Sunday, January 19, 2014

Control is An Illusion

I've been managing a migraine for the better part of a week, hence the downturn in posting. I went an entire month between this bout and the last, definitely progress. There I was, getting all optimistic that I'd totally cracked the code, that I was done with these miserable brain-suckers. Reality is a bitch sometimes.

I do want to share an insight I've been hovering over, on the topic of mind over matter. In yoga, we place a lot of emphasis on the breath. There are many categories of yogic breathing practice, the catch-all of which is pranayama, about which I'm not speaking of specifically here. I'm referring here to "mindful breathing", wherein one doesn't so much try to methodically control the flow of breath but to bring it actively to certain places in the body. Theoretically, it's the kind of thing anyone can do, yoga-minded or no.

If that sounds totally esoteric or implausible, fair enough. I've spent years and years in a culture that espouses, nay deifies, breath control though I have always been at the margins. Don't misunderstand, I know it's powerful stuff: I've observed my own (tachycardic) heart rate slow dramatically in response to pranayama. But the idea of breath linked to visual imagery hasn't been tremendously, personally meaningful.

However, I've observed lately, when I have the headaches, and every muscle in my body (above my lumbar spine) contracts to the extent that my mobility is often compromised, that I erect all kinds of mechanisms, internally, to escape from the "original" pain. It's like, subconsciously, I am so afraid of confronting it that I construct pain blockers in the form of other kinds of (more manageable) pain, simply to avoid whatever unknowable, untenable core pain awaits. Don't misunderstand, my muscle cramping (and migraines) is primarily as a result of estrogen imbalance, not my will gone haywire.

But I have discovered, after many hideous hours, locked in a standoff with my body, that if I breathe deeply, methodically, when I'm in the grip of pain that frightens me existentially, that I can get from the fear, to the pain, in a way that I can handle.

People, the worst of pain, sometimes, is in your body's response to it. Having had a child without any medication, I can assure you that this is true, at least some percentage of the time.

On much, real-world reflection, the most searing seat of pain, in my brain, is not as crushing as the process of constantly running from it.

So, to those of you who are managing some sort of chronic pain of any of the myriad varieties - and trust me, I don't like to think of myself as someone managing chronic pain, though it appears, at the moment, that I am: Perhaps you'd like to think of breath imagery, or meditation, not simply as a crunchy esoteric practice, but as a sort of physio wherein you link your body's response to pain with your ability to confront it.

I'm in the weeds here, and I can say it's better than nothing. In fact, sometimes, it's profoundly comforting. That's what I've got today, anyhow.

But I'd love any of your own thoughts and feelings on pain management. Please, let's not be isolated in our experiences of pain - of any sort. Let's talk it through.

16 comments:

  1. Ooh, interesting thoughts! Reminds me of something my therapist pointed out on one of my few visits. I said I was trying to breath mindfully (as you put it) when I was stressed or felt a bad headache descending... and she pointed out that if I only breath that was when something bad is happening my brain will start associating the two. I definitely know the panicky feeling of running away from pain - and lord, I've spent some miserable days... and to be honest, I'm kinda there right now. For me, distraction is usually far more effective than any conscious attempt to confront pain. Sewing a knit top is more likely to let my body relax and stop the pain then meds and lying down. (One day, I'd like to try yoga as a third alternative! I've tried going to the gym to stop a headache, but constricted blood vessels and vigorous exercise just make my vision black out!)

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    1. Oh, that's a very interesting piece of information. I'm going to have to think about that. And I'm sure you'll find yoga when the right place and class appears. xo

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  2. Just thought I'd pass along a tip from my little sister, who was plagued with migraines for much of her life. She thinks it's specifically the inversions of yoga who have almost totally eradicated them. And there's something to it I believe, as inversions really play with the reactivity of your blood vessels.. I'd add that while she's younger than me and athletic, even a pedestrian legs-up-the-wall gives you all the benefits of inversion without the other requirements. I think we'd both agree though that you'd want to be doing your inversions while you're -not- in the throes of a migraine, not adding to the stress instead. Good luck!

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    1. Interesting that you say that because, for me too, full inversions - esp. headstand - is the best thing I can do for my pain. I need to feel pressure on my head to neutralize the pressure in my head. So I completely agree with your sister.

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  3. Dealing with pain today, and it's definitely a kind that's linked to fear... Fear of what might be damaged, fear of reduced mobility for however long, feat of doing more damage. . ,. And so much of this, yes, is linked to the illusion of control, an unwillingness to surrender it.... Hope your migraine abates soon....

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    1. Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that - I have to check your blog for details... Fear is a bitch, seriously. Mind you, so is pain.

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  4. In the 90s I had chronic abdominal pain which turned out to be caused from the estrogen being secreted by a benign tumor on my uterus. A hysterectomy fixed it. The diagnosis took a few years though, so there was chronic pain to manage during that time. I wish I could tell you I came up with a great pain management strategy, but mostly what I did is cry a lot. It seemed to help.

    I'm sorry you're struggling with this so much right now.

    xoxo

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    1. Oh lord, that sounds awful. I'm so pleased that you discovered the problem and were able to solve it with surgery. I can only imagine how long those years must have been. But look, you have come out the other side, so I take comfort from that. xo

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  5. I find that controlled breath do help: pain become less severe and it's somehow much less important, but it works only when you are in it and it's hard to stay there for hours. So meds + sunglasses + not very difficult work to do are my usual route.

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    1. Oh, so true. That's my problem too! :-) So meds and sunglasses are in my arsenal big time.

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  6. I'm knocking on wood right now, because I've been lucky to never have experienced chronic pain. I watch my husband go through it and while I wish I could fix things for him, I can't even relate. At least you are looking into ways to deal with it K. Better than watching it all take place passively, right?

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    1. Well, that's what I tell myself. Though sometimes I'm more passive than I'd like :-)

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  7. Another extremely thought provoking post, K. On days like today (when the pain beats me down a wee bit), I'll try to keep this in mind.

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    1. Thanks Sara! I hope you can keep it in mind on those days. Writing it down helps me to keep it in mind...

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  8. I'm a great believer in 'instructive' vs 'useless' pain. I try not to pull out the big guns (opiods for me) until I check in with my body to se what the pain is all about. Is this pain caused by an obstructed bowel, or an abcess? That's instructive pain - I need to do something about the cause. If it's just scar tissue, or general asshattery on the part of my body, it's useless pain - and I drug that away as needed.
    So even though my approach isn't exactly 'all natural', I've really been learning to listen to my body - and to be less afraid of what it's telling me.

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    1. Oooh, very interesting system. I love the term "useless pain"! I don't think the "natural" approach is the thing. I do think the "conscious" approach is. And it seems you've got it covered.

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