Honestly, even the title of this is starting off on the wrong foot. I don't know exactly what makes me think this way. But anything I associate with myself, nearly every single thing that I associate with myself, I automatically label as wrong. Or bad. The thought patterns are so well worn that it has become first nature. It is my norm, my go-to. I am actively trying to reverse this pattern of thinking, but I am finding this to be an incredibly difficult task, so difficult that I feel like I haven't made any progress whatsoever.
But writing this down is progress. As difficult as this weekend has been, I would consider the block of time that has passed over the last two days as progress. Sometimes progress is a slow back and forth. It's a "I feel fine one minute and terrible the next." Sometimes it's just a recognition of your humanity and a little bit of grace and patience with your own self.
Yesterday, I found myself fixating on a thought. A negative thought that brought a rush of bad feelings with it. I kept replaying this thought in my head over and over and over again. And then I would immediately invalidate the bad feelings that came with it, immediately berate myself for the way I was thinking and feeling, immediately compare myself to any other person I could who was more graceful, more diplomatic, more calm, more not like me. This would trigger my typical panic attack of: you are not good enough, you are not worthy of love and friendship, you are a drain and a burden on everyone who knows you. And this would play out again and again and again.
I started the day with a book, Notes from Your Therapist by Allyson Dinneen. I read the book in one sitting and clung to certain words from it. One in particular that resonated strongly with the moment I find myself in was: "there are some things I will never be over." For some reason, this comforted me. Because the thought I had yesterday that kept playing on repeat was from a really old wound. One that I want to recover from and heal from and move on from... and so when I'm having that thought, the reason I berate myself sometimes is that I think I should be "over" it. After all this time, I should be recovered and healed. But honestly, who says there's a statute of limitations on pain? Who says there's an allotted amount of time that you can be impacted and then it should be over?
For me, it's human connection that jerks me back from the brink. When I realize that I am not the only one who feels a certain way, when I realize that I am not the only one who is awkward and trying to heal...that's when I feel better. Some might call this being outwardly defined. Some might say that I should find my worth and value from within. And I would agree that loving myself is the most important part of my journey. It's the one goal that I work on every single day and fail at every single day but keep going with because I know it's value and worth. But also, self-love is about having the grace with myself to say: this is not just you. And when someone says something or writes something that reminds me of that, that helps me. It is a coping mechanism, and I need to remember that when I just want to hide and retreat and pull away from people because I am so desperately afraid they are going to pull away from me first. I must remember that I need some kind of connection to help me remember that I am not innately bad or wrong.
About halfway through the day yesterday, I found that I could stop the thought that I was fixating on from happening part of the time. When I felt its tendrils begin to reach at the edges of my consciousness, I could stop it by quickly replacing it with another thought or distraction. This felt like power. Anxiety sometimes feels so completely uncontrollable. It strips away everything about who you are and leaves you as vulnerable and bare as possible. It grabs hold of you so quickly that it literally leaves you breathless. The powerlessness that often comes with anxiety is honestly one of the scariest things about it, because you can't predict its timing, you can't plan for its attack. It's just suddenly there, and you are at its mercy.
And so when I was able to stop myself from that ugly thought yesterday, I felt some brief moments of power. And this is progress.
I woke up this morning and read another book. Untamed by Glennon Doyle. This one I didn't finish in one sitting (it's a bit longer), but I let myself be present with the words, and I let myself feel how it was impacting me. Through reading, I felt connection. I felt again that impactful: this is not just you.
When Jeremy woke up this morning, I told him about yesterday's thought. I told him that it was still trying to infiltrate my day today. I told him about the shame it brought and the fact that I thought I should be over it. I cried and told him everything. I felt connection again and that helped.
And this is progress. Identifying what helps in the midst of it all, embracing what helps in the midst of it all. This is progress. Writing all of this down. This is progress.
Today, I am going to continue to try to read, write, and replace thoughts (even if it has to be through distraction). I am going to try to be okay with how I cope and who I am. But I am also going to be okay when the thought inevitably comes back or another negative thought replaces it. Because there's power to be had there, too.
(And for good measure, I'm going to add to my title.)
