Overcoming Vertigo: How Hypnotherapy Helped Me To Find Balance

I love writing, and when I wrote my first blog, I did so feeling that it would be the first of many, that I would be writing at least one a fortnight, but I was adamant that I would not be strict with how often I wrote; I was also adamant that I would write about what came naturally to me at the time: whether that be about something I was experiencing at the time or something I had learned or a topic of interest to me – I was sure that I would only post when it felt natural to do so. Against all of the advice, I do not want to post blogs simply to manipulate algorithms or for likes: I want people to read them because something I write resonates with them, or perhaps to consider something previously unthought of. Sometimes I receive really poignant responses to my blogs and this does spur me on to keep writing - to share my thoughts with anyone who is kind enough to read my work.

But I have not posted anything for a while with good reason: on Sunday 13^th April, just a few minutes before midnight, I was lying on my bed, leaning slightly on my right elbow, scrolling mindlessly ton my phone, when suddenly, the room started to spin. Right now, as I try to describe the movement, I struggle to find the words to describe it: was it fast or slow? Spinning or rotating? Oscillating or twisting? I am still not sure. But it moved and I know that I was not experiencing my room in its normal state. It occurred so suddenly, that, stupidly, it felt as though, somehow, something like a vortex had leapt out of the phone screen and had done something to my world. I cannot even say how long the experience lasted, but it went as quickly as it arrived and suddenly my world was still again.

I was diagnosed with Benign Paroxysmal Positional Vertigo (BPPV) and, despite being told by the doctor that it occurs after cold or flu like symptoms, this had not been the case for me – it had arrived without warning. For the immediate days following, I fluctuated between feeling as though I had just come off a roller coaster ride and normality. It did something to my stomach, making me feel as though I were a child who has just stopped spinning around, consumed by dizziness, with that aftermath of a stomach still churning. I had also not realised how tired I would feel and the doctor explained that this was due to the brain being forced to work harder to accommodate the conflicting information whilst trying to maintain balance. As a result, I often fell asleep in the daytime and struggled to focus on anything, especially computer screens, hence my lack of blog writing.

Then the days turned into weeks, then months and I remember the relief I would feel after seeing clients, so pleased that I had managed to get through really successful sessions without the world spinning, grateful for the genuine care and concern I received from all of them. I remember the fear of standing up in case I felt so dizzy that I would fall, the fear of sitting still in case it felt as though I was moving and the fear of closing my eyes in case the world that spun was one of darkness.

And all of this was caused by the movement of tiny crystals, called otoliths, which reside on the hair cells of the ear. When they move, they disrupt the flow of a fluid found within the sensory canals of the ears and without normal flow, the canals cannot detect movement and this is what causes BPPV.

Undoubtedly, BPPV is horrific and, in my case, likely a lifelong condition, with the most reliable cure being the performance of certain manoeuvres three times a day. And when I first performed them, I did so with little result or incident. But then, on one occasion, whilst performing the manoeuvre, I experienced an acute vertigo attack, one so horrendous and petrifying, that I cried like a child and refused to carry out the manoeuvre again, fearing it more than the prospect of living with condition. I knew that the exercises would make me better, but I just could not bring myself to perform them. The fear of having the world spinning again was too strong.

And this is the point at which my story changes. One weekend, in the midst of all this, I attended an Evolve College training session on hypno-healing and decided to ask our facilitator, Joan Clarke, if there was anything she could do for my vertigo and fear of performing the manoeuvres. She admitted that vertigo was not really the typical ailment that is healed through hypnosis, but she was willing to give it a try. As I sat there in the chair opposite her, being hypnotised, I felt something inside my head change, and where there was once a so much disorientation and discomfort, resided peace and tranquillity. What Joan did was enable me to experience the vertigo as something else. Through the use of metaphor, I was able to alter the sensation of the vertigo, as well as the fear, transforming both into sensory, tangible things; this way, I was now able to move the sensations and make them into new, nicer things. I was able to alter discomfort and soon there was a mini body of water inside my head, with a lulling soft, gentle wave which washed the crystals away, a beautiful pale yellow light replacing them. But whilst enjoying this calming sensation, I then experienced an acute migraine. I was worried at this point that I had actually experienced an adverse reaction, but Joan simply instructed me, if I could, to move the migraine. I felt that I could, so I did. It went as swiftly as it had arrived. Then everything changed and I felt an instantaneous inner strength and resilience.

On my way home, I remembered something that Joan had said just before the hypnosis - that the dislodged crystals are tiny and I am much more mighty and powerful than they are. And as soon as I arrived back home, I removed my shoes, went straight upstairs and performed the exercises - the very same ones which I had been too afraid to perform and vowed that I would never perform again. Was I nervous? Yes, afraid even, but something happened during that hypnotherapy that made me get on with it, regardless. Somehow I knew that I would be fine, that I would be able to manage any discomfort, if it did occur, with ease. And I was fine and I have not had another episode since.

So, despite knowing that it is unlikely that I will be completely free from experiencing another vertigo attack - I still feel somewhat disorientated at times and find it difficult to look at a screen for a long period of time - I feel confident in the knowledge that I now have the strength and resilience I need to manage the condition. And I do not know if this intervention would yield the same results for someone else, but it definitely was a success for me. That evening, I did cry again, but instead of crying in fear, I cried with happiness, jubilation even, that I had conquered something that had been causing me such significant distress. I also cried with disbelief that something seemingly so simple had been so powerful. The deep gratitude I felt towards Joan and the process was palpable - not only was I no longer in physical discomfort and fear, but I also gained a new inner strength that I had never had previously and that still resides somewhere in those soothing waters.

www.lisamasoncooper.com

I am Lisa Mason-Cooper, therapist and accredited life coach, whose services include hypnotherapy and counselling. I am passionate about all things relating to healing, mental health and wellbeing.