Trying to Find Relief – When Treatment Makes Things Worse

Because my lower back kept bothering me, I decided to go to a chiropractor. During the intake, he noticed that my pelvis was significantly misaligned, to the point where there was a leg length difference of about two centimeters. That alone was something I hadn’t expected.

Over several sessions, this improved, but what stood out most was how sensitive the muscles in my left leg were. At one point, he applied cupping therapy. I didn’t really know what to expect, but the experience was intense.

Not just physically, but emotionally as well.

The pain was overwhelming, but what struck me more was how familiar it felt. The sensation that the cupping triggered was almost identical to what I experience at night. The same build-up, the same release, the same uncontrollable reaction.

I found myself crying, and it didn’t feel like it was just about the pain. It felt like something deeper was being triggered.

That moment stayed with me. Not because it gave me an answer, but because it made me question whether this is purely physical, or whether there is also a psychological component involved.

After that session, the chiropractor mentioned the book The Body Keeps the Score. I’ve started reading it, and it’s making me look at my symptoms from a different perspective.

At the same time, the practical side hasn’t changed. Toward the end of 2025, things became increasingly difficult. My leg was so active that falling asleep felt almost impossible. I would walk through the house until early morning, sometimes until 6 AM, before eventually falling asleep for a few hours.

The sensation is strongest in the evening and at night, but that might also be because that’s when everything becomes more noticeable. During the day, I’m distracted, but the restlessness is still there. Lately, it feels like my body is constantly “on”, as if I’ve just been running and need to calm down, but never fully do.

Sometimes it feels like a switch is flipped, often just before falling asleep or right after. A sudden rush through my body, like adrenaline, and instantly I’m fully awake again.

Because there is still no clear explanation, I’ve also been searching for something that could provide relief. That’s how I came across Clonidine, a medication used for blood pressure, but also prescribed off-label for restless legs and ADHD.

At first, it seemed promising. It helped me fall asleep, and during the night my leg was calm. But after a few days, things changed. During the day, I became anxious, nauseous, and mentally unstable. Even after lowering the dose, the pattern remained.

When I stopped taking it, the rebound was intense. I felt physically and mentally unwell, almost like my system had been pushed out of balance. It took about two weeks to stabilize again.

That contrast is what makes it difficult. Physically, there was improvement. Mentally, there was a clear decline.

Both Clonidine and Clomipramine affect noradrenaline, which makes me wonder if that could be part of the puzzle.

At the moment, I’m slowly tapering off Clomipramine, about 5 mg every three months. I’ve been taking it for almost twenty years, so this process has to be careful. I’m curious to see how my body reacts once I’m completely off it.

I’ve also tried L-Theanine, which seemed promising at first, but followed a similar pattern. A short-term positive effect, followed by a longer period of instability.

It makes me question whether anything that affects my neurotransmitters might be helping temporarily, but destabilizing me in the long run.

For now, I don’t have a clear answer. But I’m still trying to understand what my body is telling me.