A Word about Trauma, Chronic Fatigue & Fibromyalgia

“The only time I’ve seen results this bad was with a patient who told me stories like, “My mother got me through the Holocaust and when we made it to the States she killed herself.””

By 2008, I was being treated by a department at California Pacific Medical Center that specializes in complex cases. One of the first things they did was a neurotransmitter test and their reaction to my test results clued me in to the connection between trauma and Chronic Fatigue Syndrome.

I looked back at my life. What could equal the Holocaust combined with a mother’s suicide? It was obvious to me that as a young child, I had experienced my parents’ divorce in a traumatic way. It wasn’t the fact that they divorced; it was the way they didn’t appear to hold anything back in using me against each other. I imagine that when I continued to do well at school (albeit a little less so), the effects of their behavior on me were too subtle to get their attention.  Continue reading

First Came the Dream…

The dream itself didn’t seem unusual. But I woke up that day in July 2009, really struck by it. It had an insistent quality to it like someone knocking hard on a door to get your attention.

Have you ever had a physical? In my experience, it looks like any other doctor’s appointment. The doctor asks a few questions, orders a few tests. In Hollywood movies however, they seem to involve the patient on a treadmill, hooked up by wires to monitors that are observed by a technician. My dream looked rather like a physical in a Hollywood movie.  Continue reading

Reason Departed

His hand was literally on the handle of my front door. “Wait,” I said, feeling really silly. “I have one more question.”

“Morgan” came back into my apartment and I asked him a question I thought I’d never pose, even to myself.

It had all begun when I noticed a book sitting on a shelf in my Classical Acupuncturist‘s office and asked to borrow it. Soon I had finished reading Many Lives Many Masters and was rather obsessively borrowing Brian Weiss‘ other books from my local library.

“Uh oh,” I thought to myself. “I’ve seen this before. What’s about to happen this time?”

In 1994, I obsessively began reading books about near death experiences. “I can’t take this anymore,” my friend Aaron said, after I commented for the umpteenth time that I felt like something big was about to happen. “I think you should talk to somebody.”  Continue reading