Gracias

Este foro es un milagro para la mayoría de la gente. Lastima que algunos llegamos tarde. Ojala todos lo logren. Adiós chicos.

 

Salud

I feel like ass

 

Aw Alouqua, It’s never too late

 

There is no deadline to recovery. Please don't lose hope.

 

I was bed ridden for over 18 months and pretty much housebound for almost 30 years with a myriad of mind/body symptoms which included horrendous pain and overwhelming fatigue before I started doing mind/body work... and am now almost fully recovered. It's NEVER too late! You are not a 'special case' doomed to failure! Go back and read all the great advice that people on these forums have given you in replies to your forum postings and choose to commit to doing one small, healthy, life-affirming thing on a regular, daily basis - by doing so you have nothing to lose and everything to gain.

 

Thank you all for your kind words. Well, almost all of you. Today was a difficult day, more than usual. Emotionally I was very exhausted, and physically too. Every day I have to endure something that is very constant and painful. It makes everything so hard, you know?
I have more symptoms, but they take a back seat. I know I could handle and cope with them, but this one is a big obstacle in my recovery. I always thought that once I improved a little, it would get easier each time, but the truth is, it hasn’t. I don’t know how long it will take for anything to improve, and it’s exhausting.
My family doesn’t deserve what they are going through because of me. And sometimes I’ve thought that I’m simply getting in the way of their happiness. I know they would miss me, but maybe everything would fall into place afterward.
The truth is that the symptom I have in my arms is so difficult that it’s hard for me to believe anyone could overcome something like this. I don’t even say it just about myself—I mean anyone. Everything that’s supposed to be needed to reverse it feels a bit outside of my reality.
I can try to ignore it, try to get through the day. I can try not to think about it, and I manage for several days like that, but there always comes a point where I become exhausted. It’s like holding something heavy—I get tired, I can’t hold on anymore, and I end up crying.
And yet, thinking that I’m supposed to do activities that make me happy… I don’t know. Maybe singing, but I can’t spend the whole day doing that either. I don’t know. I feel so sad and unwell.
My life used to be good, you know? I had everything to be happy, but many things happened, and I fell into a constant state of fear, and everything got out of control.
With all of this, I do believe that people get better, even with many symptoms, but this is very hard. I don’t know if I have what it takes to overcome it, or if… I just don’t know. I don’t even understand how this is supposed to start after everything. I’m not sure how this works.
All I know is that day to day, it feels like torture, basically. And the place my brain chose to put this symptom brings up feelings of frustration and anger that I try not to feel. With all of this, I don’t know how I’m supposed to overcome it for so long.
It’s easy to promise myself that I will keep going when the days are more or less okay, but when a really hard day comes, I can’t help feeling like I just want to finally rest, or like I’m the most unfortunate person of all.
And it’s not that I complain about having TMS—it’s just… not like this, not with these symptoms, not with this one that, for me, is the worst. I’m sure that for many people it’s a blessing to have found the forum and all these explanations for their persistent pain, but there are also people who… I don’t know, maybe we just won’t make it, because our situation already feels too extreme.
I don’t know what each person’s brain needs in order to feel safe again or to stop sending these signals and reverse a symptom. I don’t know… maybe it’s not about perfection, but I would really like to talk to someone who has gone through something as intense as mine and managed to overcome it.

 

Alouqua, we are all here with you. Yes our symptoms are different, but we here on a chronic pain recovery forum, spending our free time here. We are all in our unique pits of despair trying to crawl out, there are lots of differences in all our stories but there are so many similarities and things that unite us. I promise you are not alone and things are not as hopeless as your brain and thoughts are convincing you. They are saying your future is destined for eternal horror. It isn’t true but you are going to have to decide whether you want to start making some internal changes to change your reality.

you are caught in a loop. You acknowledge the cyclical nature of pain “It’s easy to promise myself that I will keep going when the days are more or less okay, but when a really hard day comes, I can’t help feeling like I just want to finally rest, or like I’m the most unfortunate person of all.” this is how TMS pain works, there are lows and highs, times where we are thinking we are doing well and then flares that beat us down. If you are thrown for a loop every time there is a flare and forget that they eventually return to a baseline then you are letting yourself be swayed by short term thinking. The flares are your golden opportunity to slowly start pushing back at the thoughts that are keeping you stuck in this.

I’m assuming you’ve been check out by a Dr, have you tried meds, if so do they help? There is nothing wrong with taking meds daily or for flares as long as you take them out of kindness, not out of desperation for a cure.

we discussed meditation. You need to engage with any program and a tool or two and do them daily and take what they’re telling you and apply it to your daily life and thoughts. Again, internal shifts need to start happening for you to see meaningful progress. You shouldn’t be ignoring symptoms, that doesn’t work, you can acknowledge them, and start to shift your beliefs so you begin to understand that they are temporary. That you can get through this.

I get the total despair and allure of suicide, I really really do. But those thoughts are perpetuating the brain being stuck in panic and fight or flight. The TMS brain does not respond well to threats. I know we think we can force it into submission with threats or desperation but we can’t.
You thinking people would be better off with you gone is just your thoughts (which are lies) misleading you. Instead of thinking that how about trying to be an inspiration to your family, to show them what it looks like to get through hardship. And most importantly being an inspiration and friend to yourself, your real self, that person who deserves compassion and empathy, not the false self our thoughts and ego tells us is real and that our loved ones would be better off without us.

I really don’t think it’s wrong for someone in this state of despair to reach out for professional help. I understand that’s not a luxury everyone has, but sometimes more direct guidance is needed.

From the bottom of my heart and soul, things can improve, but you need to take an honest look at how you’re living and how you’re perpetuating your situation.

 

Hello, how are you? Thank you for taking the time to write to me. Did you have any pain like mine—of a nerve origin? If not, did the main symptom you mentioned still start the same way?
How long did it take before you noticed even a slight improvement? Or did other areas where you had symptoms start improving before that pain?
What did you actually do day by day? It’s all about thoughts, right? Like not thinking about it, or something along those lines. One thing is to walk and live your life, and the brain doesn’t really know what you’re doing, but rather how you feel about the symptoms. I could talk about them while feeling calm or even happy, and I think nothing would happen. The problem is talking about them from a place of fear or worry, right?
Could you please tell me how you cope day to day with your strongest pain?

 

Thank you for all the good advice you’ve given me. Of course I’ve tried, but I suppose I’m in a very desperate situation because my pain is horrible. Literally, my nerve hurts, and unlike many others who talk about flare-ups, for me every day is like a constant flare-up. And the days when I’ve had even a slight improvement, with a little less pain, have been very few. That’s why I feel tired of living, or something like that. I’m tired of fighting, and even though for a moment I think I have to keep going, like I told you, when the pain itself is so strong and gets even worse, I just keep going and negative thoughts come into my head.
I won’t deny that I felt a lot of hope when I found this place. I don’t know, I even think that maybe it affected me a lot. I remember I thought I just had to try at the beginning, give it a little time to start feeling some improvement, and then it would get a bit easier—but that didn’t happen for me. Maybe I’m very… I don’t know, maybe I want everything to happen quickly, but without even finding a bit of relief. At first, for me, my symptoms actually got worse. Not in my arms, but they spread a bit more to other parts of my body that hadn’t been affected. However, although I won’t deny that it scared me a little, it was never the same as… it’s not like what I feel in my arms.
The truth is, I feel like I’m trapped, like I have no way out or something like that. Basically, I could say that three months have passed. Yes, maybe that’s not a long time, but I just feel like I’ve done everything wrong. For example, yesterday, it’s not that the pain was necessarily stronger than what I’ve always been enduring, but I was so emotionally exhausted. I don’t know if… at this point, I feel like I’ve lost all my hope.

 

alouqua, your own words (the sentence I quoted) convey a different situation. You need to realize that you, at this moment are not the most reliable narrator. Again, you are being swayed by short term thinking as it relates to the pain. You are way to focused on the specific of the symptoms, their,origin their nature (it is Sarno 101 to think psychologically not physical. All pain is generated in the brain, why are you so fixated on it being nerve pain? If we keep doing what we are doing we’re going to keep getting what we’re getting. I can promise you that no one here is going to assuage your fears. Even someone with an identical story will not put your mind at ease. The TMS brain always extends the goal posts. Have any success stories you’ve read put your mind at ease? What’s the missing piece here? Your healing is not going to come from anyone else. I actually think you’re approaching your rock bottom ultimately you need to decide where you go from there. I truly wish you the best, I can tell you are a sweet decent person, but until you start believing that you deserve better and start aligning your life with this fact, then absolutely nothing will change.

 

En cuanto a los medicamentos, probé la pregabalina hasta 300 mg diarios y nunca noté ningún efecto positivo en mi dolor. También probé la duloxetina junto con la pregabalina, y aunque no la tomé por mucho tiempo —ya que es un medicamento caro— no quería que mi familia tuviera que asumir ese costo. Además, quería saber si lo que estaba haciendo realmente me estaba ayudando, porque ya había encontrado este foro y no quería pensar que cualquier mejoría se debiera a los medicamentos. Así que dejé de tomar todos los medicamentos.
Respecto a los síntomas en mis brazos, he notado que varían de vez en cuando. Nunca disminuyen —de hecho, podrían empeorar—, pero el dolor siempre es intenso. Siempre es de tipo nervioso o eléctrico. Sin embargo, este último síntoma me está superando. Si alguna vez pensé en el suicidio, fue porque tenía crisis muy fuertes que duraban horas, y otros días podía sobrellevarlo. Pero ahora pienso en ello con más frecuencia, porque el síntoma en mis brazos ha cambiado: siento el dolor directamente en el nervio.
Antes, creo que era algo más superficial, como una energía, pero no sentía el dolor directamente en el nervio. Ahora sí, y para mí eso es un empeoramiento, porque es horrible. Siento que me duele el nervio, y además del dolor en el codo, se irradia por todo el brazo de forma difusa.
Lamento volver a mencionarlo, es que no sé… a veces he pensado que lo que me falta es una vida más activa, rodeada de gente y cosas así, pero a veces mi vida no es así. Tengo una hija pequeña a la que cuidar, y me frustra mucho que mis brazos estén así, algo limitados en cierto sentido, y con dolor.
La verdad es que me compadezco de mí mismo. Mi situación es muy… ha pasado mucho tiempo, así que supongo que me siento frustrado por no haber mejorado nada. Al contrario, me siento un poco peor que antes.

 

It worsens because we obsess over it. If we are constantly scanning the pain, focused on the area of our body, then the brain will pick up on it think there’s something really wrong and possibly escalate the severity. Do you buy into the TMS diagnosis or do you think there something unfixably wrong with your body? Please if there is one thing to focus on, stop talking about the symptoms, stop writing about them here, stop discussing them anywhere. Yes you and can and should discuss your struggles and progress, this is your current reality after all, but discussing the specifics of symptoms (outside of their progress) accomplishes nothing, The symptoms are the result of dysfunction, your dysfunction is not the result of the symptoms. The severity of the symptoms does not indicate damage. You are perpetuating your situation. And you are putting unreal pressure on yourself. Which I get. I’m a childless 32 year old, but I can certainly imagine the stress of dealing with this shit and trying to be a parent. What you are dealing with is unbelievably tough, but you need to be honest that your obsession is fueling it. I can very easily make my situation worse by obsessing about the physical, in fact that’s what led to my rock bottom back in January. I obsessively scanned and manipulated my jaw until the point where I could barely speak. Yes you are in an unbelievable low point but you have an opportunity here to make a choice to start telling yourself a different story.

 

Two important things:

1. Please stop looking for timelines. Every body, every history is different. Focusing on “how long” creates pressure that feeds anxiety and tightens symptoms. Recovery isn’t linear — it’s about consistent practice, not hitting milestones.
   
   
2. Please stop hunting for people with the same or similar symptoms. It actually doesn’t matter what the symptoms are — nerve pain, fatigue, dizziness, whatever. This is a brain/nervous system protection response, not a “bodily symptoms” problem. The mechanism is the same across all mind-body symptoms.

Some of the things I did day by day:

• Morning check‑in (5 mins): Notice the pain without judging or fighting it. Just observe: “There’s the burning again.”
  
  
• 3x daily body pause (30 secs each): Slow down. Ask, “What emotion is behind this?” (fear, anger, helplessness?). Name it kindly.
  
  
• Micro‑movement: 2 mins of gentle swaying, stretching, or walking.
  
  
• Joy spotting: Find 3 small things that feel neutral or pleasant each day, no matter how tiny.
  

Day‑to‑day coping with the worst pain:

When it flared, I’d pause and say (silently or aloud): “I see you, nerve pain. You’re trying to protect me. Thank you. I’m safe now.”
Then I’d do something deliberately ordinary — make tea, water a plant, fold laundry — staying present, not fighting the sensation.

The shift was moving from “This pain controls me” to “I’m safe to feel this and still function.” Repetition rewires the nervous system to learn you’re not in danger.

 

Gracias por tus consejos y tu paciencia. La verdad es que estoy desesperada y me siento sin esperanza. Estoy agotada, ¿sabes? Y, sinceramente, creo que mi situación empeoró en ese momento. Quizás fue porque me centré demasiado en mejorar, o tal vez me preocupé demasiado por no mejorar.
En el fondo, lo que me preocupa ahora es pensar que si no lo logré antes, tal vez no pueda ahora. Aun así, tengo que seguir adelante por mi familia. En cuanto a tus consejos, continuaré. El primero es el seguimiento somático, ¿verdad? Lo hago todo el tiempo e intento mantener la calma. Pero a veces, después de varios días, me agoto. Estoy agotada emocional y físicamente también. No necesariamente porque mi síntoma principal empeore, sino porque a veces simplemente me siento agotada emocionalmente y necesito llorar.
Quizás los pensamientos que me vienen a la mente son los que debería evitar. No sé cómo voy a lograr que mi mente se relaje o se sienta segura cuando cada día siento un dolor tan insoportable. Soy muy consciente de todo esto, porque aunque sé que podría ser reversible, no sé si soy capaz de lograrlo. Pero tengo que seguir adelante, pensando que solo necesito resistir y mantener la calma mientras intento no centrarme en el problema.
En cuanto a las cosas que me alegran, si no tienen que ser constantes a lo largo del día, puedo hacerlas. Sinceramente, siempre me he preguntado cómo lo hacen los demás, porque para mí sería imposible mantenerme ocupada con ese tipo de cosas durante tanto tiempo. Me cuesta mucho concentrarme en otra cosa cuando lo que realmente me tranquiliza es leer y ver vídeos; claro, casi todo lo relacionado con el EMT, porque eso es lo que me da fuerzas para seguir adelante: la esperanza.
En cuanto al movimiento, no tengo problemas de movilidad. Actualmente, no tengo ninguna limitación para moverme, aunque antes sí tenía dificultad para caminar. Pero a medida que fui superando el miedo a caminar, mis piernas mejoraron rápidamente, a pesar de que no tenían ningún problema. El síntoma simplemente se suavizó, convirtiéndose en algo más leve, como una sensación de ardor.
He estado pensando que lo que siento en los brazos podría ser una respuesta condicionada al movimiento. Al principio, pensé que no, porque a veces el dolor ya estaba presente incluso antes de moverlos. Aun así, siempre he intentado realizar mis actividades con calma, para que mi cerebro supiera que moverlos es seguro. Sin embargo, hoy me frustré con mis brazos y los sacudí con fuerza, y el dolor aumentó mucho. Eso me hizo pensar que tal vez mi cerebro sí asocia el movimiento con el peligro.
No lo sé. He estado pensando que tal vez mi enfoque para reeducar mi cerebro no esté del todo bien enfocado. Tal vez no se trate solo de miedo, atención o pensamientos, sino que mi cerebro necesita aprender que los movimientos son seguros. Digo esto porque, de hecho, cuando comenzó este síntoma, estaba realizando mucha actividad física con los brazos, y fue durante esos movimientos rápidos que apareció el dolor por primera vez, comenzando en los codos.
Entonces, todo esto tendría sentido... pero realmente no sé cómo debería reeducar mi cerebro.





[CITA="BloodMoon, publicación: 170816, miembro: 8042"]Dos cosas importantes:

1. Por favor, deja de plazo buscar fijos. Cada cuerpo y cada historia son diferentes. Centrarse en "cuánto tiempo" genera presión, lo que alimenta la ansiedad y agrava los síntomas. La recuperación no es lineal; se trata de práctica constante , no de alcanzar metas específicas.
   
   
2. Por favor, dejen de buscar personas con síntomas iguales o similares. En realidad, no importa cuáles sean los síntomas: dolor nervioso, fatiga, mareos, lo que sea. Se trata de una respuesta de protección del cerebro y del sistema nervioso, no de un problema de síntomas físicos. El mecanismo es el mismo para todos los síntomas que afectan tanto al cuerpo como a la mente.

Algunas de las cosas que hacía día a día:

• Revisión matutina (5 minutos): Observa el dolor sin juzgarlo ni luchar contra él. Simplemente observa: “Ahí está el ardor otra vez”.
  
  
• Tres pausas diarias para el cuerpo (30 segundos cada una): Baja el ritmo. Pregúntate: "¿Qué emoción hay detrás de esto?" (¿miedo, ira, impotencia?). Nómbrala con amabilidad.
  
  
• Micromovimiento: 2 minutos de equilibrio suave, estiramientos o caminatas.
  
  
• Búsqueda de momentos de alegría: Encuentra 3 pequeñas cosas que te resultan neutras o agradables cada día, por muy insignificantes que parecen.

Cómo afrontar el peor dolor en el día a día:

Cuando se intensificaba, hacía una pausa y decía (en silencio o en voz alta): "Te veo, dolor nervioso. Estás intentando protegerme. Gracias. Ahora estoy a salvo".
Entonces hacía algo deliberadamente ordinario —preparar un té, regar una planta, doblar la ropa— manteniéndome presente, sin luchar contra la sensación.

El cambio consistió en pasar de “Este dolor me controla” a “Puedo sentir esto sin peligro y seguir funcionando”. La repetición reconfigura el sistema nervioso para que aprenda que no estás en peligro.

 

@Rabscuttle is correct in that the way you are looking at it, you are essentially committed to finding differences between yourself and other cases. I could theoretically find you a case that is identical to yours (and it is impossible because we are all different), but you'd still find a way to differentiate yourself (you already have because there are plenty of people on this forum who have had and have discussed nerve pain), and that's because this differentiation keeps you stuck and keeps you in despair - it's not a good place to be but in a way it is a safe place to be (and it's addictive). It keeps alive the idea that you're a unique case that won't heal, and in a way that is less scary than risking disappointment through full commitment.

Also, and I say this because it may help you snap out of it rather than because I'm offended (I say it with empathy and with love - and I've asked myself this in the past), but I think you need to ask yourself who are you to label the experience of others? Everyone who has been through TMS goes through days of absolute agony where they think that it might be easier if this was all over - trust me I've been there. I assume you've read countless TMS stories, and even if they don't explicitly say it (some people share more than others, some will also downplay their experiences), you aren't in a position to determine that you're going through something that is more intense than anyone else - you just don't have enough information as you aren't living their life/symptoms (i.e. how can you read Bloodmoon's account above of her experience and definitively say your experience is more intense? - the comparison is pointless and impossible). Also, we experience things differently - so there would be people in your position who both deal with what you have better and also worse than you - it's impossible to compare individual experiences across different symptoms.

Not only do I think it is inaccurate, I also think there isn't any benefit to comparing the intensity of your experience with anyone else, it certainly won't help your recovery. For the purposes of your desire that I quoted, it's better to assume that everyone you talk to here has experienced TMS at its worst (no more or less than what you're going through - which is way more true), that will help you feel connected and that you're not alone (it also opens you up to their potential assistance - because if you think your case is radically different then naturally you're going to feel like no one can truly help you here).

 

It’s understandable to want so much to get better — but that longing itself creates pressure. Recovery isn’t about trying harder but about softening the effort. You're approaching this like you're on a roller coaster ride, gripping the handrail more and more tightly; instead, with mind/body work you let yourself breathe and trust the process.

Doubts come from discouragement, not truth. Recovery begins once you stop comparing your symptoms to others' symptoms and once you stop measuring progress and start practising patience and kindness toward yourself.

Do yourself a big favour and listen to what @Adam Coloretti (coach) and @Rabscuttle are saying to you above.

Start smaller — maybe just once or twice a day — and build slowly. Crying is a natural release of nervous system tension, not a setback. Over time, those waves of emotion will settle as your mind/body learns safety again.

Nothing about you is incapable. With gentle consistency, your body can relearn that it’s safe to relax.

Exactly — joy doesn’t need to be constant or forced. Even tiny moments matter: a bit of music, a warm drink, the light through a window. Each one is a message to your brain that comfort and pleasure can coexist with discomfort. They all help rewire your system toward safety and calm.

That’s an important insight. Nothing is damaged — your brain simply learned to pair movement with threat. Pair movement with calm breathing or a kind reminder that you’re safe — this will gradually teach your brain a new association.

A simple place to start: this short video offers gentle mind-body exercises... (and, yes, you can keep things as basic and simple as those exercises!... even the smallest, teeny weeny indications of safety tell your brain 'there's no danger here')... https://www.youtube.com/shorts/cbdlHBNBqgw

 

I know this so well. Please just recognize for what it is: OCD obtrusive behavior.

I have had my hypochondriac moments and let me tell you: I could never satisfy my appetite for a false sense of safety. I could take another jab, go to another doctors appointment, have a vision of God Himself, it would never be enough. Once you recognize that, you can stop feeding into it.

Your recovery is in no way, shape or form dependent on finding the perfect success story. And even if you did manage to find this nonexistent person, it still would not provide the safety youre seeking. You need to find comfort and safety from within. You wont find it elsewhere.

Good luck sweetheart. You can do it

 

My intention was never to offend anyone, much less to minimize anyone’s pain. I simply wanted to know if someone had experienced something so intense and constant, and despite that, managed to make it through—managed to improve and recover. That it doesn’t have to be perfect, and that even through the tears, it’s possible to retrain the brain to return to a state of safety or something like that.
You’re right, I won’t talk about my symptoms anymore. In any case, all of you are already very familiar with them from everything you’ve read. I would like my next post to say something positive—in fact, that’s what I had set out to do. I just got overwhelmed, and that’s all.
I’ll try to distract myself despite the pain. In my current state, I don’t have emotional problems related to my daily life, only with the symptom itself. So I’ll try to manage it better and follow the good advice I’ve been given.

 

I know that 100% I didn't mean to offend you back either and I'm not judging, it's just something to consider and a mindset shift that has helped both me and others in the past.

Absolutely! And there are countless examples on this forum - Bloodmoon being one of them above. I've seen many people heal from intense and constant pain (that's usually how it starts out for most).

 

Muchas gracias. Eres muy amable y paciente. Creo que has pasado por mucho y quizás eso te ayude a comprender mi situación. Tienes razón: intentaré no centrarme en los resultados y, en cambio, vivir más el presente, aceptando lo que venga. No tendré miedo de llorar cuando lo necesite, pero me alejaré de los pensamientos negativos, o al menos no les prestaré atención, e intentaré mantener la calma.
En cuanto al seguimiento somático, nunca he tenido problemas para sentir mis sensaciones. No es que les tenga miedo —las siento—, pero como son constantes y continuas, llega un punto en que me agoto. Y ese agotamiento se convierte en llanto, no necesariamente cuando las cosas empeoran mucho en un día determinado, sino simplemente después de varios días, cuando supongo que ya estoy exhausta.
Gracias por el enlace al video. Jamás pensé que cosas tan sencillas pudieran ayudarme a relajar mi sistema nervioso. Las practicaré a diario.