The Bleeding Hearts and violets are in full bloom, with the Columbine about to burst into flower. The Hostas and Daylilies are leafing out along with the ferns and iris.Two cases of Pseudotsuga menziesii
Krista Heron, N.D., DHANP
I have enjoyed following and learning from two cases of Pseudotsuga over the last few years. This remedy is of particular interest to me because the tree is a native of the Pacific Northwest and, having grown up in this region with a father who was a forester, I have always felt a kinship with it. The principle characteristics that we find in this tree of isolation, dissociation, and internal emptiness are shared by the other conifers but what I found particularly striking was the bleak loneliness and longing for connection that seems specific to Pseudotsuga menziesii.
I first saw Heather in November of 1994. She was 26 and working as a marketing coordinator. Her main complaints were depression, bulimia and constipation. She had been taking a laxative for the past 5 years. I initially gave her Natrum carbonicum, Aurum, Alumina and Stramonium with some minor improvement but nothing deeply curative or lasting.
She had been in therapy for the last three years struggling with issues of victimization partly as a result of her father having incested her from age 4 to 14. “It’s like a big dark hand trying to pull me down. I got the raw end of the deal; some people get support from their family from the very beginning — I never did. I drink a lot and have been addicted to cocaine. It is hard on my body and spirit. I was never understood by my family, so I set myself off from them and others. I don’t know what I want to do, I missed my chance. My family held me back so much. There was no one there. I felt lost, invisible.”
From the very beginning we see the Pseudotsuga paradigm unfolding. She feels her family was unsupportive and she blames them and feels bitter. Her response is to separate and dissociate from them. I’ve found that this is common to Pseudotsuga; they feel neglected and uncared for so they create a wall of bitterness to compensate.
“Now life feels empty, I don’t have a connection to a higher power. I am a floating entity in an abyss; where do I go? Where do I go to meet a nice guy? Who do I trust? I always have this big wall, a hard edge. I’m trying to be softer”.
She feels lost and experiences this both emotionally and spiritually. Her feeling of emptiness causes her to long for a connection but instead she finds herself behind a wall. This is another trait of this remedy and the other conifers. They have hardness about them. This wall Heather describes, and wishes was softer, has kept her separate, not only from real intimacy, but even from herself.
David Warkentin has suggested that the inner emptiness and wall which appears to be common to all conifers is mirrored by the large core of dead wood in the center of the tree juxtaposed with the thin layer of live cells of the bark. He has described how Juniper feels their inner space is dead, that Taxus, Abies canadensis and A. nigra feel this great emptiness in their stomachs and that Thuja imagines their emptiness to be filled with an imaginary pregnancy. This emptiness that Heather feels is what drives her to search for some relief from her suffering.
Heather talks about being in an abyss and as a child she had dreams of falling into a bottomless pit. Then she tells us that it is as if she is floating; not floating in a dreamy way but as if suspended in darkness, a nightmarish sensation of utter aloneness.
“I have nothing, no one to give to; no one will notice if I am here or not. It feels very dark, I don’t belong anywhere. I feel alone, lost, like it is black all around. I don’t know how to put it back right, I am making poor choices, I don’t know where I belong, I don’t fit in. I am without an anchor. I am a misfit. I am roaming around lost."
These references to Spirit and the abyss remind me of the growth pattern of this tree. They grow hundreds of feet tall yet have a very shallow root system. The vertical nature of the tree is reflected in this case with her sense of falling and a dark hand pulling her down, her longing for a connection to a higher power and feeling bereft of an anchor. Because of the shallow roots this tree easily falls in high winds and due to severe rain erosion.
"I can’t make decisions, I don’t know what I want. I break plans, I have no backbone. I question everything. If someone offers another option I reconsider. I don’t know who I am. I don’t have a boyfriend or partner to share with; I am missing that major link, I am missing a bond. I wonder what’s wrong with me. I just want the connection. I don’t seem to be attracting it. What is deficient? What can I change? Probably it would help if I could be more decisive. I feel like I live in a shell. I feel like I am defective and I just want to run away. No one wants me and I feel so unworthy. I don’t know how to bond, communicate or create intimacy. I don’t think I am good at getting close to people. I close off. I am so afraid of being rejected; I’m afraid to try because I am not as good as anyone else. I have so much instability in my life. I am trying to learn. I feel worthless and insignificant, like I’ll crumble.”
Massimo Mangialavori tells us that another trait of the conifer remedies is that they are self-centered; focusing on themselves. With their narcissism they can feel quite insecure because of their mistakes and weakness. Heather really only tells us about herself; everything is from this self-focused perspective. Certainly most of our patients' stories are about themselves but usually not to the exclusion of others. Yet that is what this story is about — that she is alone. She is a lone tree in a forest. She feels defective and unworthy, that something is deeply wrong with her. My impression is that this remedy shows more of themselves than some of the other conifers; they feel the same shame but are not as hidden or deceptive.
“I feel lonely, I just don’t have a connection. I feel really alone. Maybe I need to seek a spiritual connection; I feel cut off. I don’t know what I believe in; is it all real anyway? I’m seeking comfort; something deep inside needs to be comforted. I feel alone. It feels dark, gray, dismal and lifeless. I feel like a cloudy day in Seattle; dreary where the charcoal gray clouds touch the gray water. No one is there. Friends have let me down. I count on them and they don’t follow through.”
In June of 1996 I heard Steve Olsen’s proving of Pseudotsuga menziesii, the Douglas Fir. I was struck by the similarities between this remedy and the other conifers I was familiar with; particularly the digestive symptoms of Abies canadensis and Thuja’s feelings of shame. The emotional state described by Dr. Olsen seemed similar to what Heather had been describing. I prescribed the remedy in a 30c for her.
At the end of September 1996 Heather reports “This is a great remedy, my stomach is great and I am really well and happy. I am finding out that I am not my things; everything I have is here inside me. I feel more balanced. This remedy agrees with me. My energy is good and I am eating decently. I have a greater sense of well being. I am weeding out my friends, getting rid of people who aren’t worth my time”. Her constipation is much improved, as is the bulimic behavior. She is no longer drinking and is in Alcoholics Anonymous.
One year after the remedy Heather married. Now, three years later, her constipation and stomachaches are rare and her bulimia is no longer a problem. She feels a greater peace and confidence in herself. Her physical symptoms continue to respond to the remedy and she continues to heal more deeply emotionally and spiritually with each dose.
Heather has had single doses of Pseudotsuga menziesii 30c 9/96, 4/97, 9/97, 4/98 and 200c 6/98, 11/98 and 4 /99.
The second case of Pseudotsuga was Sarah, born in 1955, whom I have been seeing since October of 1996. Her main complaints have been bulimia, constipation and amenorrhea. Under another physician’s care she experienced relief from various minor complaints and feeling a greater sense of well being from Natrum muriaticum. However her eating disorder and constipation persisted and she had been amenorrheic since February of 1996.
In January 1997 Sarah told me “I binged while I was visiting my parents in Montana. I was home alone and decided to act out, it was a game. The whole point was that it was a secret. I break the rules and eat for the sake of eating. I feel an unbearable emotional pressure and eating displaces that pressure. It’s like a pit in my stomach. It’s a feeling of being alone and detached in the universe. It’s like a hydrogen balloon...it’s fear...I don’t think I can endure the feeling it’s so unbearable. I feel I have to bear it myself because I forget there is help available. I have to do it myself; I comfort myself with a plan to eat. I feel a fire in my abdomen, a cave, and darkness. It’s a fear that I’ve done something wrong, that someone has something I don’t have and I should have it too, if only I was doing my life right. That creates this pressure. It’s a kind of self-pity. I feel I have no resources. I am very judgmental towards others and very hard on myself. I feel a sense of isolation from others and from the universe. I have this image that my soul is an anchor, yet I don’t feel connected, I need to trust.”
I gave her Pseudotsuga 30 as a single dose and she came back 6 weeks later. She said, “I’m like a new person which is really just my old self. I’m having a bowel movement 2 times a day now, whereas before it was once a week. I am living in my body more than ever. I haven’t binged and am eating 3 meals a day. Before I felt isolated, now I feel a sense of community.”
I saw her again in 6 weeks and she had one episode of bingeing for a week while visiting her parents. However there was still no relapse in her constipation. I waited. Another 6 weeks passed with the same story of another binge and still no reoccurrence of the constipation or feelings of isolation. Her menses continued to be absent however. I had just obtained the remedy in a 200 potency in June of 1998, so I gave it to her. She called 2 weeks later to tell me her menses had returned after 2 1/2 years. She has continued to do well in all her complaints of constipation, bulimia, and her sense of isolation. She is having monthly menstrual periods as well. She had a second dose of Pseudotsuga 200c 11/98.
Steve Olsen describes Pseudotsuga menziesii as being similar to Aurum and Natrum muriaticum. He makes the distinction that the Aurum patient is much more of a perfectionist while Natrum muriaticum is less expressive emotionally. I saw elements of each of these remedies in these cases, but when they were prescribed they were not similar enough to the patients to affect them in a long-lasting or curative way. What was most significant to me was that each of these women longed for a deeper connection in their emotional and spiritual lives and experienced an extraordinary sense of isolation. The desire for a perfect type of intimacy that seems to characterize the Pseudotsuga patient was the core issue that I saw in Heather and Sarah.
Heather felt this disconnection in her life all the while yearning for something deeply comforting and intimate. I saw this same sense of disconnection in Sarah’s case. They described this state as being detached or isolated from others and the universe, lost in a tunnel or floating in an abyss; without an anchor. They described their internal feeling as being like a cave or someplace dark or black. And they both felt cut-off and without resources; missing a bond or a sense of belonging that would provide them with comfort. Each of these women sought solace and nurturance in food as a replacement for this emptiness in their relational lives. They also both experienced a kind of stasis physically with their constipation and amenorrhea.
The stark isolation of this remedy reminds me of the Douglas fir forests in the Pacific Northwest. These are evergreen forests that are virtual deserts. There are very few animals or other species of plants in these forests. It is this atmosphere that creates a feeling of loneliness; the trunks standing straight with only the upper limbs touching, the canopy above creating a dark and somber environment below. No creatures stirring, just the somber silence of grayed light. I believe this image is similar to how these patients feel cut-off. They find themselves completely alone, a lone tree in a world that is devoid of others.
In the deciduous forest every part of the tree is used for food or shelter by some creature, but in the conifer forest few parts of the tree are edible. This forest is disconnected from other animals and plants and finds itself rather solitary specie. The loneliness and separation can be seen in this state. Even the hardness of the patients; their closed or walled off nature can be seen in the woodiness of this tree. Every part of the conifer moves towards this woodiness - even the tiniest sprouts are already too fibrous for most creatures to eat.
The remedy's physical complaints of stasis, such as constipation and amenorrhea and their bulimia can be seen as the two poles of flow and stasis. This tree has a voracious appetite drawing huge quantities of water and nutrients up its trunk. It seems the other conifer remedies have this same appetite. We see in Abies canadensis and Abies nigra, two trees that also live in the Pacific Northwest, this same ravenous hunger. They speak of their stomach or abdomen as if it is their center; a reference point that reflects their inner emotional experience. Perhaps when this flow of liquids cannot move we find the constipation and suppressed menses common to this remedy.
The great height of the trees may explain why there is such a spiritual longing in this remedy. They long to fill themselves with Spirit or make a spiritual connection as a means to fill that inner emptiness they feel. These trees are coveted by the forestry industry because they grow tall and straight with few branches or knots. This linear direction or intention reflects not only the spiritual longing but also their fall into the depths of their depression. Nearly all of the old groves have been eliminated, and again this may explain the bitterness or betrayal this remedy feels. First they have been isolated and then systematically decimated, with few friends to protect them.
Published in LINKS, Summer 1999
