Distress tolerance

 Do you ever have one of those days where every bad decision you've made in your life just sort of piles up on you and you feel like a miserable excuse for a human being who has wasted your time on the planet and won't ever be happy because how can you deserve to be happy when you're just a giant screw up and also guilty of writing ridiculous run-on sentences?

Yeah, I'm in the midst of one of those. It's just the absolute worst.

It was brought on by a Netflix re-watch of a favorite show, of all things. I usually do this each year in January, because I find January to be the most depressing month of the year and I really enjoy this show so it kind of counteracts the misery. But I didn't do that this year, I guess because January felt more hopeful than usual, with the end of 2020 finally arriving. 



This show debuted in the fall of 2000. I had gotten married that June, and it already wasn't going well. This program aired on the evening my husband had his bowling league. It was my favorite night of the week: I watched some TV that he wouldn't enjoy, ate food that he wouldn't eat (people think I'm a picky eater, but I was downright adventurous compared to him), and most importantly didn't have to worry about being yelled at - or worse - for several hours in a row. But at that particular time, I hadn't lost all hope for my life turning out the way I had dreamed: marriage, house, children, happiness. 


This series ended right about the same time I was graduating from law school. I had gotten divorced in the interim years, found out I had a rare condition that meant I couldn't have children, been forced into bankruptcy, and basically had my life fall apart. But I had rebuilt it, earned a law degree, and knew what I wanted to do with my life. 

I've never had it hit me like this before, but this year, I'm just right back there in those times - the fall of 2000 and the spring of 2007, both filled with hope that my life was finally going to work, that I was finally going to be able to grasp some measure of success.

Both times I was wrong. 

And it's not like I can go back and fix any of this now. Those years are gone. I'm going to be 48 later this year. I live in my parents' basement - one of the ultimate cliches of being a massive underachiever. I am back doing the same job I had before I went to law school, just on the opposite side of the Mississippi and therefore with a much better salary. 

Normally, of course, I would bury these feelings under a pile of food. But I'm not doing that anymore. I made a commitment, and I'm sticking to it. 

So what I AM doing is pulling out a skill I learned in DBT (dialectical behavior therapy): self-soothing.

One of the most fun therapy homework assignments I've ever had was to make a "self-soothing kit." Our instructions were to put together a supply of items to use when feeling distress. There was supposed to be at least one things to engage each of the five senses: something nice to look at, enjoyable to listen to, good-tasting, nicely scented, and pleasing to the touch.

I still have mine, although a few of the items need to be replaced as they're out-of-date. Here are my choices:

Sight: postcards with beautiful scenery or artwork by favorite artists, especially Keith Haring

Hearing: an old iPod with playlists of songs I find to be mood-altering in a good way

Taste: some Pur gum (allowed on my eating plan) in chocolate mint, hot cinnamon spice tea bags from Harney and Sons

Smell: a roll-on vial of lavender essential oil

Touch: a super soft fuzzy sock and a scalp massager (have you tried one of those - they are amazing!)

So I continue on, still a miserable failure of a loser, but one who's not going to make it worse with a food binge.

(I'm sure this matter of feeling like a failure will pass, but that is very much how I feel today, and again, I find it necessary to be honest about such things to be successful with this whole recovery thing.)

Comments

  1. That's a really awful feeling. I'm hoping it will pass because you are FAR from being a failure. You have left an abusive marriage, graduated from law school, WROTE AND PUBLISHED A BOOK, created amazing art, done some awesome writing......This is not a DBT skill, it's an NLP skill. Watch the language you use with yourself. Example not calling yourself a miserable failure. It works often to say "I FEEL like a miserable failure, but what's real is: (fill this in for yourself), but my contribution would be Melanie has accomplished much in her first 48 years and the next 48 are going to downright amazeballs" Or "today I FEEL like a miserable failure but what's real is everything in life is a lesson, there's really no such thing as failure, just another opportunity for growth.....maybe that will help. But in the meantime I love that you are doing the self soothing, and really like your choices.

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    Replies
    1. Thank you, Sue. I appreciate this so much. I think part of the problem is that culture shock you mentioned from coming back home - mostly because now I can't easily see friends in the evening, or even over lunch on a workday. Something good to realize as I make decisions about my living situation. And I'm not familiar with NLP, so I'm going to hit up Google.

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