Trauma

Valentin Baltadzhiev
3 min readFeb 2, 2021

Around 20 years ago I had surgery. I was 8 at the time and somehow I had gotten a hernia. That’s the name for when one of your organs somehow manages to slip through the surrounding muscle tissue. Luckily, even back then, this type of surgery was already looked at as a routine one with almost guaranteed success. There were no complications and if it wasn’t for a scar I probably wouldn’t remember it at all. At least until now.

During my last couple of psychedelic trips, something different happened. The experiences felt much deeper, they weren’t just good times. It felt like I am returning to myself and connecting with myself on a much deeper level. Both emotionally and physically. On the emotional side, I learned to let go much more than I thought was possible. This led to all sorts of improvements in my mental health, but that’s another story. What really surprised me was the physical tension that I felt during my trips. It wasn’t anything like the usual uneasiness that I feel during the come-up — sweaty hands, nausea, etc. This tension was very specific and very localized. It was in the area of what is knows as the psoas muscle, which is right where my hernia was (and where the cuts were made during the surgery). If you have ever woken up feeling your neck a bit stiff, this feeling is similar to that. Only what I felt was much deeper in my muscles, almost as if the nerves themselves were stiff, however crazy that sounds.

After some more investigation and meditation on the subject, I think I found the root cause. After the surgery, it was almost impossible to walk. I hadn’t realized it, but in order to simply walk in a straight line, you need to engage a shit load of muscles, and some of those muscles are the ones connecting your legs to your lower abdomen. And those hurt like hell with every step I took. Only now, 20 years later, did I realize the true implications of this pain. In order to avoid it, I have changed the balance of my whole body, so as to put as little pressure as possible on that part. It doesn’t really show when I walk, but there is a slight imbalance. This unconscious change was probably made to shield me from pain. But there was a side effect to it — the deep tissue which caused me the pain was not used and therefore remained weak. I can feel it now — there is no pain anymore, but there is the subconscious expectation of pain, and this expectation affects how I move.

I have already devised a plan on how to deal with this, and it includes a lot of rehab exercises to strengthen the little accessory muscles in that area of my body. But it also includes awareness — making sure I focus my full attention when I move, in order to show myself that there is no pain in those movements anymore. It seems to be a process of learning — even though I realize there is no pain the expectation doesn’t go away. It will take time.

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