Broken Pieces

"There is no one alive who is you-er than you!" -Dr. Suess

I recently broke our computer.

It's our only computer. It started out with me unintentionally bumping it that caused a tiny crack in the screen, which has become a bigger and bigger spider-looking version of itself spreading through the left half of my visual field. We talked briefly about fixing it, but due to the cost we are instead attempting to ignore it.

After a few days of "ignoring it", I realized it's pretty tough. It's reminding me of the old psychology exercise instructing the listener, "do not think about a pink elephant" when of course, a pink elephant is the first thing that pops into my mind.When it comes to thought suppression, we as humans aren't equipped to do this consistently and for long periods of time. Now, if there's no reminder of a pink elephant, we can go long periods without it coming across our brain, much like I didn't give much thought to a nice, clean, smooth computer screen before it was cracked. But if the reminder is there, it's pretty tiring, as anyone with OCD can tell you. Sometimes called "thought stopping", this technique may work for some and typically requires replacing it with another thought or activity, and lots and lots of practice.

We train ourselves with therapy to become aware of our thoughts, our symptoms, our behaviors, and our relationships. We bring certain things to our minds and we want them floating on the radar, so we know how we're doing, what to tell our therapist, and what to figure out next. We want to feel like I'm feeling, which is that I think I have this big spider looking shape memorized because all I can do is look at it. That, to some extent, makes us feel like we're doing a good job with paying attention to ourselves, our environment, and our mood. But there can be too much of a good thing. Personally, I worry that if I hyperfocus on this input too much and for too long, what am I missing on the rest of the screen?

My answer lies with balance. It takes practice building some muscle behind it, so you can flex it well. It takes being able to say, "there's that crack in the screen, right over where I need to read right now" and choosing to zoom out and refocus my eyes. If I only focus on this crack in my screen, it will drive me nuts. But if I pretend it's not there altogether (which is pretty impossible), I lose my insight, my vision, and my big picture. The answer- at least for me, with most situations-lies somewhere in between. A space to acknowledge how annoying it is, how it's in my way, how I wish it wasn't there, and it never happened, and a choice to peacefully coexist if acceptance isn't possible at the moment. 

Our inventory of symptoms, our mood charts, our sleep cycles, our relationships, all of it- are all very important, but there is also the big picture of your life and who you are aside from a diagnosis. Aside from a list in a book, aside from what a doctor might say, there is YOU. The rest of the screen is there, and you can see all of it and parts of it at exactly the same time. A diagnosis is encapsuled within the very courageous, very beautiful, very multifaceted you. We can think of all of you and pieces of you at the same time, so do not allow yourself to be defined by a word.

For now, the computer will stay this way. I really like the way I think about it now.

My Side Of The Room

When I'm introduced to a new person and they ask what I do, I respond that I'm a clinical social worker and then explain I work as a therapist with individuals and families. The responses I've received range anywhere from silence (not kidding-this really happens) to a "Well...that must be, interesting/rewarding/difficult." The best case is when someone lowers their voice and said, "I had to go to therapy once during _____. It helped a lot."

The bottom line is, it's interesting to be the therapist at a party. While I think I have the best job in the world, I've found that it makes for awkward conversation and many people don't know what to say. But stigma isn't going to end unless we all work to end it, and let's face it-we as a society feel more comfortable talking about pap smears than mental illness. So I'm going to share a few things (from my perspective alone) that I think about this incredible gift of working with people. Here are some of my thoughts from my side of the room.


1. I genuinely like you and care about your well-being. Actually, if we met under different circumstances, we would probably be friends.
I feel like finding a good therapist is unique, because unlike other service providers, you're trying to find someone that is a) skilled, and b) likeable. Alternatively, f I'm looking for a mechanic, skill level is all I care about. Same thing for a hairdresser, lawyer, plumber- I could go on and on- but likeability matters little as long as I feel I found someone skilled and honest. Some people don't gel with us personality-wise, but there are many professions and services where that simply doesn't matter.

Why is being likeable important in therapy? The therapeutic alliance is paramount. The relationship matters more than anything else. Feeling that you like your therapist and he or she likes, cares, and can empathize with you is key to being able to partner together to meet your goals. When you bear your heart to someone even in a professional setting, you need to be able to trust in that relationship, which is built upon caring, compassion, and trust, and I personally feel it's most effective when it goes both ways.

2. But we can't be friends in the traditional sense. 
Sometimes I have to stop myself from emailing to find out about that job interview, funeral, surgery, or first date. Why? Because even though I do care, I won't allow my objectivity to suffer. If I don't maintain my professional boundaries (and these vary from clinician to clinician), I won't be able to help you. My clinical rudder will no longer sail us in a straight line, and you are trusting me to do that for us. I do not take that assignment lightly. It's not that I don't enjoy chatting about light topics before or after appointments, but that's as far as I'm comfortable with in order to do my job well. If we work together for any length of time, we'll certainly get to know each other, but it's still professional.

3. I am "assessing", but never judging.
It's hard to talk about some topics, and therapy can get pretty personal. Please believe me when I say I'm never judging you, your situation, or your choices- I'm simply assessing how all this fits together in order to meet the goals you dictate to me. I'm taking what you're telling me and testing it on the litmus paper of what I know about your skills and challenges. I'm always looking for red flags in behavior, mental status, mood stability, and presentation. Once I get to know you well, this becomes easier and faster, and I can guess what you might think or feel in a given situation. But many times I'm wrong, and we can tease it out together. The important thing, though, is to look for it in the first place, and to work with someone that can do this with you.

4. I try not to worry when I haven't heard from you, but I do anyway.
Only because I want the people I've met to do well, feel well, and be successful in whatever way they want or need to be. Sometimes it's because our personalities don't mix well, because I don't have the skills you're looking for, or maybe you've met your goals, but that doesn't keep me from wondering and wishing you well.

5. I've participated in therapy, too, so I know what I'm asking you to do. 
As a clinician, there are times I challenge your thoughts. There are times I ask you to think differently, share stories, put things into a different perspective, and even keep your appointments when you don't feel like it. I've gone to therapy to work on myself, too, and I know there are times that it's amazing, and other times where it's really hard. Understand that I know all that I'm asking of you, and I admire you for doing it.

6. Many therapists, myself included, have had some exposure to mental illness that got us interested in the first place. 
We are by nature very empathetic people. Some of us actually feel it in the gut when you walk in, whether it's a heaviness, a taut and tangled ball, or a lighthearted mood. But if you think it's a coincidence that we understand so well, you're wrong. Chances are we've seen something firsthand with someone we love, felt something firsthand by way of a diagnosis, difficult life experience, or we simply grew up as the friend who always listened and understood, but some combination of things brought us to this field. Our personal lives typically don't get shared in the office, but they can certainly lend themselves well. Add solid clinical skills to a good imagination, and it's easy for most of us to understand what you describe and put ourselves in your shoes. 

7. I am truly honored that you chose me. 
There are a million therapists out there, and I never take it for granted. Ever. To be a small part of the larger healing fabric that connects all of us, even for a short time, is something for which I will never be anything less than awed and appreciative. I tip my hat to your courage, your perseverance, and your amazing journey- and I am honored that you chose me to travel with for any length of time.

These are just a few items I think of regularly in my work. Of course, you're always free to take it or leave my opinions, but please take on mental health for yourself and those you love. Someone you know might be struggling and you may not know it. Be brave and start a conversation, regardless of which side of the room you may find yourself. 

Ripple

"Ripple in still water. When there is no pebble tossed, nor wind to blow." -The Grateful Dead

I'd like you to ask yourself a question:

"What's the one thing I'm going to do for myself today?"

It can be anything. It doesn't have to be something that people understand. It doesn't have to be pretty, neat, or clean, and it doesn't have to be acceptable to anyone else. You don't have to explain it, rationalize it, or get permission. You don't have to tell anyone about it and you certainly don't have to understand it yourself. You don't have to do anything else the rest of the day that you like, except for this one thing. It can be something that takes two minutes or lasts half a day. It can be something ever changing or the same thing forever. And it only has to fit one criteria: it must be something positive for your emotional well-being.

Maybe you're seeing your therapist today. Maybe you're going to the gym, as you know our emotional state is very tied to our physical health. Maybe you're going to take a long, hot shower, or maybe you're going to listen to some good music and sing in the car so loudly that other people stare at you. Maybe you're going to read a magazine or start a new book. Maybe you're going to see an old friend, or you'll going to recharge with some quiet time. Maybe you'll vow to let go of something instead, like judgment or negativity. Maybe you'll identify something to improve upon within yourself. Maybe you find your solace in prayer or meditation. Maybe you'll talk to someone about mental health and what it means to you, and your bravery will inspire someone else. Your possibilities are endless.

You might see this as only one small thing, but some of us believe in the ripple. You may never see where this goes, but take a moment to think how your one thing affects someone else. Will you be a happier customer to wait on in the grocery store? Will you take the time to listen to a dear friend? Will you make someone's day easier, simply because you are taking care of yourself first? Will your children appreciate your serenity, and will your spouse appreciate your patience? Will you inspire someone to exercise, try a new hobby, or even leave the house that day? Mood and anxiety disorders tend to bring our focus inward, but your one thing accomplishes two goals-it takes care of you and people around you reap the benefits, too. It's a seemingly small thing, but I believe there are no small things.

I challenge you to do one thing today for yourself and your health, even for a few minutes. Take on your mental health, and refuse to be passive. Rise to the call for action. Where there is an issue also lies the capacity for growth. We are all connected in ways we don't fully understand, and I hold my arms out to you in solidarity. Let's lift ourselves and one another into a state of well-being, health, and peace.

If you can do that with just one small thing, why wouldn't you?

Swim Like A Salmon

"The conventional view serves to protect us from the painful job of thinking."-John Kenneth Galbraith

Salmon swim upstream, and I read on Wikipedia how they are "anadromous",-a word I did not know-which is from the Greek for "running upward." I like to think that people can swim upstream sometimes, and I actually think most of us don't do this often enough.

Our language has no shortage of phrases telling us we should be laid-back- "go with the flow", "going with the grain", or "water off a duck's back"- referring to an "easy" mentality where we don't sweat the small stuff. We all seem to feel the pressure to be this easy, low-maintenance, "cool as a cucumber" persona. My image of this mindset is that we take things as they come, accept what life hands us, and don't obsess, worry, or fret. In other words, most of us "type A" people instinctively don't do any of this, and we really sweat the small stuff, all the while telling ourselves we should go with the flow. Not only that, we're all supposed to be mindful of our feelings throughout the process! At times, this is a tall order, and I would say occasionally counterproductive. We spend more time thinking about how we should be handling something instead of handling it, and I would argue that our methodology isn't always faulty to begin with.

What if there are times that it's not only okay to sweat the small stuff, but necessary? What if thinking outside the box with all our worrying, fretting, and imagination actually help us identify options and therefore, a more powerful, productive solution? If we never go against the grain, how do we spot the gaps? Where is the place for imaginative thought? If we simply accepted our first thought to any given situation, we might miss something. I think it's okay to reframe, to see things from another perspective, and really chew on it for a bit before coming to a decision. We don't need to accept the pressure to go with the flow, when the flow may not be going where we actually want to end up.

If you're facing a decision or struggling with a situation, ask yourself some questions. How would you feel if you were on the receiving end of this story instead of the storyteller, or vice versa? What if you were a detective, and needed to exhaust all evidence before coming to a conclusion? What factors would change your decision- i.e. a different job, if it was about someone else, or if something hadn't happened? Play devil's advocate, and pretend it's your job to come up with a counter argument. Sometimes, this can help identify what we miss if we simply go with the majority vote.

Someone might argue that going upstream is harder. I say harder is fine, because that's where we get stronger. The brain is a muscle too, and needs exercise in order to grow.

Don't be afraid to swim upstream. Just because everyone else is in agreement doesn't mean you can't question or raise other possibilities. Just because a thought enters your mind doesn't mean you need to accept it, react to it, or believe it. Swim upstream. Go against the grain. Change direction. Use your mind's potential to imagine, create, and think. If you're not able to be mindful about it, that's okay. Some days are hard enough already. You'll get there eventually. And who knows-your "there" may lie upstream-and it's up to you to go find it.