Yesterday, my major IT (DNRS speak for symptoms related to a functional neurological condition) was loud. In response to nothing in particular but a willful good mood, it turned up the volume, spending most of the day on FULL blast. It was the second day in a row and to say that it got my attention was an understatement. 

In the past, as per our training, I’ve labeled this as an ebb. And on the outside looking in, that explanation lines up well. There are other words that also come to mind too: dip, spike, surge, peak, valley, and so on. But no matter what the word du jour, it was anything but flow. And as I gave myself the morning pep talk in the mirror, my new habit of starting the day with self-love and gratitude… I couldn’t help but wonder, “Is this just an ebb?” 

Enter: The Extinction Burst

Several days earlier, I read about this phenomenon called Extinction Bursts. The term originates in psychology and parenting circles and refers to the manifestation of increased and intense emotional and physical tantrums when parents are attempting to change and train their child’s behavior. Eventually, the child will tire and cease from pure exhaustion. But it is a long road, and an admittedly a bumpy ride.

After reading the article, I recalled a memory from long ago. I was on the train coming home from work. A young woman and her toddler were sitting across from me and he was having a tantrum of EPIC proportions. Several stops into the ride she decidedly got up and stood by the door, her little one screaming at the top of his lungs, twisting, and flailing his body and arms, jumping up and down whilst tears streamed down his face and onto his t-shirt. He tugged at her clothing and pounded his fists into the air. Although now at the opposite end of the train car, I could hear cries of “Pleeezzzee,” amidst his screeches and wails. It was insufferable and I was utterly arrested and humbled by her strength and resilience. This was a crowded NYC subway car during evening rush hour. There were side glances, snide remarks, and expletives uttered. Heads nodded, leaning in, looking around, speaking in hushed tones. And yet, she stood untethered, holding her child’s arm, occasionally looking down at him with quiet calm, a decidedly stoic expression on her face, her total commitment to being in the moment evident, choosing to not engage with him negatively – or to change her approach for us. 

Reflecting on this further, I thought, “Is it possible I am having an Extinction Burst at 54?” 

Progress

Throughout this journey, I have often noted the inner push and pull, an inner mental friction; call it a competition if you will; neural energy being driven in opposing directions creating resistance, mood swings, fluctuating emotional and physical ITs, and periodic reversion back to old coping behaviors. I have been a late bloomer in this process and my progress has come in turtle steps, at a truly glacial pace. 

But alas, in recent months I’ve made much progress. My PTSD triggers, while still present occasionally, are significantly diminished and less life disrupting. That alone is a major victory. The dysautonomia that was once a constant companion for over two years is now just an occasional guest. And the false beliefs and automatic negative thoughts that were once so convincing and capable of hijacking my attention and focus within milliseconds now have to do quite a bit more mental arguing to get a rise out of me and even then, there is now an adult in the mental room to take me out of it. This was not always the case.

And so, what is a set of maladaptive brain pathways that are weakening and dying going to do? 

You guessed it:

Enter: My own Extinction Burst

My EB (or ebb) – heightened my symptoms in ways I thought unimaginable at this point in my journey (my perfect storm happened back in 2017). For several hours, fluctuating in strength and degree, it seemed that every limbic system impaired pathway was clamoring for what they had been deprived of and tried to create whatever inner conditions they could to get what they wanted: maladaptive coping behaviors to kick in, negative thoughts to run amok, attention, victim thinking, urgency and impulsiveness – in short, those neuron receptors all over my body were trying to get all the familiar chemistry that arises from tending to my ITs as if they were danger. 

But they did not.

I am proud to say – I channeled my inner subway mom and held steady!  And although I did shed a few tears during rounds… let’s face it, symptoms (or ITs as DNRS calls them) are real and discomfort ain’t easy – I didn’t stay there. There was no rumination. The ‘Woe is Me’ tapes didn’t play. It was a moment of genuine self-compassion and I returned to my rounds and achieved the inner calm I intended. Not bad, eh?

The Non-linear Path

Today, when I woke, the ITs were there once again. 

And so, I welcomed them. Out loud! I decided to roll out the red carpet. I went to the mirror for my usual morning self-love meet and greet and told them to come on in. I let them know that I understood that they had things to say and that they could. I then marveled at all of the neurological effort and energy being generated in an attempt to get back to that old familiar self. I could feel the inner tug of war to get me to engage with the maladaptive coping behaviors, negative thought patterns, victim identification trying to take center stage, urgency and impulsiveness trying to get me to obey the false alarms and ‘fix’ myself. And then I lovingly told them yet again, “I see you. I hear you. And it’s okay, you can stay. But I have plans to mount pictures on the wall,” an activity that would most certainly trigger all of them. 

And guess what? 

They softened! They – ALL – softened! I moved furniture, measured, bent, tilted my head, used a step ladder, and hoisted. In short, I did everything that would trigger them all the while telling myself, “Look at you. You’re in an Extinction Burst! Shazam!” and I just paced myself and kept going. And now, my pictures are mounted on the wall and I’m typing this post, on a screen with eyes focused – yet another activity that used to trigger ITs. But it’s alright. I’m alright. Lingering discomfort is still there. My ITs are still whispering in the background. They may even start to scream. But I’m my own mother now, holding my inner child by the arm while we go through this Extinction Burst. I am calm. I – AM – CALM. 

And while my little one has not ceased completely; she is quieter in this moment. 

She is most certainly tiring. 

I am healing. And I am grateful. 

I wrote the above several months ago with the intention of posting it on a personal blog. But alas, fear of failure kicked in and procrastination and paralysis soon followed. In recent weeks, I decided I’d take a turtle step, a term borrowed from Wayfinder Life Coach Training founder, Martha Beck. And so, I downloaded a wordpress theme to start this blog. Does it make sense that this should be the inaugural post? Nope. I can see that it hardly conveys what the name of the blog would suggest. But I’ll kindly ask you to bear with me and do come back, again. Thank you for reading.