How To Stop A Neck Tic

Key Takeaways:

• Gently lean into urge to tic; find "edge" area where tension accumulates
• Breathe deeply into neck instead of tensing against sensations 
• Befriending discomfort this way eases intensity over time

For over 20 years, I've had an uncontrollable neck tic that has caused me great distress. Out of the blue, my neck starts violently jerking over and over, like I'm uncontrollably headbanging at a rock concert. It's distracting, painful, and isolating. I've tried desperately to stop it or hide it out of embarrassment, but these neck tics have a force of their own. 

Like many with Tourette's syndrome, I used to berate myself for these tics, as if I could willpower them away through frustration alone. But of course that only heightens the tension driving these impulses. I'm now learning the power of cultivating compassionate awareness of the tics rather than judging them. 

One mindfulness exercise that has been profoundly healing is to lean gently into the urge to tic, rather than reflexively reacting. When I feel my neck tensing up, instead of tensing against it, I move slowly into the position where I would normally jerk my neck. I find the "edge" where the tic impulse arises. 

Holding this position, I take deep breaths from my belly, relaxing my shoulders and softening my neck as I breathe. I lean into the ticklish urge mindfully rather than forcefully reacting. My aim is to meet the urge to tic with gentle curiosity and presence, rather than aversion. 

Rather than fighting against my body, I'm learning to make friends with these uncomfortable impulses. By breathing into that ticklish "edge" with relaxation and self-compassion, the urge to tic softens. There's a newfound sense of spaciousness around the tension. And the more I practice meeting the tic with mindfulness, the less intense the urge becomes over time. 

Do I still frequently tic throughout the day? Absolutely. But by mindfully discharging the pent-up energy driving each neck jerk, rather than reflexively reacting, there's much less pain and distress surrounding this longtime habit. I'm no longer at war with myself.

Through simple practices of presence, I'm rediscovering tranquility within my own body - a feeling of homecoming after decades spent lost in judgment and struggle. Ticcing may always be part of me, but it no longer has to control my life. Each mindful breath within the urge to tic brings me closer to lasting peace.