MY first boss despised us.

I was 16 and applied to be a busboy/dishwasher at a restaurant. The manager thought I was an irresponsible punk. To be fair to him, I had zero work experience. Furthermore, he didn't like any of us teens. We were all worthless in his mind.

If you think about it, this was an opportunity to mold me and the others. We could be shaped as leaders and mentored to excel. Instead, we were scolded and crushed flat. I have used this example before, but when a toddler touches a hot stove and gets burned they never do it again. Kids learn quickly. I was already developing this shame monster as a youth, so my first boss slipped right in there and burned me. I am not a worthwhile employee.

Thus, my first job shaped those to come. Being smothered by peer pressure at school and quashed at work left me with two options. I could believe that I am worthless because it seems this adult believes that. Or, I could protect my ego and get angry with the boss, the job, with work. Back then, I wasn't as black and white with my thinking. So, I chose to do both. I am a worthless employee. Also work did that to me so I want distance myself from it, or get angry at the job. Admittedly, with the way that most people are treated in entry-level jobs some of the anger may have been justified.

As I continued working in my youth each job was an opportunity to prove those employers (and my shame) that I did have worth. I volunteered for the extra shifts. I learned what was required to get better positions. I moved into key holder positions, manager positions and at nearly every establishment I burned out. It was never enough for that shame I carried. All those failures only enforced my self-loathing.

When I returned to university I was excited. I felt I was finally building a career. After a lot of freelance gigs and scrambling once I graduated, I finally found a home. I had a job where I was an equal, respected, and my colleagues supported me. This is how I look back on it, which is out of character. Those close to me at the time note that it wasn't so rose-colored. I was carrying a lot of stress. I may have enjoyed my new found work family, but the job did come with anxiety.

Leaving the job was not easy, but now that my life was more in balance I met someone. That relationship led me to move from my home to another country and I was no longer able to keep my job. Coming to a new country meant paperwork and more paperwork. All that bureaucracy takes time and I was unable to work in my new home. I managed to do some freelance work for my old company. However, I had a lot of time to over think.

My career was likely a fluke. Shame was back and stronger than ever. I was worthless. Somehow I had gotten lucky and that was now over. After getting residency, I had some interviews. Unfortunately, I didn't really have a network in my new home. I didn't have that inside track that other candidates may have had. Hopping from job to job in my youth lasted longer than my career, so it must be my truth. Now, I had a partner on top of a family to disappoint. Broken, jobless man is not something we value in society and media. I breathed these shameful thoughts minute by minute. I broke down. I wanted to die.

Therapy and medication versus 40+ years of shame is not a fair fight. It is a process that I will continue the rest of my life. Working through past trauma is not easy. I am not enough is the over arching theme and it can also color my recovery. I am not good enough at therapy to deserve to be healed. I have recognized that a great deal of my self-worth has been tied into my job/career. I don't want to be social if I have to say I am unemployed. In the West, that is all we talk about, our jobs that we do 40+ hours a week and the weather. My self-worth is based on internalized capitalism, always be producing. For you older folks this is the Protestant work ethic, doing anything but work is a sin.

Here I am with my toolbox of therapies attempting to parry every strike from my core belief that I am worthless. It is a 24/7 job. When I see opportunities to re-enter my career, I am terrified more than ever. I look back and see the connection between my self-worth and work. Surprisingly I see my progress from breakdown 'til now. Will a new full-time contract be different or will I repeat the pattern?

From the perspective of our capitalist society one must be employed. Those basic needs of food, shelter, water, and clothing are not guaranteed. Regardless of my health, I must work. While we may have made some progress with the stigma of mental health, it remains difficult for many to recognize how debilitating invasive thoughts are. Sometimes a serious physical accident can have severe consequences and we do not expect the survivor to return to work. However, someone with depression just needs to cheer up and get back to work. Anxiety? Relax and focus on the job.

I have been in a new part-time position for a month facing the fear of failure, the fear of repeating my pattern. I have received support from the new colleagues, but I cannot shake the need to prove myself. The imposter syndrome is thrumming in the background of every meeting. I will never do enough to impress my employer. Those close to me are waiting for the shoe to drop and to watch me disappoint once again.

In the moment, I can use my strategies and see some pride in what I am doing. I can know I am making a difference. Unfortunately, those positive feelings can be used against me by those damaging thoughts of worthlessness. I am overcompensating, being cocky, or completely ignorant of how easy my job would be performed by someone more talented.

That overwhelming fear that I will repeat the pattern of burning out while I try to prove my worth to those around me is so real that I can taste it in the air. Walls that I was easing down in therapy are quickly rising back up.

Of course, it is me who I am trying to prove myself to. It's not the fault of those around me. And, I wouldn't have known if I was ready to return to work unless I actually tried. Then, there's the thought from above that this is a journey. My healing will happen throughout what is left of my life. Would I ever be able to work absolutely free of the self-loathing? Perhaps, not. Does this fall under the 'it is what it is' category? Maybe I will never be ready to balance a career and my mental health. I don't know. If I did, well I wouldn't be having these thoughts, I guess. Anyway, time for bed. I have to work tomorrow.

My mind pulses far quicker than my heart.

We all want to be heard. I often wonder if I am saying things that people will understand. The fear of failure and shame that I carry in my mind are absolute. As if they were materialized limbs attached to my body.

Additionally, I often feel like a chameleon. When the anxiety is overpowering I attempt to ignore it. I push a door shut and camp out in the logic side of my brain. To interact in the world around me I mimic my way through. Since I have been doing this since junior high, I have learned to say the right things.

Coincidentally, I feel as if people are only telling me what I need to hear. Patronizing me because I am a burden in their lives. For many years, I never spoke of my suicidal thoughts it felt like manipulation. As if I was saying I wanted to kill myself for some attention. Of course, the fear that people will think I am seeking attention, that they are patronizing me, it is all my shamevision(tm).

From there, things get convoluted. Therapists and doctors compliment my ability to notice the shame. It is a first step to making changes. It is also an ouroboros, the serpent eating its own tale. Changes in my thoughts happen too slow and then I have shame about still having shame. I have to remind myself that the shame is the evolution of self-protection. The voice of shame is my overzealous and distorted safety mechanism. I am afraid to be less than perfect. 'Don't try and you cannot fail,' stopped working for a younger version of me and so I started berating myself. I have to double-down on my efforts to recognize the shame for what it is. The ability to focus and perform other tasks is minimized. My job becomes dancing through all these pitfalls and I cannot function in a social or work setting at the same time. I must shutdown. I become the chameleon.

I think I am safe. I say what I think you want to hear. However, I know I am doing it. I know I am pushing aside emotions that have tried to get my attention for years. I feel as if I am deceiving others. The shame latches onto these thoughts and feelings. I am back at the beginning. I am starting all over. I do not collect $200.

#shame #suicide #depression

With anxiety, an opportunity is not good fortune. An opening or chance at something is blood to the shark that is anxiety. Imagine the famous Jaws theme had the words, "What if..what if..what if..what if.what if.what if..."

Challenging The Narrative

I continue to nurture self-love. Finding joy in who I am verses what I have accomplished is an hourly challenge. Art has helped me cultivate these new and foreign feelings toward myself. The pieces I create come from the enjoyment of the process. The final artwork is a manifestation of the emotions I felt during the creative process. I was essentially in the moment. Me. The person I am was there.

I struggle constantly to keep that performative part of me obsessed with accomplishments at bay. What if I could sell my art? How can I make art that will sell? The people pleaser inside of me wants to go out there and sell hand painted, watercolor cards and worry stones that I have carved and polished. What if nobody is interested? Fear is triggered in these curious thoughts.

On one hand, selling art could be one of those mythical "do what you love" things. On the other hand, will I enjoy the process of being in the moment if I am trying to fill orders or making the same thing over and over again because it sells? See, I don't believe people will buy things that I create for me because I have spent 40+ years not loving me and the things I 'accomplish.'

Some of the people I absolutely respect, like Daniel J. Hogan, Adriean Koleric, or even Jessica Abel somehow manage to create amazing works of art and keep a day job. They pursue their passions and pay the bills. However, I am terrified of this idea. I had big ideas before my breakdown. While I was working I was going to make a number of video projects. I never did. I focused on my career and accomplishments. I worked plenty of nights. When I wasn't working, I was too exhausted to do much of anything.

I suppose that was a different me. That version of Chris was unaware of the all the pain I have suffered since. Yet, there is a pattern in my past equating my self-worth to what I am doing, not who I am. The fear that nobody would be interested in buying my artwork is rooted in this sense of accomplishment. I personally benefited from the process of creating the pieces already. Why should I care that they are piled up here in the corner and not selling? Unless, I am afraid that they will be rejected.

I've written it before, but people at parties and social gatherings never ask you what your passions are. We always start new interactions with "What do you do for a living?" Even when I had a career, I was intimidated by that question. Call it imposter syndrome, insecurity or whatever. In fact, I think those closest to me would say I still have a career as a writer now. My "even when I had a career" comment was another jab at myself.

My self-worth has always been tied to my accomplishments. The personal bar, or goal for myself was always unattainable. Somehow in my recovery, I have found art as a small thing that I can do and not mentally abuse myself. Sometimes I try to explain it away, "Maybe I like watercolor painting because I cannot fully control the water and have to accept it for what it is." Of course, I have learned a lot in the last few years and that theory doesn't hold a lot of water, pun intended. I've gotten better at my craft. Moreover, many people can do excellent photorealistic work in watercolor. My friend Heather L Gilbraith's Bouguereau Women or the work of a new acquaintance Larry Kapitzke are fantastic examples. Creating art from within myself is not an accomplishment. It just is.

Reality

"Money makes the world go 'round." Could I work a job, slinging packages on a delivery truck, being a cashier, or making license plates and pursue my passion? Not a full-on career, but a means for living as I create art on my time? I've asked the question of myself before. I want to say 'yes.' I feel like I should say 'yes,' because what kind of pretentious ass am I if I say, 'no.' What would people think of me. What would my family think of me.

Could I combine my passion and making money? Perhaps commissions, gallery shows, teaching what I do? Well, I feel like I wrestled with this thought above. I don't know that I can enjoy the process if the goal is a product at the end. Again, it sounds pretentious, privileged. I would guess it is fear talking. I am afraid of failing. Could the venture ruin art as a potential recovery tool?

Reality is that money pays the bills, not my mental health. This is where the past Chris would bottle all this horse shit of emotion and thought up and tuck it deep within. I would use all these words as exhibits of what a loser I am in the court of Chris. Your honor, each and every person around us goes to work, pays their bills and lives in this system. Some, even find time to pursue things outside of work. Clearly, the problem is within us.

While that critical voice has caused me so much suffering, the truth is that its role is to protect me. the criticism is a very overprotective agent trying to save me from myself. In this case, is the voice is attempting to save me from harming a my relationship with art as a recovery tool? Or is the voice trying to stop me from taking on too much too fast? Is the voice completely misguided or only somewhat overprotective?

Opportunity Mocks

I am privileged to even debate these things. That is a factual thought that promotes that familiar guilt and shame within me. I suppose that may have contributed to me stepping away from writing this for a day or two. I wanted to collect and process my thoughts because there is a job opportunity on the horizon. I was moments away from physically shuddering after writing about reality above. I felt tears nestled behind my eyes, ready to leap forward.

I am terrified. I fear letting down those around me. the ones who continue to support me and those that say they see my improvement. I am scared of potential co-workers and employers being disappointed in me. I dread the day that I have to tell my partner that I couldn't do it. I quit. I failed. It's all there, in my head, that part of me who knows I am not enough. These thoughts are the manifestation of that core belief. Most of my days are spent in anxiety waiting for others to realize what I know.

Here I sit with these thoughts because I applied for a full time job and have an interview scheduled. In my recovery journey I have learned the importance of mindfulness and being in the moment. Ruminating about the past is a way to trap ourselves into wishing things were different. Wishes and time travel are not possible and thus the exercise fuels pain. All the Jawstheme 'what-ifs' are related to the endless number of futures that are possible. Being in the present is a super power.

Right now, I am frightened. That fear is based in my history of perceived failure. It is fueled by the potential ways I will screw up in the future. Anxiety assumes every decision is world ending. Starvation, divorce, homelessness and catastrophe are one decision away. Are you sure you want to go to sleep now? There's more you can do.

Reality and anxiety are not friends. Does the planet get vaporized by a black hole if I screw up my interview? Will a deity rain destruction on humankind if I am offered the job and refuse? Could a plague decimate all life on Earth if I accept the job and decide a few months later that I do not want it? I would be disappointed in myself by any of those personal outcomes, but I think the galaxy would be fine. Perhaps those outlandish results are wishful thoughts. The idea of the world ending coincidentally with a personal failure means I do not have to sit with my pain and disappointment. Hmm.

I do not know how to handle the pain of failure, disappointment and self-criticism. Unfortunately, I will never learn if I do not try. If I stay suspended in fear, frozen in indecision I remain unable to cope and tortured by 'what ifs.'

helpless neurons

Sustainability often comes up in economics, but rarely comes up as a topic in general discussions of mental health. Some think talking about relapse will do harm. It is also triggering to caretakers, friends, and family to see someone in pain, so we avoid anything that is not progress. However, the goal for those of us who are neural diverse is finding balance not a cure.

When we talk about normalizing mental wellness these days people often compare things like anxiety and depression to broken limbs-- you would take some time off work and seek medical attention if you broke your leg, you should be able to do the same for mental health. Unfortunately, some injuries can be more serious than others. The leg may not return to its previous usability. This is always the case for mental wellness. Trauma alters our brains. While someone with an injured leg may have to rely on a cane after physical trauma, we may require continued therapy, medication, meditation, or other supports.

Pain is debilitating. A friend with a back pain has good days and bad days. On those bad days they have difficulty focusing and feel like they are better off resting than making things worse. Psychological pain is no different from this physical pain. There are good days and bad days. One difference between physical pain and psychological pain is that we can often notice when others are in physical pain. Those of us dealing with mental health issues have pain that is not visible to the naked eye.

It is common for people that are neural diverse to isolate when they are in pain. My depression relentlessly attacks me with thoughts and feelings that I am a burden to others. Therefore, I can hide my pain from you because I do not want to burden you. Or, I believe if I am so distraught that you can see my psychological pain it is likely to have an adverse affect on you. We don't want to see our loved ones in pain. The raw emotion is uncomfortable. We want to avoid pain. This is a natural, human reaction. Though, my depression sees your frustration as proof that I am a burden, you are not the cause of my pain. Likewise, I am not the cause of your discomfort. Yet, an uncomfortable past experience may convince you to avoid discussing my pain in the fear that you'll trigger me more.

When we avoid the reality of psychological pain it can reinforce stigmas around mental wellness, confirm my distorted view that I am a burden, and disrupt the process of finding equilibrium. Our mental wellness will not be graphed with a green line shooting upward like some sort of dream stock price. There are hills and valleys and recovery is a lifelong process. My hope is to find neutrality. I want to find something sustainable. I have no interest in trying to make each day better than the one before because that's unrealistic. Even for people who may not have depression, anxiety, or another neural diversity, mental wellness does not trend upward every moment of their lives.

Finding balance between the ups and downs of mental wellness sounds like a very difficult task. As such, standing by and supporting someone through it is equally complicated. You cannot expect us to keep 'getting better' in an upward trend, but you want to help us avoid the pain. Avoidance is a strategy that eventually implodes in my experience. I would classify avoidance as damaging and distraction as a better alternative. Personally, I struggle with that classification. Shame tells me that my distraction is an avoidance tactic. However focusing on grief, loss, anxiety, or whatever the psychological pain is for 24/7 is draining. Therefore, a book, a movie, a coloring book, cooking, or whatever you find some satisfaction in can be a healthy distraction despite what the shame says.

Speaking of draining, you can encounter fatigue trying to support someone dealing with mental wellness issues. That desire to stop our pain fuels the need to see a steady improvement like a stock. Not meeting that goal can be frustrating and draining as a support. Perhaps redefining what 'getting better' means is a strategy to help those of us that are neural diverse and those of you trying to support us. The definition will likely be different for everyone. In general, getting better may mean accepting where I am at and setting a goal of preventing myself from hitting rock bottom again. Maybe, understanding that good days and bad days are a reality, but being able to recognize when the bad days are trending in order to ask for more support? I certainly don't feel that I have communicated what 'getting better' means to me very well in this paragraph. That is likely a sign that I do need to sit down and better define it so that I am not trying to reach unrealistic goals subconsciously. sigh

Using those unrefined parameters, how will I know 'bad days' are trending? This is the benefit of the hills and valleys of mental health. We learn in those valleys. Failure and mistakes are how we learn. The way to find balance or neutrality is to experience the highs and lows. In economics, companies that constantly try to make 20% profit from the year before often make cuts to achieve those numbers. They fail to innovate and learn. It's a strategy that works well if you're hoping to get large numbers to increase your selling price and move on. However, it is not a sustainable strategy. And, I am unable to sell my collection of traumatized neurons. So living with them is a better idea than shooting for an unrealistic upward trend in mental wellness.

If I do not try, I cannot fail. Somewhere along the line, perhaps early in my childhood, I adapted this philosophy in a low. Shame or embarrassment may have triggered the thought and it became law. Much of my anxiety comes from the expectations I put on myself. I build them up into an impassable mountain until I have convinced myself not to try. As such, I see expectations from others and want to run the other direction. In the same way as a caretaker, friend, or partner of someone like me, you may have experienced a severe low in your neurally diverse friend. In that moment you constructed a law that you do not want to see that again. You want to protect your friend, just as my anxiety is trying to protect me.

Sometimes, I need someone to just listen. Sometimes, I need a gentle reminder. Many times, I am unable to communicate what I need. As a support, you cannot be expected to know what it is I need. Remember that connection is always needed. Validating and accepting where we are in the highs and lows goes a long way to help. Empowering people with neural diversity to make their own choices is part of that validation. Directly set boundaries for your own mental wellness and we will respect that. Communicating your concerns helps us reality check what anxiety or depression is telling us. Maybe you don't find me a burden and want to hear what I have to say, but today is not a good day. Perhaps, there's a family member in your past who had similar issues and I am triggering you. It is okay to be direct and set that boundary. "This triggers something from my own past that I would rather not revisit. However, ruminating on this stuff all the time is really draining. So if you want a distraction, please reach out. I can totally help in that way."

We are social creatures and isolation is part of many mental health concerns. I cannot say every exposure to others will be beneficial, though it can often help to be surrounded by strangers at a park or a mall. Connection, even those as thin as being surrounded by other humans that are strangers can be helpful. Please do not let anything I have written prevent you from connecting with myself and others who are living with neural diversity. Just try not to be like the helpless neurons above.

#MentalWellness #Acceptance #Depression #Anxiety #Trauma #Connection

The skin is tight around the wound. Blood has tried to clot the area to form a scab. I can feel the tension at every moment while seated. When I walk on the foot there is a small stabbing pain. It is as if I am stepping on the edge of a butter knife with each stride. My mind tunes the ache down to a mild inconvenience and focuses on the worries about my day.

Yet, I cannot ignore the pain of the wound and I reflect, again and again, on the cause. It was a failure. A better person would not have caused the harm. This pain was self-inflicted. It was loss of self control because I am weak. I let anxiety get the better of me. I gave in to the strange satisfaction of fidgeting. I picked at the dry skin on the sole of my foot until it was gone. Then, I kept going. It is gross. I am gross. I disappointed you by revealing this disgusting act.

I blame nervous energy and anxiety, but the wound is deeper. The disappointing, weak, gross person is my self-image. The narrative within my mind for over 40 years is that I am not enough. I have been a terrible friend to those around me. I have consistently disappointed my family and failed every employer I have ever had. This is the keystone of my personal architecture. Whether I am baking a cake or writing a blog post, I will never do the task good enough.

The stabbing pain in my foot is a physical reminder of my inadequacies. The bleeding is deliberate. As I work to create new neural pathways and change my narrative, subconsciously I have sabotaged the process. With each step of my foot I find the dull pain that I seek. My keystone, my default, is pain. Without it, I feel lost and afraid. Satisfactory and successful are not me. It feels wrong, as if I were to put my shoes on the opposite feet.

The dried blood from my foot on the carpet is like the stain of failure on my mind. Here in this moment, I have realized my nervous habit of removing dried skin is far more sinister. Rather than using this information to update my healing process, I give into it. All the work up until now was for naught. Working towards a new narrative being enough for me has been subverted. I have been doing physical harm to my body through stress eating, nail biting, and the removal of dry skin.

Like the skin around my self-inflicted wound, I tighten up. I am frustrated. I am sad. I am ashamed that I am here feeling this way. Now, I have physical and mental pain. It feels familiar. I take a deep breath. I breathe in and out a few more times. The urge to find that rough edge on my pinky finger nail comes to mind. Instead of listening I take another breath. Success. It is a small victory, and the combination of those negative little things are used to beat myself up every day. So, it must work with positive as well, right? From heel to heal, one day at a time.

#anxiety #NotEnough #pain #depression

How can mindfulness meditation practice help us with mental wellness? To answer the question we can look at how our minds function without it.

I recently listened to an interview with Dan Harris and he said something that kicked me in the ass. I had stumbled onto Harris when I started learning about healing my mental health. The news anchor found meditation at a time when he was dealing with PTSD and cocaine addiction. He made a Youtube video on the benefits of mindfulness that a few of my courses and doctors recommended. After seeing that video, I sort of forgot about him until this recent interview.

Harris tells Terry Gross that distracting thoughts during meditation are not a bad thing. "What do I have to do next?" "Am I doing this right?" "I'm frustrated," are a key part of the meditation process. He believes that by gently refocusing our attention on our breathing, or whatever you choose during meditation, we are training the brain to interrupt invasive thoughts outside of meditation as well. The hope is that later in the day, when you have a thought like, "I'm not good enough," you will be able to catch it and refocus rather than ruminate further on worthlessness.

My inner critic bristles at this idea. During meditation, I am focused on this task of, well focusing. In the middle of a busy workday or having an accomplishment being evaluated by someone close to me, I am too frantic to refocus. Fear and loathing dominate my thinking and mindfulness is some distant concept. Of course, as I pondered Harris' words further I wondered if my critical thoughts have proved his theory.

Here's a real world example. I am scared that you, the reader, think I am a moron. In fact, I know I am a moron because yesterday I measured wrong and cut a board for a flower box I was building incorrectly. Some time in the week, I was filling the humidifier and spilled water everywhere on the counter and the floor. In university, I did worked on a team project where I did most of the work and I think it was because my teammate hated my moronic idea for the video. In grade 10...I remember as a child my parents were frustrated...and so on, and so on.

My mind has trained for many years to find evidence of my worthlessness. When I feel shame, embarrassment or criticized, I focus on proving that to be true. I was worried you would think I was a moron and proceeded to dive into memories of shameful experiences from years ago. Could this be the same process of training Harris describes? If so, then it should be possible to change my thinking.

The Gotcha

I meditated daily between 2017-2018. Today, it rarely happens. It didn't work. I'm still broken. I still do not like who I am. This appears to be my inner critic at work again. In reality, I've had 40 years to train myself to loath who I am. A year of meditation is barely a dent into that pattern. Somewhere along the line, I let that old pattern back in and decided mindfulness meditation was a failure, like me. Instead of gently refocusing, I chose to continue beating myself up.

Personally, I wonder if there's some all or nothing thinking preventing me from moving forward. Perhaps, deep down I want to believe in a cure. I'm not completely rid of my depression and anxiety, therefore the meditation, the CBT, DBT, and psychiatrist sessions do not work. I've written before about the idea of accepting depression will always be a part of my life. Yet, there are those times, especially when I am wading through it, that I don't want to accept it. I want to be free of these intrusive thoughts, forever.

Even now, as I type this, I struggle. I want to end on a positive note and inspire myself and others. Yet I think, How many times have you said you would try harder and failed? Nobody is going to be inspired by what you say because you fail to follow through. It is exhausting to try and build new patterns. Am I a broken record, constantly saying the same thing over and over, but not following through? That's one way to look at it. However, it may show that I am working and trying to heal. If I have said I need to break this pattern of self-loathing before, than maybe I am training myself each time I repeat it. I suppose. Failure is how we learn. Is each time I sit here and feel bad for not following through with CBT or things I told my psychiatrist or partner a failure, or a lesson in improvement?

I am sad to say it doesn't feel like improvement. My mind is a forest fire of disbelief scorching any hope that was in the last paragraph. The only tree left unharmed is the one labeled, "maybe these thoughts will help someone else." I think this is a good time to stop writing and try a meditation to put out the flames. Be kind to yourselves. Much love.

#mindfulness #meditation #shame #failure #depression

Habit is comfort. It is predictable and saves us from unfamilair emotions. These patterns can be complex and often work at a subconscious level. A break in the pattern doesn't always guarantee freedom from the habit. It is not a failure, this is an opportunity to be kind and compassionate to ourselves.

I've started knitting as a mindfulness practice and similar to painting, it is nice to work with my hands. When I drop a stitch and don't notice, it creates a hole in the work. Yet, the work goes on. When you catch your finished sweater or blanket on something sharp there is a danger of unraveling. The pattern breaks down because the yarn has been cut. In the case of a missed stitch the yarn continues along the pattern, but is unbroken. This is often the case when we're trying to change personal behaviors.

If I cannot sleep at night, exhaustion finally takes me in the early hours of the morning and I may not get up until after noon. Half the day is gone, which frustrates me and I begin to feel like a failure before I've started. I have less energy and I'm groggy. I reach for junk food for a quick pick me up, but it just makes me feel worse. By the end of the day, I have the urge to stay up late and get something accomplished because I've spent the day unproductively. If I get a good night's sleep, I break the pattern, right? Not necessarily. The yarn can continue to tighten around me even if I sleep well. It's called habit for a reason. I only have to jump into the pattern anywere. A good night's sleep and a productive morning would be great. Yet, I can get in my head and think it is not enough. Now, I lose energy, reach for junk food, and I'm back into the self-loathing loop.

Self help books and programs like C.B.T. don't really talk about this enough, in my opinion. These resources are focused on encouragement, but the reality is that change takes time. The advice offered is still useful, but I have found that I am quick to dismiss those things that "don't work as advertised." These programs and books are often presented in "how to" steps and when step one is making a goal to break your current pattern, I am done before I begin because the pattern remains. This is evidence to my critical mind that the program doesn't work.

The motivation to change, the personal will that sought out the the book or resource is not always enough. Sometimes I wonder if authors of self-help books believe it is. The irony that I'm using the phrase "not enough" has not been lost on me. I am not seeking to blame the authors and creators of the resources I've found. Instead, I want to caution those of you reading my blog. Change is possible, but instant and perfect change is not.

To me, it feels like I've written over and over about getting caught up in a self-critical loop. I am not enough. I don't make enough money. I don't work hard enough. I'm not a good enough son, sibling, friend, or husband. So, I read a book and enter some programs to get better. Things improve and then I relapse. The program and book are probably great, but I am not enough. The pattern of self-doubt is difficult to unravel. 

Furthermore, this default method of thinking doesn't allow me to see when things improved. Biologically, we remember the "bad" things to protect ourselves. This scar is a reminder not to get near that predator animal. However, I did write "things improve" above. I cannot take that back. I mean I could go up there and erase it, but the point is that there is some sign that I am able to do this. A key to breaking from the habit, or pattern, is likely self-compassion.

When I look back, I think one of my most successful streaks was one where I was working toward compassion. I was listening to mindful driving guided recordings that encouraged me to let other cars into the traffic and remember that there are people like me in those vehicles. Maybe that person is having a family emergency and that's why they are driving aggressive. Did they lose their job? Are they distracted on their phone, or with the radio because they're trying to avoid pain, like me? These things that can usually make me feel uncomfortable or angry are actually opportunities for gratitude. The homeless man on the street who is aggressively asking for money and scaring people is suffering. If I am not ready to see that and help, I can be grateful that I have a home.

Trying to be compassionate to others, complete strangers, was my way of finding some compassion for myself. I am also a human who is suffering. I'm not sure when I stopped working on this goal. I suppose that's in the past now. Today, I can try to move forward compassionately. I may not free myself from the pattern today, but what I need when I realize I am still in the loop is love. Something I have been keeping inside me this past week is a phrase I heard. It's not elequent, but every act is an act of love, or a cry for love. If I feel like a failure today, I'm looking for love. If I cannot get that from myself, I can always ask those around me. Hold onto your supports and hold yourselves.

#MentalHealth #MentalWellness #Depression #Pattern #habit

The expected results are always easier to deal with than the unexpected. Consciously or not, I have had a tendency to throw myself under the bus. I know how to deal with failure and defeat. Success, in my mind, is just postponing the next failure. I am even more anxious after a success because I am waiting for the next shoe to drop. In fact, give me a hot minute and I'll convince myself I was not successful at all.

The first delivery person in history carried a package from one person to another. Eventually, they started doing more deliveries and got a cart. Soon they upgraded to a horse-drawn wagon, a flatbed truck and finally a semi-trailer truck. Now imagine the packages are personal traumas. Often we carry these around with us. I've got a fleet of semis following me. Rather than letting go of the traumas, working through the issues, and forgive myself, I add more trucks to the fleet. When I make a mistake, which is a great opportunity to learn, I look back at the thousands of trucks. Those semis contain evidence of past mistakes and failures. My mind believes a clear pattern and a self-fulfilling prophecy is at work.

If I have my arms out, carrying all these packages for decades, I would have no idea what to do without them. What do I do with my arms if I don't have all these gift-wrapped traumas? So, I ensure my arms still have work by creating my own problems. I know I shouldn't have too much sugar because of my diabetes, so I'll just eat all the ice cream. I get the satisfaction of delicious sugar and then the amazing shame in knowing I should not have done that. Procrastination serves up some daily pain. I make a to-do list that is so long that five people couldn't finish it and then I get overwhelmed and do none of it. The next day, I add more to that same list and my week becomes full of fail. I keep myself in this abysmal state because I am familiar with it.

Depression, Anxiety, and Addiction

It's well known that depression and anxiety are like conjoined twins. They feed off each other in many of us. Occasionally, they are joined by their sibling, addiction. The cycle often goes trauma, depression and/or anxiety, and then addiction to dull the pain. The word addiction typically makes us think of substance abuse, from psychedelics to alcohol and caffeine. There are also behavioral addictions like gambling, video games, porn, and social networks like Instagram.

Dulling the pain with addiction is also feeding it. *Add a new truck to the fleet because I know I shouldn't be doing this. Anxiety flairs to hide the shame of it all. Depression builds until you can take no more and need to get another hit. The dopamine kicks in and you feel alright. Lather, rinse, repeat.

More than once I have heard people propose the question of being addicted to the depression or anxiety. These are behaviors of sorts, right? Could it be possible? If porn lights up the same parts of a brain in a scan as heroin, could the feeling of anxiety? One of Norman Doidge's books talks about people's brains that have been rewired to feel pleasure from pain. He specifically referred to a study of people who enjoy BDSM. The pain center of the brain has been linked to the pleasure center in many of these individuals. Could my brain be wired in a similar way? I want to be in pain?

Sabotage

Is my pain all I know and I wouldn't function without it? Maybe the familiarity and predictability simply a comfortable place for me? Is my brain specifically wired to give me shame and worthlessness? Regardless of the reason, self-sabotage isn't always so easy to notice.

New things are scary because of my fear of failure. So is it sabotage if I say, "no" to an opportunity because I will miss out? Or is it sabotage if I say, "yes" to the project since, deep down, I feel that I will completely screw up? On one hand, I feed depression by denying the opportunity. I can look back at the past and wonder what would have happened. If I accept the opportunity, I get a dose of anxiety about my possible failure.

"Get busy living, or get busy dying." This quote from The Shawshank Redemption is some toxic, tough love I give myself. I know being stagnant, frozen in overwhelm is not helping me. It's a long game sabotage. I can look back on my life yearsfrom now and think, "If only I realized my worth sooner. How much more could I have done?" Telling myself to get busy pushes me further into depression.

In Ian McEwan's latest fiction Machines Like Me new, artificially intelligent androids die by suicide. While half of them choose this option, there is one who seems to have deleted most of his software, essentially giving himself a lobotomy. The theory in the book is that this android attempted suicide and couldn't go through with it, leaving him in this state of minimal functions. I started to wonder when reading this is suicide the ultimate self-sabotage?

In my own struggles with thoughts of suicide, I have found myself thinking of lesser punishments or personal sabotage. Frequently, I've thought that I am such a burden to my loved ones that I should run away and be homeless. This fantasy is about removing myself from life as I know it. When I have those days or weeks when I don't want to get out of bed, it's in this same vein. Paralyzed in bed is hiding from my pain, fear, and shame. Or, I imagine being locked away in a psych ward where I cannot harm myself or others. These are all examples of me giving up. The twisted dreams of a sabotage one step away from ending it all.

The real danger of self-sabotage is when I cannot carry any more packages. When I look back and I can no longer see the horizon because of all the semi-trailer trucks full of the things I refuse to let go of. The fact that I can sit here and talk about self-sabotage is a testament to my resolve (at this moment). If I can notice it, I can do something about it.

Introspection

Philip K. Dick said, "The problem with introspection is that it has no end." Somewhere in this blog I have spoke about being present. Surely, I warned myself, and others, about getting caught up in the sadness of the past and the anxiety of the future. I think I have said that now is the only time that I really need to focus on. I recall offering the advice that each new moment, every 7-10 seconds, is a chance to change. The idea being many of our emotional states last this long. The catch is that we can use that time to trigger an additional 7-10 seconds of the same feeling. This is where I am lost. I am dwelling in the sadness and shame of my perceived worthlessness. Each time I start a sentence in this blog with "I," there is a desire to type "hate myself."

I have been here before. How did I get out? I don't remember, but maybe the important thing is that I did get out. In fact, my urge is to run away. All those lesser suicide options above are clues. I have been trying so very damn hard to be productive and pour myself into tasks. Another sign that I am avoiding the pain in hopes it will pass in the next moment. Self care of meditation, mindfulness, and art are no longer practiced. My mind thinks that those strategies obviously didn't work. So, why bother?

After sitting down to write this, I think my mind is somewhat right about those self-care strategies. While perfectly useful, at this point they are less effective. As I said, those fantasies of running away are the clue. It is time to stop running and do the opposite. What if I step into the pain and suffering? Allowing myself to feel those emotions and go deeper into Chris and find the version of me that wrote about being present. He's here, but he's buried under the fear, shame, embarrassment, insecurity, and guilt. I need to forgive myself for all the self-sabotage. I need to thank my inner critic for carrying all those packages of trauma. Even though my critic has mentally beaten me severely, he did it to protect me. Misplaced anxiety and fear sabotaged me in hopes to keep me from collecting more trauma. I have to learn to trust myself and that mistakes are how I learn to be better. Now, in this moment, I'm going to have a good cry.

Be kind to yourselves. Much <3 to you all.

#MentalHealth #MentalWellness #Depression #Anxiety #suicide

"You know better." This is a phrase used by parents and teachers that describes the challenges of adulthood. We perceive societal norms and often judge ourselves to those rules instead of our own moral compass. For me, it's more than just ethical behavior and the word of law. I am also looking at the society around me and judging my every decision. "Would someone else post this very blog? Probably not, it looks weak. They wouldn't want to appear broken." Every time this inner critic engages me, right or wrong, I feel that I deserve to be punished.

There is no better person to punish me, than myself. Denial of the things I need and want is very easy because shame tells me I don't deserve happiness. This has had a profound affect on my therapy because if I find something that helps me, like writing, I take it away from myself. Unworthy and shameful are consistent emotional states that I am 'comfortable' feeling. They are familiar. Success and happiness are fleeting and will leave, so why bother experiencing them in the first place?

Yesterday, I learned that I also engage in physical punishment. When I was a boy, I was spanked. Now, I bite my nails. I eat junk food. Both of these feed the shame. They may seem like minor offenses, but the destructive nature of these acts encourage the continued shame cycle. After feeling shame for so long, it doesn't seem foreign to my mind to think about suicide. It's merely a continuation of punishment. The act of suicide, and thinking of it, is another thing to feel shameful for because some people think it is weak and "giving up."

Patterns of Discipline

The overwhelming internal theme for me is that I am not enough. So, the simplest of errors, like sleeping in, can result in me punishing myself by removing something that I have recently learned is beneficial.

Meditation has given me a lot of introspection and helped me. "What a waste of time. You should be working like everyone else, you loser."

Journaling and writing has been a way to explore my emotions and get things out of my head. "Yet, you still make the same mistakes that you've observed in your writing. Maybe your time would be better spent not whining."

Art is actually rewarding. Painting and creating is something I have found that I enjoy for myself, not for any outside validation from others. "Kid stuff. It's play. Of course you like it. Again, get a job."

I haven't read much on "love languages," but I would wager my father's was providing a roof over our heads. Perhaps my shame around never having a good enough job or career stems from growing up in my father's shadow. Of course, that's my perception of my father. I also see both of my grandfathers in that same light. My mother too, is in this category. I wonder if I am stuck trying to live a life following this example I have set for myself? In actuality, my "love language" might not be acts of service at all.

Regardless of my "love language," I certainly know how to inflict punishment on myself. It is something that I now see laced through my recovery. It's not that I don't apply myself after learning CBT or reading a self-help book. I take the gifts I received from those things and deny myself access to them. I don't deserve to be better. I don't deserve the help of my psychiatrist and friends. This is a familiar feeling that I have been managing for years.

Success and Failure

My doctor asked me if I fear failure or success more. To me, success is luck or chance. It doesn't seem sustainable. I don't fear it. I am afraid that it will set an expectation of success and that I will fail again. Logically, I understand that failure is how we learn, but emotionally I am living a very old pattern. If I don't try, I don't fail or succeed. Instead, I sit in the familiar comfort of shame. I even feel mortified in this realization. The loop continues. "You write all this and you still won't do anything different."

Change is as hard as we make it. I suppose the upside is that getting over this tremendous mountain will be that much more rewarding. I feel as if I need to remind myself that recovery isn't a binary of success or failure, but simply moving ahead. Celebrating the victories, the times when I am able to get past the criticism and punishment, is still very foreign to me. Being in my practiced loop of shame, it is easy to write off things as luck, or focus on the all the times I was unable to succeed. I hope you can take a look at your own behavior and question the motivation behind it. For me, finding the space between observing and critiquing myself is very difficult. I know you can do it, I just need to believe that about myself.

#MentalHealth #SelfCriticism #Shame

While sitting and listening in my recent group therapy I heard a lot of talk about the masks we wear. Like me, many of the people in the group are getting to know themselves. They expressed the desire to be around others who are authentic and genuine. This was a familiar feeling for me. I have struggled to make sense of this as well. Relationships flourish when we are vulnerable, but we can also have boundaries. How do we find balance between the two?

This Is Me

There's a danger in identifying with that which makes us neurally different than others. I have certainly fallen deeper into depression by declaring to the world that depression is all I am. We are not our injuries, disabilities, jobs, or parent's children. Each one of us is an individual. I simply wanted to state this upfront because it is important. If we are to be truly genuine, we are all the worries, feelings, thoughts, victories and failures together. We are not just one part of the whole. I recently heard poet, John O'Donohue, say this in an interview, "Identity is not biography."

Part of learning who I am means letting go, in a way. To really let emotions free is a scary process. I have always held them at bay and tried to control them. For example, I cannot cry in a job interview if a question evokes those emotions. It isn't socially acceptable to express our emotions freely. We must be humble in our success and persevere through pain. This societal messaging can seem like a systematic oppression when you're vulnerably exploring yourself. Once you open the valve, it is much harder to close. Thus, my mind can start to do some unhealthy comparison. I'm open and honest and the world is not. I must be the broken one. Personally, I find blame is often a sign that I'm not being honest with myself. Looking for faults in the world rather than acknowledging that I am hurt is a distraction. I am sad that others are still wearing masks and scared that maybe they are not. Maybe they do want to hurt me? All of these thoughts and emotions are within me, regardless if they are true or not, and it is my responsibility to welcome and respect them.

When I let myself be vulnerable, when I am authentically me, it is an alienating experience. One must be courageous to stay in that space out in a world that is black and white. In the larger society around us, we are right or wrong. There are very few places where emotions are freely accepted. Furthermore, I struggle to stay vulnerable because it is new to me. Going out into the public is like being covered in second degree burns in a sand storm.

"Why can't everyone be vulnerable and honest?" This question, a thought, comes in to bring me out of that emotional space. It builds and the frustration becomes resentment. Was I better off before, when I squashed the emotions? Maybe I am better off being alone because it hurts to get close to people?

Isolation and Solitude

There's a distinction between making space to process emotions and isolating. One I do consciously and the other is subconscious. One is work and the other is not. When I begin to question the world around me, I am once again, avoiding my feelings. I may think that I need some downtime and believe that I am doing some self-care by avoiding social situations. The question I have to ask myself is "what is the emotion behind the decision to stay home?" Is it fear of fitting in? Is it shame?

There's nothing wrong with solitude. At this point for me, it needs to be intentional. I am not protecting myself, but exploring without distraction. Can self-care be a cup of tea, a good book, or a movie? Maybe? For me, those often seem more like distractions from some emotion or situation I am avoiding. When given the opportunity to be social or stay home, 85% of the time the social situation is going to recharge my batteries more than staying home. Humans are social creatures. Anxiety, depression and other neural divergent conditions often encourage us to hide.

Friendship and Boundaries

What about our peeps? Can they be as genuine with us as we are with them? Again, 'maybe' is the answer. If it isn't us, we all have that "Debbie Downer" friend. We have the popular one, the chatty one, the artistic, new age one, etc. Our friends play different roles in our lives, just as we do in theirs. It can feel like rejection when you open up to someone and they do not reciprocate. People have individual tastes, though. My partner would not be open to your numerous stories of gruesome surgical blunders, but I would listen. Boundaries are healthy. If someone is truly your friend, you can explore boundaries with them shame-free. Through, open communication they can say, "I'd rather not discuss that." Likewise, you can say, "That makes me uncomfortable."

It can be very difficult to try to find boundaries in today's world. There's a culture of "Gotcha," a desire to call people out. As friends, I would hope we can respect each other's opinion. That's not always the case in the real world, of course. When we expose our emotions, things get uncomfortable. Maybe that's because we don't often speak with our hearts? If can tell a friend in passionate anger my opinion, can I not apologize with just as much sincere love?

Turning It On and Off

Is the switch to turn off my emotions behind my ear? My interior world before my breakdown was a place of paranoia, anxiety, and self loathing. A comment like, "Nice blog, Chris," would invoke questions of sarcasm. If not sarcastic, is the person feeling pity for me? Are they saying that because they think I want to hear it? In my mind, I could continue deeper and wonder what my late father or my deceased grandmother would think. Am I a disappointment? This is all to say that my interior world is a vast echo chamber. All of that and more can happen in the time it takes me to say thank you to the initial comment. Therefore, I don't have to turn my emotions off with a switch. I have plenty of space to process it.

As I said above, I feel very raw and exposed when I am vulnerable, but the best person to comfort me is always here. It's me. All those questions I asked after the comment are motivated by fear. It's a fear that I do not belong. Rather than express the fear with further questions to echo the fear, I can try to use the space to feel it. Welcoming the pain doesn't mean I have to tell the commenter. Perhaps those deeper issues of my father's opinion and feelings of failure may be better explored in solitude, but I can use my inner space to hold and welcome the emotion rather than more questions. Writing this here seems like one of those "in a perfect world" situations. Truthfully, I am not always capable of sitting with emotions.

Processing emotions is taxing. It can be exhausting. This is why people in my therapy group, and myself, struggle in a world that wears masks. We don't have the energy to put a mask back on. When we do, we feel inauthentic and that hurts. I thought I was finally getting to the core of my issues, but now I have to pretend that I am okay for the benefit of the world around me? It feels like a step backwards. I think my strategy is to be genuine with myself. I'll do my best not to wear a mask, but I will try to have boundaries. We are supposed to choose our battles, right?

Confidant

So, how do we find that close friend who we can be vulnerable with? Maybe we don't. Perhaps I can share my insecurities about my art with other artists, but my fear of being a terrible husband are behind a boundary in that case. Instead, I may address that directly with my partner, or a close friend who is also in a committed relationship. Yet, I cannot talk to my partner or friend about my artwork because I fear they won't understand. Does that make sense?

It can feel like change is impossible, but I like to remind myself that I am not the same person I was twenty minutes ago. Those things we experience can change and influence us. If people change, so do our relationships. Our confidant today, may only be an acquaintance next week. It sounds extreme, I know. Fiction in books and movies like to tell us that emotional bonds are forever, but we don't need to grieve every loss. My best friend lives miles away in another city with his family. If we talk once every three months, that's okay. Before, we may have been much closer, but we both have families now. I can embrace that with joy and some sadness. I can make a new friend and confidant. And, that person could move away, or explore a passion that similarly removes them from my life. I think the key is to value the present moment with those around you.

How do you find friends? There's lots of things written on the internet on this topic. I think the first step is to not isolate so much and be social. This is where I am at. This is the thing I can do at this moment. Before I go, thank you for reading this. I appreciate your encouragement and comments. Maybe we're friends?

#MentalHealth #Shame #Emotions #Boundaries #Vulnerability