A Good Wallow
My niece called me after moving to Michigan crying. It was her first weekend away from home, and she was a mess. "I am so miserable and homesick. Was this the right choice? I don't know. My Monger has me doubting everything right now." She cried into the phone.
"Give yourself the day and let it suck. It is ok that it sucks. Just try to watch a movie and distract yourself—when your anxiety is this high and this overwhelming, embrace that it is hard and give yourself the day to regroup. Tomorrow we can problem solve and develop solutions today, just let it suck.
I felt bad saying that—maybe it was the wrong advice—maybe it would make her feel worse. "Thank you," she replied. Through sniffles and tears, she let out a big exhale. "I feel much better just knowing I don't have to be happy today. I will give myself the day to just feel sad and messy, and then tomorrow I will regroup."
Like you learned in Spiral One A.S.K. is the solution to dealing with you're anxiety—and that is the truth. AND now that we are in spiral 2, we are adding a little more nuance to this conversation.
Thinking of anxiety on a scale of 1-10, when my anxiety gets to a 9 or 10, calming myself down enough to practice A.S.K is hard, if not next to impossible. So in this nuanced version, A.S.K. is the solution to dealing with your anxiety when it is not super high.
Ironically, when my anxiety is this high, my Monger steps to tell me that I SHOULD be practicing A.S.K. "What's wrong with you? You are too lazy to practice A.S.K. when you know it helps." She sneers. She is so persistent—she even criticizes me for not doing something that helps me quiet her.
When my anxiety is at a scale of 9 or 10, all I want to do is eat a bag of Reese cups, watch the movie About Time, cry my eyes out and crawl into bed—that is ok. Tomorrow is a new day, and after acknowledging my feelings and resting, I will be able to practice A.S.K.
When my Monger comes in to beat me up for not wanting to practice A.S.K.—for not trying to heal my anxiety, I remind myself that having loyalty means I listen to myself and trust myself to practice it in the morning when my head is more clear.
Now I have two caveats.
One, it is important to be on the lookout for your BFF in this process. Let's take the example from yesterday's lesson of when I came home on a Sunday after visiting Mom, and my anxiety was at an 8 or 9. My Biggest Fan steps in and says, "Oh Sweetpea, What a day? Even if today went great, this whole process is still hard. And maybe because today went great, you were able to feel more of the whole messy process. Give yourself the day to wallow. Tomorrow will be better.". I put on the movie About Time, pour a glass of wine, grab the Reese cups and settle in. But as I sit there watching the movie, any time I start to feel anything, my BFF the voice of false self-compassion chimes in with, "Stay hopped up, numb out, and don't feel anything. That is self-care. We don't have time to lose it. Let's watch an action movie, or maybe you should call your brother so you can re-hash everything again?"
The BFF is trying to protect us from going there—from feeling anything.
So my Biggest Fan steps in to say, "Nope, numbing doesn't help. The reason this wallowing period works is that we give ourselves permission to just exist and feel whatever comes up."
The 2nd caveat is: It is possible to do a toned-down version of wallowing when my anxiety is high, and I have work to get done. This concept took me years to figure out. I thought if I was going to give myself permission to wallow, it had to be lying on the couch, watching a movie, eating Reese's, and crying. But that isn't always possible. So on the days when my anxiety is high and I can't take the day, I will give myself permission to wallow in the feelings and do my work. I give myself permission to be sad, even in public. We will talk about this more in Spiral 3, but I wanted to introduce it as a topic now.
So practice a little wallow and see how it goes this week.