Black and White: Then and Now
Well my spring break officially started for me on March 5th. That was the last time I was on campus at UH, and now with summer classes being moved online, it has proven to be the last time I will do so until the Fall. I didn't really do much that week as my family wasn't off (my mom and sister's schools, I mean) until the week after. So what began as my week of intentional relaxation in preparation for the upcoming weeks of stress, became my unintentional head start to "quarantine". I was no less than relieved to hear my spring break would be extended an additional week, I needed the rest and time to begin preparing to get back on the horse with studying to avoid getting swept away when we returned. As a devout introvert, it wasn't much of an adjustment initially: most stores and businesses remained open, the rest of my family still attending work/school, and me leaving about once a day to attend various recovery appointments and other errands. I missed being around my friends at school, but not more than I liked avoiding the commute to UH during peak morning traffic. Little did I know I would soon be longing to be on my campus no matter the drive or anywhere outside the four walls of my freshly painted bedroom. As the second week of spring break progressed, I noticed the difficultly I had making myself get out of bed a few days. I counted on the clock to tell me when I needed to do what, but, oddly enough, when there were seemingly no consequences to being late to taking a shower, there was little incentive to do so in timely fashion. I had re-downloaded Tiktok when school let out after deleting it when summer came to a close. I wanted to treat myself to some half-quality, half-garbage entertainment. I also enjoy that the content is infinite, and you have you do more work to stop it from coming than to seek out more. Being able to sit and scroll though chuckle-worthy snips of video that accommodated my short attention span only compounded my problem with making myself do anything else. I didn't feel good about this, in fact, doing so made me anxious in a cyclical manner, where staying in bed made me anxious and being anxious made me less capable of getting out of bed. When I realized this wasn't working in my favor and that spending over 6 hours on one app alone in a day wasn't gonna be helpful, especially when the news broke about online school being commenced, I did initiate a change: I deleted the app. It didn't take away the desire to numb my feelings that surfaced when the distraction of being "productive" was gone, but it did make it more difficult to do so.
I found that a lot of my thoughts that were making it so difficult to find balance were thoughts that were distorted in a way that erased all the grey areas. I either got up before the first snooze went off and followed a pre-set schedule to a T, or I was an unproductive and bad person. Some of those connections are jumps not everyone's brain makes, but many people I have talked to in this time are realizing their need for production and output in order to determine their value. It is hard to maintain a steady stream of value, though, when the only way I was capable of deeming myself worthy of so was if I basically accomplished everything on my to do list. No, 50% of it wasn't enough, let alone 40 or 30%, even if that was all my system was able to take on with every ounce of effort in me. This is what those who a) have taken any sort of introduction to psychology course or b) done their own dose of therapy are taught is called a cognitive distortion. It is a thought pattern that incorrectly represents our reality. There are around ten common ones (that I personally would say there is a lot of overlap among), including black and white thinking. I think it connects a lot to the idea of perfectionism and those who consider themselves perfectionists: "If it's not perfect, it's not good enough/bad". I have gotten better about checking this form of thinking when it comes to my productivity. I realized that by giving myself grace when I need rest and have hit my production limit (even if the limit is zero) I am creating a protective factor against burnout. Thus, I have made progress with this in the realm of my academia, but in virtually every other area of my life it still is a pattern that is second nature to me and how influences how I function in the world. As a result, my relationship with the mediocrity that black and white thinking so dramatically evades is not a good one at that.
I remember being in second grade and being told that we were about to receive our scores back for some state test we had taken for Language Arts (TAKS, I believe, for any of my native Texans reading). For context, I was seven years old at the time and aware that while I wasn't being taken out of class with a few "gifted and talented/accelerated students", I was fairly smart and wanted to do well at things I put effort into, especially when I knew others would be evaluating me in some way. I had two good friends that year whose names I still remember. One of these friends got called up to my teachers desk to hear how she had performed on the test. By the time I was walking up for my turn, I could tell my friend was pretty upset with whatever she had been told. My teacher consoled her and told her to go to the bathroom if she needed to since she had been crying. Cut to being told my own score. I think I was anxious to know, but not really worried that I had done badly. I was told my grade was surprised that it was not even a B. I want to say it was a 78, or something like that. Whatever it actually was isn't super important, I was in second grade for God's sake, I don't remember even receiving grades aside from a few times like this! I do remember how I felt after, and that is what left an impression. I felt ashamed. Deeply. I interpreted the lack of comfort offered in contrast towhead was shown to my friend before me as it was not okay for me to do poorly and that my teacher was disappointed in me. In hindsight, I am sure my interpretation was just that, an interpretation, and she likely thought not much of the grade or how I would feel about how it was delivered to me. I could't reason in that way at seven, though. I went back to my desk not far from where I was standing. I could another friend be told her grade, a friend that was also in the GT group. My teacher played it off at first by acting as if she had done badly to spook her, but then ecstatically told her she had done very well and they both celebrated together. My takeaways from these observations was that I wasn't good enough to be celebrated, I wasn't important enough to be consoled, and I just didn't matter. Sitting at my desk a knot welled up in my throat. I wanted to cry. I thought about my friend who was cared for when she was sad, but I didn't think I would be treated the same way. I felt dismissed. I know now that this wasn't an sound conclusion to come to, but it doesn't matter because, sound or not, it's how I felt my reality to be true. I went home that day fearing that my worth was less and that I was less regardless of the truth value of the thoughts that got me there.
Obviously this wasn't the sole occurrence that led me to live with the fear of being mediocre, in fact it likely just surfaced something that had been festering inside for much longer. I think I wanted to bring this experience into this place because it is a time I remember my emotions in conjunction with the story I told myself which led me to feel them.
My emotions are not explained entirely in the need to excel at something. That plays a role, but I think the fear is a more interpersonal one tied to how I worry others will perceive my self-proclaimed averageness. So not only do I feel I need to supersede my own expectations, which is fairly manageable, but there is a need to appeal to other's expectations of me and being able to prove myself in some way. The most consistent and dependable way that accomplishes all these things is being the best at whatever I think I might be doing. If I am the best, then it would be difficult for anyone to be disappointed. It feels like the safest way to not only accomplish the goals I set out for myself, but not fail to do the same for anyone else. Failing to succeed by astronomical margins in the eyes of others translates to being forgettable in my brain. It means that I won't be shown that compassion or enthusiasm like I felt deprived of that day in second grade. The problem I have run into in pursuit of this is that being the very best at something, let alone everything, is certainly not possible. So the comparison game commences in an effort to constantly evaluate how my talents and achievements stacked up to those around me. Turns out that that is a very fast train people hop on to get to the land of dissatisfaction and loneliness.
This thought pattern parallels a lot with how my eating disorder frequently sounds. Yes, there is a part of it that serves a more endogenous function. But this really isn't the driving force. If I wanted to prove to myself the things I was capable of and worthy of, disregarding others entirely, I could derive this from healthy behaviors, as I do already. But we don't live in isolated worlds. We live surrounded by other people with worlds of their own that are just as intricate as our own. I try to control how I am viewed from their eyes. Another impossible task on my daily to-do list, but one I feel more capable of by controlling how "sick" I am. A few beliefs, valid or not, that have held me back in recovery and are rooted in this theme include believing people will be forced to remember me if I am ill, believing that people won't care about my struggles if I am not "measurably" declining, and believing people have already and will continue to find me unimportant as my mental and physical health improve. The catch is, I have to do all these things while not coming off in a way that the same voices deem as being "too much". If I think I look like I am seeking attention, I am sure that people hate me for whatever reasonable thing I was sharing or doing. It is very hard to find a middle ground. I am either nauseatingly overbearing or vastly insignificant. Wavering between the two is exhausting as they both bring up intense emotions when I am in one or the other too long, and security is impossible.
Finally, in the context of our world today, living in a pandemic, I have been struggling to challenge these same patterns, for comfort and control in the unknown is what everyone tries to cling to. I asked my therapist how it was okay that I was bitching about some issues I have with eating week after week while people are literally dying and becoming homeless by the hundreds and thousands. I feel as though my problems are not valid and that I cannot be asking for help and using resources to get help when my subjective opinion is that my health "has been worse" and it thus doesn't deserve to receive care at all. I felt small and meaningless and I truly don't think my concerns were totally unfounded. I think that there are many people who are struggling more than I am right now. Yes, pain is relative, but I am not at my 10 and other people are, in fact, at their relative 10's. Why does my 7 matter? Why would my 2 matter? When I've spent so long comparing and questioning whether I was the best/most, or, if not, that I was consequently the worst/least, its hard to take the approach that I can matter and my problems can still be problems even if there are other ones of greater scope existing around me.
Glo
I found that a lot of my thoughts that were making it so difficult to find balance were thoughts that were distorted in a way that erased all the grey areas. I either got up before the first snooze went off and followed a pre-set schedule to a T, or I was an unproductive and bad person. Some of those connections are jumps not everyone's brain makes, but many people I have talked to in this time are realizing their need for production and output in order to determine their value. It is hard to maintain a steady stream of value, though, when the only way I was capable of deeming myself worthy of so was if I basically accomplished everything on my to do list. No, 50% of it wasn't enough, let alone 40 or 30%, even if that was all my system was able to take on with every ounce of effort in me. This is what those who a) have taken any sort of introduction to psychology course or b) done their own dose of therapy are taught is called a cognitive distortion. It is a thought pattern that incorrectly represents our reality. There are around ten common ones (that I personally would say there is a lot of overlap among), including black and white thinking. I think it connects a lot to the idea of perfectionism and those who consider themselves perfectionists: "If it's not perfect, it's not good enough/bad". I have gotten better about checking this form of thinking when it comes to my productivity. I realized that by giving myself grace when I need rest and have hit my production limit (even if the limit is zero) I am creating a protective factor against burnout. Thus, I have made progress with this in the realm of my academia, but in virtually every other area of my life it still is a pattern that is second nature to me and how influences how I function in the world. As a result, my relationship with the mediocrity that black and white thinking so dramatically evades is not a good one at that.
I remember being in second grade and being told that we were about to receive our scores back for some state test we had taken for Language Arts (TAKS, I believe, for any of my native Texans reading). For context, I was seven years old at the time and aware that while I wasn't being taken out of class with a few "gifted and talented/accelerated students", I was fairly smart and wanted to do well at things I put effort into, especially when I knew others would be evaluating me in some way. I had two good friends that year whose names I still remember. One of these friends got called up to my teachers desk to hear how she had performed on the test. By the time I was walking up for my turn, I could tell my friend was pretty upset with whatever she had been told. My teacher consoled her and told her to go to the bathroom if she needed to since she had been crying. Cut to being told my own score. I think I was anxious to know, but not really worried that I had done badly. I was told my grade was surprised that it was not even a B. I want to say it was a 78, or something like that. Whatever it actually was isn't super important, I was in second grade for God's sake, I don't remember even receiving grades aside from a few times like this! I do remember how I felt after, and that is what left an impression. I felt ashamed. Deeply. I interpreted the lack of comfort offered in contrast towhead was shown to my friend before me as it was not okay for me to do poorly and that my teacher was disappointed in me. In hindsight, I am sure my interpretation was just that, an interpretation, and she likely thought not much of the grade or how I would feel about how it was delivered to me. I could't reason in that way at seven, though. I went back to my desk not far from where I was standing. I could another friend be told her grade, a friend that was also in the GT group. My teacher played it off at first by acting as if she had done badly to spook her, but then ecstatically told her she had done very well and they both celebrated together. My takeaways from these observations was that I wasn't good enough to be celebrated, I wasn't important enough to be consoled, and I just didn't matter. Sitting at my desk a knot welled up in my throat. I wanted to cry. I thought about my friend who was cared for when she was sad, but I didn't think I would be treated the same way. I felt dismissed. I know now that this wasn't an sound conclusion to come to, but it doesn't matter because, sound or not, it's how I felt my reality to be true. I went home that day fearing that my worth was less and that I was less regardless of the truth value of the thoughts that got me there.
Obviously this wasn't the sole occurrence that led me to live with the fear of being mediocre, in fact it likely just surfaced something that had been festering inside for much longer. I think I wanted to bring this experience into this place because it is a time I remember my emotions in conjunction with the story I told myself which led me to feel them.
My emotions are not explained entirely in the need to excel at something. That plays a role, but I think the fear is a more interpersonal one tied to how I worry others will perceive my self-proclaimed averageness. So not only do I feel I need to supersede my own expectations, which is fairly manageable, but there is a need to appeal to other's expectations of me and being able to prove myself in some way. The most consistent and dependable way that accomplishes all these things is being the best at whatever I think I might be doing. If I am the best, then it would be difficult for anyone to be disappointed. It feels like the safest way to not only accomplish the goals I set out for myself, but not fail to do the same for anyone else. Failing to succeed by astronomical margins in the eyes of others translates to being forgettable in my brain. It means that I won't be shown that compassion or enthusiasm like I felt deprived of that day in second grade. The problem I have run into in pursuit of this is that being the very best at something, let alone everything, is certainly not possible. So the comparison game commences in an effort to constantly evaluate how my talents and achievements stacked up to those around me. Turns out that that is a very fast train people hop on to get to the land of dissatisfaction and loneliness.
This thought pattern parallels a lot with how my eating disorder frequently sounds. Yes, there is a part of it that serves a more endogenous function. But this really isn't the driving force. If I wanted to prove to myself the things I was capable of and worthy of, disregarding others entirely, I could derive this from healthy behaviors, as I do already. But we don't live in isolated worlds. We live surrounded by other people with worlds of their own that are just as intricate as our own. I try to control how I am viewed from their eyes. Another impossible task on my daily to-do list, but one I feel more capable of by controlling how "sick" I am. A few beliefs, valid or not, that have held me back in recovery and are rooted in this theme include believing people will be forced to remember me if I am ill, believing that people won't care about my struggles if I am not "measurably" declining, and believing people have already and will continue to find me unimportant as my mental and physical health improve. The catch is, I have to do all these things while not coming off in a way that the same voices deem as being "too much". If I think I look like I am seeking attention, I am sure that people hate me for whatever reasonable thing I was sharing or doing. It is very hard to find a middle ground. I am either nauseatingly overbearing or vastly insignificant. Wavering between the two is exhausting as they both bring up intense emotions when I am in one or the other too long, and security is impossible.
Finally, in the context of our world today, living in a pandemic, I have been struggling to challenge these same patterns, for comfort and control in the unknown is what everyone tries to cling to. I asked my therapist how it was okay that I was bitching about some issues I have with eating week after week while people are literally dying and becoming homeless by the hundreds and thousands. I feel as though my problems are not valid and that I cannot be asking for help and using resources to get help when my subjective opinion is that my health "has been worse" and it thus doesn't deserve to receive care at all. I felt small and meaningless and I truly don't think my concerns were totally unfounded. I think that there are many people who are struggling more than I am right now. Yes, pain is relative, but I am not at my 10 and other people are, in fact, at their relative 10's. Why does my 7 matter? Why would my 2 matter? When I've spent so long comparing and questioning whether I was the best/most, or, if not, that I was consequently the worst/least, its hard to take the approach that I can matter and my problems can still be problems even if there are other ones of greater scope existing around me.
Glo
Comments
Post a Comment