When Daniel first approached me, he’d been suffering from unpleasant and debilitating stomach problems for several years. As a result, his life opportunities had significantly shrunk and the values he’d always upheld seemed to have slipped away.
When we began working together, Daniel told me that he had been caught up in an unhealthy relationship that threatened to cut him off from his friends and family. He became the main breadwinner and his own aspirations were sidelined. He wanted to go to social events with his partner, but this was discouraged and became a constant point of contention in the relationship.
Eventually Daniel left that relationship and over time he began to heal emotionally. Some time later he met a wonderful woman who is trustworthy, fun and caring. It was she who suggested he contact me, as his stomach was continuing to misbehave. Here is Daniel’s description of how that used to feel:
I used to always think in terms of how close I was to a toilet when I was out with a group, strategically placing myself at the end of the table for an easy escape. I was invariably waiting for the movement in my stomach or belly to give me a cold shiver, and expected the worst. It wasn’t always a sign that something was going to happen, but it always made me tighten up.
Things like Christmas parties, nights out with friends, holidays - I spent all of them with the fear in the back of my mind that I was going to be caught in the middle of nowhere and would have nowhere to hide. Going for a run or to the gym, playing golf or doing any new activity, my first thought was ‘What will I do if my stomach starts acting up?’ I would want to stay in and do nothing on days when I could just feel it wasn’t going to be my day.
It felt like the window that opened to allow me to go outside had to operate in perfect conditions. My body had to be in the precise condition to successfully complete things, and so often it wasn’t, or I’d think I was going to be OK, only to be proven wrong again when I needed to run to the toilet without warning.
Over time, my mental capacity to deal with all this lessened. I would feel my heart sink and my trust in my own body would fail. I’d suddenly become absent and stare into nothing, thinking about what was wrong. I couldn’t just go out and enjoy myself without the constant feeling of being on edge. Any slight movement I didn’t recognise could lead to a complete collapse in my confidence.
Now I feel a sense of freedom. What I’ve written may be overblowing how I felt at times, but as I write it reminds me of all those feelings and all the times it happened.
After starting work with me, Daniel engaged with the RCP methodology. We’ve worked through the disconnect between his values at different points. He’s done writing exercises and been able to express some of the emotions that he repressed while in his previous relationship. Suppressed emotions are those we consciously choose not to think about, repressed emotions are those that we unconsciously bury. Writing is one way of unearthing them.
Every January, Daniel has to attend a work event in the USA. Until now he’s dreaded it. He’s there to represent his firm and is expected to mingle, but during the working day the facilities are few and far between. Imagine how delighted I was to receive this email from him a little while ago, just before one of our sessions:
Now, and over the last few months, I have slowly been getting more comfortable at different events and in different ways. My confidence and trust in my own body is growing. There are still plenty of times that I expect something to go wrong but now, sometimes, it doesn’t. Each time that nothing happens, I feel a little confidence grow. Even if it’s just for a few minutes, it gives me hope.
I’ve eaten and drank things over the last few months that terrified me before. I was flying home this morning, and plane food is something that would have usually sent me spiralling. This morning it was just food. Granted, it’s not the best food in the world but I could eat it. While I ate I did think ‘this could go very wrong’, but at the same time I thought ‘but what if it goes right?’ It did, nothing happened.
I now wait, and do things. I wait for nothing to happen, and when nothing happens my relief grows, my confidence grows. I imagine that this is what recovering from a broken leg or another bad injury feels like, gradually building confidence in something that has failed you. Every meal I eat is a new test to see how I cope, every event another tick in the column headed “nothing happened”. The count of times where nothing happens is starting to increase after years of neglect. Seeing the column headed “something bad happened” remain at the same count for a week or two weeks is building my confidence.
Nothing is happening and it’s the best thing that could happen to me.
As Daniel’s testimony shows, when chronic pain or anxiety diminish your capacity, a reaction that constitutes nothing is a brilliant result!