Dear Healing Bravehearts,
First, I want to say that, having had dystonia since childhood, I have had more than a mild curiosity about how the mind affects the body in the context of healing. I have read extensively on the subject, attended trainings, and been a proponent of many mind-body concepts over the years. Bessel van der Kolk, Gabor Maté, John Sarno, Louise Hay, Peter Levine, and others have all been my teachers. The first book I ever bought, as a teenager searching for answers, was The Relaxation Response by Herbert Benson.
So I am not writing this from a place of resistance to the mind-body connection. Quite the opposite. I value it deeply. My concern is with the way it can sometimes be misunderstood or misapplied, especially in the context of prescribed drug injury, where physiological suffering may be dismissed, reinterpreted, or attributed entirely to trauma, fear, or mindset.
The mind and body are deeply connected. Our thoughts, emotions, memories, stress levels, relationships, environment, and sense of safety can all influence the nervous system. Many of us know what it feels like for fear to tighten the chest, grief to exhaust the body, stress to disturb sleep, and calm connection to lessen or eliminate distress.
This connection is undeniable and intrinsic to human health.
But in the context of prescribed drug injury, the mind-body connection is sometimes misunderstood. Instead of being used as a compassionate framework for support, it can become another way of explaining away physiological suffering. Some people are told, directly or indirectly, that their symptoms are not really withdrawal, but unresolved trauma, fear, emotional repression, or a learned nervous system pattern.
For some, this explanation may feel empowering. For others, it can feel invalidating, confusing, and deeply distressing.
One of the most important distinctions we can make is: influence is not the same as cause.
It is possible for thoughts, fear, stress, trauma, and hypervigilance to influence how symptoms are experienced. Emotional distress can intensify physical sensations. Calming practices, therapy, mindfulness, self-kindness, spiritual practices, movement, or nervous system support can help someone feel more settled.
However, that does not mean the original symptoms were caused by fear, trauma, mindset, or unresolved emotion.
In prescribed drug injury, many people experience symptoms during tolerance, or after dose reductions, missed doses, adverse reactions, medication changes, or discontinuation. The body and brain may be adjusting after months or years of adaptation to a drug. The nervous system may become sensitised, reactive, and easily overwhelmed. Symptoms can be physical, emotional, cognitive, sensory, and psychological. They can feel frightening and unfamiliar, especially when they fluctuate or appear without an obvious trigger.
This does not mean the person is doing something wrong, or failing to think correctly, heal emotionally, or uncover a hidden wound. It does not mean they are keeping themselves unwell, as many are told.
Another important point is that correlation is not causation. This is something Prof. Ashton insisted I understand many years ago. If someone begins a particular practice and later feels better, that can be meaningful and encouraging. Perhaps the practice helped their nervous system settle, or reduced fear, or perhaps it supported coping. It could be that it coincided with a natural window in the healing process. All of these possibilities should be considered.
But improvement after an intervention does not automatically prove that the original suffering was caused by trauma, fear, personality patterns, or mindset.
This is why we need to be careful in our communities. People in withdrawal are often already dealing with medical gaslighting, self-doubt, fear, and isolation. When peers tell them, 'This is not withdrawal; this is your trauma,' or 'You are stuck because of your beliefs,' it can become another layer of harm.
Some people do have trauma histories, and for them, trauma work may be relevant and healing. Others had stable, loving childhoods and were functioning well before a prescribed medication, adverse reaction, taper, or discontinuation changed everything. Many people fall somewhere in between. We support and validate people best when we allow their stories to be their own.
A truly trauma-informed approach does not mean assuming trauma is the root of every symptom. It means creating safety, reducing shame, respecting lived experience, and avoiding blame. In withdrawal, it also means respecting the biological reality of what the person may be experiencing.
Mindfulness, acceptance, self-kindness, and wise action can be profoundly helpful during withdrawal, not because symptoms are 'all in the mind,' but because suffering is easier to bear when we are not fighting ourselves, blaming ourselves, or living with constant resistance to what the body is doing. These practices can support the nervous system while the body continues its deeper work of repair, regulation, and healing.
The mind-body connection should never be used to silence someone’s reality. It should not become another way of saying, 'You are doing this to yourself.'
At its best, the mind-body connection reminds us that we are whole beings: biological, emotional, psychological, relational, and spiritual. In withdrawal, we need room for all of it: the body’s healing process, the mind’s fear and hope, the nervous system’s sensitivity, and the person’s need to be believed.
We can support the mind without blaming the mind.
We can calm the nervous system without denying withdrawal.
We can explore emotional healing without turning every symptom into unresolved trauma.
And we can acknowledge and validate the mind-body connection while still saying, clearly and compassionately:
This is real. Your body is working hard. You are not to blame.
For a deeper exploration of this topic, I will be offering a webinar soon:
When the Mind-Body Connection Is Misunderstood
In this session, we will look more closely at the difference between support and self-blame, the role of the nervous system in withdrawal, and how to use mind/body practices in a way that is safe, compassionate, and genuinely helpful.
With much compassion,
