If I wanted to heal I had to stop fearing the sensations, to resume normal life and face the emotions behind them.
It wasn’t an instant cure. The first week, I screamed internally, “This can’t work!” But as I journaled, memories surfaced. Anger I’d buried, grief I’d avoided came out on the page.
One day, sitting at my desk without my cushion, I realized the pain had faded. My focus wasn’t on my body anymore but on my life.
Friends were cautious. A doctor told me it was just a placebo. But inside, I knew something real had shifted. I’d stopped running from myself.
On the rare mornings the ache returns, I greet it gently, as an old messenger. I listen, not with fear, but with curiosity.
Pain no longer defines me, it reminds me. In releasing it, I’ve discovered what it means to be truly free.
Gracie
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