The Monster Within Part II - Understanding Your Monster

Ok, we can agree on the fact that we all feeling like losing our sh*t every now and then and it's, by definition, can be quite ugly sometimes.  I hope we can also agree on the fact that feeling like were losing our shit doesn't make us monsters, it simply makes us human.  Fine, fine, you say, but it SUCKS.  It feels terrible, sometimes we act terrible because of the feelings and then we feel even more terrible because of how we acted.  Wah wah.

BUT by understanding what's happening inside our bodies and brains when we're melting down, we put ourselves in a position to better manage our emotions when we're feeling our most monstrous.

So let's nerd out about this for a second.  Very generally speaking there is an animal part of our brains (limbic system and more specifically, amygdala) and a human part of our brains (prefrontal cortex).  The animal part is ALL FEELING and even more specifically, mostly rage and fear.  It doesn't understand time, place, person, CONTEXT.  Just feelings.

So when your toddler screams "no" at you for the 15,367th time that day or your husband walks out of the room in the middle of an argument (and you're a bit sensitive to loss), the amygdala is the part that goes CRAZY.

Remember the scene in Titanic where the water gets into enough compartments of the ship that it activates the alarm because the system has determined that it's going down?  (Don't tell me you haven't seen Titanic and don't tell me you don't love it.  Lies!!).  Horns are sounding, lights are flashing and all panic and anarchy ensue?  Well THAT is what is going on in your brain (and then body) when it feels threatened.  Seriously.

Crazy huh??

Let me refer you back to the examples that I gave.  Your toddler and husband being shits are not in fact mortal threats (though YOU may be a mortal threat to them if they keep it up ;)).  But try to tell your amygdala that.  If you are really scared or really angry, regardless of whether you could actually get dead or not, your brain goes into full on fight/flight/freeze mode, where you are literally ready to duke it out, run like hell or play dead.

Your body is being flooded by stress hormones (adrenaline and cortisol primarily) because your brain has determined that you might die.  So your blood is pumping, your heart is racing, you're possibly sweating, you might feel hot and flustered, you might even be shaking.  It's that intense (you probably already know that).

So does this sound like the ideal set up to make good decisions??  For you to be on your best behavior?  To talk to your loved ones or boss in a healthy and constructive way?

Hell no!

The part of your brain that's in charge of doing all that good stuff doesn't have enough blood to make it work!  The limbic system has taken over and you have turned into nothing more than a wild animal backed into a corner.  Physiologically speaking that is.

The take home?  This is NOT, I repeat NOT, the time to discipline your child, finish the argument with your husband, give your boss a piece of your mind, etc.  Because it will not end well, I promise.  This is when you will act like a monster while your body is being operated by the animal brain and then you will calm down, begin to operate under your human brain again and feel like a monster because of how you behaved.  And if you're anything like me, you'll beat yourself up about it and rake yourself over the coals for god knows how long.

So do yourself (and your kid and your husband and your boss) a favor: take a minute to calm down.  Let the blood get back to the places it's supposed to be.  Again, maybe you need to run, or swim or do something really physical to release the energy.  Or maybe you need to rest: meditate, nap, read, etc.  Figure out what that looks like for you and do it.  And whatever you decide that is, make sure it includes a lot of deep breaths...but more on that later.

Is there a time when your animal brain has taken over?  Does this help you understand what's going on in those moments?  Let me know on my Facebook page.

The Monster Within...And How To Deal

*So let me properly set this up for you. My family and I are moving to a new house (and city) in a few weeks which, if you've moved especially, with young children, I don't have to tell you how stressful this is. My daughter went from being a 6 week old who slept through the night beautifully to a 6 month old who is up every 2 hours at night. And I'm doing a lot of work on my business right now. Soo...I'm stressed. A lot.

Fast forward to a Sunday morning. We had just come back from breakfast and my baby was overdue for a nap but she will not go down. And this is like any other minute of every other day and they just all run together in one frustrating mess of half memories. This is nothing new by a long shot. And yet the anger I experienced felt very new.

No, it wasn't anger...it was rage.  And it wasn't just in my head or heart the way my feelings usually are.

It was in my body.

I wanted to kick something, hit something, scream at someone. Get the rage OUT of my body because it felt intolerable. I was crawling out of my skin.  I felt like an absolute monster/crazy person/some other terrible word for myself (which gave me a lot of empathy for my poor toddler who feels this way several times a day but I digress).

So as I was walking around trying to breathe and calm down (while I had safely placed my baby in her crib, I should add) I started to think about what I needed to do to actively cope instead of merely survive this moment. I decided I would go for a run as soon as my husband and son got home. No sooner than having that healthy, adaptive though, I immediately came up with 100 reasons why I couldn't do that: "You're being crazy", "Don't be so dramatic", "You have so much stuff you actually HAVE to do...what makes you think you should be able to go for a run??".

But the rational, kind part of myself reminded me that I can't take care of anyone or anything else until I take care of myself. So I put on my running clothes, laced up my shoes, and impatiently waited for my husband to come home.  And then I actually left.

Breathe.

Now I'm running, sprinting actually. I could stomp the ground as hard as I wanted, pump my arms and legs as fast as I could...and it felt good. But the tears came then. Rage tears, hot and wet on my face, blurring my eyes as I ran down the sidewalk.   But I let myself cry.  If I bumped into a fire hydrant because I couldn't really see, so what!  (I didn't - whew!)  If a passerby thought I should be institutionalized, who cares!  I cried and cried and cried as I sprinted through my neighborhood.  And slowly the lump in my throat that only existed because I had been fighting my emotion went away.

Breathe.

I kept running. Disgust is what came up next. Disgust at myself. That I could let myself get that angry. That I could feel that rageful toward people that I love, that (for the most part) have done nothing wrong.  That I could have my freakin' doctorate in feelings and still not be able to manage my own.  The intense anger felt SO TERRIBLE and it was hard to believe, awful to believe, that I was capable of feeling that way.

But at some point I noticed that compassionate part of myself starting to whisper about being human. Started reminding me of the enormous amount of pressure and stress that I'm currently facing and when you add total and complete sleep deprivation to that picture, anyone might feel some of what I had been feeling in that moment at my home. Or maybe they wouldn't feel what I was feeling but they would feel SOMETHING. Simply having unpleasant thoughts and feelings doesn't make me a monster, it's what I do with them that counts. And I was running. I could've been doing a lot of other not great things, but I was running.  So maybe I wasn't so bad after all.

Breathe.

I kept running and I started to fatigue from the sprinting. I could feel the anger draining from my body as my muscles finally began to tire.  So I stopped to walk and think. Think about what I was doing.  I didn't want to simply experience the feelings, I wanted to think about my thoughts and my feelings so that I could understand them. So I could later explain them to my aunt and husband who were waiting for me at home, undoubtedly wondering what the hell was going on. And I wanted to be able to explain it to you.

But then I noticed that when I stopped to think, some of the anger bubbled back up as I was walking. So I figured I should write about everything to better understand it. So I stopped in a park and sat in the grass, enjoying the beautiful fall weather while tears spilled down my cheeks, again, (I'm a cry-er, what can I say??) and let my thumbs fly across my phone screen writing all of this down.

Breathe.

So what's the take away?  What can you and I both learn from my mess of a morning.  Several things I hope.

1) When you are melting down, however that looks for you, you are not a monster/crazy/substitute some other terrible word about yourself. You are human. You are having a hard time. And you feel things. And sometimes those feelings are intense or feel intolerable.  But that's human too.

2) When you find yourself melting down, you need to actively cope. That sounds like me saying something incredibly obvious - did you know water is wet?? - but when we're feeling something really intensely, we often forget to cope. We start to spin around in our heads and all we can think about is the possibility of going down the drain - being sucked into these terrible feelings - so we fight it and freak out and we sometimes forget to cope. So run. Or meditate. Get a massage. Ask for a hug. Write. Breathe. Something. Just remind yourself that you are not crazy and Do. Something.

3) It's necessary to do something to actively deal with the feelings but often this isn't enough. Catharsis - getting energy out - is typically not enough to deal with it and ultimately feel better. We have to think about it, make meaning of it, understand it. That's why every time I would slow down during my run, the anger would bubble back up - because I was still thinking about my stressors in the same unhelpful, inaccurate way ("What the hell is wrong with my baby?!?!, "I want to kill my husband!!!", etc).  I needed to THINK through what happened, understand it differently ("Nothing is wrong with my baby - she's just a baby"; "My husband is stressed and human too") in order to actually feel better and move past it.

And here's the final take away, which will be familiar to those of you who follow my blog or know me. Now would be the time that I post this and immediately old fears come up. Cue the worry: "But my family and friends might worry about me", "My clients, current or future, might think I'm crazy"; "What if I am kinda crazy??".  And then the kind, compassionate, wise part of myself starts to whisper again about vulnerability. About how what ultimately connects us as humans being more than anything else is authenticity. The courage to put ourselves out there, the good, the bad, the ugly.  Even if it's scary.

So here I am. Human, occasionally wounded....but stronger every day.

What does your monster look like?  How do you deal?  I would love to hear about it on my Facebook page 

**This was written over 2 months ago and only now am I finding the time to edit it and post.  Yeah...shit's crazy.

The Two Things You Need To Do To Survive Overwhelming Moments

I sit here typing with my newborn sleeping in her Moby strapped to my chest and my toddler playing happily next to me at our kitchen table with his cloud dough and monster trucks.  It's quiet (with the exception of some Uptown Funk - who wants to listen to Sesame Street songs all day??) and everyone is content.  I feel like a Pinterest pin.  It's lovely.  Big sigh.  However, if we were to rewind and take a peek at the Friday 4 weeks ago, you would've seen a totally different picture.  My brand new baby would've been crying from her bouncer while my toddler's face turned purple screaming at me while I scrambled to meet everyone's needs and would fail over and over again at this unattainable goal.  To say that I was super overwhelmed is putting it mildly.  That was only a couple months ago.  The difference between now and then is STAGGERING.  And it made me think about how quickly we turn a problem into something bigger because of what we stack on top of it.

We all have real problems - problems that anyone would struggle with in the same situation - but often it's what we do with those problems that either makes the problems seem bigger or smaller.  The last few weeks have been hell for me - the learning curve of parenting two, especially a 3 year old and a newborn, has been steep.  But I think it would've been less painful if I hadn't thrown a bunch of my own stuff on top of it.  When #1 (L) was having a really epic tantrum, instead of just giving him and myself a break, recognizing this is just part of the process of adding another human to our family, I automatically started to worry that I wasn't handling his anger well.  Or that something was wrong with him because of how intense his anger was.  When #2 (B) would go through this insane cycle of nurse, throw up, nurse, throw up, I would worry that it would always be like this, rather than a small chapter in her very little life.

Of course I logically knew that L was just adjusting and B was simply a brand new baby and they do weird things, but emotionally it felt like it was going to be like this FOREVER.  And from that emotional place, I felt like screaming, "I can't do this!!", "What is wrong with me?", "What is wrong with THEM??", "I'm a failure!".  You get the idea.  I took this totally normal, albeit difficult, problem (the adjustment of one child to two) and turned it into 1) a character flaw in myself; 2) something permanent.

But we all do this to some extent.  We get into a fight with our husband and go to a dark place of either "I'm so f*cked up" OR "Why did I marry him?".  We screw up at our jobs and spend the rest of the worrying that we'll get fired.  We get a letter from our child's teacher saying that s/he did something bad at school and we automatically start to worry that we're terrible parents or that our child will have problems for the rest of his/her life.  Right??  We don't always do this and certain things trigger us more than others, but this cycle happens to the best of us at one time or another.  We take a totally normal, but difficult problem and make it more difficult for ourselves with shame, blame and judgment.

So how do we get out of this cycle?  Well let's be honest...to some extent, we don't :/  We're human and when difficult things happen, sometimes we're not going to deal with it exactly the way we would like.  So that's step 1: Let yourself off the hook.  Freak out a little.  Cry until you run out of tears.  Lose your temper.  Is this ideal?  Of course not...but it's human.  And you're human.  So if you spend all of your time trying to suppress your feelings and/or beating yourself up for having undesirable feelings/thoughts/reactions, you're just going to make the problem worse.  So let it happen (because it's probably going to anyway!) and give yourself grace.  There ya have it.  Step 2: Just. Breathe.  When things feel overwhelming and intolerable, when you feel like a messed up idiot, when you wonder if things will ever get better...just breathe.  Just get through that moment.  Don't worry about the next hour, let alone the next day.  Just breathe and focus on whats directly in front of you.  Because it will get better...you just have to breathe and wait patiently for that to happen.

PS - I wrote this post a couple of weeks ago and am just getting around to finishing it and posting now.  So rest assured...even when it's easier, it's still crazy ;)

How about you?  What do you do when you're feeling really overwhelmed?