The Standard of Me.

I've heard before that we could be our own harshest judge, and I think for me that is totally true.  I've begun an inward journey that includes investigating how many standards I set up through the day, expectations that I need to meet, and how often I fail.  The data is not favorable, and as a result I am anxious that I am failing as a human being.

I realized this past weekend that I do not have an overarching joy permeating into my daily life.  That is because I am constantly in threat of failure.  I'm speaking vaguely but of course I will get more specific.

When I was in high school, I had these expectations for myself that I often met or exceeded.  I had a false sense of security, and happiness.  My reasoning went, "As long as I do A, B, and C, I will feel complete."  Think of how easily this reasoning can crumble with the weight of life resting on top of it.  My senior year I went to take an AP Biology exam to earn college credit, and immediately after the test I convinced myself I had failed, and I was undone.  Hysterical.  I spent so much time fretting over the score I would receive.  It wasn't a matter of "I did my best, and it is what it is."  I couldn't accept that for the life of me.  

It turns out I scored a 5 on it, the highest mark you could receive.  (And guess what?  Jesus' words of wisdom to not worry because it doesn't add ONE hour to your life rang a bit more true.)  I probably illogically reasoned that my worrying helped me get that score.

I have these 'standards' and 'expectations' in my daily life, and it doesn't take much to make me come undone.  I was too harsh with Mercy today.  The house isn't clean enough, what would my parents say if they came over?  I didn't work out and am failing in keeping my body in shape. I'm not consistent with my blog, or any writing or reading or studying.  I forgot to pay these bills today. These things become my focus, my life, and in the meantime, I miss out on living life because I am consumed with not measuring up.  It becomes this black and white issue to me, whereas I think other people are able to shrug it off.

So like I said, I am compiling this data about how I am succeeding in 'failing' by my own measure. And because I have OCD, I tend to 'spin' (as my therapist calls it) on these thoughts like no one else.

My biggest fear is now passing on this nasty habit to my kids, namely Mercy, because I see she has some similar personality patterns.  I am determined to defeat this monster of negativity and become a hero in my book for the sake of my kids.  Is that just another standard I am setting for myself?  Perhaps.  But I think as I learn to grow and give myself grace when I fail, I will in fact be winning.

Of course I will still make lists and hopes and some standards.  I'm not trying to rid myself of that.  I'm trying to change how I view myself in these situations, and to understand how God loves me through all this.  I like His standards much better, which say that mercy triumphs over judgment, and that the grace He offers is so ridiculously vast, that our failures get swallowed in the abyss of love and are no more.

Touchy Topic Tuesday: A thought or feeling?

This might only be relevant to a few of you, and it is very difficult to explain, but here goes.  (not a great way to start a blog post, if you ask me...)

I've been going to counseling lately, which has been extremely helpful even within the first three to four sessions thus far (counselor:  if you are reading this, be encouraged).

This last session was very meaty, and I left with a lot to chew on.  

I confessed to him that even though I have gotten rid of most of the OCD rituals in my life, there are still periods throughout the day where I can't do certain things because they do not "feel" right and thereby am lapsing into destructive mind patterns (meaning, OCD thought processes).  I gave an example of when I get out of bed, I feel the need to turn a certain way (yes, literally turn my body), otherwise I will have to live with an unattached feeling of dread.  Or when I lay down, if I feel like one side of my body is 'heavier' than the other so I need to turn over.

But my counselor posed a question that has challenged me:  are those 'feelings,' or are they just thoughts?

I used to wash my hands 30 to 40 times per day because I had a 'feeling' they were dirty.

I to this day rush through green lights because if I am halfway through an intersection when it turns yellow, I have a 'feeling' that something bad will happen to me.

Oh, and a common one that I think many women can relate to:  if the house is not picked up after the kids go to bed, I don't 'feel' like I can relax.

What my counselor challenged was my response to each of these, and many more, scenarios.  

Is it a feeling, or is it a thought?  There is no logical connection between this feeling and this thought.  Not doing things a certain way certainly poses no immediate, or even long-term, threat in rational-land.  But that's the problem:  I operate mostly in the irrational.

I often attach unnecessary emotion to random thoughts that I have, and irrationally tag on rules to them.  It is literally a nightmare, sometimes.  It is my automatic response, by the way.  This isn't something I choose to do.  It's not a light switch I can turn on and off.  When people tell me, "Just don't think about that," or "don't worry about it," it doesn't compute.  It's like I don't understand that.  I am literally relearning and retraining my brain how to think, and I know this is a long, tedious, and frustrating process.  I'm not saying it is impossible to overcome.  In fact, I am determined.  This is no way to live.

Am I making sense to anyone here?

Of course, I also tend to think in dichotomous terms:  it's either this, or this.  Perhaps it's a spectrum.  Whatever it is, though, mine is askew.  Whatever perceptions I have that help me to interpret life and understand how things work around me are off.  That is what I'm hoping to learn in counseling, to discern.

I think some women with postpartum issues definitely get the whole thoughts/feelings all mixed up.  A thought comes into their mind to harm their baby, and it 'feels' like an urge, therefore they come down hard on themselves, "How could you ever think such a thing!"  Or questioning why those thoughts feel so strong.  

My husband and I have a practice for my anxiety, and it is that I speak out loud the things I am feeling/thinking, and they tend to lose power.  No matter how awful it sounds, I tell him.  And my anxiety lessens because I believe that letting it fester inside the mind gives these thoughts inappropriate power, and by confessing them to someone, they lose their hold and are put in proper place.

Whew, this is a deep subject.  I am going to continue to explore this.  It still amazes me that I don't completely understand myself after all these years, and I am learning new things and ways to cope.