Category: My Therapeutic Journey

I had a lot of intentions for this week. I wanted to spend quality time with my whole family on the bank holiday Monday. I wanted to go to placement and supervision to continue my development as a psychotherapeutic counsellor. I even wanted to write a post about Berne’s ideas around marital games and how a child and young person counsellor might consider those. In the end, however, I have spent the first half of this week either lying in bed, resting on the sofa or having struggles in another room of the house, but I shall leave that vague to not upset readers’ delicate sensibilities.

On Monday, it was a cold. I told my family that I was making the ethical decision to rest so that I could recover in time for the rest of the week. In fact, as a student member of the BACP, I’m required by their ethical guidelines to take care of my mind and body. Then Tuesday came, and the illness hadn’t shifted. Walking downstairs winded me, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to get through my day. Even so, I felt a crushing guilt all day that made recuperation difficult. Wednesday came, and I stopped feeling like I had a cold and started feeling like I had a stomach bug. The guilt left me because I clearly was still too ill, but then another idea popped into my head.

At first, I worried that I had bowel cancer, because that is always what I worry first. But as I talked myself off that particular ledge, I realised that the changeable symptoms could be a result of psychosomatic illness, rather than physiological illness. In other words, maybe I’m ill because of stress and not because of a virus. That then begs a pretty obvious question:

How do you know if your illness is psychosomatic or physiological?

In short, I don’t have a good answer for that. A quick google of that very question lead to this suspect article, but I don’t know if that’s a reputable page or a content farm. Their answers seem good, intuitively, but they don’t really link to any other sources or research. But their answers also rely on you being able to draw an easy link between the symptoms you’re experiencing and a situation or feeling that you want to avoid. Which, okay, yes, that makes sense. But psychosomatic symptoms are actually more complicated than that.

The link between bodily illness and mental illness is widely accepted in psychotherapeutic and psychological circles. The Body Keeps the Score by Bessel van der Kolk is required reading in my and most other courses in the UK. HIs webpage describes the book:

The title underscores the book’s central idea: Exposure the abuse and violence fosters the development of a hyperactive alarm system and molds a body that gets stuck in fight/flight, and freeze. Trauma interferes with the brain circuits that involve focusing, flexibility, and being able to stay in emotional control. A constant sense of danger and helplessness promotes the continuous secretion of stress hormones, which wreaks havoc with the immune system and the functioning of the body’s organs. Only making it safe for trauma victims to inhabit their bodies, and to tolerate feeling what they feel, and knowing what they know, can lead to lasting healing.

The physical effects of mental health are so well known that even the NHS highlights it on their page about stress:

The physical symptoms of stress include:

• stomach problems, stress headaches and other odd pains including muscle pain
• skin reactions, like stress rashes and hives
• feeling dizzy, sick or faint

These symptoms are frustratingly similar to my cold symptoms, except I also had sinus congestion and a runny nose.

So maybe my stress lowered my immune system’s ability to respond, so I got a cold.

Or it could be that my anxiety and stress are causing my nose to run.

And the answer is…

I don’t know.

I have spent more than a year in my own personal therapy, and I have also done reflective essays, skills practice and weekend courses that have opened up a lot of my own internalised ideas and struggles. So at this point, if it’s psychosomatic, it’s gonna be rooted pretty deeply.

On a sidenote, I’m suddenly noticing a few spots dancing around in my vision, which is usually the first sign that I’m going to have a migraine – another symptom of stress and anxiety.

That’s why I’ve decided to do some personal imagery work. A tutor recommended Inner Work: Using Dreams and Active Imagination for Personal Growth by Robert A Johnson, and I’m going to see if there’s anything in my deep unconscious that is eager to get brought to the surface. By the time I have finished the book, I’m sure my symptoms will be gone, but I hope to have a firmer idea for myself whether this bout of illness truly was psychosomatic or physiological, and what steps I might need to take to keep myself healthy for my clients, my family – and most of all – myself.