It started with a simple bike ride, but it would lead me to discover how deeply our minds and bodies are interconnected. In 2013, what should have been a fun tandem cycling adventure with my 5-year-old became the first episode in a series of debilitating back pain experiences. Little did I know that healing would require me to look beyond traditional medical solutions and into the powerful connection between mind and body.

The Descent

That first week of recovery surprised me with its intensity. The visible inflammation and constant pain were manageable with ibuprofen, but this was just the beginning. Over time, these episodes became more frequent and severe, stretching from days into weeks. This all unravelled over 3 to 4 years. I went from being an active mother of two young kids (8 and 4 years old), thriving in my role as a Senior Staff Engineer at a Fortune 500 company, to struggling with basic movements. I used to run, cycle, and garden with my kids. Now, I was spending several weeks in bed alternating between crying in chronic pain or just being numb and not responsive—just not living. The pain had escalated to where I could only take pigeon steps leaning heavily onto my husband as I forced myself to walk in severe pain to increase blood circulation. At work, I told my boss I need to work from home and received support through it all. When I found out that I would get a promotion, I cried because I knew I would not be able to handle it. I quit the next day.

The medical journey was exhausting. Multiple doctor visits led to an MRI showing disc degeneration, yet I wasn't "a candidate for surgery." The irony wasn't lost on me—I had to wait for things to get worse to qualify for help. I tried everything: physiotherapy sessions, yoga, acupuncture, standing desks, swimming, chiropractic care, and multiple consults for pain management. Some healthcare providers seemed distant or unsympathetic, while others pushed heavy medications that left me in a fog. One un-empathetic physiotherapist told me "you have to just bear with the pain and get through it", another germaphobic doctor looked at me from 3 feet away, reluctant to touch or examine my back, only to prescribe "ibuprofen" when I was already taking 1000-1200mg (6-8 pills!) a day. Another older doctor enthusiastically prescribed a whole cocktail of Oxycodone and Percocet which sent me in a useless vegetative state lying in bed waiting for it all to end.

Rock Bottom

By early 2016, my condition had deteriorated dramatically. I could not travel anywhere. I missed my nephews upanayanam and we wouldn't venture anywhere far in the car in fear of an episode. Vacations and doing anything as a family now revolved around my back pain. At work, I was struggling to get through the day. I was standing throughout the day including at meetings. I had told my boss I needed to work from home, but that also didn't help. When I was told I was promoted, I knew I would not be able to handle it. I quit the next day. This was Sep 2016.

Episodes had become frequent, triggering for some minor movement like while I turned to hang the keys on the wall. The side of my torso was so inflamed that I couldn't stand straight without crutches. Simple tasks became impossible challenges. The day I had to ask my 8-year-old daughter to help me pull up my pants was the day I truly hit rock bottom. Here I was, unable to dress myself, lying in bed for weeks, alternating between tears and numbness.

The pain wasn't just physical anymore. Dark thoughts began to creep in during those endless hours in bed. The weight of dependency, the loss of my identity as an active mother and successful professional, and the constant, unrelenting pain pushed me to contemplate endings I never thought I would consider. What kept me going was the image of my daughter's face – I couldn't bear the thought of leaving her with such trauma.

The Turning Point

Hope came from an unexpected source during a visit to a pain management facility in Milpitas, CA. A therapist recommended a book by Dr. Sarno on healing back pain. Though skeptical at first – my engineering mind resistant to anything that seemed faith-based – I was desperate enough to try anything. When both my spouse and I were working, we could afford various treatments, but after leaving my job, options became limited.

I downloaded the book on Kindle and decided to read it. It felt like it was faith based and honestly I had little faith after going through years of pain. To be honest, I only read the book because Sarno was a physician. He has now passed away, but I am ever grateful for the books and knowledge he left behind. His book offered a new direction when I needed it most. Importantly, it offered an approach that gave back autonomy over my health - something I had lost over the years.

Discovery

In India, my parents were worried and felt helpless as they saw me wither. My Dad wanted me to come to India where I could pay out-of-pocket and have the surgery. I wasn't convinced that surgery would fix my problem as none of the doctors here had seen that amount of degeneration in the MRI. I managed to convince my family to let me try Sarno's method for three months and I would be okay with the surgery if it did not work. What could I lose? I was already at rock bottom.

Those three months would change everything. Though Dr. Sarno's book didn't offer a specific methodology, it introduced me to the concept of psychosomatic pain. The breakthrough came when I started journaling, exploring deep-seated emotions I had long suppressed. As I wrote, something remarkable happened: the pain began to move through my body in ways that defied traditional medical explanations. I had experienced this before with back pain moving to pain in my legs and my doctors had called it "radiculopathy". This time, however, I felt pain in my shoulder blades that I had never felt before. It was my aha moment. I acknowledged the pain and continued to write what became multiple pages of mostly scribble one night. The pain in the shoulder bladed moved to different places in the body and went away. It was my first real experiential evidence that there might be more to pain than purely physical causes.

An Engineering Approach to Healing

Drawing on my background as an engineer, I approached this new understanding methodically. If pain could be influenced by the mind, perhaps the mind could be "recoded" for healing. This led me to explore meditation, something I had previously resisted despite my family's long-standing practice.

In Mysore, India, I learned about dynamic meditation – a movement-based approach to releasing blocked energy and emotions. Though it seemed far removed from my scientific background, I embraced it as an experiment. Over ten weeks, I immersed myself in various meditation techniques, practicing daily with the determination of debugging a complex system.

Transformation

Gradually, life began to change. By 2018, I was strong enough to help move boxes during our relocation from California to Virginia. Yes, I did trigger an episode - and I had to remind myself that moving is stressful and my back episode is not because of the weight of the boxes. Episodes were less frequent and recovery from episodes became faster.

In 2019, I could garden, cycle, and go hiking again. When we got a puppy during the pandemic, I could run and play without fear. My life no longer revolves around my back pain. I run, dance, walk, and don't limit myself because of my back pain. I went back to working first as a part-time consultant to a full time job in 2019. Today, I work at a leading tech company, managing complex high-stress projects with the same enthusiasm I had before my pain journey began.

The journey taught me that healing isn't always linear. Sometimes, an episode still occurs during stressful times, but now I understand it differently. I've learned to listen to my body's signals and respond with compassion rather than fear.

Light at the End of the Tunnel

My daughter once gave me a painting with the message, "You'll see light at the end of the tunnel, Mommy." She was right. Though I once felt guilty about leaning on her strength during my darkest times, I'm now proud to be the strong presence she deserves in her life.

Meditation remains a daily practice. Since then, my husband has also adopted this practice. My daughter, now 16, may still be skeptical about meditation's benefits, but she's witnessed its power in our family's journey. My son, though younger during those difficult years, understands the transformation his mother underwent.

This experience has ignited a lasting curiosity about the science behind mind-body connections. As I continue to thrive in my career and family life, I remain dedicated to understanding and sharing what I've learned about the profound connection between emotional and physical healing.

[Note: Read the posts in this series to explore the mind-body courses that has helped me further understand this healing journey.]

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