Category Archives: Self-Acceptance

Don’t Give Up Hope. Change is Always Possible!

Posted on December 4, 2025 by Christy Barongan
Photo by Yelena from Pexels on Pexels.com

My life has changed since I read the book Divergent Mind. And since I’ve been reading Unmasking Autism, which the same Autistic client in a Ph.D. program recommended, my brain is on fire. I can feel the neurons making connections. I need less sleep. I can juggle multiple projects at the same time. I am using more of my skills, and they keep getting better. Every session has become exponentially more effective. I am in love with my life, honored and excited to fulfill God’s plan for me. Which is to free people from the prison of having to mask in a neurotypical world.

And, eventually, to learn how to fly. Like Elphaba and Neo–my two favorite neurodivergent characters.

And I am still regulated, (i.e., practicing self-care, self-soothing).

I thanked my client in session yesterday. I told her that all this change has been made possible because of her. Because she was the one teaching me about what Autism looks like in adult women, I felt I had to do my due diligence and take a deep dive into neurodivergence myself. Since I’m the one who is supposed to be helping her. But every good therapist knows that clients sometimes teach you as much, if not more, than you teach them.

I told her she changed my life for the better and clarified my purpose. So spreading this message of neurodiversity must be part of her purpose, too, since she is very effective at it.

She was pretty happy to hear this.

My client Dee, who is co-writing the book Normal in Training, has also been changed for the better by the realization that she is neurodivergent. She is also writing a blog about how this realization has helped her thrive. She’s 76 years old. As we were talking about the book a few days ago, we both mentioned that we felt smarter, if that’s possible. And it is. I’ll explain why at the end of this post.

While I was reading Unmasking Autism, the author, Devon Brice, was talking about how some of the most serious psychiatric disorders like Bipolar Disorder and Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) are often misdiagnosed because those people are neurodivergent, and the symptoms overlap. Even though he is not a clinical psychologist, he is an Autistic social psychologist and therefore knows how to take a deep dive into any topic. And everything he said about the differences between these disorders and Autism is true.

I was one of those people who was misdianosed. Because the first psychiatrist I ever saw, who I have frequently wrote about because he was so lacking in empathy, diagnosed me with bipolar II even though I was in a depressive episode when he met me and he had never actually seen me in a hypomanic episode. (And never did see me in one.) Just because my dad and one of my brothers are Bipolar I. (Now it’s actually 2 brothers, but I didn’t realize that when I was 40.)

Luckily, with the help of my therapist encouraging me to advocate for myself with my current psychiatrist, who kept putting me on antipsychotics that were turning me into a zombie, in our next appointment my psychiatrist asked me if I thought I was bipolar. Although I told her repeatedly that I didn’t think I was in the past, I simply said no. And she finally agreed and stopped the antipsychotics and put me on a different antidepressant. And I started getting better right away. After a year and a half of intense suffering.

And I still haven’t had a hypomanic episode. Even though she’s seen me in my current state. Which, admittedly, looks pretty similar to hypomania if you don’t know all of the ways people can be neurodivergent.

And since she was brave enough to reconsider my diagnosis, as soon as I read the part in Unmasking Autism about Bipolar Disorder and BPD being misdiagnosed, I left her a message in the portal saying I think she should read these 2 books so that she can make a differential diagnosis between these conditions and Autism.

To be honest, I didn’t expect much because psychiatrists are at the top of the mental health hierarchy. So why would she take advice from a lowly clinical psychologist? Even if I do know my stuff. And her stuff, too, actually.

But she did listen to me. She ordered the books right away. I know because she left me a message saying she’d look into it. And then later left me another message asking me if she had the authors correct.

So now I think even more highly of her for being humble enough to know she doesn’t know but is willing to learn.

In addition to being able to know what your strengths and weaknesses are once you realize you’re neurodivergent, there is another reason why change is possible at any age, regardless of how many times you have failed, or how many diagnoses you have. It’s called neuroplasticity.

Neuroplasticity means that the brain is capable of being rewired. So even if you are neurodivergent, which means you were born with your brain wired differently, or your brain has changed due to head trauma or aging, it is still possible to rewire your brain so that you can function in a neurotypical world.

It takes a lot of work, time, and commitment, but most of the steps are accessible to you. They are:

  1. Self-care
    • adequate sleep
    • healthy diet
    • movement
    • connection
    • pleasurable activities
    • a spiritual practice that focuses on connection with yourself, others, and something larger than yourself— like nature, the universe, or God (not necessarily religion, in which messages can be twisted by humans for evil purposes)
  2. Self-soothing
    • something that engages all 5 senses
      • sight: e.g., something pretty
      • smell: e.g., aromatherapy
      • sound: e.g., a playlist
      • touch: e.g., a hug
      • taste: e.g., a treat
    • mantras: e.g., I can do hard things. I want to practice gratitude (vs. I should be grateful).
    • gadgets: e.g., fidget spinners, stuffed animals, weighted blankets, heating pads, squishmallows
  3. Mindfulness
  4. Self-compassion
  5. Therapy (but make sure you feel a connection with them while choosing one)
  6. Medication (especially if you’re constantly in fight/flight/freeze/fake (mask), have low energy, sleep all the time, stop eating, feel apathetic, and/or have meltdowns or uncontrollable anger)
  7. Creativity (because we forget how to play, like children)
  8. Meaning and purpose (so we know that we have the power to make things happen)
  9. Surrounding yourself with people who exemplify the kind of person you want to be (perhaps starting with your therapist)

This is possible at any time, at any age, and at every reset. You just have to commit to it. Do these things, and you will first feel mentally stable. And then you will thrive. I promise.

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This is How I Roll

Posted on November 16, 2025 by Christy Barongan

One of the differences between tennis and pickleball is that in tennis you get to be all matchy-matchy. Some women in pickleball wear cute outfits, but they don’t feel the need to match from head to toe and buy multiple pairs of shoes. In tennis, even the professional men on tour like Alcaraz and Sinner match, right down to their socks and shoes.

One of my neurospicy characteristics is my OCD, so I always made everything match down to my underwear, even before I started playing tennis competitively in my early 30’s. I am a little less stringent about matching now, since I work from home and all people can see is the very top of my blouse. And I hate folding clothes so they’re just piled in a huge jumble on my guest bed. And I don’t want to spend time sorting through the pile to make sure I can find a pair of underwear that’s going to match my bra and go with my outfit.

But now that I’ve started playing tennis again, my desire to match everything has come back with a vengeance. Last Monday, I decided to wear everything in 2 shades of purple for pickleball–dark purple (my favorite) and a lighter, lavender color. I debated on whether I wanted to go so far as to get my matching purple jacket and my matching purple gloves. Would people think this is too much? A bit over the top?

Ever since I have embraced my neurodivergence, I have changed. Before, I was training to be normal, like Neo being trained by Morpheus in The Matrix, since he was reborn into the real world. I didn’t trust myself. Do I really have power? Can I really be myself? Am I really all that? Neo asks himself this question over and over again, seeking reassurance from Trinity, the Oracle, and Morpheus. The Oracle tells Neo that he’s not ready. That he’s waiting for something. Morpheus says that he needs to believe. He can only show him the path, but Neo has to walk it.

In the end, there are 2 things that help Neo realize that he’s the One. First, he believes that he can save Morpheus and risks his life doing so. Second, Trinity tells him that the Oracle told her that she would fall in love with the One, and she loves Neo, so he can’t be dead. He needs to get back up and fight. So he does. And then, suddenly, he can read the code, and he destroys the Agents effortlessly.

If you haven’t watched the Matrix, I’m sorry I spoiled it for you. But in my defense, it came out in 1999. And if you haven’t watched it yet, what are you waiting for?! This is one of the greatest movies of all time! They just made two references to it in the musical The Book of Mormons, which my family and I watched yesterday. That’s how relevant it is!

But I digress.

Now that I understand what neurodivergence means, which is that some people’s brains are wired differently, I know what my superpower is. I can feel people’s neurodivergence. I have to think about their particular skills, recalling pervious sessions with them, including details they mentioned but we never focused on. The recognition of their neurodivergence, however, is instantaneous.

When I explain to people what their superpowers are, they begin to thrive almost immediately, knowing deep down that what I’ve seen is true. Just like Morpheus knew that Neo was the One.

By the time we have our next session, they have already come up with new ways to self-soothe when they become distressed. This is the biggest problem that neurospicy people have–the neurotypical world traumatizes them on a daily, sometimes hourly, basis. But once you know how to self-regulate, you no longer have to be depressed, anxious, or have a meltdown for extended periods of time. You can do whatever you need to do to self-regulate.

And then you can thrive. Because they know themselves better than I do, once they’ve been shown how to read the code, they fly. Just like Neo. And they, too, become the Ones.

What does all this have to do with me dressing up in 2 shades of purple from head to toe, including my underwear, socks, and outerwear, you ask? Well, I no longer care what other people think of me. I’m going to do whatever makes me happy. And if you think this picture of me is too matchy-matchy, too bad. Because from now on, this is how I roll.

And this is what my bed of clothes looks like. And I still have one more load to do. Which I just put in the washing machine.

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Guess What? I’m Neurodivergent!

Posted on October 26, 2025 by Christy Barongan

I see a lot of women diagnosed with ADHD in adulthood because they had managed to compensate and succeed with considerable effort, despite having the disorder. It took a while for adults with ADHD to be noticed at all, since the stereotype of ADHD is the boy who can’t sit still in his seat and runs to the window when an ambulance passes by. But it’s even more difficult to diagnose in women because they usually don’t have the hyperactive symptoms that lead to recklessness, impulsivity, and sensation-seeking.

Now in the literature the same phenomenon is happening with people on the autism spectrum. In fact, Autism, ADHD, and Bipolar Disorder are all a part of a larger category called neurodivergence. If that word calls to mind the movie or novel Divergent, it’s actually kind of fitting. People who were different in some way were isolated and seen as a potential danger or threat to society. Not so different from what many people think now.

What’s strange, though, is that many of these women who show traits of being on the spectrum want to be formally diagnosed with Autism. I would explain to them that it wouldn’t really benefit them now because they are adults, and they no longer get accommodations, IEP’s, early intervention programs, and other resources that neurodivergent children can take advantage of. But after reading Divergent Mind, now I do. They wanted to know that their experiences are a known entity with a label and that other people share their sensitivities.

Because I have so many of these clients, I decided to read the book Divergent Mind. And it literally blew my mind. Like, I could feel the neurons in my brain firing, making connections between bits of information I have gathered throughout my life. It was like the equivalent of runner’s high, but a kind of intellectual high that you get when you have a Eureka moment. Or like Neo in the Matrix when he could finally read the code.

Nerenberg describes neurodivergence as simply cognitive differences rather than mental disorders. And there are lots of characteristics of neurodivergence that aren’t considered abnormal but make it difficult for people to navigate the world, nonetheless. Often they are diagnosed with depression or anxiety, because living in a neurotypical world sucks the life out of them. Or they are in a constant hypervigilant state.

The geniuses I went to high school with (you know who you are) are also neurodivergent. But since it’s not a bad thing to be brilliant, no one includes them in this category.

I kind of figured my whole family was neurodivergent, because half of them have bipolar disorder and the other half have anxiety. Some of them have both. I have known for some time that I am a highly sensitive person (HSP) because I read The Highly Sensitive Person decades ago.

In particular, I have mirror synesthesia. I can’t watch horror films because when someone’s arm gets cut off with a chainsaw, it hurts my arm. And I don’t like reading or watching anything that depicts the Holocaust in great detail, because their pain overwhelms me.

I also have a sensory processing disorder (SPD). My brother once told me I had supersonic smell. I don’t like the tickers on ESPN because I get distracted by them and stop watching the game. I don’t like hugs. I’m constantly adjusting the volume on the TV because music makes it louder.

I have insensitivities in proprioception, which means I have difficulty judging my body in space. Consequently, I have bruises all over my arms and legs and have no idea where they came from. Or perhaps because of my sensitivities I don’t have enough bandwidth to calculate my dimensions in space.

I have the same problem with interoception, which is why hunger and depression feel the same to me. And anxiety and having to pee feel the same. I tighten all my muscles when I’m concentrating even if those muscles aren’t needed when I’m playing a song with one finger on Duolingo.

None of these things are necessarily disorders. In fact, Nerenberg refers to them as potential superpowers—IF someone can learn what their sensitives are and learn how to self-sooth when they feel overwhelmed.

Medication and therapy can be helpful, but another possible resource that I didn’t know about is occupational therapy (OT). An occupational therapist can help you identify what your sensitivities are and develop specific coping strategies so that you don’t become overwhelmed and shut down, melt down, or stay in fight/flight/freeze.

After I found this out, I told all of my clients about this resource. Even clients who have stopped seeing me, perhaps because I couldn’t help them with their sensitivities. And I have to say, because I now recognize what my clients’ sensitivities are, or at least recognize that they become dysregulated because of some sensitivity, I feel like the knowledge itself has also become a superpower.

As a result, the mindfulness book that I told you I was going to write is going to specifically address people on the spectrum. Because mindfulness is about being more aware of what’s going on inside you and around you. While everyone can benefit from mindfulness, perhaps people who are on the spectrum who don’t want medication and/or therapy can read this book and learn how to develop tools on their own that can help them thrive.

So stay tuned! Reserve your copy today!

Just kidding. It’s going to take a while.

But definitely check out Divergent Mind!

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Hip Recovery Update

Posted on September 12, 2025 by Christy Barongan

For those loyal readers following my hip replacement surgery, I wanted to give you an update.

Despite not playing pickleball, not being able to go to barre classes with my family, and being far less social this summer, I was in fairly good spirits until a few weeks before surgery. I had to start asking for help from my family, and I hate asking for help. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that I don’t like asking for help because I’m sensitive to rejection. My inner critic is always telling me no one cares about me, so it’s easy for me to interpret people’s actions as not caring.

In addition, my surgery got moved up by a week. To most “normal” people, that would be good news. But I had been planning for 3 months to have the surgery on a particular day, and the change required me to cancel additional appointments, cancel my friend’s visit–which I had been looking forward to all summer–and stop my pain meds immediately. Not that they were helping. But still. It required a lot of change.

I was also dreading feeling more pain than I was already experiencing, since it had become excruciating. And I was determined to do my exercises every day until the surgery. I ended up skipping my exercises the night before surgery because I had to wake up super early and by that point it seemed irrelevant.

The good news is that I was super relaxed and joking with all the staff, nurses, and doctors while I waited for my surgery. I fell asleep before they even started the anesthesia because they gave me something for anxiety. And after I could feel my legs and they made me walk, I walked effortlessly. And because they gave me an epidural, I wasn’t in pain until about 12:30 am Saturday morning.

I have to admit, the next 2 days were pretty excruciating. Mainly because I was trying to be compliant and get up and walk every hour or 2 while I was awake, and it was torture getting on and off the couch. l only used the pain meds to sleep because I was so paranoid about addiction, so mainly I sucked it up. Luckily by Monday I was good.

This was also when I had my first PT session and he said I was in the top 5% of people in recovery. And you know how I like getting A’s. He said I didn’t need to use the walker anymore and that I would be able to drive later in the week, which is 3 weeks earlier than expected. And as he predicted, by Thursday night I moved back home and by Friday I was walking unassisted and drove 3 times.

My progress has continued to improve rapidly, but because my entire body had been compensating for my hip, I have become more aware of my back pain, which had been present before the surgery but I guess I didn’t register it. But since I dove into work the second week because of my irrational fear of not having money, I had a knot in my back that I had to try to massage and stretch out 5-6 times a day. I would have much preferred to take all the time I had set aside to be off and watch the U.S. Open but the drill sergeant was not having it.

On a positive note, my friend did get to visit me over Labor Day weekend, which worked out better because I was able to walk and drive. We even went to Anakeesta, which ended up being a bust. But I made a video about it that I thought was funny, even if no one else on the trip did.

I’ve learned a lot of lessons from this experience, some of which I’ve shared on my Instagram page if you want to check them out. But I’ll share theme here, too.

  1. People care. As always, when I’m vulnerable, my inner critic is the loudest, but it is always wrong. My family took great care of me. My friend drove for me and gave me tons of positive reinforcement. My friends checked on me. Even my clients asked about me. It’s true that it is an illusion that we are separated from love. We are always connected.
  2. Pain tolerance is a mixed blessing. Had I gone to the orthopedist sooner, like 3 years ago when I had planned, perhaps I could have delayed my surgery. But if it weren’t for my determination to be as strong as possible and do the exercises for 3 months before my surgery, perhaps I wouldn’t have recovered so quickly.
  3. Patience is a virtue. I argued in a former blog post that it is not, but that’s because I was, and still am, impatient. But having to wait for hip surgery, and having to wait another 4 weeks to play is helping me practice, and I think I’m the better for it.
  4. I have much to be grateful for. It’s true that in any given moment, we can look at what we don’t have, or we can look at what we have. We can look at both, even, and perhaps that’s the better option. Rather than “bright-siding” it, which is dismissive of our pain, we acknowledge everything and then decide what in this moment we want to focus on. Right now, the thing that keeps me going is the hope that I can play tennis again, after 6 long years of not being able to. And even if I can’t, I want to be active and see my friends again.

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I’m Taking Voice Lessons Again!

Posted on July 28, 2025 by Christy Barongan
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

So you know how much I love Karaoke. I am still singing, but my range is shot because of the damage done by my GERD (acid reflux) and some medications I was taking for 15 years (more on that in next post). Although the fundoplication surgery combined with compliance with my inhaler when exercising has really helped with my asthma and throwing up, my range hasn’t improved much.

I have debated on taking voice lessons over the past year because I see how much my friend Michelle and my niece Sadie have improved–and especially since I have an acting contract and can deduct the cost of the lessons–but I still thought it was a waste. It’s not like I sing for a living. My family and friends don’t care if I can’t hit the high notes when we sing Karaoke.

Luckily my family, friend, and niece wouldn’t let me give up. When I asked my brother if it made sense to get lessons if you had a broken instrument, he said that you can still improve the sound that you get from it. Michelle said that I just need to access my head voice for my high notes and that can be learned. And Sadie, the relentless optimist, said I won’t know unless I try. Plus she thinks I can be friends with Deanna, her voice instructor, and she’s always worried about me having friends because my closest friends are all in Roanoke.

So one day, I decided to research whether you can heal your vocal cords from GERD, and it turns out that you can with voice therapy. I figured voice therapy might not be that different from singing lessons, so I contacted Deanna and asked her if the two were similar. Not only did she say they were similar, but she also struggles with GERD and asthma and has learned to alter her techniques to accommodate these issues. So I was sold after that!

I’ve had 4 or 5 lessons now and already my range has improved, although the strength of my voice is still weak. The most amazing thing I’ve learned iis that the reason why I haven’t been able to sing high notes is that my tongue, vocal cords, throat, and larynx have been traumatized from all the throwing up. So essentially, I’m doing trauma therapy. I do exactly what I do with clients but with the focus on my tongue, jaw, neck, and throat. I am training these muscles to relax. Tell the muscles that they’re safe. We’re just releasing sound and air now.

The other thing that voice lessons have taught me is that I’m too hard on myself. I push until my body can’t take it anymore. A bunch of my loyal readers have told me that I’m too hard on myself but it’s hard to let myself off the hook. It’s hard to accept that I can go easy on myself, despite all the self-compassion practice. Although it’s much better than it was when I started this blog.

In lessons, I’m always trying to force the notes out rather than allow them to come out. Very similar to language used in mindfulness–allow, soften, create space, play. This also applies to why I need hip surgery. Because when my hip started hurting 10 years ago, it never occurred to me that I could have arthritis so I never went to the doctor. By the time I found out in January, I was already at the point that I needed hip replacement surgery.

Oh well. Old habits die hard so I’m trying to have compassion for myself. Pushing myself helped me to accomplish a lot of things, and it was the only tool I had in my tool box at that time. But practicing mindfulness and self-compassion have given me so many more tools, and taking voice lessons is helping me practice these tools in a different way.

And because I’ve also added the lovingkindness practice, I’ve finally discovered how to be happy in the present, in this moment. Even when I’m in pain, with little contact with anyone, and without being able to play pickleball.

The choice is ours to free ourselves from the obstacles we create in our minds. Luckily I have God, my family, my friend, Deanna, and myself to thank for this newfound freedom. And if there’s anything that you think is holding you back, it’s not too late for you to be free, either.

By the way, Deanna gives Zoom lessons and also teaches acting, so if you’re interested in working with her, let me know.

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Birthday Reflections, Part 2

Posted on June 16, 2025 by Christy Barongan

You know how people ask you how you feel to be a year older and you usually say the same? Well this year I felt great! And I haven’t felt great in a long time. Which is why I haven’t written a blog post about myself for a few years. So I figured it was time for an update.

It’s been almost 4 years since I’ve moved, and it has taken a long time for me to feel like myself again. Like, in the past few months I had gone through a long depressive episode that was the worst I had ever experienced. And I was already feeling pretty bad, since I moved because I was under so much stress I thought I was going to die before I got to retirement age. So to think that things were going to get better and instead have them get worse for 2-3 years really made me question my relentless optimism.

But I still pushed myself to make a life here–without friends who I considered family, without tennis, which was my life, without financial security, and without a partner. I did lots of things out of my comfort zone. I went to Meetups. I forced myself to go to fitness classes. I started playing pickleball even though I sucked at it. I went on dating apps even though I hated it.

The only things that were successful were pickleball and dating apps. I have made some good friends now, and I met someone who I’m still seeing. He’s a lot younger than me, which was hard to reconcile at first, but now it actually helps me feel younger. In my first birthday blog post I said that I didn’t feel that mature, and I still kinda don’t. Maybe it’s because I am so in touch with my inner child. I don’t know if the relationship is going to last, but I’m becoming more comfortable with not knowing and just accepting what is.

I’m also trying a lot of new things this year, which is also helping me feel more joyful. I’m into Lego flower sets, in addition to my other hobbies. I signed an acting contract with a local talent agency in December and last month I signed a contract as a UGC creator, despite not having any acting experience or not knowing what a UGC creator was. So it’s been an interesting journey. I’m not expecting to make a lot of money, but it gives me other ways to express myself and be creative. And just to see what happens without any expectations.

For my birthday, one good friend came down to visit me, another good friend sent me a meal, the guy I’m seeing came down to surprise me, and I celebrated dinner with my family and with one of my pickleball groups. So I ate well for several days. And all of the Happy Birthday wishes really moved me. I feel so grateful that people took out time to wish me happy birthday. Sometimes several times. Although that might have been an accident. I do that, too. Now I understand what senior moments are. Or what I like to call brain farts.

The other evidence that I’m getting older is that I’m scheduled for hip replacement surgery on August 21. I’ve obviously had arthritis for decades, and I knew my hip was hurting, but I didn’t realize how advanced it was until I fell while playing pickleball back in January. We were going to Disney World in February and I was going to have to walk 20,000 steps a day, so I decided to go to an orthopedic doctor. For some reason, it never occurred to me that the pain could be arthritis. Even more shocking was that it was so advanced that he didn’t think the injection would help and that I would need hip surgery soon. I didn’t believe him but he was right. The first injection lasted just short of 3 months, and the 2nd injection didn’t work at all.

Despite these telltale signs of aging, I’m still in pretty good spirits about it. The prognosis looks good. I should be able to return to pickleball pretty quickly. And I have people to look after me while I’m healing. Financial insecurity and not having anyone to rely on have been 2 of the biggest anxieties of late. It turns out I don’t have to worry about either. For now.

But that is another place where I’m trying to practice mindfulness and be in the moment. My favorite quote is that mindfulness is the process of constantly letting go. Maybe one of the reasons I started practicing is because I knew it was going to be hard to let go of all of the things you lose in life. And to accept all of the things that I had already lost. Plus I wanted to be aware of all of the things I still have to be thankful for. And since I’ve started practicing lovingkindness as well, I’m better able to feel other people’s love rather than question it, worry about losing it, or be anxious about not being loved at all.

I also mentioned in my first birthday blog post that having people read my blog was a gift that I had not anticipated. People would tell me how much it meant to them, when I was just sharing the things that made me feel so flawed. I had no idea how great that would feel. Now I only write occasionally, but people still read my blog, even though I do nothing to promote it anymore. And I’m thankful for that, too.

So brain farts and hip replacement surgery vs. all of the love and new experiences I have in my life. I’ll take that ratio. And speaking of numbers, 56 is divisible by 2 and 7, and is therefore not a prime number. If you read my first birthday post, you know how I feel about prime numbers.

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Can We Really Learn From the Past?

Posted on March 19, 2025 by Christy Barongan

We are facing a difficult time in American history. A time that is eerily similar to previous periods of history where lots of bad things happened–in our country and around the world. People often say that we study history so that we can avoid repeating it. But I’m not sure that’s a given. Take the Bible, for example. In Genesis we learn early on about a sibling rivalry that turned murderous. And when God asked Cain where his brother was, he asked sarcastiically if he was his brother’s keeper. So murdering of family members, denial, lies, and gaslighting have been around for the entire existence of the human race.

Moreover, when Jesus was preaching about how to enter the kingdom of God, he did not primarily use history lessons from the Old Testament as teaching tools. He didn’t have a parable on the Ten Commandments that talked about how not killing others came from the first murder with Cain slaying his brother Abel. In fact, he primarily utilized parables about made-up people like the Prodigal Son, the Good Samaritan, and that poor guy who made a donation even though he had nothing, and therefore will more likely make it to the kingdom of God than some rich dude who donates a lot of money.

For those of you who don’t take the Bible literally or don’t see it as a historical text to be studied in this manner, I’ll use some examples from history. While it’s true that I’m no historian, I read a lot of historical fiction, and I’ve learned a lot more about history from books than I ever did in history classes. And in piecing together all the information I’ve learned from different books, it has become clear to me that war never ends. There is rarely a period of peace before we have to worry about another enemy who we eventually end up fighting.

For example, I just finished reading The Huntress, by Kate Quinn, which I highly recommend. This is not an important detail of the story, so just as a heads up, I’m not ruining anything for you. I learned from the book that after WWII, the US was not particularly concerned about bringing Nazis to justice. That was in the past, and we should just forget about it and move on. In addition, I remember from the movie Oppenheimer that even before we got involved in the war, we were much more worried about Communists. And as soon as WWII was over, we went back to snuffing out Communists. And this fear of Communism eventually led to another war, the Vietnam War, among other related wars around the world, without a whole lot of peace resulting from the war that was supposed to end all wars.

As a psychologist, I do feel confident in my observations about whether knowing about our personal history can help us from repeating our past, both from a personal perspective and from being a licensed therapist for 25 years. Spoiler alert: the short answer is yes, it’s possible, but it’s not easy, and in my opinion, not common.

A lot of psychologists have discredited Freud, the grandfather of talk therapy, but he actually made some fairly astute observations, in addition to his wacky ones. One of the astute observations was the idea of the repetition compulsion. This term refers to a pattern of behavior in which we continue to choose partners who are similar to someone from our past where the relationship didn’t go so well. Usually this person is a parent, since they are the first people we have a meaningful relationship with. Often this repetition is unconscious, and our goal, unbeknownst to us, is to have a similar relationship to the one from our past and to have it turn out better than it did the first time. We believe this will give us some sense of mastery, some assurance that it wasn’t our fault, a sense of agency, and hope that that not everyone who is broken (our parent, ourselves) is doomed to a miserable existence. Unfortunately, usually what happens in a repetition compulsion is that things turn out exactly as they did in the past, and we end up getting hurt over and over again in the exact same way.

One of the goals of therapy is to help the person see that they are making the same mistake over and over again in their choice of partner so that they can learn to choose something different and have a chance of a different outcome. But this is not easy to do. People like Cain, who hurt others and use denial, lies, and gaslighting to blame others for their mistakes, don’t usually go to therapy, and when they’re forced to go they don’t usually benefit from therapy. They don’t learn why they were so jealous in the first place, and what they can do besides murdering people when jealousy arises. So the violence usually gets repeated.

Even with the people who are sincere about wanting to change, to learn from their mistakes, change happens very slowly. Take me and my blog, for example. If you’ve been reading it all these years, then you know that I keep making the same mistakes over again, despite practicing, being in therapy, being a therapist, and writing about my experiences. Have things gotten better? Yes. I’m way better off than before I started therapy, my blog, my job, and my mindfulness practice. But it has taken a long time. And I’m still in therapy. And I still keep making the same mistakes.

Changing history is akin to making a big life change, like changing your eating and exercise habits because you’ve had a heart attack. It’s a lifelong practice that you have to work on regularly. The more effort you put in, the sooner you see results, but it will still take a while. And as soon as you stop putting in effort, you lose all your progress and have to start over again.

So can we learn from our mistakes and keep from repeating history? Yes, but it will require hard work. And we all have to be on board, because like in the military or as a member of a sports team, one person’s mistake makes the whole group suffer.

Going back to the Bible, the best way to start is by taking Jesus’s non-historical advice: rather than looking at the speck in your brother’s eye, pay attention to the log in your own eye. In other words, spend less time worrying about what’s wrong with what other people are doing and think about how you can free yourself from your own mistakes.

P.S. For a closer read on the sibling rivalry between Cain and Abel, check out John Steinbeck’s East of Eden.

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Lovingkindness Experiment: Month 1

Posted on August 5, 2024 by Christy Barongan

Since my announcement that I am offering a group lovingkindness meditation once a week to anyone who is interested, I’ve had 5 meditation sessions so far with varying numbers of people attending. I wasn’t really sure what to expect, and so far the group meditation has been small in number but powerful in impact. Here are some of the things I’ve witnessed so far:

  1. It really works. I’ve been doing the lovingkindness meditation on my own for several months and I can already tell it’s changing me. Like, one day I was lost in this huge medical complex and couldn’t figure out what building I was supposed to go to for my appointment. When I parked and got out of my car, after driving the entire perimeter of the complex, I looked around and thought, wow, so many people hurting in this small space. So I decided to send out lovingkindness to everyone in the area. It was just a spur or the moment thing. I had even forgotten that I had done it until much letter. But lately, I’ve had the urge to do that sort of thing.
  2. It’s even more powerful with others. I know Jesus said something like “when 2 or more are gathered together in my name…” something happens. Maybe it’s something like your prayers will be answered, but I don’t necessarily believe that all prayers are answered. Like God is a genie in a bottle or something. But I think when people come together for loving purposes, the love is magnified. A synergistic effect. Like mixing benzos with alcohol. But don’t do that. That’s bad for you. Come to the meditation instead and see what it’s like to feel the power of love magnified.
  3. We can ease our own pain. I decided on a whim that rather than just focusing on the lovingkindness I would start with a breathing meditation and body scan just to give people the feel of what a full meditation is like. After the first session, the people who had attended that session acknowledged that they had all been experiencing chronic pain but by the end of the meditation it was gone. Not forever, of course. But that’s why it’s called a practice. Check in with yourself every now and then. Send comfort to where you feel pain. It will make you feel better.
  4. It’s getting easier to “love my enemy.” This step is one of the hardest parts of the practice–sending lovingkindness to someone who you find difficult to love. Perhaps because they’ve hurt you, someone you care about, or people in general. But people who hurt are hurting, and if they weren’t hurting they might be lifting others up instead, as this group has committed to do. Sometimes you have to send them different gifts. Maybe things like, may they feel compassion. May they be self-aware. May they feel their feelings. These are, after all, the things that help people in therapy.
  5. I will show up for myself. In my first post, I said that even if only one person shows up, I will meditate with them. It has never been the case yet that no one has shown up, but if that happens, I’ve decided that I’m going to do the lovingkindness meditation anyway and send the recording out to people on the list. Maybe no one will listen, but maybe someone will and it will make a difference. And ultimately, the practice is for me first and foremost. So I will show up for myself every week.

I’m continuing to do the weekly lovingkindness meditation, so if you were toying with the idea of joining before, you can still do so and see for yourself if it has any benefits for you. There are no obligations to stay the whole session, to speak, or to continue to participate after signing up. Just email me at cbarongan@gmail.com and let me know that you’d like the information.

Hope to see you there!

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Self-Awareness

Posted on August 4, 2022 by Christy Barongan

I recently finished reading The Tenth Circle by Jodi Picoult. It is about the sexual assault of Trixie Stone and the secrets and lies that are unveiled in her family as a result. The title is in reference to Dante’s Inferno–part 1 of the poem The Divine Comedy. If you didn’t have the pleasure of taking the class in college, I’ll give you the soundbite version. Dante’s Inferno describes nine realms of hell in which sins are rated in terms of how egregious they are. From least to worst, the sins in each realm are 1) limbo, 2) lust, 3) gluttony, 4) greed, 5) wrath, 6) heresy, 7) violence, 8) fraud, and 9) treachery.

In the novel mother, wife, and classics professor Laura Stone muses that perhaps there should be a 10th circle of hell with a sin even worse than betrayal: lying to oneself. For me, this is the most intriguing idea in the book. On the one hand, lying to ourselves seems so commonplace that it seems like it would be a minor offense, rather than something so treacherous that it that places you even deeper in hell than Lucifer in the ninth realm, half submerged in a frozen lake, suffering for eternity. But then again, it’s the people who lie to themselves about their intentions who can sleep at night even though they are causing millions of other people needless suffering. Like Putin, for example.

This theme of self-deception brings to mind another book I read recently–Dopamine Nation, by Anna Lembke. It’s about a psychiatrist’s work with people who suffer from addiction. This may seem totally unrelated to Dante’s Inferno, but hear me out. Lembke argues that the best way to overcome any addiction is through the 12 step model, with perhaps the most important step being radical honesty. Robert Brault said “every lie is two lies, the lie we tell others and the lie we tell ourselves to justify it.” That is an apt description of what it’s like to be in the midst of an addiction.

Ever since I read Dopamine Nation I’ve made a more concerted effort to encourage clients and myself to engage in more radical honesty. For example, my recent breakup has been a betrayal that comes only second to my first marriage, in which my husband asking if we could have an open marriage in response to my asking him what he thought about having a baby. It’s been very, very hard to deal with feelings of hatred, resentment, jealousy, and regret that have emerged since the breakup. I feel like I’ve become a completely different person, and not someone that I find very interesting. Which is why I haven’t written.

At the same time, when I talk to my therapist about the breakup, she repeatedly tells me that she thought I was the one who broke up with him. So how can I feel so betrayed if I’m the one who ended things? I mean, I guess they can both be true, but still. There has to be some self-deception of my part. Some unwillingness to see how I contributed to the demise of the relationship. Some unwillingness to take responsibility for how I have hurt him.

So I’ve been trying to be more honest with myself about the things I haven’t wanted to see. Trying to remove the log in my own eye rather than focus on what he has done to hurt me. It is painful stuff, let me tell you. The biggest problem I’m facing is that, while lying to ourselves may be letting ourselves off the hook for our sins, the problem with radical honesty is that we run the risk of blaming ourselves for things that aren’t in our control.

I said no when he asked me if I wanted to be in a relationship. My brother was living with me and I was barely holding myself together. I had no personal space in my own home, and even though I was barely able to feed myself, now I had to make sure my brother who just had open heart surgery had healthy meals. My performance at work was suffering as a result. I had to cut back on my hours, which meant less pay, even though I had another mouth to feed. I was not in the head space to be in a relationship. But he wouldn’t take no for an answer. In moments where I tried to be radically honest, I told myself that maybe I didn’t say no often enough, convincingly enough. Maybe it was my own weakness that made me ultimately go along with it even though I wasn’t ready. But in reality, no means no.

Perhaps a more compassionate approach to radical honesty is the concept of self-awareness. Jesus and Buddha both say in their teachings that it is self-awareness that leads us to the most moral version of ourselves. Self-awareness is the goal of therapy, too. To truly acknowledge your thoughts, feelings, and motivations. To have your eyes wide open. Self-awareness means that we recognize that we aren’t better than anyone else. Any sin we can accuse others of is something that we have committed, too. Once you realize this, you understand why you can’t cast the first stone. Hence, you cannot help but have compassion for everyone, including yourself. Because we are all ultimately the same. Just trying to get through life without a road map, stumbling along, doing the best that we can.

And that’s the truth.

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Self-Care, Part 3

Posted on March 6, 2022 by Christy Barongan

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.

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