Psychosomatic Me

About a year and a half ago, I had an emotional breakdown. 

It was just as the pandemic was starting, but—perhaps surprisingly—the total collapse of all of my emotional safeguards was caused by something else. Mostly. 

The short version is that someone I cared about very much was a danger to themselves and had been for a while, and the stress of feeling responsible for their emotional and physical safety at every moment had finally crushed me. 

So I talked to my therapist. (Despite all the mistakes I made getting to that point, I will still give myself credit for the A+ coping mechanism of calling a mental health professional who is equipped to navigate the situation.)

Among other things, she observed that emotional pain, like physical pain, is often a sign that you’ve asked too much of yourself. Maybe you’ve overextended your patience muscle, or you’ve cramped your grace muscle by trying too much too fast. 

In my case, I had pulled my focus-all-your-emotional-energy tendon so tight for so long that it snapped clean in half and reduced me to weeping in my cold, dark basement, trying to string coherent sentences together for my therapist. 

My body had finally screamed STOP. YOU’RE DOING TOO MUCH! in a way that I could no longer ignore.

With a little space from the acute emotional crisis that was that day, my therapist and I agreed that a good practice for me to lean into is listen to your body. 

You may be saying to yourself, “But Lillie, you’re a functioning adult, didn’t you already know what your body was telling you?”

I mean…sort of? I got the basic hungry, sleepy, happy, nervous, sore, gotta pee part down, and I’d like to say I’m pretty good at identifying my emotions when I notice them. But one of my longstanding weaknesses is doing what I need for me. That’s how I got to my emotional breakdown, I ignored all the times my body said do this for me.

When I couldn’t sleep and my body was warning, This is consuming your waking and your sleeping? Maybe it’s time to slow down…

When I had a headache and my body asked, Can we just take some time and space away to nourish you?

When I snapped at friends for things that didn’t normally bother me, my body was saying, Dear one, I’m trying to be clear: you’ve spread yourself too thin.

At the time, I didn’t understand what my body was telling me. The escalating dysfunction of not eating, not sleeping, not being myself was what some might call psychosomatic—a physical manifestation of my emotional turmoil. In retrospect, I choose to view it as my body getting louder and louder as she asked me to HAVE REASONABLE EXPECTATIONS FOR YOURSELF.

So, over the last year and a half, I’ve been trying to listen to what my body is telling me. I admit, I feel a bit like I’m parenting myself, muttering things like “Lillie, you’re a little grumpy right now because all you’ve had to eat today was half a cup of coffee; your body is asking for food” and “You usually look forward to people calling you out of the blue—is it possible you’re grumpy because you’ve not been taking care of your emotions?”

I’m starting to do more things for her, take better care of her, and she’s telling me that too: “Your body is thanking you for adequate rest with energy for the day!” or “You’ve been taking care of yourself so it feels restful to stare into the distance, not stressful” I’m happy to see that, and rewarded to know that taking better care of her is what lets me take better care of myself. 

Recently, I decided to hear what my body was asking me and then…not do the thing. 

At a friend’s weekend wedding reunion,  I decided for five days I could throw my (very strict) sleep schedule out the window for these people I might not see again for a while. 

My body had some words for me. 

What started with Sweetheart, we need more rest or we feel icky by the end of the weekend turned into Lillian. You IDIOT. You absolute BUFFOON! What did you think would happen?

After returning home and to my regular bedtime for a few days, I perked back up: See? she said, This is why we stick to our sleep schedule.

With more reflection since my emotional breakdown, and in practicing listening to my body, I’m inclined to say that maybe everything is psychosomatic—my physical and emotional being are inextricably intertwined, and that’s a good thing. My body is working hard to be clear with me, if only I will listen.