The habit: Overcommitment

Model: Karol Jarzabek/Chosen

THE FIX: CHICAGO STRESS RELIEF CENTER

Every year during the holidays, my condo morphs into a toxic blend of equal parts hotel, made-for-TV movie and college frat party. As the guests file in—and my anxiety level rises—I play the part of happy hostess, making sure the booze flows freely. Then, before bed, I gobble three Advil and pray that the stress-induced knots in my back will feel better in the morning.

This year, as soon as Grandma is back on a plane bound for Pittsburgh, I start searching for an alternative to the over-the-counter fix. My quest leads me to Dr. Howard K. Weissman, a clinical psychologist and founder of the Chicago Stress Relief Center (899 Skokie Blvd, suite 430, Northbrook, 847-412-0922; 920 N Franklin St, suite 402, 312-664-5886), who aims to “calm the chaotic forces that can grip the mind, body and emotions.”

Right away, I book an appointment.

But when I arrive at his downtown office, I realize my dream of serenity—a candlelit room and a deep-tissue massage—is not on the agenda. Weissman practices what’s called the LifeLine Technique, a combination of Western and Chinese medicine that pinpoints and unlocks the emotional patterns that create stress and manifest in physical symptoms. In layman’s terms, he isn’t going to massage my pain away; instead, we’re going to talk it out.

To get things started, Weissman asks me a series of questions. At the same time, he places his hand on top of my outstretched left arm. If my arm goes limp in response to a question, he’s found a portal—a place where my energy is toxic. From there, he tries to understand how that toxic energy affects my body. For me, it’s all about the family stress twisting my lower back muscles into tiny knots.

Over the next two hours, Weissman asks my body dozens of questions—all while testing my arm muscle—and taps into several emotional scenarios, like my parents’ divorce and my own battle with anxiety. According to him, as my arm muscle goes limp, he learns that these emotional situations affect everything from my gall bladder to my sebaceous glands. And to feel better, my energy needed to be cleansed. He also asks several questions related to my back, but each time my arm muscle stays strong, meaning—in his words—stress likely isn’t causing that pain. For patients with stress issues, he recommends routine appointments. For me specifically, he suggests I take chlorella (an algae supplement) and fish oil. Supposedly, these would help my digestion, and aid the gall bladder problems the doc had detected.

When my session ends, I admittedly feel rejuvenated, more in tune than before. My walk to the El is spacey, movie-esque, like I’m the only one on the sidewalk.

But that night, when I climb into bed and nestle under the covers, the nagging pain is back. Thankfully, my husband gives a pretty good massage.— Maureen Ryan

TOTAL COST
$155 for 45 minutes; most sessions last 90 minutes

HABIT-KILLING POWER

THE FIX: CHEAP EASTERN THERAPIES

I’m a stereotypical American worker bee; more often than not I buzz through the week stressed, distracted and relying on workouts at the gym to keep my mood on the level. However, I’ve reached a point where heavy sweating simply isn’t cutting it, so I spent a weekend experimenting with affordable, alternative stress-relievers.

I arrive at acupuncturist Dave Kato’s office (4720 N Lincoln Ave, 773-878-3888, squarenergy.com) sweaty and flustered after a chaotic bike ride. But when he pricks eight needles all over my body—from between my eyes to the top of my foot, a peaceful wave washes over me. I close my eyes and soak up the sensation; I don’t even mind the New Agey background music or the fact that I’m sharing the room with four other patients. Forty minutes pass in a flash while the needles do their thing, and I leave feeling lifted, with my wallet a mere 30 bones lighter.

Twenty-four hours later, I’m barefoot, entering the Bodhi Path Buddhist Center (4043 N Ravenswood Ave, suite 214, 773-251-1245, bodhipath.org/Chicago), a sparsely decorated room in a sprawling building for a free Sunday-afternoon meditation practice. Before our group of five hits the cushions, center organizer Matthew Brown offers basic instructions: Count your breaths from 1 to 20, gaze downward and separate yourself from your thoughts. Moments before we start, I panic. Thirty minutes with nary a distraction? I don’t even watch TV for that long. I quell my nerves with deep breathing when we begin, visualizing the air flowing in and out of my body. I eventually lose track of time, and when the ending bell sounds, I can’t believe more than five minutes have passed.

Afterward, when I join the others at the table to reflect, I feel recharged and remarkably grounded. Within two days, I’m back to my usual frenzied self, but with an optimistic belief that with some determination, change is well within reach.— Jessica Herman

TOTAL COST
Acupuncture: a sliding scale of $20–$40 per session, plus $10 for initial visit

HABIT-KILLING POWER