One morning five years ago, in the summer of 2019, while at home in San Miguel de Allende, I woke up ready to get out of bed to shower and start my day. As I swung my feet to the floor to stand, a pain shot up my right foot. It felt like an ice pick had been thrust up through the middle of the bottom of my foot. I crumpled to the floor, then dragged myself across the bedroom and out to the living room. I was completely shocked by this event and had no idea what caused it. After several failed attempts to stand up and walk, I panicked. My mind went into overdrive, and not in a good way. In a matter of minutes, I reduced myself to a paralyzing state of fear and helplessness. All I could think to do was to call American Express, have them get me a flight to Athens, Georgia, where my parents and family lived, and then call my brother to pick me up at the airport. I needed a safe place to land.
A few days later, I sat in an orthopedic surgeon’s office, who assessed my condition and decided to put a boot on my foot for six weeks. I hobbled around on crutches during that time and relied on family members to take care of me. Being the strong independent one in the family, this was a new experience for all of us. At the end of six weeks, the boot came off. I tried to stand and was dismayed to find that the shooting pain I felt in my right foot was still there and now was also in my left foot too! The doctor had no definitive idea what the problem was but gave me some stretching exercises and a hot and cold hydrotherapy regimen. Two months later, there was little to no improvement.
My anxiety was off the charts. I was in constant pain. I couldn’t stand or walk for longer than a few minutes. I needed crutches to stand or walk. I was mortified I had to use a motor cart at the grocery store and that my eighty-four-year-old mother was wheeling me in and out of doctors’ offices. I tried acupuncture, two more orthopedic specialists, a podiatrist, a foot therapist, platelet-enriched plasma therapy, and two twelve-week rounds of physical therapy. After all of that, I had yet to receive a definitive diagnosis, prognosis, or treatment plan that worked.
I stayed in limbo for eight months; shuttling back and forth between my mom’s and my dad’s homes, and relying on them and the rest of my family to take care of me. My mental and emotional states were deteriorating. I had frequent bouts of extreme anxiety and depression as I catastrophized constantly about my future as an invalid. Everything I loved; hiking, dancing, traveling, and leading others on nature-based experiences relied on my ability to use my feet. I felt my life slipping away and I was petrified. My sisters and my mother insisted I go on anti-anxiety medication. They were very uncomfortable with the person they saw I was becoming. I felt paralyzed and let my life come to an absolute standstill. I was consumed by fear, a sense of loss, and grief.
Finally, at the end of those eight months of hell, my mother said something to me that changed everything. She told me firmly, “You need to go back to San Miguel. You can’t continue to stay here and wallow in your fear and pain. You need a distraction. You need to go back to the thing, the time, the place where you were the happiest. You need your dogs. You need your friends. So you can’t dance. You can watch and listen to the music. You need to focus on things outside of your feet and your anxiety.” And she was right. I went back to my life in San Miguel and slowly my feet got better all on their own.
Now, I know you are wondering. What the heck was that all about then? Well, I will tell you what I believe. This” Being” that I call myself, is made not just of my body, but also of my mind, heart, and spirit. This is true of all of us. These aspects of ourselves do not work independently of one another as we might sometimes like to think. Each affects the other. So, the first thing I did was look back at what was happening to me during the timeframe right before my feet became so painful I couldn’t walk. It seems so obvious now, but it wasn’t at the time.
First, I was in a terrible relationship, that on a heart level, I knew was not good for me. Instead of having the clarity and courage to change directions, I arrogantly believed that I could change its destructive course and have my happy ending. As I tread deeper and deeper into a predictable catastrophe, my nervous system rebelled. I started getting headaches, stomach issues, and dizzy spells. I ignored my body’s signals, until one day, my feet said, “Enough! We are not going to let you take one more step into this craziness. In fact, we are going to give you a nice long “time-out”.
Second, I had developed an intense need to spend time with my parents who were in their late eighties and nineties. Every time I visited them, it never seemed it was ever enough time. I had a fear every time I visited, it would be the last. As soon as I left, I yearned to turn around and go back for more time. Being the adventurer and nomad of the family since my late teens, I never came home to spend more than a few weeks at a time with them. And being the oldest, I was always the child that they relied on to take care of my siblings; be the strong one, the one with “the good head on her shoulders”, the one they never had to worry about. But, deep down and after all those years growing into adulthood, on a soul level, I needed the caretaking from them that I never felt I got growing up. Instead, I had always felt I was the third parent in my family. The crisis with my feet created the exact perfect scenario for me to receive the deep heart and soul-centered need I had to be taken care of by my parents. And, I was. Once that need was met, I never again had the fear of not having yet another opportunity to visit with them.
Five years later, my feet are fine. I’m back to dancing and rock climbing better than I did four decades ago. The boyfriend is long since gone and I am content and at peace with the rich full relationships I got to experience with both my parents before they passed last year.
So what are the lessons here? Please pay attention to what has heart and meaning in your life. Tell the truth to yourself about what is going on and don’t try to force things that are not for you and your highest good. Your body’s signals can be the strongest messages from your spirit. Just because you can’t walk now, doesn’t mean you won’t in the future, so don’t stress yourself out getting too far ahead of yourself. Remember to take time to put your problems aside, and do some things that give you joy. There are always things you Can do and always things you can be grateful for. And maybe, just maybe, it is a good thing sometimes, to listen to your mother.
Here’s something to ponder in times of suffering and despair.
A Prayer
Refuse to fall down
If you cannot refuse to fall down,
refuse to stay down.
If you cannot refuse to stay down,
lift your heart toward heaven,
and like a hungry beggar,
ask that it be filled.
You may be pushed down.
You may be kept from rising.
But no one can keep you from lifting your heart
toward heaven
only you.
It is in the middle of misery
that so much becomes clear.
The one who says nothing good
came of this,
is not yet listening.”
Clarissa Pinkola Estés, The Faithful Gardener: A Wise Tale About That Which Can Never Die
A footnote:
Conversion disorder, also called functional neurological symptom disorder, is a psychological disorder in which a person experiences neurological-type symptoms, such as paralysis, blindness, or seizures, that have no medical explanation. Essentially, the disorder causes physical symptoms that are not directly associated with any underlying physical condition. In other words, the body experiences a level of stress that it converts into a physical symptom, without there being any actual physical cause. It’s possible that a person’s emotional state, such as feeling trapped in a bad relationship, could lead to physical symptoms, including difficulty walking or paralysis. Chronic stress and emotional trauma can manifest in physical symptoms like muscle weakness, pain, and even paralysis.
Before
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After
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