“You can run, but you can’t hide.” — Ted Nugent
The initial feeling when the needle pushes past the flesh, the resistance, and the years of tension buildup and enters into the muscle is akin to nothing that I have ever felt.
Saying that it is painful, would be a half-lie, as it is more unnerving than truly painful. Yet, describing it as the feeling that one gets when they hit their funny bone, just does not do it justice.
It is a feeling of shock (if shock had an additional feeling attached to it), but not the life and death kind of shock, no, acupuncture is more of the, “Oh my god, I can’t believe I am so overwhelmed, so totally taken over, so quickly,” kind of shock.
Immediately after the first needle made itself comfortable, smack dab in the middle of my rock solid scapula, I felt the emotion.
My gut tightened and a low cry passed my lips. It was a weird sound … not one in which I was very familiar with.
It was the sound of silence, or rather, what happens to a person who has lived their entire adult life in the pursuit of avoiding emotional pain.
As the additional needles were inserted in to the various miss-placed muscles in my neck and shoulders, my cries became more pronounced.
It was the sound and feeling of a dozen broken hearts, of a mother’s undying love, of life and of death, and of my own shortcomings.
All at once, these un-felt feelings, from years gone by, began to drain , and my petrified, rock-solid muscles, began to lengthen and loosen, releasing the toxic sadness that I had allowed to build up for almost twenty years.
In other words … I cried. No, I balled. No, I wanted to ball, but held back because I did not want to do that in front of anyone. It was ugly and beautiful, and completely altering.
First of all, when acupuncture is done, one can feel their own life force, energy or Qi, flowing in some places and not in others.
I felt the swirling tingles of electrical pulse, that felt like a whole and vital life, and I also felt the blockages, the points where everything was stagnant, dead, unmoving.