It's a NEW Day!!

July 31, 2004 10:21 AM

I've been doing some creative self-examination lately, inspired by a book I'm reading, "The Structure of Magic." I'll write more about the book later, because I find it fascinating.

I've started to give myself "homework," to help shift my reality a little, and I thought this would be a good place to write it down so that I remember.

This week, I'm working on dealing with physical pain and discomfort. Throughout my life, I've had lots of chronic discomfort. I don't know that I'm that different from anyone else, but when I put together the laundry list, it seems pretty long: headaches, indigestion, nausea, dizziness, shortness of breath, muscle tension, feelings of deep physical exhaustion, allergies. I've spent a good chunk of my adult life trying to find ways to manage and alleviate these frustrating conditions.

The problem is, the human body is a really complex system, and no matter how much I've read, how much I've learned, how many "cures" or "therapies" I've tried, how many pills I've taken or how many doctors I've visited, I haven't found a reliable way to keep these things from happening, or even really to reduce their frequency much. And along the way, I've kind of made things worse for myself by creating compulsive superstitions about things that MIGHT be causing me problems.

For example, I've been afraid of popcorn for several years now. (This, in itself, should be a sign that something is deeply wrong. No one should fear popcorn. It's mostly air for god's sake!) On one of my pre-teen birthdays (11th? 12th?) I remember sitting down in front of the TV with a huge bowl of popcorn and gobbling it down entirely by myself. And then suddenly, I was running to the bathroom, completely sick to my stomach.

Years later, when I started having drastic stomach problems which kept me from eating on most days, someone told me that corn was a food that many people were allergic to. I had been drinking two corn-syrup-filled Snapples almost every day, and when I stopped drinking them, the stomach problems seemed a little better. And then I remembered the popcorn-barfing incident on that long-ago birthday and I thought, "Ah, yes! I must have been allergic to corn all this time. If I just avoid corn and all corn-related products, I will be fine!"

It didn't turn out to be that easy. The sickness continued. Although not drinking the Snapples definitely seemed to help some, it could have been all the sugar that was causing the problem, or maybe just the fact that when I was full of Snapple, I had less room available for more nourishing foods. Or it could have been a complete coincidence that the symptoms were somewhat relieved at that particular time. There was no conclusive reason for blaming the corn.

But the easy solution of believing that my suffering was caused by a particular single thing was so seductive that corn became the first food on my "trouble" list. Then I started to try to determine which other foods were contributing to my symptoms. Onions . . . mushrooms . . . wheat . . . cheese . . . garlic . . . pasta . . . tomatoes. This quest developed into a kind of eating disorder. I began to believe, with very little reliable evidence, that certain foods were making me sick. (For a period of time, I even suspected that drinking water might be upsetting my delicate system.) But avoiding those foods did not necessarily make me well. So in trying to manage my diet this way, I was stressing myself out, limiting my ability to get proper nutrition, not enjoying meals . . . and I was still feeling sick.

So, the net result of my elaborate attempt to alleviate my suffering? More suffering.

That's just one example. During some periods of my life, trying to manage one physical discomfort or another has become obsessive for me. And this intense feeling of needing to figure out how to control my body was definitely a factor in my recent sojourn in panic attack land.

What I've realized now is that if there is some way to reliably manage the onset of these various discomforts - to keep myself from getting a headache, or feeling nauseous, or having painful muscle tension - I don't know what it is. That being the case, these conditions are completely beyond my control at the moment. It is theoretically possible that they could be within my control at some point in the future, but they aren't right now. So my homework this week is to not waste time and energy worrying or even thinking about any possible future onset of physical discomfort.

Instead, if I should experience discomfort, my job will be to do anything that I know of that will reliably alleviate the problem and make me feel more comfortable.

You see, I get so obsessed with causation, that when I have a headache (for example), I fixate on trying to figure out WHY or HOW I got the headache. In the meantime, I forget to do something simple like relax, rest my eyes, or take an Alleve. It's an almost monastic masochism . . . some part of me figures that if I persist in the suffering instead of taking advantage of a "quick fix," I will be more motivated to solve the problem "for good."

But the reality is, being in pain makes any problem harder to solve. And this problem may not be solveable. It may, in fact, not even be a problem. It may just be something that happens. In that case, if I decide to suffer until I find a solution . . . well, I guess I'll be suffering for the rest of my life.

And that doesn't sound very fun.

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	July 31, 2004 10:21 AM I've been doing some creative self-examination lately, inspired by a book I'm reading, "The Structure of Magic." I'll write more about the book later, because I find it fascinating. I've started to give myself "homework," to help shift my reality a little, and I thought this would be a good place to write it down so that I remember. This week, I'm working on dealing with physical pain and discomfort. Throughout my life, I've had lots of chronic discomfort. I don't know that I'm that different from anyone else, but when I put together the laundry list, it seems pretty long: headaches, indigestion, nausea, dizziness, shortness of breath, muscle tension, feelings of deep physical exhaustion, allergies. I've spent a good chunk of my adult life trying to find ways to manage and alleviate these frustrating conditions. The problem is, the human body is a really complex system, and no matter how much I've read, how much I've learned, how many "cures" or "therapies" I've tried, how many pills I've taken or how many doctors I've visited, I haven't found a reliable way to keep these things from happening, or even really to reduce their frequency much. And along the way, I've kind of made things worse for myself by creating compulsive superstitions about things that MIGHT be causing me problems. For example, I've been afraid of popcorn for several years now. (This, in itself, should be a sign that something is deeply wrong. No one should fear popcorn. It's mostly air for god's sake!) On one of my pre-teen birthdays (11th? 12th?) I remember sitting down in front of the TV with a huge bowl of popcorn and gobbling it down entirely by myself. And then suddenly, I was running to the bathroom, completely sick to my stomach. Years later, when I started having drastic stomach problems which kept me from eating on most days, someone told me that corn was a food that many people were allergic to. I had been drinking two corn-syrup-filled Snapples almost every day, and when I stopped drinking them, the stomach problems seemed a little better. And then I remembered the popcorn-barfing incident on that long-ago birthday and I thought, "Ah, yes! I must have been allergic to corn all this time. If I just avoid corn and all corn-related products, I will be fine!" It didn't turn out to be that easy. The sickness continued. Although not drinking the Snapples definitely seemed to help some, it could have been all the sugar that was causing the problem, or maybe just the fact that when I was full of Snapple, I had less room available for more nourishing foods. Or it could have been a complete coincidence that the symptoms were somewhat relieved at that particular time. There was no conclusive reason for blaming the corn. But the easy solution of believing that my suffering was caused by a particular single thing was so seductive that corn became the first food on my "trouble" list. Then I started to try to determine which other foods were contributing to my symptoms. Onions . . . mushrooms . . . wheat . . . cheese . . . garlic . . . pasta . . . tomatoes. This quest developed into a kind of eating disorder. I began to believe, with very little reliable evidence, that certain foods were making me sick. (For a period of time, I even suspected that drinking water might be upsetting my delicate system.) But avoiding those foods did not necessarily make me well. So in trying to manage my diet this way, I was stressing myself out, limiting my ability to get proper nutrition, not enjoying meals . . . and I was still feeling sick. So, the net result of my elaborate attempt to alleviate my suffering? More suffering. That's just one example. During some periods of my life, trying to manage one physical discomfort or another has become obsessive for me. And this intense feeling of needing to figure out how to control my body was definitely a factor in my recent sojourn in panic attack land. What I've realized now is that if there is some way to reliably manage the onset of these various discomforts - to keep myself from getting a headache, or feeling nauseous, or having painful muscle tension - I don't know what it is. That being the case, these conditions are completely beyond my control at the moment. It is theoretically possible that they could be within my control at some point in the future, but they aren't right now. So my homework this week is to not waste time and energy worrying or even thinking about any possible future onset of physical discomfort. Instead, if I should experience discomfort, my job will be to do anything that I know of that will reliably alleviate the problem and make me feel more comfortable. You see, I get so obsessed with causation, that when I have a headache (for example), I fixate on trying to figure out WHY or HOW I got the headache. In the meantime, I forget to do something simple like relax, rest my eyes, or take an Alleve. It's an almost monastic masochism . . . some part of me figures that if I persist in the suffering instead of taking advantage of a "quick fix," I will be more motivated to solve the problem "for good." But the reality is, being in pain makes any problem harder to solve. And this problem may not be solveable. It may, in fact, not even be a problem. It may just be something that happens. In that case, if I decide to suffer until I find a solution . . . well, I guess I'll be suffering for the rest of my life. And that doesn't sound very fun. TRACKBACK (0)		Your Words