How to Stop Chronic Health Symptoms from Hijacking Your Whole Day

You open your eyes—bang—it’s there: the familiar pain, stab, throb, itch, ache.

The symptom hanging around like an uninvited guest who’s eaten all the chocolates.

You feel heavy, tight, even dread at facing another day of suffering.

You just want it gone. So, you can get on with your life.

Your mind kicks off its greatest hits playlist: “Here we go again… why me… I can’t manage another day of this.”

Before your feet touch the floor, the day already feels stolen.

You don’t need anyone telling you to “think positive” or “don’t let it get to you.”

You’ve tried that—along with ignoring it, pushing through, wishing it away, even bargaining with the universe.

Some mornings you laugh it off… until the cycle drags you back.

It’s maddening, leaving you stuck between pretending you’re fine and drowning in the frustration you’ve tried so hard to avoid.

If that’s you, you’re not broken. You’re not “the exception” to the rule.

You’re human. Your body’s in pain, your mind’s trying to protect you the only way it knows, and some days the fight feels unwinnable.

I know this all too well.

When it began, I was in denial—it crept up on me, quietly taking over my days. Then came the shock realisation: something was wrong, and I had no idea what or how to deal with it.

Fatigue, depleted energy, it came and went in waves. Some good days, some bad days, and then the bad days could stretch longer. Into months, with pockets of feeling ‘okay.’

At times I was wiped out. Whole day lying prone.

Ten years ago, I went to the doctor. He ran my bloods—everything came back ‘normal’. I was bewildered, he was flummoxed, and a little embarrassed.

He suggested I was on the mild end of chronic fatigue syndrome (CFS).

At the extreme end, you can be bedridden for most of your day, for months or years.

Although not as bad as that, I was limited in what I could do.

I couldn’t run anymore. In my twenties, I had completed two London Marathons.

What’s worse is that I looked perfectly fine, healthy, fit. I had friends say, ‘hey you’re looking well’.

But they didn’t know. I couldn’t explain it.

I quit my warehouse job—processing orders and hauling heavy boxes became too much. I was furtively resting to get through the day.

It wasn’t tenable.

This led to an exploration of ‘1,001’ modalities, tools and techniques.

The Turning Point (Journey to Wellness)

This is where things began to shift

I outline the steps to help you do the same.

By the end, you’ll have a toolkit—a path.

It’s neither straightforward nor a quick fix.

It requires you to be brave.

You’ll need self-compassion when things get rough, patience for setbacks, and steady practice.

In another article (sign up for weekly insights to stay informed), we’ll explore the deeper work of understanding the beliefs and behaviours that have contributed to your symptoms.

But first, you need tools you can use right now.

The turning point isn’t about making symptoms vanish overnight—it’s about knowing what to do when they inevitably show up again.

The turning point isn’t to eliminate symptoms (they may improve)—it’s knowing how to relate to them skilfully.

That’s where genuine change begins.

Learning What to Do When Symptoms Show Up Anyway

You don’t have to win the fight to take back your day.

You can live without symptoms dictating your life—finding balance despite physical challenges.

It’s not about quick fixes—it’s about learning skills proven to work.

Proven in both clinical psychology (over 3,000 published studies showing its effectiveness), and the wisdom traditions of the East (including Buddhism, Zen, Taoism, and other paths of awakening).

Let’s get into it.

Patterns That Keep You Stuck (and How to Break Them)

Your So-Called Comfort Zone

The comfort zone is a misnomer. It’s really a discomfort zone because we are limiting ourselves within it.

Because it’s known, we prefer to stay inside it. It feels safe, but it’s also stifling.

Going outside of the comfort zone requires making a new pattern.

But how do we do this?

Awareness: Discover the Two ‘You’s’—Your Key to Addressing Overwhelming Symptoms

Our mind’s are constantly active. They think in words and images.

Research suggests we have over 70,000 thoughts a day.

That’s a lot of thinking.

Unfortunately, much of it is critical and repetitive.

We suffer most when we believe the voice in our head is gospel.

In Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT), this difference is a cornerstone of change. It recognises that we’re not just in our thoughts—we can also watch them. That shift alone can start to loosen the grip symptoms have on your day.

ACT recognises we have two aspects to ourselves (and most people are not familiar with the ‘other’): The Thinking Self and the Observing Self

The Thinking Self Thinks, the Observing Self Observes

A Stage in Your Mind

Imagine your mind as a stage. On it, a loud, fast-talking character—commenting, judging, catastrophising. That’s the Thinking Self.

And somewhere in the back row sits another presence—quiet, steady, simply observing. That’s the Observer Self. It doesn’t get pulled into the drama; it just watches the whole performance unfold, without passing judgement.

Why start here?

Because when you can see the difference, you create space. Without it, you’re swallowed whole by whatever your thinking self is saying.

Becoming aware of the Observer Self in the background is critical to helping you navigate through the difficulties.

The Observer Self has many names and if you prefer, you can call it ‘Witnessing Consciousness’, ‘Witnessing Self’ or simply ‘Awareness’.

I use all of these terms interchangeably.

Your Life

Reflect upon different periods of time, childhood, school, your teen years, first job, current job etc.

Throughtout these changes, your thoughts and feelings about yourself, and your life have changed.

You’re no longer thinking about that favourite toy you wanted as an 8 year old.

You’re not feeling the first crush you had in adolesence.

Perhaps you’ve had lots of changing circumstances—travel, emigrating, working in different cities, relationships, finances and of course health.

Yet through it all, you’ve always felt like ‘you’.

In ACT, this steady awareness is sometimes called the Observing Self. It’s been there all along—unchanged by the shifting scenery of your life.

Thoughts, emotions, and circumstances come and go, but this awareness remains.

Learning to connect with it is one of the most powerful ways to stop symptoms from running the show.

How can you put this to use to alleviate your suffering?

Spotting the Hijack Before It Takes Over

Symptoms can hijack your day before you’ve even had breakfast.

The key is catching the takeover in its early stages—before the emotional spiral takes full control.

Think of it like spotting smoke before the fire spreads. You can’t always prevent the smoke, but you can stop it becoming a blaze.

EXERCISE 1: Creating Distance from The Thinking Self

When we’re caught up in thoughts, ACT therapy says we are FUSED with them.

This means ‘tangled’ up in them. We’re caught up in the narrative, which sucks you in to believing or acting upon them when you don’t have to.

We can use a simple process to DE-FUSE or DISENTANGLE from them. Use ‘I’m Noticing’ or ‘Here Is’…

How it Works

1. You notice (awareness) you are having the thought: ‘I can’t take it anymore’.
2. You create distance by saying out loud, if possible, or in your head “I am having the thought ‘I can’t take it anymore’.”
   ACT calls this fusion—being tangled in our thoughts. Defusion is the skill of unhooking from them. One way is to add a little distance with phrases like:
   
   – “I’m noticing I’m having the thought…”
   – “Here’s the thought…”
   – “My mind is telling me…”

Thoughts are very sticky, and you are unentangling from their grip.

You are noticing a thought as just a thought.

These phrases are important.

The words matter—it shifts you into that observing space.

It’s like taking a mental step back helping create distance from being overwhelmed by a thought.

Pick a phrase you prefer:

• “I’m noticing my mind is saying…” or “I’m noticing my body is feeling…”
• “I’m noticing the thought… (e.g. Urgh this rash, this pain, I can’t take it anymore.)
• “I’m noticing I’m having the thought…” (Similar to the above but can create more space around the thought)
• “Here’s the thought ‘you’re a mess’.”

Turning Awareness into a Daily Habit

To make this a habit and cement it into your life, use an app to prompt you every hour or two.

If no thoughts are bothering you, carry on with your day. But if they are, this helps you to notice, especially in the early stages when it’s easy to forget and get overwhelmed.

During a symptom flare, resist the urge to fix, judge or react to it.

Instead, call it out as above or label: “Here’s pressure. Here’s pain. Here’s fear.”

Like naming clouds as they drift past. Keep a small notebook and jot down one moment a day when you caught yourself observing rather than thinking.

At first, you might still feel tangled in thoughts. That’s fine. This isn’t about switching them off—it’s about realising you’re more than the noise.

EXERCISE 2: Identifying your top three “hijack thoughts.”

These are the mental cues that signal you’re about to get pulled under.

Keep a pocket journal (or use your notes app) and write down the heavy thoughts that side swipe you daily. You won’t need to do this for long (a couple of days is usually enough for most).

If you are truly dedicated to paying attention, you will soon observe the major ones that continue to arise.

It might be “Ahh, please God, not this,” or “Here we go again,” or “I can’t cope with this.” Write them down.

Your Pattern Break

Then, design a pattern break—something small but grounding.

It could be standing up to stretch, sipping water, or lying down and breathing slowly for a minute. Not to “get rid” of the symptom, but to pause the chain reaction.

Set a cue for yourself—maybe a phone reminder or a bracelet you touch—to ask: “Am I observing or thinking right now?”

This tiny check-in interrupts the automatic pilot and puts you back in choice.

Over time, you’ll spot the hijack earlier and earlier. That’s when the real shifts begin—because you can’t redirect what you can’t see coming.

Stop the Story Before It Stops You

Here’s the trap: symptoms rarely arrive alone. They bring a story with them.

Psychologists call it “fusion,” when you’re so wrapped up in the story that it feels like truth.

In ACT, the skill is “defusion”—unhooking from the story so you can respond skillfully, not just react.

The story might be called “My life’s on hold” or “It’ll never end” or “This means I’m broken.”

It’s convincing because it mixes fact (the sensation) with fiction (the catastrophic forecast).

Give your dominant story a name. Then, when it kicks in, say: “Ah, here’s the [Story Name] again.”

It’s like greeting an over-dramatic neighbour—you acknowledge them, but you don’t invite them in for tea.

These stories show up in many forms—some dramatic, some ridiculous, some strangely familiar. Here are a few you might recognise:

1. “The Greek Tragedy” Story – everything’s fated to end badly.
2. “The What-If Monster” Story – a creature that feeds on imagined disasters.
3. “Groundhog Day of Gloom” Story – same hopeless story, different day.
4. “The End-of-the-World Special” Story – that “this is it” feeling on loop.
5. “The Drama Llama” Story – emotional overreaction in its fluffiest form.
6. “The Perpetual Pity Party” Story – starring you, against your will.
7. “The Distant Storm” Story – a low rumble of dread on the horizon.
8. “The Silent Collapse” Story – the imagined moment everything falls apart.

Once you’ve named your story, you can play with it—try saying it in a cartoon voice, or singing it to the tune of “Happy Birthday.”

The more absurd, the better. It breaks the spell, reminds you this is just a storyline, not a prophecy.

This is true for thoughts too.

This isn’t denial. You’re not pretending the symptom’s gone. You’re just refusing to confuse your body’s signals with your mind’s dramatic script.

Build Resilience for Discomfort (Without Gritting Your Teeth)

The more we fear discomfort, the smaller our lives become.

If every sensation triggers panic or resistance, we’re living in a constant state of bracing.

Here’s the practice: a few times a day, choose a mild symptom to sit with.

Note: It’s easier to begin with milder ones if you can.

If you’re struggling with severe pain, you will have to work with those sensations but you can play with other sensations on your hands, face or elsewhere that may be neutral or less intenst.

Start with what you are capable of.

EXERCISE 3: Four steps to engage with painful feelings.

Initially, set a timer for two or three minutes.

Gradually extend the time. Not as a test of endurance, but as an expansion of willingness. The message to yourself is: “I can be here with this.”

Step 1: Notice physical sensations using your observing self.

Briefly scan your body, noticing any sensations or discomfort. Settle on one and explore its qualities: Is it big or small? Hot or cool? Steady or shifting?

How intense is the feeling? Do you feel presssure, aching, throbbing, pain? Does it move or change as you observe?

Step 2: Use deep breathing to explore the sensation.

Pay attention to your breathing, taking deep breaths as you acknowledge the uncomfortable sensation.

Slowly breathe ‘into’ the pain/discomfort.

Deep breathing can help you relax. Picture your breath forming a protective eggshell around the discomfort.

Step 3: Create more space in your body for the sensation.

Now imagine the eggshell expanding until your whole body can comfortably fit inside it.

Rather than feeling that the sensation is trapped in your body, causing disruption and tension, feel that it has room to move and grow, because your breathing can accommodate it.

Step 4: Accept the sensation, allowing it to be.

Acknowledge the feeling; don’t listen to your thinking self, which might see it as a threat to eliminate. Allow it to be there rather than trying to fight it.

You may not want it there (understandably) but it IS there. Therefore, giving it your attention, unconditionally, can disengage your mind’s narrative around it.

Stay with the sensation—no shifting posture, no reaching for distraction. You can breathe gently, but you’re not using the breath to push the sensation away.

Notice it. Not to make it change, but to let it be exactly as it is.

Whether it shifts or not doesn’t matter. What matters is proving you can co-exist.

Over time, your symptoms will lose some of their threat. The discomfort may still be there, but it no longer dictates every choice you make.

NB This is a practice and you will get better at it the more often you do it.

You’re not trying to be perfect or heroic.

Be kind to yourself. If you’re overwhelmed at any point, then stop. There’s no shame in that.

It’s not about gritting your teeth. It’s compassionately making space..

For most people it’s easier to play with less intrusive sensations first, hence the suggestion.

Practising Acceptance (The Ongoing Skill)

This is where all the earlier skills—Observer Self, early noticing, defusion, and willingness—come together.

Acceptance here isn’t passive.

It’s not “giving up” or deciding symptoms are fine. It’s ending the fight with what you can’t control so you can spend your energy where it counts.

Each day, take a moment to “make space” for whatever you’re feeling.

Close your eyes. Imagine you’re expanding around the sensation, like creating a bigger container so it can exist without overwhelming you.

You can pair this with a phrase: “I’m willing to have this feeling if it means I can live a more meaningful life.” It’s a reminder that acceptance is a choice to stop adding extra suffering to what’s already hard.

On bad days, acceptance might feel impossible.

That’s when the earlier skills—the Observer Self, early noticing, defusion—come into play. They’re the scaffolding that holds you steady so acceptance can take root.

And here’s the paradox: the more you practise acceptance, the less grip the symptom has on your day. It’s still there, but it’s not steering the wheel anymore.

Reclaiming Your Life

Some days it feels like the symptoms are writing your script.

You wake up scanning for signs—bracing yourself for the day ahead. You carry on, but the background angst never stops.

And it’s exhausting—not just the sensations, but the mental tug-of-war.

The sense “I can’t live until this eases.”

But now you’ve got tools to change the rules.

You can catch the hijack before it takes over.

• You see the noise as the one who notices it.
• You unhook from the story—even if it’s still playing.
• You face pain with a new kind of presence.

A quiet revolution from the inside out.

You don’t have to win every battle.

Keep showing up—observing, expanding, accepting.

Some days light, some heavy—but the compass holds true.

This was never about “fixing” you—but reclaiming your life from the symptom-story.

You’ve learned to meet the storm—and stand through it. You’re greater than your worst moments.

So stand tall—inside, if not out. And walk on.

When your mind whispers, “You can’t,” let the deeper voice rise, “Watch me.”