What Does Self Loyalty Have to do with Anxiety?
Welcome back to day 2 of the self-loyalty theme.
Yesterday we talked about listening, learning, and making corrections—today, I want to talk about how self-loyalty plays a role in anxiety.
A client of mine recently pointed out how often she says, "I hate that I_____" fill in the blank. , She realized every time she said phrases like I hate that I overeat, or can't do math, she was saying to herself I hate myself, I wish I were a different person. Yikes! Amazing how cruel we can be to ourselves. Can you relate?
I have certainly had my brush with this phenomenon. One trait that I am overly critical about is my love of quiet alone time. Given a choice between a night on the couch with Doug and a party, I will almost always pick the night on the couch. I enjoy a good party from TIME to TIME, but those times are few and far between.
Years ago, my husband and I would take an annual trip to the Smoky Mountains with my parents. One night after my parents had gone to bed, my husband and I decided to check out the hotel's bonfire in the meadow behind our hotel. Upon our arrival, it was only us. We enjoyed the fire and the fantastic view of the night sky. My husband and I chatted quietly and laughed as we roasted marshmallows. Soon we saw a large group of people making their way down the hill toward the campfire. They were a loud, rowdy group made of all couples our age, and even though we had casually interacted with a few of them during our stay, they were strangers to us.
My husband, who loves chatting with strangers, immediately started talking and laughing with the people as I hung back, wishing for the time before they arrived when it was just the two of us, laughing over marshmallows.
As I sat there on the cold stone bench watching everyone laughing and talking, my Monger stepped, "You are such a freak. Why can't you relax and be social!! What is your problem? You will die alone because you are such a freak about talking to people. Look at your husband; he loves being social, and you keep him from that with your crazy anxiety."
Before I knew it, I was down the rabbit hole, and my anxiety was through the roof. My husband sensed my anxiety. We said our goodbyes and made our way back up the hill. I was quiet, trying to get out of my head and not let my anxiety win, but I was spinning with anxiety by this time. And in an all-out spiral about what a terrible person I was, how I wasn't working on changing my social abilities and therefore keeping my husband back from being more social on and on and on. The anxiety was overwhelming. I wanted to run away and hide, but instead, I crawled into bed and willed my Monger to be quiet so that I could fall asleep.
The next day I woke up with an anxiety hangover. As I stood in the shower and washed my hair, I recapped the previous night. My biggest fan said, "OK sweet pea. You are not a freak. And you are not socially inept you are an introvert. After a tough day with your parents, you were looking forward to relaxing with your husband, and the group of people surprised you—NO big deal. Yes, your husband is better at social situations—but he loves you—introvert and all. I took a long exhale and felt the warm water hitting my neck, and I softened. Arguing with the Monger NEVER works. The key is having loyalty to yourself around what she is saying.
Yes, I am an introvert. Yes, that does make social situations harder for me. AND I am not socially inept—just socially choosey.
Later that day, sitting on the porch of the hotel eating lunch, the group of couples stopped by our table to say hi. And, of course, my Monger stepped in again to share how they were only saying hi to my husband because I was such a freak. But I was able to slow down, call in the biggest fan, and practice self-loyalty.
1. I repeated to myself the words in the shower that were most impactful, "You are an introvert who is loved just as you are. Yes, I am an introvert. Yes, that does make social situations harder for me. AND I am not socially inept—just socially choosey. This is important—finding the words that resonate with you and give you the feeling of a big exhale. For me, it was important to remind myself I was loved and I am not socially inept. Maybe for you, it is important to remind yourself what you love about being introverted or that you aren't 13 years old anymore; you are an adult who can choose how to interact with people.
2. By repeating those words, I could come back to my body and remind myself to practice A.S.K. Acknowledge what you are feeling. This is where a lot of feelings came up that surprised me--it was the standard emotions that went with what my Monger was concentrating on inferior, uncomfortable, embarrassed. I was surprised that I was also sad and heartbroken when I looked deeper. That sadness had nothing to do with my social abilities; I was sad watching my aging Dad walk around the resort. All this introverted stuff was merely a safe distraction from the real source of anxiety—my Dad. He was sick, and that brought up a lot of messy emotions.
Slow Down and Get into my body—sitting at lunch, I took my feet out of my sandals and felt the ground on my bare feet. I rubbed my hands along my thighs and took some deep breaths.
Kindly pull back to see the big picture—Ok, this weekend is tough for A LOT of reasons, and anxiety is high. So let's be as kind as possible and try not to head down too many rabbit holes. Honor what is really happening.
The power of self-loyalty is when we have our own back, we can notice the Monger and prevent her from causing our anxiety to run the show.