So many of us live with stress-related illness. It might be the chronic pain of fibromyalgia, the exhaustion of ME, or the bloating and abdominal upset of IBS. We manage with over the counter medications and rest, but have you ever wondered if your body is trying to tell you something more?
I’ve lived with fibromyalgia and IBS for many years. It wasn’t until I stopped fighting it and looking for medical solutions that it started to get better. That’s because, instead of simply medicating and trying to ignore my symptoms, I spend time with them.
I know. I totally get that this sounds weird – why do you think I resisted it for 15 years? I kept going back to the doctor, convinced there must be something they were missing. I put myself through countless tests and procedures before coming to terms with the fact that there was no medical cure. I had to start listening to my body.
Learning to listen to your body
The first time I gave into the idea that stress-related illness could be improved with psychological approaches, it felt strange. I used a pain meditation course on the Headspace app that encouraged me to actively focus as intently as possible on the worst pain I had. I experimented with moving my focus away from the pain, then back in again, at varying distances from its epicentre. Remarkably, it had an effect. My pain felt more manageable. It didn’t bother me as much. I was able to manage how much it affected my sleep.
Next, I started paying attention to pain in therapy. Over the weeks, as I learned to stop avoiding how I felt physically, I also stopped numbing how I felt emotionally. I became comfortable with difficult feelings, processing them and letting them change me rather than trying to block them or push them down.
Stress-related illness as a warning sign
If this still feels a bit woo woo, I get it! Remember, I was the one who wouldn’t believe the doctor for more than a decade. Here are a few examples of how my body guides me into choices that suit me better, to decrease the impact of stress-related illness:
Pain as a signal to rest
It’s long been accepted that stress-related illness symptoms can flare up when we’re emotionally overwhelmed. When my mum died, I handled it really well. I’ve been in recovery from fibromyalgia for 15 years now, so I know how to pace myself. Coincidentally, I was selling her house as she’d been in a care home for a few months, and I’d somehow managed to book the house clearance for the same week as her funeral. She lives 2 hours from me, so I decided it would be in my interests to get it all done in my one week away from home.
Notice the heaviness of your task
On the day of the house clearance, I thought I took care of myself well. The removals team were paternal and considerate, and I alternated friendly chats over tea and biscuits with escapes to the garden to cry when I felt like it. Likewise, I trusted the church and the funeral director to handle the day of my mum’s funeral, and allowed the sadness when it came. I congratulated myself on really allowing my emotions to do what was needed, and I felt fine.
But when I got home, everything changed. I had the worst fibromyalgia flare-up in years, and was pinned to the sofa for the entire weekend. I was confused, but I went with it – a far cry from years ago, when I know I would have dosed up on painkillers and pushed through the neglected house chores and emails. By Monday morning I was fine.
Over the next few days, I pondered what went wrong until I realised what it was: my body was making me rest. This is the problem with fibromyalgia for me. My body forces me to rest, because it doesn’t trust me yet to build rest into my daily life. It was taking control to remind me that – irrespective of how well I’d taken care of myself, and how efficiently I’d managed things in my head – I’d been through a lot and I deserved to rest now.
Low energy as a guide to what doesn’t serve me
This week, I went to a music gig I’d been looking forward to for a while. Back in my thirties, I had bands I loved and enjoyed live gigs, so when a band from my youth was making a comeback at a local venue, I bought a ticket and was looking forward to it.
And I enjoyed it! I chatted to a few people, got to know some new songs, and danced to old favourites. I didn’t love the feeling of being in a slightly drunk, boisterous crowd – especially as I wasn’t drinking – but I took it as all part of the experience and didn’t think any more of it.
The next morning, despite sleeping well, I felt sluggish and a bit headachy. I had to drag myself out of bed, and I got myself going with some caffeine – unusual for me. When I wrote about it in my journal before starting my day, I realised that – although I’d enjoyed the music, I hadn’t liked being constantly bumped into by so many people. My body didn’t feel safe and comfortable in that environment. Sadly, my mosh pit days are over, but now I know, and I can find different ways to enjoy the bands I love.
IBS and cravings as a warning not to overdo it
IBS is the one thing I’ve struggled to understand on an emotional level until recently. I’ve wondered why – when I’ve eaten so well and done all the ‘right’ things – I’ve had an attack of symptoms. It must be about the food choices, right? Perhaps I’m allergic to something else!
I don’t think so. This month, I’ve been taking part in a walkathon with one of my corporate clients. We commit to walking as many steps as we can during the month. I’m doing really well – so well that I’ve set myself a target, and I’m on course to achieve it. Yesterday, I felt so good that when I realised I was almost at 20,000 steps, I kept on going. It was a great moment seeing that on the leaderboard.
What I hadn’t factored in was that I’d also been to my regular Pilates class yesterday, so my overall physical exercise was much, much more than I’d normally do. On top of an already high step count for the week, it was just too much. As I got myself going this morning, I noticed that I felt nauseous, my stomach was unsettled. I didn’t fancy breakfast, but I was craving salty snacks and ice-cream – both things that a vulnerable emotional part of me sometimes tells me I need to fix all my problems. A part of my system that’s feeling tired and overwhelmed by the volume of stuff I’m putting on myself.
Changes we can make to reduce the symptoms of stress-related illness
Once upon a time, I would have given in to all the quick fixes I thought my body needed. Thanks to doing the emotional work, I can now recognise my cravings, low energy or pain for what they are: a signal from my body that I need rest, a different form of diversion, or less on my plate. Ideally, I’d realise this before my body had to intervene – and often I do – but at least I can identify more easily what the problem is now that I know how to listen to what my body is telling me.
Don’t get me wrong. I still see the GP when I’m worried about something new, and I do take painkillers when I need some extra help. But these days the way I manage my life means I’m rarely floored by my pain or my IBS. There’s also a lot more joy, because I make sure to build it into my daily life instead of putting at the bottom of my to-do list. Because I know my body doesn’t function well without it.
I wonder if we all might have more quality of life if we could learn to tolerate and listen to our symptoms. What might your body be trying to tell you?
