Merciless Massage: My Journey to Cure Insomnia

by: Elizabeth Redhead Kriston

When insomnia took over and ruined my life, my mission was singular: Find a way to sleep. I was willing to try anything and everything, and I did. My complete misery caused by not sleeping made any fears or concerns I had vanish.

Like I wrote about in a previous blog: Asking More Questions Might Save Your Life: A Horse Tale, I have a problem with saying “yes” before knowing for what I am signing up.This became an issue as I agreed to many nontraditional treatments. My openness and willingness to try it all led to some interesting experiences along the way. Of course, my encounter with the Peeping Tom, middle-aged, Slovak acupuncturists with the Parkinsonian-like tremor did not last long. However, his was not the only short lived treatment program I underwent.

What is a tremor  

I was referred to a natropath to address my health needs including my insomnia. This woman worked in a small shop tucked away in a mostly abandoned strip mall in a mostly abandoned steel town. She was vibrant and chatty without delving into small talk. She was

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all business. She rattled off rapid fire questions and thrust vials of herbs and potions at me. She evaluated me by testing my strength and resistance changes as I held different elements. Before I could blink twice, I had a bag full of overpriced herbs and teas and goos I was supposed to ingest to cure all that ailed me.  

After draining my bank account, I realized she was not through with me. The next thing I knew, she shoved me into what must have once been the broom closet. The floor was covered with mattresses and pillows. The room was heavily perfumed with incense. Some weird musical chant was playing in the background. She ordered me to lie down just as she disappeared.

I started to dose as I waited for her to return. It was a comfy bed and I was bored. She reappeared as suddenly as she had left while mumbling something about a “massage treatment to help clear my pathways.” Massage you say? I love massage! Sign me up.

She dropped to all fours and straddled me. I was a bit scared. My only other massage experiences involved a bed and a sheet and not being sat upon. She proceeded to perform

the “massage” which was nothing less than a mugging. She roughed me up good. I was stunned as this woman attacked me as if she hated me, thrashing me about and shaking me uncontrollably. All the while, I was somewhere between laughter and tears. Nonetheless, I laid there and took it. At the end of this assault she said, “I bet that is a bit different than any massage you’ve had before.” Um, yeah! I think she might have led with that rather than saving it for the end.

When this course of action did not solve my insomnia, I spoke to my uncle. He was a newly graduated massage therapist. He told me about a type of massage called Cranial-Sacral massage. He supposed that it might be just what I need to help me find my way back to sleep.  Through my husband’s coworkers we found a massage therapist who performed this specialized therapy. I called him up and made the appointment.

Of course, at no point did I ask what a Cranial-Sacral massage entailed. I went in blind, which is odd considering my earlier experience with Shiatsu massage. I arrived at my appointment not knowing what to expect. I was a bit surprised when I was not required to disrobe. Still, I did not ask questions and I lie on the table fully clothed.  Michael, the masseuse, told me that sometimes people get “emotional” during this type of massage and if I need to cry to just let it go. He told me if I needed to talk afterwards he was a good listener. At this point I became intrigued and mildly concerned. Just what was this guy going to do to me?

As I lie in the supine position, he slid his hands under my back and pressed one finger into my spine and just stood there, unmoving. I waited for him to start rubbing or kneading or do something massage-like, but he just stood silent and still pressing his finger into my spine.

After a good long while, and just before I was going to get up and leave, I felt my fingers twitch. This must have been what he was waiting for because he immediately slid his finger to a higher point on my spine, and again, applied gentle pressure. This time the wait was shorter. Now my  arms twitched. The twitch was followed by a spasm kind of like a flap. These flaps became uncontrollable. They came in quick succession in both my left and right arms. It was an odd feeling to not have any control over the movements of my arms, but I just went with it. This was getting interesting for sure.

As I lay on my back flapping like a flightless bird, Michael moved his hands once again a little further up my spine. This time the spasms came quicker. My arms continued to flap and my back began to arch. Michael, obviously excited by his abilities, moved on to the next points more swiftly. By this time he was at my neck and the base of my skull. Suddenly and without warning, my simple back arching turned into full sit-ups. Without bending my legs and arms still flapping and fingers still twitching, I sat up and bent completely forward touching my nose to my knees. After I completed one full sit-up, I flopped back down and immediately convulsed into another sit-up. It continued one after another in quick succession. The only thought in my mind was, “I am going to be sore tomorrow!” 

I don’t know how, but Michael was silent through all of this. He moved his fingers to my skull and my spasms continued only with an added element, I began to sob. I was racked with uncontrollable sobbing. I cried like I hadn’t cried in years. So here I was in a stranger’s house, his girlfriend in the next room listening to television through head phones, and me sobbing, flapping, and convulsing into forward bends. What the hell was happening to me?

Eventually Michael removed his hands and my body quieted. As I lay there a little dazed and very confused, Michael shyly said, “Well that was interesting. Were you doing that on purpose?” WHAT!! On purpose!? Who would do that on purpose? He told me he had never seen anything like that before. I looked at him and his eyes were wide as he looked back at me slightly frightened. 

Then he said “What was all the crying about?” Really?  He’s the one that told me I would cry. I said, “I don’t know.” And that was the end of our talk.  Apparently, he is a “good listener” only when he has not just been traumatized by his client’s spasms.

Tips for Being a Better Listener

He left the room to give me time to “get myself together.”  Since I was already dressed, I wasn’t sure what to do with my alone time so I just got up and walked out. His girlfriend was entranced by her movie, but I suspected she heard all the commotion and was just pretending to be oblivious, waiting for me to leave so she could find out what the hell just happened. I paid him his forty dollars plus a tip and asked to schedule our next appointment. “You really want to do that again?” was his response.  

For some strange reason, I really did want to do it again. It was cathartic. Yes it was weird. Yes it was hilarious. But it was also interesting and I felt like this might be a real solution. Clearly something was within me that needed to get out. That something might be impeding my ability to sleep. I wanted to get rid of whatever it was.

I went home and immediately called my uncle. “What the hell did you have me do” I shouted into the phone. I told him the story of my experience. I am pretty sure he wet his pants he laughed so hard. He laughed and laughed and then told me he had heard stories of people doing actual flips on the table while having this type of massage. I really needed to ask more questions before I agreed to do this stuff.

I did go back a week later. Michael and I both had an unspoken expectation. We were nervous and anxious to see what would happen this time. We began just as we had the last time. The spams came quicker, but were drastically smaller. I twitched a little here and there but no big bends happened. No big sobs came. I have to admit, I was disappointed. I wanted to expel my bad stuff. I want to rid my body of all the tension and open up those neural pathways to let my sleep return. Michael, after we were done asked, “Did you hold back?” He was disappointed too.  “No” I said.  “Oh” he said. Then he gave me a regular therapeutic massage because he felt like he had let me down and strangely so did I.

Valuable Resources:  

http://www.restfulinsomnia.com/

http://spiritualityhealth.com/articles/craniosacral-therapy-better-sleep