Mental Health Awareness and Scoliosis: The Psychological impact of Scoliosis
May is Mental Health Awareness Month, and June, which is Scoliosis Awareness Month, is right around the corner.
We all know that scoliosis is very physical, and oftentimes treatment focuses only on the spine. But what about the mental and emotional side of scoliosis? What about the whole person?
That’s where my mission comes in: to bridge the gap between mental health and scoliosis care.
As a registered psychotherapist and someone who has scoliosis, I understand the psychological impact of it. And if you have scoliosis yourself, or you’re a parent of a child with scoliosis, you’re probably well aware of this too.
But this is how I would explain the mental effects of living with scoliosis if someone asked, “How are you doing?”
“No, how are you really?”
Without going into my entire life story… just kidding. I’m going to give you a summary of scoliosis throughout my life, the emotional impact, and how I coped with it (which wasn’t always in the best ways).
Sometimes scoliosis makes me sad. Sometimes I worry about it. This spine in my body is pretty curvy, and sometimes pretty cool. It makes me unique and more motivated than ever to stay active.
As an 11-year-old, I accepted it. It was what it was, and I did all the weird exercises that came with it. I even had a traction chair that looked like something out of medieval times, which I would have been embarrassed about if my friends saw it.
I wore an elastic brace in high school that made my skin feel squished and lumpy and stuck out in ways I didn’t like. But if I’m being honest, I stuffed that thing in my locker, never to see the light of day.
High school is already challenging. You’re building your identity and just want to fit in, or at the very least feel accepted and like you belong.
I had thoughts like: What if this gets worse? What if I need surgery?
Surgery was something I learned to avoid, and even hearing the word felt scary. It was so frightening to me that it took me three years before I finally decided to get ACL reconstruction surgery on my knee (I’m very glad I did, by the way).
Throughout college and university, I ignored my spine. I think I completely forgot I even had one. I didn’t have my mom there to “nag” me, which felt annoying as a teen but something I now appreciate. And realistically, I couldn’t bring all my equipment with me while studying in England.
When I moved to Toronto at 26, I was close to a scoliosis specialist I had seen before, so I decided to start paying attention to my spine again.
Looking back, I can see that ignoring it was a way of coping, just not the most helpful one.
Sometimes the anxiety gets me down, but sometimes it keeps me in check and helps me make healthier decisions for my spine.
In summary, it can be exhausting to constantly think about your spine, especially when worry takes over. But try to focus on what you can control rather than what you can’t. And remember, there are other parts of life that deserve your attention too.
You are a whole person, not just a spine.