Blame and Shame

I have become aware of two previous responses to my chronic pain that I want to change. Change my thoughts, change my response, change my beliefs and change my behaviours.

Blame- When I was diagnosed with scoliosis as a young girl, a family friend suggested to my parents that my twisted spine was a result of “karma from a past life”. He asserted that pain was a burden I would have to carry, for life. My parents brushed it off at the time as ridiculous! At the moment, I am working with a Life Coach and exploring limiting beliefs. Randomly, this incident popped into my consciousness. 

 

Could it be that somehow this triggered a belief that I am to blame for my pain. This is frequently my default response to a flare up. Immediately I will analyse what I must have done wrong to cause it. Did I sit for too long? Did I overdo it? Have I been too lazy and not moved enough? Is it because of something I have eaten? Has my snowballing emotions played a contributing part? All of these questions point the finger solely at me. My fault. This is a blame loop I have been stuck in for a long time.  

 

Shame – All those years of accumulating self-blame become a heavy burden. At some point, pain morphed from my fault not just because of my actions (or inactions) to my fault because I am a bad person. I am weak, I am hopeless. And with this line of thought can easily deteriorate into further poisonous and caustic self-talk. I would never speak to a loved one the way I can speak to myself. 

 

About a year ago, I came across the #10backPainFacts from listening to the Empowered Beyond Pain podcast. Cue several helpful light bulb moments. With the help of a rehab physio, I realised I was constantly tensed to protect my back. Since then, I have learnt to be aware of that and relax more. But the facts also talk about pain being complex and sometimes, even random. I know from my pain science education too that pain can result from mixed messages and crossed wires in the nervous system. So, this supports a different view, pain is not my fault.

 

Mindfulness of the present moment helps me unshackle from the blame game (what’s happened has happened, so no need to ruminate) and the future (worrying about future actions/inactions). Just be in the moment, right here, as I am. 

 

When I was writing this I was reminded of a scene from the movie, Good Will Hunting.  I even went searching for it and had a good cry! Whoa – that one always gets me in the feels. 

 

So, today, I put a hand on my heart and told myself. It’s not your fault. 

 

It was liberating and.….a huge relief. 

 

#MindfulnessInDailyLife

#SelfManageChronicPain

#Shame

#Blame

#ItsNotYourFault

Taking steps together on the pain journey

 

First published in 'InTouch' magazine - official publication of Muscoskeletal Physiotherapy Australia, a National Group of The Australian Physiotherapy Association (APA), Issue 2 2021, pg.15)






After corrective surgeries for severe scoliosis aged 11 and 16, I spent over 20 years tumbling through the medical roundabout seeking cures, solutions and even a reason for my pain. Throughout this time, I have experienced many different clinicians. One might say, the good the bad and the ugly.

 

Around 10 years ago, the clinicians at the Barbara Walker Centre for Pain Management at St Vincent’s Hospital in Melbourne helped me turn a corner. They didn’t cure me or fix me. There was no magic wand waving. We worked in partnership, exchanging expertise and experiences. First the very first time, I was shown how I could help myself. And it was life changing. Implementing the many self-management techniques we developed together, I now live well with chronic pain. 

 

Now, I work in the not-for-profit sector where we constantly talk about engagement and partnering. Organisations often have limited resources but will come together to address the complex and intersectional nature of social issues.  Sometimes, these partnerships are formalised with a Memorandum of Understanding (MOU). So, when I was asked to write this article, I reflected on how the engagement and partnering required for an MOU could be an excellent analogy for an effective patient-clinician relationship, especially where the patient is dealing with chronic pain. So, let's break it down…

 

First, let’s listen. 

Before you get to formalising a MOU, there is a critical establishment phase in any engagement work. In the past, just telling my story and the impact of my pain left me feeling vulnerable (actually I was usually a crying mess). But when I have felt heard and believed and also received some acknowledgment of the severity of this impact on my daily life, I have felt engaged and ready to get to work. 


Recently, in an initial appointment after I gave my well-versed backstory, my clinician acknowledged my hard work and told me I was the best person to understand and mange my condition. I often keenly felt the power imbalance when working with a clinician where this was not genuinely acknowledged. 


I recognise that sometimes this is not always possible. Time to listen and share in the allotted time of an initial appointment can be challenging. So this can be where some pre-work can be helpful. I have been to pain management clinics where clinicians provided pre-admission surveys and I have also proactively provided my medical history or other relevant information. A helpful online resource here is Pain Train – My health summary which provides a platform for people with chronic pain to provide access to their healthy information before an initial appointment. 

 

The Who, Why and What factor. 

For any relationship to work effectively there needs to be the give and take of both parties. I believe that managing expectations forms a large part of a successful two-way partnership. By understanding why each party has come to the table and what they expect to take away from the interaction – there can be no unmet expectations. 


I think we also sometimes need to be honest and just agree that magic pills and cure-all’s rarely exist so let’s scrap “No Pain” from the Wishlist. This was my biggest problem in early days. I was expecting a clinician to cure or remove my pain - for good. I was often told to try this technique, this exercise and when I did (sometimes only a handful of times) and the pain persisted, I gave up. Being really clear on what you will do, how will you do it, how often etc., can springboard astounding change. If this is not clearly articulated and agreed early in the relationship then how will the partnership be able to demonstrate its success? 

 

Also important is a very clear understanding of why you are working together – what is driving a need for change. This was huge for me. After an emotional conversation with my husband, I realised the impact my pain was also having on him – he called them his “darkest days” and that was a huge motivational force for me to change my approach. I was not going to inflict those dark days on my family or myself again.  

 

Proactive and curious. 

When both patient and clinician have an open mind, are curious and are committed to trying new things, learning new things, there can be some real change – even those sought after “Ah-ha!”  moments. When rigidly attached to pre-conceived ideas, dogmas or stereotypes, growth and development is unlikely. 


After a great initial consult, a clinician suggested something to me which was a bit left of field, something I had never considered. He presented the information as an option for me to consider – almost like he simply was wondering aloud. He suggested I go home, think about it and we talk about it next time. He also followed up with an email of resources to back up his suggestion. This appealed to me with my academic research background. He was proactive but gave me the space and freedom to respond rather than forcing a knee-jerk reaction (which probably would have been to brush him off, dismiss or flat out refuse his suggestion).

 

Similarly, when I was working with clinician in the pain management clinic, we were shown gentle exercises, new ways of thinking about our pain. Much of it was so different to the 20 years of baggage I had brought with me. I was terrified I would never be able to change. They didn’t just explain these new techniques, but showed me how to use them in daily life over the 3 week course. Many times, I had been blown off with a throw away line “Oh, you really should just pace yourself”. During my pain management course, I was shown what pacing really means – shown from scratch – testing pain thresholds, setting up baselines etc. 

 

I actually had a light bulb moment in the hospital toilets. Unfamiliar with opening a door outwards, I would push and slam into the door. It’s embarrassing to admit but this went on every time I went to the toilet for the first week. One day, early in the second week, I stopped at the door, smiled and...pulled. In a blinding flash of clarity, it became obvious that habits can change. Your mind does learn new tricks. This gave me hope. If after 20 years of responding to pain with the same automatic unhelpful thoughts (which I have learnt only amplify my pain), then I do have the power to change these thoughts. 

 

Get specific. 

The crux of the relationship is how patient and clinician will interact – what work will be undertaken, together. Once we have moved passed the expectations of the interaction. Determining an agreed set of goals, it a great starting point (and they need to be SMART – specific, measurable, achievable, realistic and with a timeframe). By determining these goals, expectations previously determined can be met.  

 

A part of being realistic was recently well demonstrated when a clinician I was working with gave me a “flare up” pass. We had set up a set of exercises to work on over the next week and he said to expect a flare up. Something about calling this out up front made me relax. And when the pain did escalate later that week, I wasn’t surprised, and I did not give up. I just tried again the next day. I think if he had not mentioned it, I might have been quick to jump to a conclusion that the exercises had caused the pain and I should stop them. 

 

Reassure. 

Often partnerships work when both parties regularly share common experiences to establish familiarity and a sense of common purpose. I have experienced the calming sense of reassurance that has come from learning about pain science and common experiences.  


Clinicians see a lot of people dealing with chronic pain and they would hear the same laments and frustrations. Letting patients know that the dark and depressing thoughts and reactions they are having to their pain are common can be immeasurably comforting and reassuring. I was very relieved to know I was not crazy. Chronic pain is a very raw experience – many people react in the same way. 

 

I have long battled with fear when it comes to pain. Fear that I have caused my pain, fear that whatever I choose to do will impact on my pain and fear that my pain will never change or go away – fear that it might even get worse. All the “what ifs” that a scared brain that is trapped in catastrophe can dream up. 


When clinicians have shared pain science information and talked me through what is currently happening with my condition, it has helped to allay these fears. Recently I mentioned this fear to a clinician. I had suggested this “new” pain was different and I was concerned something had happened, worsen, changed. He asked a few simple questions about nerve conduction, bladder and bowel function and he quickly ruled out serious impacts. After that I felt immense relief and the fear almost immediately dissipated. 

 

Keep talking. 

Chronic pain is complex and constantly changing due to the many biopsychosocial factors impacting on it. Part of keeping a good relationship going means communication. Updating, exploring, but importantly to be flexible to adapt to the changing circumstances. 


I have always felt well supported when I can tell a clinician things are not working and we need a new approach. Its easier to tweak a program than to be constantly feeling the pressure of it not working. After telling a clinician a few years back that the program he had given me was just too hard to fit into my daily life, we made some changes. He gave me some exercises to do during the day at work so my early morning routine was less pressured. 

 

Focus. 

I have learnt through many years of difficult times to focus where I want to go, to focus on what I can do, not on the many impacts of my pain. By focusing on what I wish life was like or what I want to do but am physically limited, all I end up feeling is frustrated, resentful and depressed. 


Formalising the relationship, expectations and goals in a clinician-patient relationship with an MOU could help to concentrate and retain this focus. In the long term, when a patient may need to acknowledge and accept pain as a part of their life, this direction can be invaluable. Having a supportive clinician who can help maintain this positive focus – especially when things get hard, can be the difference between keeping you on track and falling back into unhelpful behaviours. 



Mandy Mercuri lives in the foothills of the Dandenongs with her family. She loves to share her experiences about self managing chronic pain (Take Hold of Pain blog) and being mindful (Just Be – the mindfulness in daily life blog). Writing has played a big part in her professional (PhD, academia, report writing) and personal life (blogging, public speaking). She believes in the transformative power in reading a great book that touches your heart. Now, Mandy is taking a year off to manage her health and to write - her adult gap year. She is writing her first novel, ‘Just be’, about woman whose life has been thrown up in the air when she makes an unlikely friendship with  homeless man who agrees to teach her mindfulness then their families become entangled. It’s a tale about unconditional love, forgiveness and not just knowing who you truly are but having the courage to be that person.  Contact Mandy via Twitter here. 


It is raining at Saddle Club

The rain on the roof has a rhythm but just when I think I have nailed the pattern of sounds, there’s a change. A conglomerate of drips.

The downpipe is overflowing and slapping great gushes onto the wooden table. 

 

The frogs have started up their chorus as if signalling to prospective mates rain's aphrodisiac effect.

 

The laden clouds have lowered and covered the distant blue grey smudged hills. 

 

Activity flurries as riders and horses move towards cover. 


There are no individual drops just a sheen of downward movement tricking my eyes. 

 

Leaves bob merrily as raindrops use them as a springboard. Drop and drip. 

 

Birdsong has ceased. They have sought refuge and hidden from view. 

 

Horses ears are perked to attention but flickering and twitch with each droplet. 

 

Puddles ripple with the raindrops and each pool is like its own mini disco, lights flashing. 

 

In the puddles, I see the sky and trees reflected, an upside-down wet world. 

 

The air is crisp but not cold, so I sit in peaceful awareness, a smile dancing on my lips.



The person in the Mirror

 A quote that real hit me in the feels was this:

 

If you are looking for that one person to change your life, look in the mirror. 

 

For so long I was desperately seeking a cure, a magic pill, someone (anyone!?) to take away my pain. I never realised there was so much that I could do that would impact my experience of pain. Often we search outside of ourselves for help, redemption, reassurance, satisfaction. We actually have much more control over these things than we realise – if only we choose to seek it and believe it. 

 

Mindfulness has helped me realise this. And it comes from the “without judgement” part of being aware of my present moment experiences. In doing so I can be aware of the things within my control and those that are influenced by or forced upon me by others. Even just the ability to identify my thoughts and not allow them to carry me off into dark places. 


Yet, sometimes having all the control can also be challenging. There are times when I feel tired, overwhelmed and convinced I cannot do it. I notice these thoughts. And I will look back at that face in the mirror and tell myself. Just do the next right thing. 

 

Recently my son was talking with his peers at school about social injustice. Apparently, the whole class was fired up about a number of problems they saw in our world. I am grateful to hear that their teacher had directed the conversation towards solutions. He had asked me that night what can one person do to make a difference. He felt numbed into inaction by the feeling of overwhelm at the enormity of the problems they had discussed. We talked at length about how one person can make a difference. I used myself as an example, by choosing to self manage my pain I was able make massive changes in my daily life. I was able to return to work, to re-connect with friends and family, to pick myself up and starting living fully once again. I use this story and my experiences to share with others hoping that somewhere, someone might read some of my reflections and make their own changes. 

 

Another example I told him about was my Dad. At age 80 and somewhat sparked by recent lockdowns, he has gotten into Facebook. He has been sharing some tunes he has made online. He has compiled them into a CD and is sending it to people, asking them to pass on the favour by either doing a random act of kindness or contributing to their local charity. This is one person, doing something and making a difference. Paying it forward.

 

One person, making a commitment to themselves, to act, to make a change. It is possible. 

 

I have experienced this first hand, big changes in our life come when we start with the person in the mirror. Be kind to that person because they are always there. As Jon Kabat-Zinn says “wherever you go, there you are". There’s no hiding from that person. So why not be their friend, their ally, their cheerleader. 

Temporarily Unavailble

This week I had a big pain flare and was feeling crappy. Well, understatement, I was a crying mess of self-pity and gloom. I was Eeyore with the raincloud over me soaking me in darkness. 

But I made a smart choice, I reached out to my friend. After some sobbing and some laughing and a bit of dissecting, she helped me gain an invaluable insight. Somehow, we got on to talking about Gary Chapman’s 5 love languages and I realised my default love offering is ‘acts of service’. Cooking a meal, offering to help with a task, taking the kids where they want to go. This is my way of showing I love them. This is how love was demonstrated to me as a young child. My mum had 5 active kids and as adults with children of our own, we often reflect in wonder at how she did it. But she ran us all around the suburbs to our various events, cooked for us, cleaned up after us and loved us all equally and fiercely. She gave and served and gave and served.

 

What I realised this week, exhausted and struggling with the weight of my pain, was that when I have a pain flare, I am limited in my ability to show love using my preferred method. 'Acts of service' become harder. Sometimes I do them anyway. Not a good option because it often results is overdoing it (more pain) or I collapse in a heap half way through an act of service leaving my mess for others to deal with (imagine coming home to a kitchen covered in dishes and me passed out in bed - yeah, love you!). But also, continuing to provide acts of service when I am sore ignores the pain and what my body needs. I probably need a break, a rest or some exercise or meditation. So, what I actually need to do is give myself some 'acts of service'. Or another of the love languages - like quality time or maybe even some words of affirmation ('you are strong and handling this well, it’s okay to take a break'). 

 

When this insight came, I realised – I can still show love, but just in other ways. Firstly, I can just use one of the other love languages that don’t require physical effort from me – maybe a handwritten short note, simply saying thank you, a hug or a touch of the hand. It’s that simple - just choose another love language. Secondly, I can start to talk to my family and friends about these languages and, in doing so, explain that ‘acts of service’ is temporarily unavailable from the menu of love I can give right now. I even made a sign to this effect. 


Another great thing about having 'Love Language' conversations is that it makes it acceptable to also ask for what you need. I have written before about asking for help. One of the best ways to ask for help is to be specific. Maybe that means saying something like, “Right now, my pain is bad, I need you to love me in this way.” Perhaps I need an act of service ("Can you cook dinner tonight please?') or maybe I need some words of affection or I need quality time/touch ('Give me a cuddle!' or 'I need you to come and jump in this warm bed and watch this soppy Netflix show!'). 


Recently I heard a great quote from Karamo – when times are tough, he says to loved ones “I need you to love me a little louder today” – love it!

 

Impatience

One thing mindfulness has shown me is that I can be impatient (*wincing and backing away*). Actually, I have been told by many people that one of my best qualities is my enthusiasm. But I have also been told that I can rush things. There's a fine line and I often push it!

Looking back, I realise impatience often sabotaged my pain management efforts. I was chasing a quick fix and my goal was always "no pain". I was often told to try this technique, this exercise and when I did (once or twice) and the pain persisted, I got impatient and gave up. It took me a very long time to realise this impatient approach and these unrealistic goals, were not serving me. 

Last year, I wrote the first draft of the novel I have always wanted to write! Yay! Now all I can think about is the next level. Editing, polishing, more writing, writing courses, pitching, and the big one... getting it published. I can waste hours imagining and fantasising about what that would be like, to see my book on a bookshelf. I am impatient to get there but need to focus on the small steps of progress. 

Even writing this, I realise I am impatient. I have taken a break from blogging for the past month or so. Towards the end of last year, I was doing some consistent weeks of Wednesday blogging. It is what I have always aimed for because I know blogs require consistency dedication but most of all…persistence. I am struggling to get back into this routine and I feel annoyed at myself and I am wishing things to be other than they are. There is a tightness in my chest, a slightly sour taste in my mouth.  I float off to where I want to be. And forget where I am. I'm impatient to get to that far off place. Now. Without the effort or the challenges. Buddhists sometimes call this attachment or craving and believe it to be one of the causes of suffering. 

 

This is normally the part in the blogpost where I say this is what to do to magically address the problem. But this time, I don’t really know. I have only recently become aware that I am feeling impatient – and, for now, that’s enough of a step for me. I can just notice without judgement. I can also acknowledge that sometimes, being impatient is understandable, human nature really. We all want it now, bigger, larger, brighter. 

 

Another thing that can help is to begin or expand on a gratitude practice. Rather than getting in an impatient flap focusing on where I want to be, I can just look around and appreciate where I am. Looking for the little things, the progress already made, the family, friends, experiences. 


A good friend of mine and I often randomly share gratitude photos. Our dogs, our homes, our cooking exploits! Just that little moment can be enough to bring it back into the present moment experience. 


Lastly, one thing I have turned towards, especially last year when lockdowns forced us all to be more patient, was to do an activity that deliberately requires patience. Sourdough. Can't beat it! Can't rush it! But has to be eaten and savoured - yum!

 

So, if you have some ideas, please feel free to share. How do you deal with impatience?

The steaming pile - dealing with irritability


Reaction: Irritability/Anger. 
Some days, everything just annoys me. I want to scream and cry and throw a tantrum. Things that normally I would calmly deal with or ignore have me huffing, sighing exasperatedly or cruelly snapping. The constant attempt to contain it is like forcing the lid down on a bubbling soft drink that is ready to explode. It is very hard work. Sometimes, it bubbles over without being able to control it. Watch out because there is no mindful pause. There is no consideration, it just pours forth, pure molten rage. 

Response: Awareness without judgement (the hard bit!) Here are 2 techniques that help me. And both are responses after the fact. Mindfulness practice has helped reduce the frequency of outbursts as I become calmer and less reactive but... let's face it, there will be times when it cannot be contained. So...

Name it. A good friend of mine and I recently had a good chat about how we are both feeling in these uncertain times. She suggested that naming your emotions can help. Mindfulness gives me the space to notice and awareness to understand those feelings. As I say to my kids, anger often masks another emotion so if I am feeling angry or irritable then often I need to pause and reflect. Something else is going on below that and I need to figure that out. For example, when irritability was arising w while back during lockdown, I took myself off for a walk. I thought about how I was feeling fed up and annoyed. But I also reflected that I was bored. Bored with being at home, bored with the lack of urgency to anything. Here is a good feelings wheel. 

Apologise. Over time I am getting better and better at this. Mindfulness has helped me to put aside the guilt and shame feelings and just clearly identify the mistakes and be honest and open in apologising. The kids especially appreciate this and it also allows me to demonstrate a healthy relationship behaviour. I hope they can notice and take this practice themselves as they grow and mature. I have recently listened to a good podcast which unpacks the art of the apology. It is well worth a listen.

And if this is something you can easily relate to, you may be interested to know that I recently realised that sometimes my periods of irritability were linked to well, my periods! I have been tracking symptoms with my cycle and there is such a thing as "Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder (PMDD). It is a cyclical, hormone-based mood disorder with symptoms arising during the premenstrual, or luteal phase of the menstrual cycle and subsiding within a few days of menstruation. It affects an estimated 5.5% of women and AFAB individuals of reproductive age." For more information, look here. 


Curiosity - cat killer or mindfulness superpower?

I had an enlightening chat yesterday to a good friend of mine who knows me well. I had volunteered myself as a guinea pig for her to practice a new strengths profile. Unlike the traditional Myers Briggs, this one goes a step further and looks at characteristics that you possess that also give you energy and those that drain you. So we had a robust discussion about things I am good at and things that I tend to avoid. We also discussed the fact that I completed the survey on the evening of a day I was having an extreme flare up and how this might that have impacted the outcome.

So today, I want to talk about curiosity. For me, this came out as one of my top strengths - I use it a lot and it gives me energy. The strengths profile came with caveats - use with caution. When you are curious by nature, you can come up with lots of questions and sometimes no answers. So it did make me reflect (Well, of course I did because I am so curious!), how often does my curiosity get me into trouble?

Cat killer. Living with chronic pain for 20+ years means I am often thinking about my pain. Why do I have it? What have I don't to cause it? Why me? This kind of questioning and curiosity can lead to over-thinking, rumination, catastrophising. It was my default use of my curious muscle for many years until I learnt how unhelpful and destructive it can be. So, it is true, if I use my curiosity only to come up with questions (and questions that may be unanswerable or focus on the negative) then I have no answers. These questions only lead to more pain. More anguish and do not help focus me towards achieving a goal or helping myself (main purposes of self managing chronic pain). 

Then, I leaned to use my curiosity superpowers for good.

Mindfulness Superpower. Learning about mindfulness was a turning point in my life. It has helped in so many ways. Choosing to be aware in the present moment has saved me from the deep darkness that can come from focussing on the past (normally this is a self loathing shame over poor choices) or the future (catastrophising about worsening pain and its impacts on my life). But here, right now, in this moment, none of that matters. I can be curious about my breath, my senses, the little things that can bring pleasure. Mindful curiosity in the present moment means I am not focusing on the why I got here but just that I am here. Pain might be here with me but I can be curious about that. I can be curious about other parts of my body, my experience, my thoughts. After deepening my practice, I can also be curious about my responses and reactions in daily life. I can note my thoughts and emotions. But the key to this kind of curiosity is to do so without judgement. I can now say to myself "How interesting, you are thinking this." or "How interesting, you just performed that task and held your breath." or "How interesting, you chose to do this and not that." But the secondary question that I am slowly starting to ditch is this "What does this mean?" or "Why?". Maybe that part isn't as important as just the noticing. Being curious in the present moment is different to being curious to the point of chasing questions down into a ditch until the answers to the questions become toxic and unhelpful. 

"Why?" It just is. Move on. 

If you want to use your curiosity in the present moment, here are some great introductory resources.


Asking for and offering help

Self managing chronic pain requires you to get comfortable with asking for help. Why? Because it is just not easy to do. It requires self discipline, a strong mindset and consistency. It's a 24/7 job and it can get tiring, frustrating and overwhelming  But the good news is that while you are the main one in the driver’s seat with regards to figuring out what works best for you and then (the main part) driving yourself down that road, you can still have a wingman in there along for the ride (or 2,3,4...). There can be such value in building a supportive team around you. This can help in so many ways. Sometimes you need the traditional form of help - getting some to do something you cannot because of pain. But you also need need someone to talk to when things are getting hard and someone to call on when you need extra motivation. On this journey, my friends and family have been great support. 


A support person can only be effective though, when they know what to do. They need to know how you are feeling ( the actual truth!) and they also need to know how they can help.  When you are having a bad pain day or in a flare up, get your team to help you enact your plan. I have a list of the things that work for me to reduce my pain...or to turn down my pain dial.  I have a very clear and definite plan. My loved ones know about it and therefore they can support me through these difficult times by suggesting the right techniques (i.e. not suggesting I go for a lie down or feel sorry for me). Often my little ones will pipe up with “Mum, you need to go and meditate!” 

Getting to this point required a bit of work.  I needed to get more comfortable with telling the truth and with asking for help. In the past, before I had reached a point of acceptance, I found it difficult to talk about my pain (without tears) and to ask for help. Admitting to the pain felt like a weakness. Admitting I need help made me feel helpless, like I couldn't cope, that I was failing. Often I was battling my own self loathing, guilt and shame. I blamed myself for my pain - I felt my own poor decisions had gotten me into a flare up therefore I need to deal with it (read- suffer the consequences). That is not something you readily share!


A few things helped me turn this thinking around. Firstly, after many conversations with friends and family I realised, they want to help. No one likes seeing someone they love in pain or suffering in any way. They would move mountains to take that pain away. So, many times, they wanted to help but didn't know how or would be repeatedly rebuffed by me. 


"Can I help?" 

"No, I'm fine."


They were genuine requests but I shrugged them off, trying to be tough, strong, prove (to whom?) I could do it myself. I came to realise that there are people in my life that I love. With them, I can be honest and ask for help and I know they will do anything for me because that is what friendship is. And when the time comes, I will be there for them too. 


Secondly, I realise that asking for help was not weakness but a demonstration of strength. Understanding vulnerability (read anything by Brene Brown to help with this!) and mindfulness has helped. Asking for help just means, that, in this moment, pain has made things in your life challenging and to make things easier and to ensure you get through this little period without making things worse (overdoing it, pushing through, ignoring that you are beyond stretched) you ask for something. It might be a meal, taking kids to give you a break, asking someone in the house to do a chore that you normally do. Anything. But if it can lessen your load, in that moment of pain, it's worth it. 


A few tips - asking for and offering help:


Be specific. Recently a friend told me a good way to help is to be specific. Let's go back to those standard lines."Can I help?", "No I'm fine". If you can be very clear around the kind of help you need or are offering, it is easier to accept. e.g. Can you please mind the kids for a few hours so I can go to the warm water pool? Would you like me to cook a meal and bring it over tonight so you can have a night off?

Communicate. During our pain management course we had a family day. It was an opportunity to share with our loved ones some of the things we had learned but also to get some things out in the open. I was able to honestly explain how I felt, explain what I needed. But it was equally important to hear from my loved ones about how my pain made them feel. When pain overwhelms us it is very difficult to see much beyond the sensations. So I ended up gaining some amazing insights into how my pain affected them. These discussions led to some real turning points. 

Listen. Ask for the help of a good ear! A friend or even someone you pay to listen to you but it can be very cathartic to off load some of your problems and challenges. You don’t need the listener to fire back solutions to you. Often the process of telling your story might begin to highlight your own solutions. I was seeing a phsychologist for a while. She was a great listener. So much so that I felt the need to fill all the pauses. I would talk. I would stop talking she would look at me calmly and I felt I should just keep talking, Sometimes, these pauses and silences gave me a chance to realise the stupidity of my own statements and I would sit and have an 'ah-ha' moment while see sat and gave a knowing smile! She would gentle ask questions, clarify a statements I made. She never gave a direction or made suggestions. She would just gentle promtpt and the questions she asked me often led me to my own revelation or solution. She challenged my reasoning and thought processes. 

So, let's get comfortable with asking for help when we need it. Let's all acknowledge that asking for help is a sign of strength. The help is there, our loved ones are waiting to be asked!


Be like a hippo

Hippos like to wallow in the mud. But they know not too stay in there too long especially as the heat of the sun bake bake the mud. Sometimes I like to wallow in self pity but I also know, not to stay there for too long. 


At times, particularly this year, I have fallen from my path. The way back seems so hard. My "back on track" seems miles off in the distance. And then I start to just get sick of it all. Fed up. Over it. Lost. 

At this point, I would gladly take the pill, the drug, the procedure, the operation, anything to take the pain away. The hardness of it all. Any strength I had is drained and I am so tired. Tired of having to always assess, manage, make the decisions, take action. It is at these times that I cannot do it alone but no one else can do it for me. And it is in this conundrum that I get stuck, unmoving and I need to just, wallow. For a while. 

I will do the next right thing. But for now, I am going to wallow. A time-limited wallow. A wallow with awareness, knowing that tomorrow I will get back up again. Like the hippo, I will come out of the mud and graze, swim, play - whatever that thing is I need to do to keep moving forwards. 

#startwhereyouare

#onestepatatime

#wallowwithawareness

#mindfulmoment

#selfmanagechronicpain




Microblog: Routines and Elasticity

(Recently, I have been waking up, writing then stretching in my morning routine. I have been productive and it has been working well. Then, this morning, I woke up very sore and stiff. I knew I had to stretch first. I did, I feel better but now I have less time available to write. So, here is my microblog (thanks Vidyamala Burch for the pro-tip) on routines and elasticity.

The writing brings me joy

The pain holds me rigid

The breath helps me melt

The movement greases and eases the joints

The routine gives my brain a tiny break from decision making

The break gives me space for all the other parts of...

The pain makes me rigid 

So the routine needs to change

The breath helps me melt

And go with the flow



Beginners Mind

A few months ago, we moved to a new house. It's bigger, we have new furniture, different surfaces. Much loved objects are finding new homes. Everything is clean, shiny. 

I have been reminded of the Buddhist principle of Beginners Mind. When we are young, all new things and experiences fill us with wonder and awe. There is no pre-conceived idea of how things should be, no baggage. Think of how babies can spend hours exploring their own toes. Or when learning a new skill - we persist with the fascination of exploring uncharted territory. When we are experiencing the world with our "Beginners Mind', we are mindful, absorbed in the experience, taking it all in. 

I am trying to harness this feeling by continuing to find joy in exploring this new space. It is preferable to my default - looking around for the negative - look all the unpacking still to do, look at the mess over there, oh no there's a scratch on the new table - overwhelm. 

Beginners Mind has also been useful for exploring my pain and inner thoughts. Especially now as I work with a new physiologist and am dealing with a complex flare up. I am attempting to explore physical sensations with calm curiosity without the judgement. In the past, any assessment of pain is immediately met with catastrophising and guilt. While I have always known pain does not equal damage, it has only been recently, with my Beginners Mind, that I have realised pain can just happen. No reason, no fault or blame. This makes for a totally different experience of pain. If it can be random then it is not my fault - I haven't done something to cause it. Ahh... the relief. To just experience pain and note it. Simple. Noted, now move on.  

My next challenge - trying to leave the 20 years of past experiences, beliefs and judgements behind so I can be a beginner. 

If you want to know some more:

Wonder and Awe - there is lots of beauty there in turbulent times - try this book. 

Pain does not equal damage - try this book.

The power of Beginners Mind - try this short video

Questioning

Here's a mindful practice I have been turning to a bit lately. Questioning myself. How? Good question! - I will give you some examples. 

In my last blogpost, I mentioned I have been thinking about posture and pain and muscle tension - a lot! So whenever I can remember, I have been just pausing and asking myself a few questions to help focus on this. Am I comfortable right now? Am I relaxed? Am I bracing or tensing? If yes, do I need to be?

Just by asking myself it flips my attention to my body and I can scan the area and decide if I need to make a change. Without the questions, there is no pause, no scanning and no change. I can be at the computer, braced and tense for minutes and hours. I can be standing in the kitchen preparing dinner, with shoulders around my ears, ramrod straight and in pain. The questions brings the awareness.

Am I over-reacting? This question usually sparks a slump of regret or shame because often the answer is yes. Mainly it's small inconsequential fights with the kids. I have gotten cross about something - not cleaning their rooms, too much screen time or a smart comment (usually something I would say parroted back to me - how annoying!). By questioning, sometimes, I discover my reaction is not in proportion to the action. Getting fired up usually just results in them getting fired up back to me. Then we have two grumpy people and no resolution. This practice helps bring mindfulness to my parenting (and, as my autocorrect pointed out, my partnering!).

Am I okay? Well, maybe I don't ask this question exactly but a mindful check in on my self talk and inner world can reveal some very useful reflections. Non judgemental curiosity might help me realise that I am being very harsh on myself. Another useful question in this self analysis - Would I say this to a friend or loved one? This helps when I am beating myself up about something or ruminating. Like in the mornings when I lie in bed and call myself a lazy slug. To a friend I might just say, 'come on, up you get, you can do this'. So the question prompts a helpful response. A mindful response. I am reading Sarah Wilson's new book This One Wild and Precious Life at the moment and she talks about asking beautiful questions and one of the great ones is how does my heart feel in this moment?

So, ask yourself some questions and get interested in the answer. And if the answer really upsets you...go and watch some episodes of Bluey!