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Category Archives: Blogging

It’s Time

So I had been on a pretty steady writing roll at the beginning of the year, publishing about a post a week, when something unfortunate happened. My psychiatrist thought that my antidepressant wasn’t working so she recommended that I taper off of it. She thought the problem was that I have PTSD and should do some trauma-based therapy instead.

My therapist didn’t think it was a good idea to taper off my meds while depressed without adding anything, and she did not think trauma-based therapy would be helpful at this time. I completely agreed with her. I’m not used to having my providers be on different pages. She and my previous psychiatrist used to work closely together and often gave each other updates. I try to do what my doctors tell me to do but I was at a loss as to how to do so in this case. So I listened to my psychiatrist about the meds and went down on my dose, and I listened to my therapist about the therapy and did not start trauma-based treatment.

Guess what happened? My therapist was right about both things. She has known me for over 20 years, whereas my psychiatrist has known me less than a year. My therapist also has more than 40 years of clinical experience, and my psychiatrist is at the beginning of her career. So really I should have just listened to my therapist from the get go. I don’t really know why I didn’t. It was a costly error in judgment because I got severely depressed and anxious a few weeks after lowering my meds.

In a previous post, 50 Shades of Blue, I talked about how there are a lot of different flavors of depression. When my psychiatrist thought my meds weren’t controlling my depression in March I was still highly functional and I didn’t think it was that bad, relatively speaking. Maybe a light to medium blue. At the lowest point of this depressive episode in April I would describe it as an inky blue-black. Things got better for a little while in June but then by July my depression was more of a cold grayish blue.

What really sucks about going off of your meds is that simply going back up on them doesn’t correct the problem. Sort of like how it takes months to lose weight but just a few weeks to gain it all back. So for the past 5 months I have led a fairly marginal existence, mainly saving up my energy for my clients and working on self-care. I would try to get a little exercise, some sunlight, meditate and pray, eat, see my family. I even started playing pickleball, because it’s easier on my body than tennis, and I could have some social interaction, since I don’t have friends here yet. But I could not get myself to write. Could not blog, write in my journal, or even jot down writing ideas in my Notes app.

But here’s the good news. A week and a half ago I suddenly decided that it was time to write my book, and I knew this meant I was finally getting better. If you’ve been with me since the birth of my blog, which was almost 9 years ago, you know that the purpose of this whole endeavor was to get me to write a book. And now that this goal feels like my destiny again I finally feel alive, fully like myself again. I write in my journal. I read books on writing books. I jot down lots of ideas for posts and chapters. I’m blogging at this very moment. There are interesting ideas in my brain other than worrying about my lack of funds and when I’m going to start my new job. I feel joy and excitement rather than feeling empty and dead inside. I finally feel awake.

I’m sharing this with all of you because if it weren’t for you, dear readers, I would have never been ready to write my book. I would have never known whether or not what I had to say was interesting or funny or meaningful or relatable. I wouldn’t have felt the joy of having someone tell me that sometimes they feel the exact same way and it gave them comfort to know that they’re not alone. I wouldn’t have received the encouragement to write the book that many of you have given me. I’m going to continue to rely on you for support as I go through this process. In fact, in next post I’m going to ask you a favor, so I hope you’ll participate.

Self-Care, Part 3

Lately I’ve been reading old blog posts in an effort to reconnect with myself. I have gotten better at practicing self-care. I am better able to recognize when I’m hungry, when I’m anxious, and when I have to pee. Those 3 used to feel really similar for some reason. Now I feed myself. Last week I cooked 3 meals, and I hate cooking. I just came back from the grocery store, which I also hate. My sleep cycle is more similar to the average person, although still night owlish. I don’t go to bed past 1 am, and I don’t sleep past 10 am anymore. I even do chores on the weekend, rather than lie around because I’m too exhausted to do anything. I don’t overstimulate my brain with games in an effort to prepare for some kind of mental apocalypse.

I’m working on taking care of my health. I just went to an orthopedic appointment last week because my shoulder hurts so much that I can’t even swing a racket. When the woman took me back for an x-ray she asked me how long it has been hurting, and I said since January. She was like, that long? What, did you think it was just going to get better on its own? It made me realize that I don’t take my pain seriously. I wanted to get my hip checked out, too, but I have to schedule a separate appointment. It’s been hurting for several years so I wonder what she’s going to say about that.

I also realized that I don’t get to decide what is strenuous enough to require an inhaler. My body decides. I may think it’s pathetic to need to take a few puffs to bring my trash can up and down the hill, which only takes about a minute. Or that cleaning doesn’t count as exercise. But if it makes me throw up, then I have to accept that my asthma is that bad and just take the darn thing.

I’ve gotten better at solitude. In one of my first posts, I talk about my newly single status and how challenging it is to live and be alone. At that time, I had never been without a romantic relationship because I thought being alone was worse than being miserable. I was terrified of something happening to me and no one knowing about it so I played tennis every night just so that people would worry if I didn’t show up.

At the time I figured out that feeling bad about yourself for being in a sucky relationship was not better than being alone. But I had no clue the extent to which boundaries were an issue for me. Now I do, and I feel fiercely protective of my boundaries. My home has become my safe space, and I am happy to have it all to myself. I am happy that everything in it, including the color of the paint on the walls and the art work that I created, is a projection of myself. I am not ready to have anyone in my space. If someone else is in it, then I feel them instead of me, and I need to know what’s me. I need to know what it is that I want. Even if the other person doesn’t ask, I intuit what they want and give it to them anyway without asking myself how I feel.

I try not to beat myself up for my codependency. It’s not my fault that I had to develop this skill. I’ve always told my therapist that I feel like I have a crack in my foundation. That something was broken from the very beginning, although I didn’t know what it was at the time. Recently she told me that those cracks can be repaired. That a house is a metaphor for our personality, and the first floor is our relationship to ourselves. Only after we’ve spent time on the first floor can we move to the second floor.

I do have some advantages this time around that I didn’t have last time. One is that my family lives nearby, so if I’m too tired to eat I don’t have to lie on my couch and starve to death. I can just go over there and let them feed me, which I do with some regularity.

The other advantage is my Apple Watch. Before I used to obsess about throwing out my back and not being able to crawl to my phone to call for help. Because one time my back was in spasm and I couldn’t move for a few minutes. I used to try to remember to keep a device in every room and to tell my friends that if they received a text or saw a Facebook post saying Help! I’ve fallen and I can’t get up! to take it seriously. They suggested getting one of those Life Alert buttons to wear around my neck, but that seemed extreme. But now that I have my Apple Watch, I will be able to call for help in any room of my house even if I can’t move thanks to Siri.

So thank you, Apple, for making solitude a little less scary.

How Was Your Blog Reading Experience Today?

I don’t know about you, but I’m getting tired of requests to rate my experience with 5 stars on every single thing I do. I’ve already had 2 requests today, and it’s only 2 pm. So there could be more forthcoming.

My first one started with a call this morning asking me to pre-register for my CT scan on Monday, because my GERD/asthma/allergy/throwing up thing has really gotten out of hand. This is the 14th time I’ve had to confirm my information for my last 8 appointents in the past 2 months. Because in addition to making you pre-register by phone, they also ask you to do it by logging into My Chart. Or they mail you questionnaires to fill out beforehand. And then when you get to your appointment they ask you the same questions again because apparently they don’t have to read the chart or the forms you filled out. So I was already not in a 5 star mood. And before the woman gets on the line, I get a recorded message asking me to take a brief survey after my call by logging on to some web address. They really need to perfect that approach if they want 5 star ratings. Because that’s way too much work. And I don’t even get anything out of it. They could at least offer 5% off my next co-pay.

As expected, she asks me the same questions they ask every time. No, I have not moved since last week. My insurance hasn’t changed. I feel safe in my home. I haven’t fallen in the past 12 months. Except in this one she asks me for the last 4 digits of my social. Apparently I gave the wrong answer. I was like, I don’t know what to tell you. Those are really the last 4 digits. So then she was like, can you bring your SSN card to your next visit, to prove it’s you? Seriously? I told her, not so patiently, that some people don’t even give out their SSN’s, so I don’t see why I need to bring my card to prove that the number they have on file really isn’t me. After providing some examples of how she can verify it’s me in other ways–my address, phone #, first of kin, etc.–she finally agrees to email someone and give my corrected number and says hopefully they’ll take her word for it. Whatever. And then she told me my co-pay was going to be $248 and do I want to pay for it now. No, I don’t want to get out of bed and get my credit card downstairs and pay for it now. But thank you for warning me in advance, because I thought it was covered by my insurance.

If I had remembered the web address for the survey, maybe I would have actually filled this one out, but not because I was going to give her 5 stars. I am not a satisfied customer.

After that, I changed my sheets and got out this new silk pillow case I ordered on Amazon, and you know what was in there? A $5 coupon if I go on the Amazon website and give their product 5 stars. Which I will probably do, because I buy something from Amazon almost every day. A much better approach, if you ask me. Buying my satisfaction.

If you enjoyed this blog post, please feel free to leave me a 5 star review 🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟😉.

Adventures in Blogging: Six Years Later

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I wrote my first blog post on September 24, 2013.  At that time, my goals were to take some preliminary steps towards writing a book. Like writing stuff down and letting people read it. Because I had never written anything about myself that I thought was good enough to share. I figured blogging could be my version of exposure therapy–just throw myself out there, with all my weaknesses, secrets, and embarrassing moments. Make myself vulnerable to the world.

Fortunately, not many people read my blog, so it wasn’t too painful. And the people who read it were mostly my friends and family. And people who could relate to my problems. Which turns out to be almost everyone. The response has been overwhelmingly positive, in fact. It turns out that the things I was so reluctant to share are the very things that have improved through the process of blogging. So I thought I’d share my progress with you, since you helped me to be the person I am today.

  1. Self-care. This has actually become one of my areas of expertise. Which is kind of ironic, because I was pretty terrible at it when I started my blog. I never got enough sleep and often had to binge sleep on weekends and breaks. I would get hypoglycemic because I wouldn’t make eating a priority. I coughed all the time, couldn’t breathe, and threw up on occasion but didn’t bother to find out what was wrong with me. I would only allow myself to consult my therapist in emergency situations. I had a terrible relationship with my body. To be honest, I still struggle with all of these things, but the difference is that I’m committed to making self-care a priority. When I falter, I forgive myself and renew my vow. And it makes a big difference, having someone who is committed to caring for me.
  2. Self-compassion. At the time I started my blog 6 years ago, I was separated from my second husband and dating someone who I couldn’t stand and filled me with self-loathing. We broke up shortly thereafter, and that was the first time I had ever been single. Most people never knew what was going on in my relationships because I feared that people would judge me, and I already judged myself harshly enough. I didn’t need the extra guilt and shame. But in freeing myself from the pressure of seeming like I had it all together, I was able to forgive myself for my mistakes. And I have become less judgmental of other people, too. Or at least I am committed to being less judgmental of myself and others.
  3. Boundaries. Before I started my blog, I only had a vague idea of what boundaries were. Probably because I didn’t have any. I never said no. If someone needed something and I could provide it, I felt it was my duty to give them what they wanted. I couldn’t distinguish my feelings from someone else’s feelings. I knew what other people wanted but I had no idea what I wanted. There were no boundaries in my thoughts, either. Everything ran together in this litany of worry that played over and over, like an anxiety playlist on repeat. Practicing mindfulness has helped me to put some boundaries in place, but I still struggle in all of these areas. But that’s OK. In mindfulness, there is no goal to achieve. No grade to earn. I just need to keep practicing.
  4. Warriorism. I love a challenge. A difficult relationship. A complicated knitting pattern. Being so tough that I can throw up during a match but keep going, win or lose. But I have learned that, while it’s good to know that you are capable of doing hard things, that doesn’t mean that you need to make everything hard to do. So now I take my drugs for all my conditions, take time off from playing when my body tells me to, let go of people who do more harm than good, and sometimes knit really easy things, like scarves. Because I imagine even warriors take it easy when they’re not in battle.

2019 has been a tough year, and the school year has already begun with some unique challenges. But I feel up to the task. I am committed to caring for myself. Being kind to myself. Saying yes to what I want and no to what I don’t want. Being selective about the challenges I take on. And blogging.

Five Years Later

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I’ve been so busy with work that I forgot that the 24th was my blog’s 5th birthday. So happy belated birthday, Normal in Training!

My birthday blog feels more like the beginning of the new year for me than January 1 does. It gives me a chance to reflect on the important thoughts, feelings, and events that have taken place over the past blog year. And now that I post an old post every Thursday on my Facebook page, I read some of my old posts every week, which really helps to put my life in perspective since I started my blog.

I have to say, when I look back at some of the things I have shared, I am surprised at my own bravery. Because I have no desire to share those posts now! But they’re still there, if you want to go back that far and read them. Having a blog is like having a motivational poster in your mind that says, “Have you shared your soul today?” It’s helpful to have that invitation to be vulnerable, because my first instinct is to hide.

Having a blog also reminds me of how unpredictable life is. I remember 2 years ago, before my brother moved in with me, I was thinking about getting Lasik surgery because my eye doctor said it was life-changing. I thought, well my life can use some changing. So why not? Turns out I didn’t need the Lasik after all. Life-changing moments get thrown at you, whether you want them or not. While I would have preferred 20/20 vision, adjusting to my new life is probably making be a better person than Lasik would have.

Now I’m about go to through some major changes again, a few short months after my Feeling Fragile post. I sold my patio home, 3 months after I put it on the market. And the townhouse that I wasn’t going to be able to purchase unless everything fell into place perfectly? Well, everything fell into place perfectly. And if all goes as planned, I should be moving at the end of the year. It seems too good to be true, and things could still go wrong, so I tentatively share this good news with you. Because it affirms what I feel whenever things miraculously seem to work out: God cares.

Having a blog is also a reminder of how some things never change. My first post was about my problems sleeping, my stressful bedtime routine, my overactive brain. Nothing has changed. It’s just as hard to regulate my sleep cycle now as it was 5 years ago. My depression, my anxiety, my stress level, my inability to say no, my crash and burn tendencies–all exactly as they were, despite my devotion to self-care.

There are positive things that have stayed the same, too, though. I still care more about eating after tennis and friendship than winning. Although I still want to win. I’m still a warrior: I don’t stay down for long. I still try to remain positive, see the good in people and in life.

But I’ve also learned that change is possible. I have become a better person in many ways. I am in a relationship for the first time after almost 5 years, which is perhaps my biggest act of bravery this past blog year. It is wonderful and terrifying at the same time. It forces me to face my fears, to be vulnerable, to choose love every day. To let go of the anxiety of not knowing what will happen. To muster the courage to accept whatever does.

I am a better person to myself, too. In this moment, I am most thankful for my blog because it teaches me to practice mindfulness–to be fully present to the unfolding of my life exactly as it is happening. And to practice self-compassion–to be loving and kind to myself, despite all of those quirks and failings that make me feel like I’m not normal.

Everything Ebbs and Flows

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One of the many things that’s helpful about having a blog that I’ve kept up for almost 5 years is that I see how much repetition there is in my life. I guess that shouldn’t be surprising. That’s the reason why therapy doesn’t work in a day. Even if you can identify in that first session what the client needs to do, it takes a lot of repetition to change your mindset and your behavior. And yet, every time I reread an old blog post, I’m like, what the heck? I was doing the exact same thing 4 years ago?

Yesterday I published an old post I had written about my guilt over my sleep cycle on my FB page (which I encourage you to follow, if you aren’t already doing so). In this post my therapist had given me permission to stop obsessing about not being able to regulate my sleep cycle over the break and said that, when I needed to wake up early, I would be able to do it. Which was helpful in forgiving myself for what I perceived as my sleep sins.

And yet, guess what I did this summer? I obsessed about not being able to regulate my sleep cycle. I thought about it nonstop. Tried different strategies, all to no avail. No matter what I do, my sleep cycle naturally gravitates to its night owl pattern– falling asleep around 3-4 am, waking up in the afternoon. My brain is like a manic vampire–I cannot shut it up at night, and it cannot stand the light.

But now I’ve started work and, although I’m not sleeping any earlier, I wake up when I’m supposed to. I’m sleep-deprived, but responsible. So I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s OK if I can’t change my sleep cycle. That when I have to wake up early, I will. The same conclusion I came to on July 27, 2014. The same conclusion that I’ve probably come to after every break.

Sometimes I still get caught up in thinking that if I were more disciplined, more of an adult, perhaps I could get this sleep thing under control. Perhaps I could be more like a normal person. But yesterday, in a presentation that I gave on resilience, I used the following quote from Paul Gilbert, author of “The Compassionate Mind:”

So much of what we are has, in a way, little to do with personal choice. Therefore it makes little sense to blame ourselves for some of our feelings, motives, desires or abilities or lack of them, or for how things turned out.

So I have stopped berating myself (in the moment) and repeat my self-compassion mantra. You’re doing the best that you can. Am I, though? Yes. You really are. You always do. (I have to go through the whole dialogue every time. Obsessive, I know, but I can’t help that, either.)

I also repeat my mindfulness mantra to remind myself that the cyclical nature of my sleep problems is just how it is. Everything ebbs and flows. Everything comes and goes. No matter how hard I try, how disciplined I am, it will always be like this–semesters filled with sleep-deprivation punctuated with periods of night owl syndrome over the breaks. This is the ebb and flow of my life.

So I’m trying to accept it, just as it is.

I’m Obsessing

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I’ve written several blog posts about being obsessive (Obsessiveness, If There were a Prize For Most Likely to Obsess Over Nothing I Would Totally Win, Perception is Reality), and I haven’t written one in a while, so I thought I’d give you an update on whether I’m cured.

The answer is…no. I’m not cured. My brain has a mind of its own, and it really likes to think about the same things. Over and over. All the time.

Yesterday I was particularly obsessive for some reason. I repeated some items that I needed to write down on my grocery list over and over while I was trying to take a nap because I didn’t want to forget them. Which was really conducive to sleep, as you can imagine. Getting up and writing down the items would have been the obvious solution, but for some reason obsessing seemed like the easier choice.

And then there are those important decisions about the future that plague me like, what am I going to eat for lunch 3 days from now? Should I wear jeans on Friday? Should I weigh myself, since the results will probably be depressing? How can I stop from weighing myself, given that I’m obsessive? Should I risk eating chocolate today? Or am I willing to throw up over it?

The good news is, there are things that help me to obsess less. Medication helps. The other day I was remembering how often people use to tell me that they heard wonderful things about meds and I should really try them. I realize now that I was annoying the hell out of them and they wanted me to do something about it. And I have to admit, sometimes I annoy myself. But I am much less annoying than I used to be. So that’s something.

Practicing mindfulness and self-compassion helps. When I am in the midst of an obsessive episode, logic and reasoning are a waste of time. Telling myself to stop doesn’t do much, either. So I tell myself that I’m just obsessing. This is what the mind does. It’s not my fault. I’m doing the best that I can. It’s painful, but at some point it will subside. And then I try to be nice to myself until it does, no matter how long that takes.

Tennis helps. Regardless of whether I win or lose, I feel better afterwards. My mindset shifts, and the things I obsessed about all day become a distant, irrational memory. I had a meditation instructor tell me that I like tennis because it’s a way of practicing mindfulness, so maybe tennis is the most effective way of practicing mindfulness for me.

Blogging helps. The act of writing down all of the things I’m thinking about is therapeutic. It’s a way of listening to myself rather than trying to cut myself off, telling myself I don’t want to hear it. And sometimes people read these posts and like them. Sometimes they even comment on them. So that’s more people who are listening, which makes me feel really good.

So if you have an obsessive loved one, listening is truly one of the most healing gifts you can give. They’ll be much happier with you than if you give them advice or tell them they’re annoying you and they should just stop talking. You don’t even need professional training to do it well. It may not cure the problem, and it is a strategy that is always at your disposal if you remember to use it.

And then you can refer them to this blog post and they will feel much less crazy.

 

Starting Over

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I’m always a little disappointed when people say they don’t believe in New Year’s resolutions. Call me Pollyannaish, but I believe in starting the new year with the intention to improve on the person I was before. Even if it means renewing my commitment to the same resolution, year after year.

Here’s why. After years of practicing and teaching mindfulness and self-compassion, and helping people choose goals that are actually in their control, I’ve come to realize that we don’t have control over a lot of things. Our genes. Our upbringing. The circumstances we find ourselves in. The behavior of others. None of this is in our control.

In fact, we can have the goal of being mindful and do something mindless a few minutes later. We can say I’m giving up chocolate and then eat some right before working out and get sick. (Which I did last night.) We can have the goal of working out but then decide to start tomorrow. (Which I didn’t do. I talked myself into working out. Yay!)

As intentional as I try to be, I make the same mistakes over and over. Pick ill-advised shots in tennis. Weigh myself three times in a row. Screw my sleep cycle up. Say yes instead of no.

But I don’t beat myself up over it…as much. I am more self-forgiving. Recently on my blog FB page I posted quotes from Mother Teresa, one of which says “God doesn’t require us to succeed, he only requires that you try.” I have always believed this to be true. This is how I reconcile the goal of being good with the inevitability of failure, given that we’re human. Knowing that we’re going to fail isn’t a reason not to try. It’s not about the end goal; it’s about how you choose to live your life.

I think of New Year’s resolutions as a way to embrace this philosophy, whether or not you believe in God. It’s a chance for us to decide what intention we want to begin the year with. How do we want to try to live our lives? If it happens to be the same resolution that you had last year, then that just means that your values haven’t changed.

This year my goal is to be more disciplined. Which seems simple but it applies to every aspect of my life. Disciplined in my sleep routine. In watching the ball. In practicing mindfulness. But mainly the 2 things I’m working on are strength training, because you don’t have to be athletic or talented to get in shape, and cooking, because I struggle with feeding myself.

I actually started working on these goals a few months ago. I joined the gym where Romeo works and work out at home when I can’t make it. And we started doing the Hello Fresh meals, which are expensive and a chore to cook and we’re both still hungry afterwards. But we don’t have to come up with meals on our own or grocery shop as much, and we’re becoming better cooks. And it’s harder to blow off cooking if you know you spent 20 freaking dollars on that meal.

Before I wrote this post I looked up my New Year’s resolutions for last year, and they were to focus on being mindful, compassionate, and accepting. And to write more blog posts. Being mindful, compassionate, and accepting have become a way of life for me, so I would say that I “succeeded” in those goals. But I only wrote half as many blog posts as I did in 2016. So I guess I’ll renew my commitment to blogging and see if I can improve in 2018.

No Regrets, Part 2

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Guess what? This is my 300th blog post! Woo hoo! I’ve been waiting for something really good to write about to commemorate this milestone, and I’ve finally come up with something that’s meaningful to me–learning how to live without regrets. To accept my life, exactly as it has unfolded, with all of the mistakes I’ve made along the way.

I remember the moment when the world was no longer my oyster–that I could no longer do whatever I wanted to do if I set my mind to it. After I got my Ph.D., certain doors had been closed to me because it took 6 freaking years to get it. And another year after that to get licensed. Starting all over again would be costly. Not that I could think of anything else I wanted to do. It was just the loss of having all those options that made me sad.

I felt the same way after I got divorced. Quitting my job and relying on my husband to support me was never an option, because I hated all domestic tasks, I didn’t want to have kids, and I always knew I was meant to be a psychologist. But when I realized that my income had been cut to less than half of what it was when I was married, I felt anxious. I feared getting fired, of being financially bereft, unable to support myself. Still, I chose freedom over financial security.

I’ve made some really costly mistakes. I waited forever before I was willing to try meds, and I kept going off of them even though I got depressed every time. The last time was so bad that I went to bed every night terrified that I would be too depressed to make it into work the next day. I would lie on the couch for hours, trying to endure the pain of existing. I was so indecisive that I would cry, trying to decide whether or not I should go play tennis. Tennis! I impatiently waited every day for the meds that I restarted to kick in and provide me a little bit of relief. I’ll never stop taking them again, because I don’t think I could survive another depressive episode.

I’ve stayed in really horrible relationships because I was afraid to be alone. I felt ashamed about this, and I knew people judged me for it, but being alone seemed like it would be worse than being miserable. Now I realize that the problem with not being alone isn’t that it made me a bad or weak person. The problem is that it has taken me a really long time to distinguish my feelings from someone else’s. To figure out how to care for myself, give myself what I need. To realize that I am enough, all by myself. I wish I had learned this sooner, but I was too afraid of rejection and abandonment to be able to envision personal growth.

I have been so bad at saying no to people that I crashed and burned all the time and then wondered why I was so depressed and tired. I thought my job was to give other people what they wanted, no matter what it cost me. Otherwise I was a bad person. Or people wouldn’t like me. Or they would change their minds, decide that I wasn’t worth having in their lives. I had to be indispensable to be worthwhile.

It’s not so much that I am glad that things turned out exactly as they did. It’s more that I can’t go back and change anything, even if it could have made my life better. I can’t beat myself up anymore over all those mistakes and add the pain of regret on top of the pain of life itself. That’s what practicing self-acceptance, mindfulness, and self-compassion have taught me.

I am where I am now in part because I started this blog. Because I’ve written 300 posts and shared all of these struggles with whoever was willing to listen. It has helped so much for people to respond and say, thank you for voicing my own experience. Thank you for being who you are, for making the same mistakes that I have made, for showing me that it’s OK to be who I am. Starting this blog has been one of the best decisions I have ever made, and it has given me back far more than I have given. So thanks for reading and inspiring me to keep at it.

Four Years Later…

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My blog is 4 years old today! Can you believe it? That is a lot of writing. And a lot of self-disclosure. I’m relieved that you have to sort through almost 300 posts to get to some of the more personal ones. If you’re that dedicated to my blog, then you’re entitled to hear my deep, dark secrets. The ones I’ve written about, at least.

Like the title of my blog says, my goal has been to practice self-acceptance. To accept that I don’t have to try to fit myself into some narrow definition of what it means to be normal. And I think I’ve come a long way. I’m kinder to myself and others. I’m more accepting of the curve balls that life throws at me. I worry less about the future and other things I can’t control.

Patience is still not one of my strong points. It drives me crazy how slowly change occurs. I went to a meditation conference this summer and the presenter said some quote about how changing ourselves through mindfulness is like changing a mountain with a feather or something really soft. I can’t remember exactly what he said, but I remember thinking, seriously? It takes that long? Why not just blow the freaking thing up? I need progress and I need it now, gosh darn it!

But I guess we’ve seen what happens when our strategy is to blow up the things that we want to change. So I’m slowly learning what my mind and body need, how to soothe myself, to set boundaries, to say no. I try to pace myself, to be realistic about what I can accomplish, to accept all my feelings and flaws. But I make a lot of mistakes. So I also practice forgiveness, remind myself that I’m doing the best that I can.

I’m still not in a relationship, which sometimes feels like an accomplishment and sometimes a failure. But I guess it’s not something I’m graded on. I’m proud of myself for breaking the pattern of needing to be in a relationship, no matter how unhealthy it was, as though my life depended on it. I haven’t given up hope on the possibility of finding a healthy one. But it’s difficult to imagine how I can carve new neuronal pathways in the Grand Canyon of my mind. I don’t want to keep going down all of those well-traveled routes that have led to so much heartache. In the meantime, spending time with my friends and playing tennis will have to suffice.

Living with my brother has helped with practicing mindfulness and gratitude. I feel especially thankful that he has taken over most of the cooking responsibilities. It allowed me to come home last Monday night after a weekend of tennis at sectionals and a full day of clients and go to bed early without worrying about what and how I was going to eat. So even though I took him in a year ago to take care of him, he is taking care of me, as well. A good reminder that things really do turn out OK, no matter how dire they seem at the time.

A few weeks ago, in an effort to teach her how to practice self-compassion, I told one of my clients that everything about her is ok exactly as it is. Every thought. Every feeling. Even as they change from one extreme to the other, moment to moment, day after day. Even if they don’t make any sense, last longer than she wants them to. That she can accept every flaw, forgive every weakness, because all of this is what it looks like to be human.

This would actually be a good thing to repeat to myself. My personal affirmation. I am, and will always be, a work in progress. But the more I write, the more I believe that I am ok, exactly as I am.