Monday, May 13, 2013

Word Vomit


As you may have guessed from previous posts I spend a lot of time trying to control my thoughts. I’ve written about making up stories and about trying to change unrealistic thoughts into realistic ones. In actuality, I think it’s my thoughts that control me for the most part and not the reverse.
I can’t really call it an internal monologue because it’s more of a dialogue or conversation. If I’m not directing and controlling my thoughts, I’m internally reacting to the ones that come up. I’ve already given examples of that.

So, what happens when I just simply let go?

About a year ago there was something in life that was causing me stress and anxiety. It wasn’t the kind of agoraphobic anxiety of leaving the house or having a panic attack; it was the common anxiety of being unsure how to proceed in a certain situation.

I was really at a loss as to what to do to help myself. One day, almost in desperation, I grabbed an A5 notebook and pen and began to write. It was an unplanned, uncontrolled stream of consciousness pile of word vomit. I have a very colourful vocabulary at the best of times but I swear I was using words even I refuse to use. When I’d finished I felt purged and clean. After a couple more stream of consciousness writing sessions I began to learn and see things that I had obviously only been aware of at a subconscious level. It created a major turning point for me.

The other night I couldn’t sleep. Something was weighing on my mind. After 90 minutes of trying to sleep I decided to give up and do a stream of consciousness writing session. The problem was, even though I wasn’t sleepy, it was warm and cosy in bed and I couldn’t be bothered sitting up and grabbing pen and paper. I chose, instead, to try to have a stream of consciousness thought session. I’d never done it before and didn’t really know what to do. But I didn’t know what to do when I was writing either.  I simply let whatever thoughts came up do so without trying to harness, control, manage or plan. Interestingly, I fell asleep while I was doing it.

My mind – maybe most minds – seems to want to constantly engage with itself. Stream of consciousness takes away the dialogue. When I was writing I was simply the scribe. In fact, my hand was racing so quickly across the page trying to keep up, there was no time to think, judge or interact. It’s harder to do it without writing. Instead of scribing it’s like trying to just neutrally observe the disjointed thoughts that flash across the mind. Doing it the latter way is actually quite relaxing. Some really hateful thoughts came up and I didn’t have to censor or judge myself because they came and went. Sometimes I raised my eyebrows and thought, “Oh, I didn’t know that.” One very old hurt that I hadn’t consciously thought about for years cropped up and I found myself thinking that I hated someone. The thoughts just kept meandering and I ended up, through no conscious effort, understanding that my life had turned out much much better than the person who’d hurt me. That wasn’t an attempt to make myself feel better; it was a disjointed thought. It was also a very powerful one.

I think it’s unlikely that stream of consciousness would be beneficial in a panic attack situation. Sometimes, though, when I’m feeling too overwhelmed to try to change my thoughts I use mindfulness. I’ve written about that before, too. I suppose that sitting on the sidelines and observing thoughts without interacting with them is a form of mindfulness. It’s just more of an internal than external focus and the whole point of the external focus is distraction.

One thing is for sure. It’s never boring inside my head!

Friday, May 10, 2013

The Powerlessness of Positive Thinking

Yeah, you read the title correctly. We anxiety sufferers tend to be negative thinkers. So, why can't we just snap out of it and think positively? Because trying to think or be positive is like putting a bandaid over a gaping wound. It is futile. End of post. Right? Wrong!

Let me give you a little glimpse into my inner monologue.

Walking out the front door. Thinks to herself, "I'm going to have a massive panic attack and die when I'm out."

Uses positive thinking. "I'm going to be calm the whole time I'm out and have a wonderful time."

"Not on my watch, sunshine."

Of course, that was an extreme and fictional example. Anxiety sufferers have what psychologists term unhelpful thoughts. It's an apt name so I'm happy to use it. We also have a distorted sense of reality when we're panicky. We can't just snap out of it but we can change our perception which I think is more helpful and productive than spouting falsehoods.

Consequently, the monologue above would be more like this:

I'm going to have a panic attack and die.

How many times has that happened before?

Never.

So, why do you think it's going to happen today?

I'm extra nervous.

How likely is it that you'll die from a panic attack.

Not very.

Is it realistic to think you will.

No.

You can see where it's heading. Ultimately, the thought that I'm going to have a panic attack and die will be replaced by I'm more nervous than usual today but it's likely that it will pass and I'll have a good time.

The difference between the positive bandaid I gave myself in the first example and the end thought in the second example is that I would actually believe the latter and go on to have a more successful and less anxious time out and about.

My first reaction to any situation is usually negative. The negativity came before the PAD. I can't help it; it's part of my personality. It's not something I can change. What I can change is my reaction to the negativity. Being positive will never be second nature to me but I'm working on always challenging the negative. I hope that the challenging will, in time, become second nature.