The Real Story Behind "Psychosomatic" Pain
- Rob Lieblein
- Jul 5
- 6 min read
Somewhere along the way, a doctor or physical therapist probably asked you about stress. It may have come near the end of an appointment, or after MRI results looked unremarkable and the conversation had nowhere else to go. “How are things at home? Work been busy?”
And maybe the question caused something in your chest to tighten up, because you know what it can imply: Psychosomatic. As in, imaginary. As in, you're doing this to yourself or making this up.
So you said work was fine, the appointment wrapped up, and you drove home wondering whether anyone was ever going to take your pain seriously.
If that scene is familiar, this post is for you. The connection between emotions and chronic symptoms is one-thousand percent real, and it's one of the best-documented findings in modern pain science. In fact, it means something close to the opposite of how we usually interpret the word.
First Things First: Your Pain Is Real
Whatever is happening in your back, your neck, your head, or your gut, you are genuinely feeling it. The fear that connecting emotions to symptoms will get your pain filed under “imaginary” makes complete sense, because plenty of people have had that exact experience in the exam room.
You've probably also noticed something you may not have shared with anyone else: Your symptoms are worse during certain stretches. The week grades are due. The morning after a hard conversation with a parent or an administrator. Sunday evening before a Monday you're dreading. Has this kind of evidence been piling up for a while?
How Your Brain Decides to Produce Pain
Every pain experience you have ever had was produced by your brain. That includes the time you stepped barefoot on a piece of Lego, and it includes the pain you're living with now. Signals travel up from the body, and the brain evaluates them and decides whether the situation calls for pain. Usually that system works beautifully, like when you touch a hot pan. The brain senses danger, produces pain, and you pull your hand back.
But the brain doesn't make that call based on tissue damage alone. It takes into account everything it knows: your past experiences, your current environment, what you believe about your body, and your emotional state. Fear, anxiety, frustration, and feeling trapped all register in the brain as evidence of danger. And when the brain concludes you're in danger, producing pain is one of its favorite ways to protect you.
"When the brain concludes you're in danger, producing pain is one of its favorite ways to protect you."
Let’s look at the system through an analogy. Picture a security guard watching a bank of video monitors overnight. He doesn't judge what he sees on the screens in isolation. If the radio has been crackling all week with reports of break-ins nearby, an odd shadow in the parking lot can look like an intruder, even if it’s a shadow from a tree that’s been there night after night.
Same shadow, different assessment, because the background information changed. Your emotional state is the radio chatter. It doesn't create the shadow, but it shapes how your brain interprets it, and whether the alarm goes off.
The research behind this is substantial. A 2013 study published in the journal Brain followed people with back pain over time and found something striking: as the pain became chronic, the brain activity associated with it shifted away from the regions that process raw sensory input and toward the circuits that handle emotion. In plain language, the longer pain sticks around, the more it becomes an emotional-circuit phenomenon rather than a tissue-signal phenomenon.
There's a reason we describe heartbreak as an ache, and a betrayal as a punch to the gut. Emotional and physical pain share neural real estate. A 2011 study out of the University of Michigan found that intense social rejection lit up some of the same brain regions as physical pain. The overlap is built into us.

These findings line up with what a few clinicians observed decades earlier. Dr. John Sarno, a rehabilitation physician at NYU, noticed in the 1970s and 80s that many of his patients' chronic pain resolved when they addressed emotional stress instead of structural findings. At the time, he didn't have the imaging technology or the current neuroscience findings to explain why. What we now know about how the brain learns and reproduces pain points right back to what Dr. Sarno was seeing in his patients decades ago.
What This Means for Your Sunday Night Headache
So what does this mean for the week your neck seized up during report card season, or the migraine that shows up like clockwork on Sunday evening?
It means the pattern you've noticed is a feature of how pain works, and spotting it puts you ahead of most people trying to understand what’s happening to them. Your nervous system has learned to associate certain emotional states, like pressure, dread, conflict, or overwhelm, with danger. When those states show up, it turns up the protection. The result is genuine pain, produced through genuine neural circuitry, triggered by something no MRI will ever show.
I saw this in my own history long before I understood it. I dealt with chronic migraines for nearly ten years, and they started within months of changing jobs, buying a house, and becoming a father. Three good things, all at once, profoundly changing my life.
The headaches faded only as I adapted to that new life. Nobody connected the dots for me at the time, and it wasn’t until my later recovery from a much bigger cascade of symptoms that was able to see those migraines for what they were: my brain responding to an overloaded nervous system, even a load made of things I wanted.
Nobody is saying you're creating your pain. Your brain runs this protective program outside of your awareness and outside of your control, the same way it regulates your heart rate and your blood pressure. You didn't choose it, and you can't think your way out of it by deciding to be less stressed. But you can retrain it, and understanding the emotional inputs is a big part of how.
The Word That Did the Damage
The word psychosomatic has caused a lot of harm over the years, mostly because it got twisted into meaning “made up.” The accurate version is far more helpful. By taking the role of emotions into account your pain becomes much more explainable, and explainable pain comes with a path forward. Mysterious pain leaves you cycling through specialists. Explainable pain gives you something to work with.
If the guard at the monitors has been getting bad radio intel for years, replacing the cameras won't help. The information stream is that powerful. Addressing emotions in recovery means giving your brain better data about how safe you are, so its threat assessment can finally update. That work is more practical and less dramatic than most people fear, and it comes down to consistency far more than intensity.
Something to Try This Week
If you'd like to test this for yourself, try a small addition to your day for the rest of the week.
When a symptom flares up, take thirty seconds and rewind the tape. Ask yourself what you were feeling ten or fifteen minutes before the flare. Were you reading an email you'd been avoiding? Anticipating a difficult meeting? Rushing to get somewhere with no time to spare?
You might find nothing, and that's fine. Patterns show up over days, and a single data point rarely tells the story. Instead, you're building the habit of looking in a place you've probably never been told to look. And think about it…teachers do a version of this instinctively: when a student acts out, you find yourself wondering what happened at home or in the hallway before you ever saw the behavior. You're extending that same curiosity to your own nervous system.
Remember to treat this process lightly. Curiosity works better here than detective-level intensity, and there's no grade at the end.
Where to Go From Here
If this post brings up some things that seem familiar to you, there's a next step that goes beyond reading. I put together a free five-day email series called One Thing a Day: A Five-Day Recovery Starter for Educators with Chronic Pain. Each day gives you one small, concrete practice, ten minutes or less, that builds directly on the ideas you just read. Day 1 starts with the same kind of observation described above.
You can sign up right here. And if you're experiencing some skepticism, you're in good company. This whole approach is built for people who need things to make sense before they try them.
Recovery is possible, and understanding the role your emotions play is one of the most important pieces of the puzzle. What the brain has learned, it can unlearn.
Wishing you good health and quick healing.

References
Hashmi JA, Baliki MN, Huang L, Baria AT, Torbey S, Hermann KM, Schnitzer TJ, Apkarian AV. Shape shifting pain: chronification of back pain shifts brain representation from nociceptive to emotional circuits. Brain. 2013 Sep;13 (Pt 9):2751-68. doi: 10.1093/brain/awt211. PMID: 23983029; PMCID: PMC3754458.
Kross E, Berman MG, Mischel W, Smith EE, and Wager TD, Social rejection shares somatosensory representations with physical pain, Proc. Natl. Acad.
Sci. U.S.A. 108 (15) 6270-6275, https://doi.org/10.1073/pnas.1102693108 (2011).




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