Did you know that our bodies respond to self-attack the way they do to a physical attack?
It’s something I’ve been thinking a lot about lately.
I’ve been dealing with chronic headaches for at least three years now. There are a few legitimate physical things that may be contributing, but they’re largely tension headaches, not migraines, so they’re largely stress-related. I try my best to deal with external stressors, but I know that, by far, the most harmful thing to my physical and mental health is my inner monologue.
I am attacking myself all day long, telling myself I’m not ___ enough. Fill in the blank.
I’d like to think I’m a kind person to others. I live by the golden rule (and believe too many people missed that day in kindergarten)—treat others how you’d like to be treated.
What if we treated ourselves…the way we’d like to be treated?
I’ve been going to physical therapy for the headaches to deal with some of the postural aspects, and I absolutely love my physical therapist. We have awesome conversations, and the other day she reminded me that the ONLY person who is with us, day in and day out, from our birth to our death, is ourself.
And if that person is an asshole to us…of course it’s going to take a toll on us. Think of when you’ve had a bad boss or been in a rough relationship. I guarantee most people will have some kind of bodily sensation reading those words and recalling that shitty person. They probably made you question yourself and if you’re a good enough employee or partner.
In a particular work situation I’m thinking of, my boss’ constant attacks on me led to me deeply second-guessing myself and actually fucking things up more because of that, thus becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy.
A few years ago, I remember my psychiatrist asking me what I thought stood in the way of me and success.
“*Myself,” I proudly answered, happy to have been the patient who was ~totally self-aware~ and ~had the right answer~.
Looking back, I give her mad props for not looking at me and going “no shit, Theodora.” (I adore her and we have a very direct relationship where it would have been totally OK and honestly, probably what I needed, for her to say that.)
*I acknowledge the privilege of my privileges in most areas other than being a woman meaning that there are significantly few factors that stand in the way of me and success than there are for other people without those privileges.
I had a lightbulb moment the other day about the phrase self-deprecation. I have an incredibly self-deprecating sense of humor/way of being. In some ways, I think it helps me connect with others—but at the cost of hurting myself.
The word deprecation made me think of depreciation—and to be honest, in my head, I’d conflated the two until I started writing this sentence. I realized they were different words and when, like a dork, I looked up the etymology, they have totally different roots…
BUT ANYWAY! Self-deprecation made me think of a depreciating asset, and we’re going to keep pretending for this argument’s sake that they’re the same.
Many people’s most financially valuable asset is their house. I do not own a house or know much about finance so maybe I will butcher this metaphor but please continue to stick with me.
If you threw paint at your house or broke your own windows, you’d eventually be depreciating the value of this asset…
And if our SELF is our biggest non-material asset…
why would we devalue it ourself?
That’s what self-attacks do. I could be a better writer or better therapist or have written that book I want to write by now if my SELF wasn’t always standing in the way
That critical self is devaluing my work by being a constant in my head that becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy by keeping me from my best work. It is devaluing my body by the way I curl in on myself with poor posture, as to not take up too much space in the world. Gritting my teeth to deal with the self-attacks. Tensing my muscles in anticipation of another attack.
My therapist once told me to hold a stop sign up in my head when I caught myself attacking myself like this. She said I should even draw a stop sign for myself. I rolled my eyes and obliged but didn’t take it seriously, but lately, I’ve been picturing that stop sign in my head at a fork in the road. I can either be nice to myself or I can be an asshole. Or I can just abandon the spiral—sometimes being nice to myself is a tall order but just stopping the self-attacks is a good step.
Eckhart Tolle’s A New Earth has been really helpful to me in recognizing that Self as a separate voice in my head. Sometimes, I am also able to stop myself and externalize that it is a Self attacking me. My therapist and I also work on deconstructing whose words I’m telling myself. Is it family? Society? Random people on the internet?
I started a “secret” Instagram a few weeks ago (secret’s out now, ha) called A Love Note for Me. A friend was having a really tough day, and I thought “aww I really need to write her a love note and cheer her up” and had the thought—why am I not doing that for myself??? I love writing in cursive and figured that I wasn’t the only one who needed to hear these things.