Lihi Lisser
One of the most meaningful turning points in my recovery from an anal fissure was a single session I had with Lihi Lisser, a psychotherapist specializing in chronic pain.
By the time I reached out to her, I had spent nearly six months feeling like I was at war with my own body. I had tried countless conventional and conservative treatments, seen multiple healthcare professionals, and followed almost every recommendation I was given. Yet the pain kept coming back. Eventually, I felt like I had exhausted every option available to me, and I knew I didn't want to rush into surgery before understanding whether there might be another path.
When the fissure first appeared, I gave up many parts of my life. I stopped running, even though it had been a regular part of my routine, both outdoors and at the gym. During the more painful periods-especially throughout the war-my symptoms became significantly worse. There were days when I stayed in bed because the pain was so intense that I could barely function. I also used almost all of my accumulated vacation days at work-about three weeks-simply to cope with the pain.Every small symptom triggered fear.
I was afraid the pain would completely take over, so when planning the first part of our trip, the main factor in choosing where to stay was whether the room had a bathtub.I packed laxatives, painkillers, ointments, and every medication I thought I might need.But once we crossed the border into Egypt, I hardly used any of it. We traveled, hiked, moved from place to place, and the fissure barely affected my life.That was an incredibly powerful moment for me.I realized that recovery doesn't necessarily mean never having another symptom again.It means getting your life back without pain running your life.
During my session with Lihi, we began unpacking the pain cycle. I learned how real physical pain can become amplified when the nervous system remains in a prolonged state of stress, fear, and perceived danger. We also talked about how the way I related to my pain-my fear of it and the story I kept telling myself about it-was constantly feeding that cycle. Many of the insights I gained didn't come overnight. They gradually took shape through our conversation, through the books and resources Lihi recommended, and through simple metaphors that completely changed the way I understood my body. One example that has stayed with me was the story of soldiers who are injured in battle but don't always feel pain immediately because, in moments of danger, the brain prioritizes survival. Only once the threat has passed does the pain become noticeable.That story completely changed the way I understood my own symptoms.
Another meaningful part of our session was something no one had really asked me before.I nstead of simply accepting that "this is your condition now," Lihi became genuinely curious about what had been happening in my life around the time the pain first appeared. What had my body been carrying?What kind of stress had I been under?What was happening in my life?Simply asking "Why now?" gave me a completely different perspective.Not because we were trying to blame emotions for everything.And not because we were looking for someone to blame.But because our bodies never exist in a vacuum.Pain always has a context.
Gradually, my inner dialogue changed. Instead of: "I'm broken.""I have to fight this. "It became: "This hurts, but I'm not in danger. "Recovery wasn't immediate. And it certainly wasn't perfect. There were setbacks. Good days. Bad days. But something fundamental shifted. Less fear. Less fighting my body. More curiosity. More self-compassion.
Today, I feel more connected to myself than ever before. I also want to say something important. Chronic pain therapy was never something I would have considered on my own. No physician suggested it. No healthcare professional mentioned it. Even in online communities for people living with anal fissures, this perspective rarely came up. And when it did, it often met with skepticism. I understand why. When you're in real physical pain, the last thing you want to hear is that your nervous system, fear, or stress might also be playing a role. It can easily sound like someone is saying, "It's all in your head."But that isn't what this approach means at all. What saddens me is knowing that so many people continue to suffer without ever being exposed to this perspective. Not because it doesn't exist. But because it's still unfamiliar, less accessible, and too often explained without the sensitivity it deserves.
