Why did you give yourself a headache?

Healing is not linear.

Sometimes things gets worse before they get better.

Therapists might ask clients, “How will you know when things are better?” It’s a question that requires some reflection and perhaps some planning to get to the answer. We have to identify what’s happening in our lives, cultivate intention, curiosity, perhaps develop new routines, habits, and work toward increased self-awareness. I have come to a place where I know I feel much better. Maybe even better than I have felt in several months.

As a therapist, I notice that some people have a hard time looking back and identifying that they have come a long way. They need gentle reminders and prompts to practice this remembering. The process requires acceptance around the idea that we can’t be the exact same as we were before. Maybe we will be different — and maybe that is actually better. It’s all so uncertain. Often times, it seems like we can’t help but compare our current experience to a past experience we are clinging to. This practice also requires softness and a, “this is how it is, right now”, kind of self-compassion.

Feeling better is relative. I know that I feel better because I am experiencing the impact of healthier habits. I have incorporated a number of routines and activities that have had a direct impact on my body and mind. They are sometimes pleasant, also challenging, somewhat familiar, but also different from the way I felt about them in the past. Doing these things for myself allows me to remember how important movement, play, friendship, therapy, and learning are for me.

A bendy tree in the park.

“Why did you give yourself a headache?”

Last year, I took a Brainspotting training. I knew very little about this modality. A therapist had introduced me to it in our session, but I didn’t understand what she was doing at the time. However, after several conversations about Brainspotting with a dear friend of mine — who was moved by their experience of it — I decided I should check it out for myself, through training. Brainspotting is a therapeutic modality created by David Grand. While he was doing EMDR with a client, he found that going slow (as opposed to the faster eye movements or tapping used in EMDR) allowed for deeper client-therapist attunement, and for processing to unfold in a focused, mindful way. The therapist uses a pointer to guide the client’s eyes toward a spot that corresponds with where they appear or feel most activated. With Brainspotting, David Grand proposes that, “Where you look affects how you feel.”

As much as I looked forward to the training, I had some concern about how much information I would be able to retain and how much I would be able to participate online, over three long days. I was experiencing a very bad headache that threatened to take me away from being present. Recently, with the support of an amazing physiotherapist, I learned that I get cervicogenic headaches. I was diagnosed with migraines in my teens, years after experiencing these awful headaches. I had never heard of cervicogenic headaches until I met my very skilled physiotherapist. Both of these types headaches cause eye pain, a crunchy neck, nausea, brain fog, and pain that can leave me out of commision for a day or two.

A few days before my Brainspotting training, I met with a few peers to discuss therapy modalities during our monthly consultation session. A peer in the group discussed a therapy modality that might ask a client a question such as, “Why did you give yourself a headache?” I listened with deep interest as she explained the approach. Such a question was intended to get the client to explore possible deeper meanings associated with the pain. There is a delicate dance of psychoeducation, ongoing assessment, and collaboration with a client in order to try something new. My peer’s explanation highlighted that this type of prompting would make sense for some clients who were educated on the modality, and willing to go there with it — but it is certainly not for everyone. Also, she only shared just a snippet of the particular therapeutic model, so much of the context and theory was missing.

Early the next morning, I woke up with an awful headache. “Why did I give myself a headache?” This was all I could hear in my own mind. Something triggered me from the discussion the evening before. I had gone months without getting a headache because I was consistent and committed to physiotherapy appointments and exercises. I also made other changes in my life that contributed to less physical pain. The headache felt like a set-back and I blamed myself for it. I took the maximum recommended amount of Advil that I could take during this time, and still, I headed into training on the Friday morning feeling anxious, and in pain.

As I learned about Brainspotting during the training and witnessed the dynamic trainer use Brainspotting on participants in our cohort, I felt very intrigued and excited. Some participants said little through their processing — but they indicated that there was something shifting for them, or that they felt compelled to move a certain way as a way to feel a release. Some participants shared incredible stories through their processing and gained new insights as they had waves of release through tears, laughter or sometimes both. I started to think that there was no way I was going to be able to experience anything close to what I observed — especially not while working with a stranger online — and with pain I could not shake. Oh, the comparing mind was activated! So was doubt. When it was time to do our practicum with our partners, I used my headache and my anxiety growing around it, as the issue I wanted to work through.

As I followed my partner’s pointer and moved my eyes slowly to the right, she found where I was most activated. I felt nervousness move through my body as I focused on the pointer. At times, I closed my eyes because I started to feel nauseous, anxious, and vulnerable. The intensity of my headache on my left side increased. I said a few words about the physical sensations I was noticing. I turned away and closed my eyes because I was fearful of the nausea. There was a moment where I remembered that at the core of Brainspotting is curiosity. I told myself, “Michelle. Be curious. You are not going to throw-up.”

I opened my eyes again and focused on the pointer. I said out loud, “There is something here about grief. I haven’t made room for my grief.” Seconds later, I felt my pain decrease on the lower left side of my head. But, I was conscious of my partner holding up her pointer for what felt like a very long time. I told her, “I’m good. There is nothing else.” My concern about my Brainspotting partner took me out of the focused mindfulness for a moment. She checked-in with me and my SUDS (subjective units of distress) level was 4/10. I started with an 8/10. She encouraged me to keep going. As I continued to feel the activation while I directed my gaze to the pointer, I paid close attention to my breath. It had become my anchor. I felt the sensation of a glob moving in the left side of my face. Then, my headache completely disappeared. I was in disbelief. I shook my head around, I moved my neck and tried to feel for the pain. It was gone. I started to laugh. I said, “I can’t believe this, but my headache is completely gone! My SUDS is 0/10. I don’t feel any pain!” I was a bit confused, and relieved at the same time. What actually happened? I kept checking to make sure I wasn’t just imagining that the pain was gone. Something had shifted when I acknowledged that there was grief that I needed to work with it. I was indeed, able to become fully present. I trusted myself even more.

During Brainspotting, my physical pain got worse, before it got better. I was able to process emotions through my body. I developed a sense of trust in my capacity to heal my own physical pain as I acknowledged my grief. This part of me, felt seen by me — the observer — and by my practicum partner. She almost disappeared into the background as she held the pointer, but I knew she was there holding space for me to process.

It is freeing to physically feel a shift happening. I am reminded that when we learn to be in our bodies and work with the parts of us that are needing attention, we can regain a sense of autonomy. I still remember the feeling of the pain decreasing, then completely disappearing. I also recall the laughter and surprise that arose in me afterward. I return to this, not as a way to cling to the experience of relief, or to strive to re-experience the exact feeling: It is a reminder of what is possible in my healing.

By pausing and dropping in the question, “What do I now know?”, I am able to reflect on the past several months. My Brainspotting experience feels like an analogy for many other moments in my life. Sometimes things get worse before they get better. I stress the sometimes part. I’m always practicing with impermanence — even when I’m not paying attention to it. I know — and have understood for myself — that healing is not linear. It can be circular, a spiral(ing), an upward arrow, zig zag, and super loopy. It can often feel like one step forward and two steps backward. Each day, I am reminding myself that when my intention and attention is held in curiosity, I am less likely to lose connection with my inner world, and less pulled toward living in a contracted state.

These days I try to treat each practice, activity, and learning as experiments in finding small delights, cultivating new energies, and creating more trust, and safety within myself. I stress the try part. Whether dipping a toe in, or landing firmly in discomfort, I know that turning toward pain can feel scary — and sometimes it is necessary in order to see what’s on the other side. I inherently know that when I cherish and care for myself, I am better able to access the wisdom of my own body and mind.

Inspiration

Read: The Sound of Grief by Vishakha Singh A beautifully written story of love and loss by Vishakha Singh.

Listen: This American Life - Episode 692: The Show of Delights A delightful listen.

Wanting to Read: The Book of Delights After hearing Ross Gay speak about celebrating the sweetness that life has to offer, I now know that I want to read his book.

Listen: Tina Turner Chanting: Nam-Myoho-Renge-Kyo Thank you Ms. Tina.