Czytaj książkę: «Self-Help for Your Nerves: Learn to relax and enjoy life again by overcoming stress and fear»

Epigraph

Many of those who suffer from nervousness are persons of fine sensibilities, of delicate regard for honour, endowed with a feeling of duty and obligation. Their nerves have tricked them, misled them.

W. R. Houston

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Epigraph

1 The Power Within You

2 How Our Nervous System Works

3 What is Nervous Illness?

4 The Simpler Form of Nervous Illness

5 How to Cure the Simpler Form of Nervous Illness

6 Cure of the More Constant Symptoms

7 Cure of Recurring Nervous Attacks

8 Being Yourself Again

9 Nervous Illness Complicated by Problem, Sorrow, Guilt or Disgrace

10 How to Cure Nervous Illness Complicated by Problem, Sorrow, Guilt or Disgrace

11 Problem

12 Sorrow

13 Guilt and Disgrace

14 Obsession

15 Sleeplessness

16 That Dreaded Morning Feeling

17 Depression

18 Loss of Confidence

19 Difficulty in Contacting Other People

20 Difficulty in Returning Home

21 Apprehension

22 Three Good Friends: Occupation, Courage, Religion

23 Do’s and Don’ts

24 For Those Who Fear Further Nervous Illness

25 Advice to the Family

26 What Kind of Person Suffers from Nervous Illness?

About the Author

About the Publisher

CHAPTER 1 The Power Within You

If you are reading this book because you are having a nervous breakdown or because your nerves are ‘in a bad way’, you are the very person for whom it has been written and I shall therefore talk directly to you as if you were sitting beside me.

I shall show clearly and simply, and yet with all necessary detail, just how a nervous breakdown begins and develops and how it can be cured. THE ADVICE GIVEN HERE WILL DEFINITELY CURE YOU, IF YOU FOLLOW IT. This will take perseverance and some courage. You may notice that I have not asked for patience. A nervously sick person is rarely patient, because sick nerves are usually agitated nerves – that is one reason why he becomes bewildered by them. To wait patiently in a queue can be almost intolerable misery for such a person. However there is a substitute for patience and this I shall present to you later.

It will not be difficult for you to read this book: it is about you and your nerves, and for this reason you will read it with interest, whereas to read an ordinary book or newspaper may seem an impossibility, or, should you succeed, may leave you more distressed than when you began.

I used the word ‘cure’ and this may surprise you, because it implies an illness and you may think of yourself as more bewildered than ill – lost in a maze trying to find your way back to the person you used to be.

On the other hand, you may be so depressed and exhausted that you may readily agree that you are ill. Whether or not you consider yourself ill, more than anything else you want to be yourself again. You probably look at others in the street and wonder why you can’t be like them? What is this ‘terrible thing’ that has happened to you? What is the meaning of these terrifying feelings?

Such feelings may have possessed you for a long time, even for years. Indeed, you may have reached a point of such desperate suffering that you could be thinking of suicide, or may even have attempted it. And yet, however deeply involved you may be in nervous breakdown, it is possible to recover and enjoy life again. I emphasize, however deeply involved.

The guidance you need is in this small book. The perseverance and courage you can, with help, find within yourself. The strength to recover is within you, once you are shown the way. I assure you of this.

Each of us has unsuspected power to accomplish what we demand of ourselves, if we care to search for it. You are no exception. You can find it if you make up your mind to, however great a coward you may think yourself at this moment. I have no illusions about you: I am not writing this book for the rare brave people, but for you, probably a sick, suffering, ordinary human being with no more courage than the rest of us, but – and this is the important thing – with the same unplumbed, unsuspected power in reserve as the rest of us. It is possible that you may be aware of such power but may feel, because of your nervous condition, unable to release it. This book will help you find this power, and show you how to release and use it.

First, you must know how your nervous system works.

CHAPTER 2 How Our Nervous System Works

Our nervous system consists of two main parts, known as the voluntary nervous system and the involuntary nervous system.

THE VOLUNTARY NERVOUS SYSTEM

This part directs the movement of the limbs, head and trunk, and we control it more or less as we wish, hence its name. It consists of the brain and spinal cord, from which a number of paired nerves arise, each ending in the muscle it supplies.

THE INVOLUNTARY NERVOUS SYSTEM

This second part controls the internal organs – heart, blood-vessels, lungs, intestines, etc., even the flow of saliva and sweat. It has its headquarters in a brain centre connected with a delicate network of fibres lying on either side of the spinal column (backbone), from which numerous threadlike branches pass to the internal organs. This second part is not under our immediate control but – and this is of paramount importance in understanding ‘nerves’ – it responds to our moods. For example, when we are afraid our cheeks blanch, our pupils dilate, our heart beats quickly and our hands may sweat. We do not consciously react like this and we have no power to stop these reactions other than to change our mood. We therefore call this part of the Involuntary Nervous System.

The involuntary nervous system itself consists of two parts, the sympathetic and the parasympathetic. Of these, the sympathetic ‘sympathizes’ more demonstratively with our moods, hence its name. The action of the sympathetic nerves strengthens an animal’s defences against the various dangers which beset it, such as extremes of temperature, deprivation of water, attack by its enemies.

Have you ever seen a frightened animal standing stock-still from fear before taking flight? Its nostrils and its pupils dilate, its heart races, it breathes quickly. The sympathetic division of the involuntary nervous system has prepared it for fight or flight.

The pattern of fear

We human beings react in the same way when afraid. Fear begins as an impulse in our brain which excites the sympathetic nerves to stimulate various regions (skin) and organs (heart, lungs, intestines) to produce the signs and symptoms of fear – the sweating hands, racing heart, quick breathing, dry mouth, etc. The sympathetic nerves do this by means of a substance called adrenalin, which is released at the nerve terminals in the organs concerned. Also, our two adrenal glands, themselves under sympathetic nervous stimulation, secrete additional adrenalin into our bloodstream to enhance the action of the sympathetic nerves.

When we are afraid we also feel a horrible sensation in the ‘pit of the stomach’. This is the most distressing component of fear. However, the complete picture of fear includes all the symptoms induced by adrenalin, the sweating hands, racing heart, heaving chest, etc., as well as the spasm of fear felt in our ‘middle’.

Normally we do not feel our body functioning, because parasympathetic nerves hold the sympathetic nerves in check. It is only when we are overwrought (angry, afraid, excited) that the sympathetic nerves dominate the parasympathetic and we are conscious of certain organs functioning. A healthy body without stress is a peaceful body.

Most of us associate kindness and understanding with the word sympathetic, and as the reactions of the sympathetic nerves can be anything but kind, some people find it difficult to reconcile themselves to the term ‘sympathetic nerves’. Therefore, to avoid any bewilderment, I shall henceforth refer to the sympathetic nerves as the adrenalin-releasing nerves – which, after all, is what they are.

So, briefly, we have a Voluntary Nervous System by means of which we move our body; an Involuntary Nervous System, consisting of adrenalin-releasing and parasympathetic divisions which control the functions of our internal organs, each part balancing the other. Normally we do not feel our involuntary nervous system working, but when we are overwrought the adrenalin-releasing nerves are especially stimulated and we may feel our heart beat quickly, our hands may sweat and our mouth may feel dry. In addition, our stomach may ‘churn’, we may feel breathless, giddy, and may have an urgent need to retire to the toilet.

CHAPTER 3 What is Nervous Illness?

It will be appreciated that there are different grades of ‘nervous’ suffering. Countless people have ‘bad nerves’ and many of them, although distressed, continue at their work and cannot be said to suffer from nervous breakdown. Indeed, while they readily admit to having ‘bad nerves’, they would indignantly refute any suggestion of breakdown. And yet a nervous breakdown is no more than an intensification of their symptoms. Although this book is concerned mainly with the development and treatment of nervous breakdown, almost every symptom complained of by people with ‘bad nerves’ will be found here, and such people will recognize themselves again and again in the patients with breakdown described in the following chapters. The symptoms are the same, it is but their severity that varies. The person with breakdown feels these symptoms so much more intensely.

Where do ‘bad nerves’ end and where does nervous breakdown begin? By nervous breakdown we mean a state in which a person’s ‘nervous’ symptoms are so intense that he copes inadequately with his daily work or does not cope at all. Doctors are asked if people really ‘break’, and if so, how? We are also asked how a nervous breakdown begins and develops.

The Breaking Point

Many people are tricked into breakdown. A sudden or prolonged state of stress may sensitize adrenalin-releasing nerves to produce the symptoms of stress in an exaggerated, alarming way. This state of sensitization is well known to doctors, but so little known to people generally that, when first experienced, it may bewilder and then dupe its victim into becoming afraid of it. If asked to pinpoint the beginning of nervous breakdown, I would say that it is at the moment when a sensitized person becomes afraid of the sensations produced by severe stress and so places himself in a cycle of fear – adrenalin – fear. In response to his fear, more adrenalin is released and his already sensitized body is thus stimulated to produce even more and more intense sensations, which inspire more fear. This is the fear – adrenalin – fear cycle.

Two Types of Breakdown

Most breakdowns are of two main types. One is relatively straightforward and its victim is mainly concerned with the distressing sensations brought by his sensitized nerves. In such people, nerves may be suddenly sensitized by the stress of some shock, such as an exhausting surgical operation, a severe haemorrhage, an accident, a difficult confinement; or, sensitization may come more gradually following a debilitating illness, anaemia, or too strenuous dieting. This person is often happy in his domestic life and work; indeed, he may have no great problem other than his inability, because of breakdown, to cope with his normal responsibilities.

The second type of breakdown is begun by some overwhelming problem, conflict, sorrow, guilt or disgrace. The stress of prolonged, fearful introspection gradually sensitizes nerves to react more and more intensely to the anxious introspection, until bewilderment and fear of the strange feelings sensitization brings, even of the strange thoughts it may bring, become as much part of the suffering as the original problem, conflict, sorrow, guilt or disgrace. Indeed, it may eventually be the main concern.

CHAPTER 4 The Simpler Form of Nervous Illness

People suffering from the first type of breakdown (anxiety neurosis), complain of some, or all, of the following symptoms of sensitized involuntary nerves: sleeplessness, depression, fatigue, churning stomach, indigestion, racing heart, banging heart, shaking heart, palpitations, ‘missed’ heart-beats, a sharp knife-like pain under the heart, a sore feeling around the heart, sweating hands, ‘pins and needles’ in the hands and feet, a choking feeling in the throat, an inability to take a deep breath, a tight feeling across the chest, ‘ants’ or ‘worms’ crawling under the skin, a tight band of pain around the head, giddiness, and strange tricks of vision such as the apparent movement of inanimate objects. Nausea, vomiting, occasional diarrhoea, and frequent desire to pass urine may be added to the picture.

The following is a typical list brought to the doctor by such a patient. This was brought by a young mother. It is printed exactly as she wrote it:

All tied up.

Headaches.

Tired and weary.

Palpitations.

Dreadful.

Nervous.

Sharp pain under the heart.

No interest.

Restless.

My heart beats like lead.

I have a heavy lump of dough in my stomach.

Heart-shakes.

Sufferers from these symptoms are easily upset by little things. They are quite certain that there is something seriously wrong with them and cannot believe that anyone else could have had such a distressing experience. Many feel convinced that they have a brain tumour (at least something ‘deep seated’) or that they are on the verge of madness. Their one wish is to be, as quickly as possible, the person they used to be before this ‘horrible thing’ happened to them. They are often not aware that their symptoms are nervous in origin and follow a well-recognized pattern shared by numerous sufferers like themselves, the pattern of continuous fear and tension.

I shall describe in detail the development of such a breakdown before discussing cure, because bewilderment at what is happening and fear of what may happen next are often the main factors prolonging illness.

The Beginnings: Palpitations

Many healthy people are precipitated into this type of nervous breakdown by the fear induced by some sudden, alarming, yet harmless bodily sensation such as their first unexpected attack of palpitations. Even a healthy heart may palpitate when anaemic, fatigued or under stress. Such an attack can be frightening to a highly strung temperament, especially if it comes at night and there is no one to turn to for comfort and reassurance. The heart races wildly and the sufferer is sure it will burst. He usually lies still, afraid to move for fear of further damaging himself. So fear arises. It is only natural to be alarmed by sudden, unexpected, uncomfortable happenings in our body, particularly in the region of our heart.

Fear – Adrenalin – Fear Cycle

Fear causes an additional outpouring of adrenalin, so that a heart already stirred to palpitations becomes further excited, beats even more quickly and the attack lasts longer. The sufferer may panic, thinking he is about to die. His hands sweat, his face burns, his fingers tingle with ‘pins and needles’, while he waits for he knows not what.

The attack eventually stops – it always does – and all may be well for a while. However, having had one frightening experience, he dreads another and for days remains tense and anxious, from time to time feeling his pulse. If the palpitations do not return he settles down, loses himself in his work and forgets the incident. If, however, he has a second attack, he really is concerned. Apparently the wretched thing has come to stay!

Not only is he afraid of palpitating, but he is also in a state of tension wondering what further alarming experience his body may have in store for him. It is not long before tension, releasing more and more adrenalin, makes his stomach churn, his hands sweat and his heart constantly beat quickly. He becomes even more afraid, and still more adrenalin is released. In other words, he becomes caught in the fear – adrenalin – fear cycle.

Tension Through Fear

At this stage the sufferer consults a doctor, who usually succeeds in reassuring him and banishing his fear. However, he may not be sufficiently reassured and may be unfortunate enough to be put to bed and advised to ‘take things carefully’ and to ‘be sure not to overdo it’. When so advised the average person, particularly if young and not yet protected by the philosophy of age, lies in bed brooding over his ‘bad’ heart, afraid to move for fear of straining it further. This patient was already in a state of nervous tension worrying about the palpitations. Can you imagine his tension now? Perhaps you have experienced it?

On the other hand, should the doctor, in an effort to reassure, make too light of the palpitations, the patient may stay in bed of his own volition, convinced that the doctor is witholding the worst and has not told him all. If he remains tensed and afraid he is certain to have further attacks, and the more frequently they come the more he hugs the couch. The more he rests, the more time he has to brood and the more tense and apprehensive he becomes. His finger is continually hovering above his pulse, and in response to this anxiety his heart constantly beats quicker than it should, although not as fast as when palpitating. Actually he thinks it is beating faster than it is, because he is conscious of every beat. To him it is thumping, banging, racing. One ingenious woman arranged her pillows end to end, so that she could lay her ear on the crack between them – in this way she thought she heard less thumping.

The sufferer by now is really sorry for himself. He loses appetite, loses weight and dreads being alone ‘for fear of having a turn’; at the same time he is afraid to be with people for fear of having one and making a fool of himself. It is not long before he develops most of the sensations of breakdown – the churning stomach, sweating hands, pains around the heart, racing heart, giddy turns, headache – in other words, the full fear-adrenalinfear cycle.

If fear of palpitations has not drawn this person into this type of nervous breakdown, fear of some other upsetting bodily sensation generally has. Perhaps he has had pain in the region of his heart which he, in alarm and ignorance, diagnoses as angina. Perhaps a strenuous, anxious, highly tensed life has given him a constantly churning stomach or ‘shaking’ heart at which he becomes alarmed. Whatever the cause, in answer to his continuous apprehension his adrenalin-releasing nerves become sensitized and gradually burden his day with the new, upsetting sensations described above. He tries to fight or escape, until he too becomes caught in the same fear – adrenalin – fear cycle as the person afraid of the palpitations.

As mentioned, these people have these sensations as a more or less constant background to their day. They may have moments of respite; for example, some on waking feel strangely calm and may be able to lie at peace for an hour or so before the churning starts. Others feel calmest at night. Others know no peace.

Panic

Some people, as well as having this background of disturbing sensations, are swept from time to time by intense waves of panic. Some have a panic spasm every few minutes, and this may continue for hours. It will be appreciated how disturbing these spasms can be when a sufferer is working and trying to appear normal and how he lives in dread of their coming at inappropriate moments. Unfortunately they are most likely to come at such times, as he is then most apprehensive and afraid.

It is possible that the recurring attacks of palpitation have now left him and that he is more concerned with the other manifestations of fear, although it is more usual to find the palpitations continuing and adding to the miserable burden.

This is not a far-fetched story. I have heard it so often that I give it respectful attention. I have known this stage, inadequately treated, to last several years, the patient going from doctor to doctor.

To healthy people this history may sound all too childish and stupid. They think, ‘Why doesn’t he pull up his socks and get on with his work and forget all this nonsense?’ That is exactly what he would like to do. But what we, the healthy ones, do not realize is that by this time the fear felt by such a sufferer is greater than any the average person has known or has paused to imagine. Repeated spasms of panic, when accompanied by exhaustion, not only increase in intensity but need less and less to start them. Dread of having them may bring on a whole sequence. Meeting a stranger, the thought of being left alone, even a slamming door may suffice. Also, in spite of a great desire to pull up his socks and get to work, such frequent, intense spasms of fear seem to paralyse his will to act.

Some years ago, when recuperating from an operation, I stayed with friends who were planning a bush walk. They asked a young man to join us. It was not a long walk, they assured me (but long enough for me, thought I, as I looked at his long legs). To my astonishment this big fellow soon fell behind and we frequently had to wait for him to catch up. At lunch he lay exhausted on the grass. Later he told me his story. For years, since student days, he had had recurring spasms of intense panic, so that his life had become a nightmare. He was not afraid of anything in particular, only the feeling of fear itself, and this had become so intensified and exhausting that even that short walk had been too much.

This man was eventually cured and able to lead a scientific expedition. I mention him because he was no weakling but a clever scientist in a responsible position. With help he recovered quickly, after having suffered for ten years.

Fighting

The sufferer from nervous breakdown is neither fool nor coward, but often a remarkably brave person who fights his breakdown to the best of his ability with commendable although often misdirected courage. He may fight through almost every waking moment, with sweating hands and tensed muscles, agitatedly trying to force forgetfulness of his desperate state by consciously concentrating on other things. Or he may pace the floor of his mind, anxiously searching for a way out of his miserable prison, only to meet one closed door after another.

At night he falls into bed exhausted, to sleep the fretful sleep of nervous agitation, the heavy sleep of nervous exhaustion, the drugged sleep of the barbiturate swallower, or, worse still, to find no sleep in spite of heavy sedation.

At times the early part of the evening may not seem so bad. He may feel almost normal and think he has conquered this ‘thing’ at last, and may go to bed saying, ‘Now, that’s the finish. Tomorrow I will be my old self again,’ only to wake and find the spasms and the churning worse than ever. He cannot understand why, having felt so much better by evening, he should wake the next morning feeling as ill as ever, perhaps even worse. He certainly feels more hopeless, if that be possible. He is either convinced that there is some short quick road to recovery which continually eludes him or that there is not, and never could be, a way back to peace from such suffering as his.

He looks back with longing at the person he used to be, the person who could sit peacefully and enjoy a good book, or happily watch television, and he apprehensively counts the weeks, months, even years, since he was that person. He reasons that if he cannot become himself again by fighting, how else can he? Fighting is his natural defence, the only weapon he knows, so he fights even harder. But the harder he fights, the worse he becomes. Naturally – for fighting means more tension, tension more adrenalin and further stimulation of the adrenalin-releasing nerves, and so the continuation of symptoms. To make matters worse, his friends do not hesitate to advise him to fight it. Even his doctor may say, ‘You’ll have to fight this thing old man. You mustn’t let it get the better of you!’

What has happened to him he cannot understand. He is like a man possessed. He does not realize that there is no devil sitting on his shoulder and that he is simply doing this to himself with fear, fight, and flight from fear.

It is at this stage that he may develop severe headache which he likens to an iron band encircling his head, or to a weight pressing on top of it. He may be giddy, nauseated, have difficulty in expanding his chest to take in a deep breath, feel a heavy soreness around his heart or a sharp pain under it which he sometimes refers to as ‘the dagger’. He may also have recurring ‘funny turns’ such as spells of abnormally slowly beating heart, ‘missed’ heart-beats and weak, trembling turns. He loses interest in everything and in everybody, and mounting tension makes him easily upset by trifles. As one young mother put it, ‘I take it out on the poor kids’.

Sedation

The doctor usually prescribes sedatives at this stage, and there is no doubt that the patient may need them. But with a layman’s distrust of such ‘dope’, his family is probably urging him to ‘Throw the wretched stuff down the sink,’ adding, ‘It is only helping to depress you,’ and ‘That doctor will make an addict out of you yet.’ The sufferer becomes further confused because at the back of his mind he too is afraid of that. Part of a doctor’s problem is to convince the patient – and what is just as important, the patient’s family – that such sedation is not only not harmful but, as a temporary measure, may be very necessary, and that it will not make an addict of him if carefully supervised. Usually, when cured, the last thing these people want to see is one of those wretched capsules or a dose of that pink mixture.

Life is so contrary, it can put so many unexpected obstacles in the way of recovery. In the words of one woman, ‘You would never believe the number of spanners that get thrown into the works’.

For example, it is possible that, just as the doctor is winning his battle over the taking of sedatives, someone chooses that moment to take an overdose of barbiturates and the newspapers will be vociferous on the dangers of taking such drugs. The patient, who probably hasn’t looked at a paper for weeks, somehow never fails to see the report or hear about it, and so the doctor’s battle begins again.

And yet, however sedated this person may be, fear usually finds its way through such sedation. Sedation only softens the blow, but it does do that, and so plays in important part in recovery, as will be discussed later.

Collapse

Finally the day may come when, yielding to some extra burden of fear, the sufferer gives up what he thinks is his last ounce of strength, and ‘collapses’, while the alarmed family stand round helplessly. The words heard murmured in the hall, ‘Doctor, he has collapsed,’ close a chapter for him and act as chains to bind him to the bed. If he could not find his way out of breakdown while on his two feet he wonders how he will find it now that he has collapsed. The fight seems too great, the journey too uphill, so he may spend weeks, even months, on his back, or be taken promptly to hospital for shock treatment.

The Constant Pattern of Fear

No doubt you have recognized some of yourself in this person and it may be a revelation to find that the basis of your mysterious symptoms is, like his, fear.

Whether breakdown be mild or severe, the basic cause is fear. Conflict, sorrow, guilt or disgrace may start a breakdown, but it is not long before fear takes command. Even great sorrow at the loss of a loved one is mixed with fear, the fear of facing the future alone. Sexual problems are most likely to cause breakdown when accompanied by fear or guilt. Guilt opens the door to fear. Anxiety, worry, dread are only variants of fear in different guises.

It could be argued that strain, as distinct from fear, may cause breakdown in certain situations. For example, there is much prolonged strain for a middle-aged woman tending an old, sick parent. However, while she copes from day to day, does not look too far ahead and does not think it too important that she is literally chained to her duties, she can sustain months, years, of such strain. She may ‘bend’ and need help from time to time, but she will not ‘break’.

I once commented on the ability of one woman to carry on for so long in such a situation and was told by her brother, ‘Yes, it is a great strain on Ada, but Ada never did think of herself.’ That was the key to Ada’s endurance. Had Ada listened to her sympathizing friends, begun to feel sorry for herself and come to dread the future, she would have sown the seeds of a nervous breakdown.

Strain may cause severe headaches (Ada had migraine) and physical exhaustion, but unless accompanied by fear it will not cause the incapacity known as nervous breakdown. When work threatens to become beyond our physical strength and our responsibilities demand that we keep going, fear usually comes into the picture and any ensuing breakdown is caused not by the exhaustion, as so many believe, but by the fears it brings.

Afraid to Admit Fear

Sometimes it is difficult for a person to admit even to himself that he is afraid. One woman insisted that it was the ‘stomach shakes’, not fear, that caused her nervousness. So I avoided the word ‘fear’ when talking to her and tried to convince her that it was ‘tension’ causing her stomach shakes. Her stomach had ‘shaken’ for six months; she had eaten and slept little and looked the wreck she felt, and yet when she finally accepted that the shakes depended on the excretion of adrenalin through tension, she was able to relax and lose them within a month. However, she continued to insist that she had not been afraid of them.

Is it possible to explain the disappearance of this woman’s symptoms in any other way than that she had lost her fear of them? I asked her for an explanation and she said, ‘I disliked them. I lost my dislike of them.’ She had disliked them so much that she had let them dominate her life for six months. Surely the difference between such strong dislike and fear is only one of degree? At least we have to admit that strong dislike of physical sensations is so close to fear that it can cause the same nervous reactions.

Camouflage your fear as intense dislike if it makes you feel happier. This is of no importance, as long as you understand that the physical reactions in your body to intense dislike and fear are so similar that any difference is negligible.

The Single Pattern

The breakdown described in this chapter was not complicated by a particular problem. It was caused by no more than fear of the very feelings that fear itself had aroused, and as such is the commonest and most straightforward form of breakdown we know. If yours is this type of breakdown, it is a step towards cure to see your various symptoms as part of a single pattern coming from a single cause, fear. These symptoms are not peculiar to you, but are well known to many like you. And yet, however distressing they may be, I assure you that every unwelcome sensation can be banished and you can regain peace of mind and body.

CHAPTER 5 How to Cure the Simpler Form of Nervous Illness

If you have this type of breakdown you will notice that, as already mentioned, you have certain symptoms as a fairly constant background to your day, while others come from time to time. For example, the churning stomach, sweating hands and rapidly beating heart are more or less always with you, while fear-spasms, palpitations, ‘missed’ heartbeats, pains around the heart, trembling turns, breathlessness, giddiness and vomiting come in attacks, at intervals. The constant symptoms are those of sustained fear, hence their chronicity, while the different recurring attacks are the result of varying intensity in sustained fear, hence their periodicity.

The treatment of all symptoms depends on a few simple rules. When you first read them you may think, ‘This is too simple for me. It will take something more drastic to cure me.’ In spite of this, you will need to be shown how to apply this simple treatment and may often have to re-read instructions.

The principle of treatment can be summarized as:

Facing.

Accepting.

Floating.

Letting time pass.

There is nothing mysterious or surprising about this treatment, and yet it is enlightening to see how many people sink deeper into their breakdown by doing the exact opposite.

Let us look again briefly at the person described in the last chapter, the person afraid of the physical feelings aroused by fear, and see if we can pinpoint his own treatment of his breakdown.

First, he became unduly alarmed by his symptoms, examining each as it appeared, ‘listening in’ in apprehension. He tried to free himself of the unwelcome feelings by tensing himself to meet them or by pushing them away, agitatedly seeking occupation to force forgetfulness. In other words, by fighting or running away.

Also, he was bewildered because he could not find cure overnight. He kept looking back and worrying because so much time was passing and he was not yet cured, as if this thing were an evil spirit which could be exorcized if only he, or the doctor, knew the trick. He was impatient with time.

Briefly, he spent his time:

Running away, not facing.

Fighting, not accepting.

Arresting and ‘listening in’, not floating past.

Being impatient with time, not letting time pass.

Now let us consider how you can cure yourself by facing, accepting, floating and letting time pass.

We will first consider cure of the constant symptoms and then of the recurring attacks.

CHAPTER 6 Cure of the More Constant Symptoms

First, look at yourself and notice how you are sitting in your chair. I have no doubt that you are tensely shrinking from the feelings within you and yet, at the same time, are ready to ‘listen in’ in apprehension? I want you to do the exact opposite. I want you to sit as comfortably as you can, relax to the best of your ability by letting your arms and legs sag into the chair as if charged with lead, and take slow, deep breaths through your partly opened mouth. Now examine and do not shrink from the sensations that have been upsetting you. I want you to examine each carefully, to analyse and describe it aloud to yourself. For example, you may say, ‘My hands sweat, they tremble and feel sore …’ This may sound a little silly and you may smile. So much the better.

CHURNING STOMACH

Begin with the nervous feeling in your stomach, the so-called churning. This may feel like an uneasy fluttering or may bore steadily like a hot poker passing from your stomach through your back. Do not tensely flinch from it. Go with it. Relax and analyse it. Take a few minutes to do this before reading further.

Now that you have faced and examined it, is it so terrible? If you had arthritis in your wrist, you would be prepared to work with the arthritic pain without becoming too upset. Why regard this churning as something so different from ordinary pain that it can frighten you? Stop regarding it as some monster trying to possess you. Understand that it is but the working of oversensitized adrenalin-releasing nerves and that by constantly shrinking from it you have stimulated an excessive outflow of adrenalin which has further excited your nerves to produce continual churning.

While you examine and analyse this churning a strange thing may happen: you may find your attention wandering from yourself. This ‘thing’ that seemed so terrible while you stayed tense and flinched from it, may fail to hold your attention for long when you see it for what it is – no more than a strange physical feeling of no great medical significance, and causing no real harm.

So, be prepared to accept and live with it for the time being. Accept it as something that will be with you for some time yet – in fact while you recover – but something that will eventually leave you if you are prepared to let time pass and not anxiously watch the churning during its passing.

But do not make the mistake of thinking that it will go as soon as you cease to fear it. Your nervous system is still tired and will take time to heal, just as a broken leg takes time. However, as you improve and are no longer afraid of the churning, and do not try to cure it by controlling it, and are prepared to accept it and work with it present, you will become more interested in other things and will gradually forget to notice whether it is there or not. This is the way to recover. By true acceptance you break the fear – adrenalin – fear cycle, or, in other words, the churning-adrenalin-churning cycle.

True Acceptance

From this discussion you will appreciate that true acceptance is the keystone to your recovery, and before you continue with the examination of your other symptoms we should make sure that we understand its exact meaning.

I find that some patients complain, ‘I have accepted the churning in my stomach, but it is still there. So what am I to do now?’ How could they have accepted it while they still complain about it?

Or, as one old man said, ‘After breakfast the churning starts, I can’t just sit there and churn. If I do, I’m exhausted after an hour, so I have to get up and walk round, so what am I to do?’ I said to him, ‘You haven’t really accepted that churning, have you?’ ‘Oh, yes I have,’ he answered indignantly. ‘I’m not frightened of it any more.’

But he obviously was. He was afraid that after an hour’s churning he would be exhausted, so he sat tensely dreading its arrival, shrinking from it when it came and worrying about the exhaustion to follow. Of course the churning, itself a symptom of tension, must inevitably come while so tensely awaited.

I tried to make him understand that he must be prepared to let his stomach churn and to continue reading his paper without dwelling on the churning. Only by so doing would he be truly accepting. In this way, and only in this way, would he eventually reach the stage when it would no longer matter whether his stomach churned or not. Then, freed from the stimulus of tension and anxiety, his adrenalin-releasing nerves would gradually calm down and the churning would automatically lessen and finally cease.

This man was asked to do no more than change his mood from apprehension to acceptance. The symptoms of this type of breakdown are always a reflection of your mood. However, it is well to remember that it may be some time before your body reacts to the new mood of acceptance and that it may continue for a while to reflect the tense, frightened mood of the preceding weeks, months or years. This is one reason why nervous breakdown can be so bewildering and why this old man was bewildered. He had begun to accept, but when the symptoms did not disappear immediately, he quickly lost heart and became apprehensive again, although trying to convince himself that he was accepting. It takes time for a body to establish acceptance as a mood and for this eventually to bring peace just as it took time for fear to become established as continuous tension and anxiety. That is why ‘letting time pass’ is such an important part of your treatment and why I shall emphasize it again and again. Time is the answer. But there must be that background of true acceptance while waiting for time to pass.