Tag: emotions

Self-Love: Compliments

Since we are rapidly coming up on what my daughter’s friends call Singles Awareness Day (because nothing makes you feel as acutely aware that you’re single than Valentine’s Day, you know?), I thought I’d do a short series on loving yourself.

My friend N often says, “The only proper response to a compliment is, ‘Thank you.'”

Think about the last time someone complimented you. How did you respond?

“You look nice today.”

Did you say, “Thank you“? or did you say, “Oh, no, I have this huge zit right here!” or “My hair wouldn’t do what I wanted it to” or “I hate this shirt” or “I feel fat today” or some other self-deprecating comment?

Do you know what you’re doing when you do that?

You are telling yourself that you don’t like yourself very much.

You know the affirmations we’ve talked about recently?

This would be the opposite of that.

Affirmations try to counter your negative self-talk, and not accepting compliments, in fact denying them, can undo all the work you’re trying to do with the affirmations.

Back in November, someone I know casually on another internet forum connected to me on Facebook. While we were having a conversation about how we knew each other, he said, “you were always the scary smart one.”

WTF?

“Scary smart”?

This guy is an attorney with a pretty impressive resume and rapier wit, so, you know, he’s not dumb himself.

And I know a couple of scary smart people like L, a math professor and researcher that excels at taking complex concepts and explaining them to the average person. Or S, the tax attorney that creates complicated spreadsheets to analyze test data or housing and investment trends for fun. 

I posted on my wall, well, here’s part of the conversation [I removed identifying stuff]:

Me: Someone just called me “scary smart”; I’m not sure I can live up to that.



Now, you expect your mother and sister to say complimentary stuff, but both T and G are themselves very smart, educated women whom I respect.

While I’ve been reexamining some of my inner work stuff lately, I realize that I totally do this. I mean, I deflect compliments.

M has said some very nice things about me lately, and my first, immediate emotional response is to deflect it, to deny it, to diminish it.

But by doing that, not only am I disrespecting myself, I’m disrespecting him and his opinions. 

And every time we deflect a compliment, we are saying to the person giving the compliment, “I don’t trust your judgment.”

So, from now on, when someone compliments you, how you look, how you dress, how smart you are, your parenting, your compassion, your kindness, your organizational skills, WHATEVER,  just say, “Thank you.”

And then stop for a moment and really think about what they said; take it in; LISTEN to it; repeat it to yourself; write it in your journal; do something that helps you remember it.

Because the old saw about loving yourself before you can love someone else? Totally true.

 But sometimes looking at ourselves through someone else’s eyes can help us get there.

Evolving

I had a love/hate relationship with being a technician back when I was one.

I loved working with mostly geeky guys and not being afraid of tech talk. The work was ok, I was. . . competent.

But very quickly after getting what should have been a dream job, I realized I was not happy or fulfilled. In fact, despite making more money than I ever had and living in a great apartment that I loved and being medicated, I was getting depressed. Again.

I think one reason why I was laid off that time was because of my depression. I started leaving work early or staying home because I had a headache or felt “sick”. I spent a lot of time online on a forum I was a frequent contributor to. I did my job, but half-heartedly, and I I wasn’t really comfortable with it. After 15 years, I never really became all that comfortable with it. It never felt right.

I was in touch with myself enough to realize that this meant I wasn’t supposed to be an engineer and to change my major – to math.

Math is also not a very. . . soulful, fulfilling path. It can be rather esoteric and philosophical, though.

But I really struggled with a couple of courses (abstract/modern algebra and real analysis, if you have to know).

As in, took them multiple times and celebrated a C/C- grade.

Funny, every non-math class I took, I got a B or even an A without even trying.

The math classes? My actual major? Not so much, once I hit the upper division classes.

Now, I did choose math in part because it was hard. Because I’m stubborn (or is it arrogant?) that way.

See, I can read and discuss history, philosophy, ethnic studies and a zillion other subjects on my own. But math beyond calculus? Was never going to be able to teach myself that.

Besides, we keep hearing about how the schools need teachers in STEM (science, technology, engineering and math) fields, so it should be easy to get a job, right?

Except it took me twice as long to finish the degree as I thought it would, because of depression and not working and then working and still depressed and so on and so on and so on.

But I did finish.

Then I got into a program to get my credential.

And choked on the finish line.

I WILL finish that this April, but the path here has been arduous.

And now I’m feeling like that may not be where I’m supposed to be.

Way back in the early 1990s, I considered leaving the military. I had an opportunity to leave before my time was up.

I consulted a couple of people, thinking I should be doing something metaphysical – since every time I go for any kind of reading, the reader invariably says, “You could do what I do.”

But everything at that time came back saying, “No, stay. It’s not time.”

Right now. . . I don’t know.

Things feel. . .  very strange.

Different.

Full of possibilities.

But at the same time, I don’t think I’m manic. I’m sleeping well, for one thing. (Less than four hours sleep a night is usually a pretty big indicator that I’m swinging that way).

So, I’m trying to get down as many ideas as I can, write as much as I can while this is in my head.

Maybe it’s time for something  . . . different.

I know I’m supposed to Teach.

But maybe that’s not math.

Emotion vs. Logic

I am often of two minds about a lot of things.

I call these “Emotion Brain” and “Logic Brain”.

They are quite often at odds.

My first pdoc told me that I was smart, I knew all the right things to do, and if I just listened to my mind instead of my heart I’d be just fine.

That flies in the face of all my spiritual training, which is all about “following your instincts” and “letting your heart guide you.”
But as I came to accept the bipolar diagnosis, I also had to accept that my emotions are totally fucked up and divorced from reality.
Logic Brain must reassert itself. Logic Brain must be in charge.
I realized last night that my emotions were running away with me, and I was allowing myself to just ride the tide.
But I can’t allow that to happen.
That way lies madness and I know it. That direction leads to unhealthy obsession and stupid decisions.
And much like what happened earlier in the year with my obsessive fantasies about J, I have to let go of the scenarios running in my head about M. 
I know that the reason I can’t be friends with J is that I can’t talk to him or anything without wanting to be with him. 
I’m hoping that I can reach a point where M and I are friends, or rather that I can just let a friendship happen without feeling the pressure of “what might have been?”. We knew each other when we were both emotionally vulnerable and just starting to figure out who we were. So, we have a real bond. It’s just not the magical, mystical, unreal “soul mate” bond I once thought it was.
It’s good to have friends that knew you then, or that knew a side of you that you no longer display to the world.
Much like talking to my BFF from high school, or Jerry, can help give me a better perspective on who I was, being friends with M could help me figure out who I want to be.
So, I did some journal writing last night, and some meditation, trying to inform Emotional Brain what Logic Brain has come up with. That usually takes awhile, though; Emotional Brain needs a lot of time to accept things.

Walking a labyrinth

Morse Park in Elk Grove has a stone labyrinth. I discovered this a couple of years ago when I went to a dog walk/run event with Mon a few years ago.

I’ve wanted to go back ever since, but have never made it, until today. I have a tutoring client that I saw today that lives only a couple of miles from the park. The time of day my appointment with her was during a high traffic time, and after a stressful ride down, I didn’t want to drive back in heavy traffic, so I headed to the park.

There is also fitness equipment there, and sometime I want to go back and do the circuit.

But anyway, today I just walked the labyrinth, similar to this design, as a moving meditation.

I’ve been experiencing a high level of anxiety lately, and as I was walking into the pattern, in several places, I had to stop and breathe through mounting anxiety. It seemed to take a long time to reach the center, and the pattern turned and kept going longer than I thought it would.

I relaxed when I got to the center and tried to empty my mind.

The entrance and the opening to the center face west, and you must face east when leaving.

In several cultures, the Underground/Afterlife is found in the west, where the sun sets (or metaphorically dies). This makes the east the direction of birth and rebirth.

While I did not have any visions or amazing insights, the way out (which is exactly the same as the way in) did not cause anxiety and seemed to take half the time of the way in.

Not sure what that means, as my anxiety is again rising now, several hours after the labyrinth. But I did feel better for a time.

Working through stuff

While I’m working on my fitness and weight loss journey, emotional things keep coming up.

One I’m tired of talking about except how it affects my future.

I put the OKCupid profile back up, but I’m not very encouraged. I have pics up now, and I don’t think they’re bad pics (or I wouldn’t have picked them), but now I’m not getting the level of interest from people looking at my profile as I was when I only had a pic of my legs and feet. 🙂

 A couple of weeks ago, some internet friends came out to the Bay Area for a vacation, and I drove to where they were staying. We hung out, went to Chinatown one day and introduced them to our favorite tea house.

Another day we went to Golden Gate Park and saw the rose garden and Stow Lake. Later we went to Straights Singaporean Restaurant and met several other internet friends. It was a great time! These pics were taken on that second day.

 So, yes, I’m fat/chubby/chunky. I’m honest about that. I’m still technically obese, although I’m getting close be being merely overweight. (One more inch off the waist!)

But I still think these are decent pictures. If nothing else, I’m genuinely happy in them.

Chemistry, wit, charm, passion don’t always come across with internet communication, though. I’m finding it hard to connect with anyone. Anyone that is interested in me, I’m not interested in.

And that is really the core of this problem, and goes back to the thing I don’t want to talk about any more.

I haven’t had a relationship since I was diagnosed bipolar. That’s almost thirteen years now.

My relationships prior to that were always either short and intense, or completely casual. No in-between, and only a couple had “long-term potential” in my eyes. And, obviously, even those didn’t work out.

I always met men when I was manic and almost always drunk, too. I feel like I don’t know how to do things any other way.

Which makes me wonder if I’m actually capable of having a real, intimate, long-term relationship.

When I bring this up to other people (not that I have to many), they scoff and tell me, “Of course you are!”

I’m not so sure.

If I’m completely honest about my previous relationships, only one came close to being authentically intimate. And I think that was largely due to him working hard to break down my walls. Those walls are now higher and thicker. Will anyone else have the patience to break through?

The one thing I miss about my manic times is the confidence I felt. It’s really difficult now to socialize. I get panic attacks. I feel timid.

I’m trying to break out of that. I went to an SCA event last month. Last week I went to a Pagan meetup. I’m attending Parent Group meetings at the tae kwon do school. And the above socializing with internet friends.

Right now, I’m capable of doing those things because I’m not working.

What about when I am working?

Will I withdraw again?

I think it’s likely.

My energy reserves seem to be very small/low. I don’t seem to be as capable of doing as many things as other people are. Everything exhausts me, especially if it has to do with interacting with others.

I think that’s the core reason I prefer to live alone.

And does preferring to live alone bode well for a future relationship?

I have no idea where I was intending to go with this when I started writing it. I know I had something different in mind than where it ended up, but can’t quite recall what it was. [I know, if I did the “pre-writing” note-taking and outlining, I’d be more consistant. But I don’t.]

Edited to add: Someone told me privately that they thought this post was about my weight. It’s not. I mention the weight because as I’m losing weight, emotional stuff is coming up and amplifying my insecurities. Emotional stuff that I’ve suppressed for years while I was dealing with just surviving. I have to deal with the emotional stuff now to get where I want to be. Clear as mud? 

Aaaaaaand, maybe not. . .

I took my OkCupid profile down.

I had some nice online conversations, but I didn’t want to meet any of them. And the ones that wanted to meet me were extremely creepy. (Although foot fetish guy was probably the nicest one).

Maybe online dating sites is not a good way for me to meet people, which is funny because I have several close friends that I’ve met online, and have had really open conversations with them.


Or maybe I’m not ready to date, even after over 12 years alone.

Or maybe I’m just better off by myself.