Saturday, December 24, 2011

A New Year Resolution

At this time of year, we make New Year Resolutions. Thinking about the next 12 months makes me nervous, however. Fortunately, I have my Recovery training to help me out.

A lot is ahead for me in the next 366 days (It’s a leap year :). I have a busy schedule, as I am in graduate school. Many changes are expected at my workplace, and I could be in store for a stressful year if the economy continues to sputter. One of my cats is 19 (need I say more?). Thinking about the year to come is overwhelming and stressful.

Yet Dr. Low reminds us to not work ourselves up in the preview. I’ve reminded myself to not allow my imagination to be on fire. Every year brings challenges—some good, some bad—and that’s part of an average life. Dr. Low says to enjoy times when they are good, but not get trapped in a vicious cycle when times are bad. Instead, focus on how we function, not how we feel, and like any average person I will muddle through.

Before my Recovery training I would have had no “game plan” for dealing with the year ahead. In fact, I would have worked myself up worrying about events that may never happen. Now I am more focused on the here and now and not working myself up over what may be.

Saturday, November 12, 2011

Life's ups and downs

I do not like to travel by airplane. Being hundreds of feet in the air makes me nervous. However, my career requires that I travel more than once a month, so I have used my Recovery training to make the experience easier.

Recently I was on a flight that became quite bumpy; the plane went up and down and left to right. It was probably the worst turbulence I’ve experienced. Needless to say, I was in a panic. My eyes were blurry; my palms were sweaty; my body shook; my mind raced. To my astonishment, the woman next to me sat calmly with her eyes closed.

After about five minutes the turbulence was over, and when I began to regroup I applied my Recovery training. I didn’t fault myself for my reaction, as Dr. Low reminds us that we shouldn’t expect to be comfortable in an uncomfortable situation. I endorsed myself for controlling my muscles (not crying during the turbulence or disturbing the composure of the woman next to me). Afterward I remarked to a few people in the office about the bumpy trip, but I did not speak about it excessively. Before Recovery I would have told everyone I met about my “horrible” flight, thereby working myself up.

I’ve also come to realize that when I worry about the plane crashing I’m making a bid to be exceptional. There are hundreds if not thousands of flights every day across the world, and only rarely does a plane encounter trouble (and even more rarely it crashes). Instead of worrying about an exceptional event, I need to focus on the average flying experience. There will be some bumps, and some flights will be smoother than others. But overall I should not give into temper every time the plane encounters some rough air.

To help me with this, I’ve been practicing forced objectivity. For example, when I’m flying I listen to music, watch a video, or read. This way a lot of the little bumps go unnoticed—and my mental health is better for it.

Sunday, October 30, 2011

Handling a triviality

In one of my classes I received a less-than-stellar grade on a group assignment. At first, I began to work myself up. My pulse quickened; my mind raced; and I began to blame myself. I had thought we had done an average, if not above average, job but the professor disagreed.

I remained in temper for several hours. I did spot that to talk it up is to work it up and avoided bringing up my disappointment with others. I avoided apologizing to other group members as excessive apologizing is a form of temper.

I have spotted that my imagination was on fire, and I have been taking steps to practice forced objectivity so I do not dwell on this triviality. I’m endorsing for my efforts.

Before Recovery, I would have called up many people to analyze this grade for hours on end. Now I know better. This is a triviality and not worth working myself up over.

Saturday, October 8, 2011

A super spot

I recently began pursuing a master’s degree. After turning in one of my first assignments, the professor posted tips on how to answer some of the questions. That’s when I began to work myself up. Oh, there was plenty of time to submit a revision, but I began to work myself up over making the changes. I needed to adjust only a few answers, but I felt compelled to review all of my work. I wanted to double check all of the answers, not just those few I needed to change based on the professor’s advice. My mind started to race; my pulse quickened; and my eyes became blurry.

Then I spotted that I was facing a triviality, and that there was no need to review all of my work. I gave myself permission to make a mistake. I revised and resubmitted the assignment.

A few moments later I had a “eureka” moment, what I’m calling a “super spot.” I realized that I am not pursuing a master’s degree to be tense, miserable, and in temper for the next 18 months. I am pursuing a master’s degree to better myself. The uncomfortable feelings melted away upon this realization. This is now my guiding principle whenever I encounter temper in my studies.
Before Recovery, I would have thought about the revised assignment all night, talked it up with friends, and probably triple or quadruple checked my work. Now that I have Recovery training, I feel I’m better equipped to pursue a master’s degree. And my “super spot” will help me whenever I feel the need to be perfect in my studies.

Sunday, September 4, 2011

Avoiding the symbolic victory

Our culture encourages us to “get the last word,” to air our feelings, and to express our minds. Dr. Low warns us not to buy into these notions, as doing so will lead to temper and symptoms.

For example, I recently received an e-mail from a co-worker making a statement with which I do not agree. My initial flare of temper compelled me to reply with my own opinion. After all, I believed my viewpoint was correct. I felt my skin tensing and my breathing quickening as I formulated a brilliant response.

However, I spotted that I was becoming worked up over a triviality—and there is no
right or wrong in the trivialities of everyday life. I decided to abandon the need for a symbolic victory and control my muscles by not sending a response. During this long holiday weekend I still find myself thinking about that e-mail, but I choose to focus on secure thoughts.

Before Recovery I would have replied to the e-mail. While I might have thought that my argument was sound, the ensuing back and forth would have led to a temperamental deadlock, which would have harmed “group life” (i.e., work). And I would have developed fearful temper as I awaited my co-worker’s response.

With my Recovery training I have avoided a panoply of symptoms. And for that I heartily endorse!

Saturday, August 20, 2011

When things fall apart

This week a major problem developed for me at work. I am not responsible for what happened, but the fallout could affect our business significantly. I first learned of the issue through an e-mail, and my symptoms exploded: confusion, sweaty palms, shakes, anger, fear, and despair. My mind raced as I envisioned everything I worked for crumbling as the result of something for which I had no involvement. (I’ll spare you the details; in the end, they don’t really matter.)

For the past few days it has been difficult to spot my symptoms. In fact, I don’t think I really wanted to. I allowed my mind to play out scenarios; I coddled my feelings; and I permitted my imagination to be on fire. I know how to maintain my mental health, but the situation was so overwhelming that I didn’t want to make the effort to change my thoughts.

The days ahead will reveal the final outcome/fallout of what happened, and I’m now beginning to spot that symptoms are distressing but not dangerous, that to know is to know that I DON’T know what will happen (Read that a couple times to get it). I’m making an effort to not let these symptoms overwhelm my years of hard work toward improving my mental health. I’m trying to be a realist and not let my imagination get carried away.

It’s so easy to fall into my old patterns during a crisis. Ultimately, this is a triviality in my life, but it seems so pressing and important right now. I don’t feel like endorsing but I will, because before Recovery I would not have made the effort to put my mental health first. I would have wallowed in my misery, talked about the situation to anyone who would listen (and even those who didn’t want to), and worked myself up so much that my recovery would be threatened. No matter what happens, my mental health must come first, and that realization is worth a hearty endorsement.

Thursday, August 11, 2011

Blurry vision--distressing but not dangerous

My most distressing symptom is blurry vision. Sometimes when I begin to read a thought of insecurity enters my mind (What if I am not reading “properly” and missing something important?). Then the usual, “old-friend” symptoms develop: racing heartbeat, shallow breathing and, most distressing to me, blurry vision. I have struggled mightily with this symptom for at least 10 years.

Through my Recovery training I have learned to spot these symptoms as distressing but not dangerous. By not attaching danger to the symptom and replacing insecure with secure thoughts, I have managed to decrease my level of discomfort and “limit the damage time.” Blurry vision is still my most troubling symptom, plaguing me virtually every day. Yet now when I experience the sensation I remember to endorse myself for the effort of reading and not the outcome (my so-called worry about “understanding”). Adopting a realist philosophy, I acknowledge that I am reading just fine—thus, it’s not how I feel but how I function.

Like many nervous people, I used to think I suffered alone. Even after joining Recovery I used to think that few people experienced blurry vision. I then decided to note every time Dr. Low discusses blurry vision in Mental Health Through Will-Training, and I was surprised how often his patients reported this symptom or Dr. Low discussed it: pages 61, 62, 65, 66, 102, 106, 112, 114, 174, 228, 240, 266, 290, 291, 308, 341, 376, 377, 379, 381, 382, 383, and 400. If you suffer with this sensation, you will likely find these references very useful and comforting.

Dr. Low addresses many symptoms, including a person who had a rectal itch (333) and severe belching (385). In the end, the actual symptom doesn’t really matter; I’ve found they change and evolve over time, sometimes receding while others pop up. Symptoms are like weeds. You can cut them down but unless you uproot them, they’ll keep on coming back. To people without and even those with nervous symptoms, many sensations seem foreign, strange, and bizarre, but for the sufferer they are quite real and distressing. Thankfully Dr. Low provides us with a simple but effective method for addressing all symptoms, no matter what they may be.

Reference
1. Low AA. Chapter 46: Symptoms must be attacked where they are weakest. Mental Health Through Will-Training. 3rd ed. Glencoe, Ill.: Willett, 1997.