I don’t like positive thinking.
By that, I mean the type of positive thinking that says if you fill your head with happy mantras and affirmations you’ll eventually believe it. I don’t like it at all. I think it’s unrealistic and unhelpful.
Trying to believe everything is alright when it's not and telling myself I love myself when I want to die only left me feeling like a failure. It felt dishonest. Repeating a positive message to myself didn't make me believe it, it only made me tune out the words until what I was saying lost all meaning.
I’ve struggled with depression and anxiety from C-PTSD for many years and I’ve tested many ways of dealing with it. I tried positive thinking which didn’t help me, so I tried the complete opposite. I dove head first into the abyss.
I used to repress my emotions; as a child it was essential for survival. I was always sensitive but growing up, my feelings were shamed and invalidated so I pushed them down. After I got out of my original abusive situation and started scratching the surface of healing, I realized I had a problem with repression. Then I became obsessed with my emotions.
Anything I felt, anything I thought, was of the utmost importance- a reflection of myself. Everything I felt had to be analyzed and was allowed to stay for however long it wanted. My mantra became “All feelings are valid.”
While I still agree that all feelings are valid, I’ve amended it to, “All feelings are valid, but it doesn’t mean that every feeling is true.” Meaning that your feelings aren’t necessarily an accurate reflection of the current situation and you need to practice discernment in where exactly your feelings are coming from. Whether you’re feeling bad because someone currently violated your boundaries, if you were triggered, or both.
There’s also the matter of the recordings in our head that come from past experiences. I’ve identified several in my own head:
- The Bully. This guy is a straight up douche. All he does is demean, mock, and tear you down. It’s the voice that snarls, “You’re nothing. You’re worthless. You’re a waste of space and better off dead. They were all right about you, you’re a broken failure of a human being.”
- Tweak. Named after the South Park character, this guy believes everything the bully says and is constantly panicked by it. Every little thing that happens is a major stressor and becomes the biggest problem in the world. This is the voice of anxiety.
- The Defeatist. The epitome of powerlessness is the defeatist: “What’s the point? Why should I clean up? What difference would that make? Everything is always the same no matter what. Why should I do something that might make me happy when I could just lie here. It doesn't matter. There’s no point to anything.” Everything in the world is gray to the defeatist.
These recordings have dominated my mind for years and I identified with them strongly because I was so scared of repression. They HAD to be parts of me, otherwise why would they be so loud? So convincing? So overwhelming?
I figured since they were part of me, I needed to nurture and validate them. But that never made me feel better. It just worsened my self-loathing, nihilism, anxiety, depression and shunned my child-self for expressing any innocence, wonder or curiosity.
This nurturing of the monsters became part of my self-care. While self-care is essential, it’s hard to do effectively if you don’t know who you are.
Along with treating these echoes of my past like they were me, I also believed:
- Self-Care is total kindness. All compassion, all nurturing, all mothering, all validating, all the time. While this is amazing to do for your inner child, it doesn’t help at all when you apply it to the monsters.
- I needed to walk on eggshells with myself all the time. I felt fragile and delicate. I wasn’t allowed to set limits, discipline, or say no to anything I wanted.
Due to all these misconceptions, my mind was a madhouse. There was no safe space and I never knew what to expect. If something triggered my insecurity, my day was ruined. There was no coming back from it.
My conscious voice, the one that is speaking right now, would get locked away in the back of my mind. I have this image of my reasonable self locked away in a cage, screaming but being drowned out by the noise of internal conflict. With no way to self soothe, I was only released when the emotion subsided. I often felt like someone handed me a screaming, crying baby that I didn’t know what to do with. I’d try to kiss it or pat in on the head but it would only get louder. I wanted to set it on the ground and run.
I also had a problem with being controlling outside of myself. I’d cling tightly to my relationship, wanting to get all the attention and praise I needed there. I was terrified of everyone I love dying, I was terrified anyone not liking me or someone being “better” than me. People would tell me I need to let things go more which angered me. I already had nothing, what else was I supposed to give up? Goddamn.
It was assertiveness that helped.
I woke up one day last week crying. I sobbed, feeling empty, worthless and devastatingly insecure. Nothing new, same old shit I’ve been dealing with for years. They came from beliefs I’d thoroughly examined; I knew the sources that caused them. I’ve cried about them, written about them, grieved them and they were still as persistent as ever. I didn’t know what to do outside of that.
I got up, got dressed to work and as I was waiting for my bus, something snapped. I was so tired of this. I was tired of feeling victimized in my own head. I was tired of having no control in my life. I took a stand. I yelled at the chaos:
“Listen, you can feel bad, you can attack me, you can be insecure, but I REFUSE to be locked away. You will not take control of me today. I’m going to sit on this mountain of objectivity and I’m going to observe. Your waves can crash around me but I will not let you drown me.”
I spent the next three hours of my desk watching it all and I challenged every thought. I wasn’t sweet and permissive this time, I was fierce.
“Oh I should die? No, I shouldn’t. You’re an old recording and the only reason you’re saying that is because you don’t think there’s any other way out from this suffering, but that’s not true. There is another way.”
“Oh I’m worthless and replaceable? That's bullshit. No I’m not. There’s no one exactly like me and there never will be. You’re only saying that because of how you’ve been treated but that message isn't true.”
For the first time, I really believed what I was saying. I'd known these things intellectually but the strength and anger I had conjured up made the truth about my worth feel real.
I went through the entire process of my husband leaving me, down to him packing up his stuff, walking out the door to who would keep the cat. It hurt, it hurt a lot but I didn’t abandon myself in the process. I went through how I would cope, who I would hang out with, what I would do afterwards and realized I’d be okay. He’s not the only thing standing in my way of a heroin addiction or a suicide. I’d be okay on my own, I’d recover.
After a few hours it all died away and I was able to put 100% of my focus into my job for the first time in months. I felt empowered like a grown ass woman instead of feeling like a powerless baby. Instead of feeling drained, I was full of energy.
Since then I’ve felt more independent, more fearless, confident and assertive with other people. I’m starting to give less of a fuck about what other people think. It feels amazing.
I’ve started taking responsibility for my mind, my emotions and my happiness. By doing so, I taken the first step in mastering my mind and I’ve never felt more like myself.