Mindbody Syndrome Is Making Me…


crazy?  Mad as hell?

So, confession.  I just wrote a 1500 word blog that I then took down.  Why?  Because it pissed me off.  I just can’t write about my mother and mindbody syndrome and tell less than the full truth without making the mindbody syndrome worse.  (I’ve now put the blog back up with a little more of the anger in.  My back’s telling me that this version is much better.)

I would say that mindbody syndrome is killing me, but then all this New Age crap about the power of words starts to freak me out.  And the truth is, according to Sarno, it can kill you.  And it can certainly drain the quality of your life right down through the very nicely polished hardwood floors.

I’ve been finding that if I stop doing the writing about unconscious feelings, in about four days the hip pain comes back.  Maybe I’m a slow learner.  Maybe my brain is resistant to reprogramming.  Maybe, according to Sarno, I need psychotherapy.  NOT!  I think Sarno doesn’t realize that in therapy you talk about your feelings, you don’t experience them.  Your feelings come from thoughts, therapists seem to think, since they are always reframing your experience for you as if you didn’t have a mind of your own.

But, as I write about the feelings, suppressed, repressed, unconscious or just not experienced fully, I keep having to ask, what am I supposed to do with all this?  Take up a life of crime?  Paint murals featuring the color red?

I seem to be uncovering grief.  My partner said to me, “I don’t think I see you so well.  I don’t think I let myself see you.”

Did I mention on her good days she is a lesbian purveyor of harmony?  And really loving?  I mean, I am enduring couples therapy for a reason.

Today I’m going to go through my rage list and see if there are things I need to do to change my life.  I’m going to check and see if there’s anything I can do about the things that piss me off.  But I know already that many of the things on the list are things I can’t change.  All I can do is write about them.  Have a voice.  Expose the hurt beneath the rage, show, that as I always say, I may be obnoxious, but I always have a REASON.

So here I am.  Spending two hours on mindbody work to make up for slacking.  And yes, my back feels better.

Metta for all of us, with our powerful, uncontrolled and unconscious minds.  As we try to find peace in the storm.

PS-Yesterday I picked up Newsweek and read about the status of women all around the globe.  If you want to get really angry, read that article.  It will almost make you fall in love with Hillary Clinton.  (Except she’s just not that lovable.  I sometimes admire her, and I respect her commitment to empowering women and girls, but I just can’t fall in love with her.  I guess she’s not my type.)

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