Since my last post, I have actually implemented two new strategies:
1) Nuance Over Hyperbole
2) Doodling
So far, when I feel a shame spiral coming on, trying to be more precise and nuanced is helping. Instead of letting the abstract (and problematic) concepts of "stupid" and "idiotic" and "incompetent" whirl around and around and around, I start making a list that more accurately describes my mistakes, shortcomings, quirks, etc. I still write down some things that may be a little far-fetched, a little too extreme, but mostly just to note those feelings and move on.
It's amazing how much easier it is to deal with the idea that you are "forgetful" or "frazzled." Why? Those are concrete things...they are not some negative amorphous blob that encompasses everything about me and makes me a worthless human being. In terms of problem solving, they are also concrete things that, if I like, I can address (to whatever degree I am able). In my case, naming those things seems to quell the shame storm.
I also decided, for some reason, that doodling would be good for my anxiety. When I was feeling anxious or bad or had a conflict, I began doodling to take my mind off obsessing...about the issue, what I did wrong, etc. I like this tactic so far. I'm not an artist, so my doodling is very abstract consisting of lines and scribbles and motions my hand likes to make...but it's an outlet.
And so I have been toggling the doodling and the nuancing. If, while doodling, I'd feel a ping of shame, I'd pull out my other sheet of paper and try to think about I was really feeling and name my specific shortcomings (in a given situation). Then I'd put the sheet away and go back to doodling until I felt a ping again.
This did wonders for the anxiety I was feeling. It wasn't completely gone, but much of it was alleviated. It was a great way to overcome the abstract shame thoughts that can feel so overwhelming and certain.
So, well, that's something. I'll keep finessing the nuance.
Monday, January 9, 2012
Sunday, January 1, 2012
On the Importance of Language in Self-Talk__or Busting Your Own Hyperbole
In my last session with my therapist I was in the middle of a beating-myself-up-spiral-of-hell. No bully in my entire life has ever been as good at beating myself up as I am. And once that piece-of-shit feeling washes over me, it's like my psyche is eating itself alive.
I can safely say I have come pretty far in acknowledging this pattern and perhaps also in dealing with it, but it still gets me big time.
My therapist asked me to tell her the things I was thinking (about myself & the situation). After I rattled off some adjectives, she suggested that perhaps a few of them might apply, but others really did not seem accurate.
"So what you're saying is that I just need a broader and more precise vocabulary! I need to be more nuanced!" I said this exasperated and smiling, despite tears still streaming down my face. There were no doubt also hand gestures, given what I'm told about my mannerisms.
Perhaps this blog should be called Nerd in Therapy because that is an exact quote and it starkly depicts my nerdy, academic way of thinking.
But the thing is, it's completely right. "Stupid" or any other range of rather nondescript insults, when I am in a shame spiral, take the place of more nuanced and accurate descriptions of my flaws, mistakes, or quirks. Everything becomes concrete. Since I am not perfect, I'm a disgrace. And I know that's really not true, but it *feels* true, which is part of the problem--that *feeling* of truth is clearly interrupting my analytical capacities. (Not to pit emotion and logic against one another--though sometimes they simply are at odds, and it can go both ways.)
My task, then, is to 1) force myself to be more specific and 2) to be honest about which things actually define who I am, which are tendencies, and which are more transient.
Fabulous therapist also asked me to take note of the negative things I was thinking, and I actually kind of turned that into a hilarious game called "Cataloging the Ridiculousness of Your Self-Loathing Self-Talk." Now, the exercise was quite disturbing, mind you, since it really hit home the depths of my self-loathing, but I got to the point where I was saying to myself, "Oh my gosh, are you serious?"--clearly a healthier kind of self-dialogue. As you will know if you have read this blog a bit, one way I finesse the fuck you is by finding humor (and emotional exit) in my own ridiculousness. It's a tactic I find quite useful. And it's an emotional coping tactic as much as if not more than a logical one. It's seeing your own hyperbole, which means you've managed to see yourself from a distance. And rather than shame, the feeling I get is hilarity and release; the action: laughter.
And perhaps that's my favorite thing about my therapist and my relationship with her: she finesses hyperbole busting (a form of finessing the fuck you) like nobody's business.
I can safely say I have come pretty far in acknowledging this pattern and perhaps also in dealing with it, but it still gets me big time.
My therapist asked me to tell her the things I was thinking (about myself & the situation). After I rattled off some adjectives, she suggested that perhaps a few of them might apply, but others really did not seem accurate.
"So what you're saying is that I just need a broader and more precise vocabulary! I need to be more nuanced!" I said this exasperated and smiling, despite tears still streaming down my face. There were no doubt also hand gestures, given what I'm told about my mannerisms.
Perhaps this blog should be called Nerd in Therapy because that is an exact quote and it starkly depicts my nerdy, academic way of thinking.
But the thing is, it's completely right. "Stupid" or any other range of rather nondescript insults, when I am in a shame spiral, take the place of more nuanced and accurate descriptions of my flaws, mistakes, or quirks. Everything becomes concrete. Since I am not perfect, I'm a disgrace. And I know that's really not true, but it *feels* true, which is part of the problem--that *feeling* of truth is clearly interrupting my analytical capacities. (Not to pit emotion and logic against one another--though sometimes they simply are at odds, and it can go both ways.)
My task, then, is to 1) force myself to be more specific and 2) to be honest about which things actually define who I am, which are tendencies, and which are more transient.
Fabulous therapist also asked me to take note of the negative things I was thinking, and I actually kind of turned that into a hilarious game called "Cataloging the Ridiculousness of Your Self-Loathing Self-Talk." Now, the exercise was quite disturbing, mind you, since it really hit home the depths of my self-loathing, but I got to the point where I was saying to myself, "Oh my gosh, are you serious?"--clearly a healthier kind of self-dialogue. As you will know if you have read this blog a bit, one way I finesse the fuck you is by finding humor (and emotional exit) in my own ridiculousness. It's a tactic I find quite useful. And it's an emotional coping tactic as much as if not more than a logical one. It's seeing your own hyperbole, which means you've managed to see yourself from a distance. And rather than shame, the feeling I get is hilarity and release; the action: laughter.
And perhaps that's my favorite thing about my therapist and my relationship with her: she finesses hyperbole busting (a form of finessing the fuck you) like nobody's business.
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