Posts Tagged With: fear

Day 45: Mistakes, where art thou sting?

Posted on February 14, 2013 by Ann Koplow

I woke up early this morning, with the title of this post in my head.

And I understand why.  Over the last couple of days, the few times I have felt bad, it’s been because I’ve believed that I have made …..

A MISTAKE.

(Imagine very, very scary music here) (perhaps written by Bernard Hermann, John Williams, or another film composer who has written very, very scary music.)

And I thought it was interesting that this particular title came up for me, because here is the original quote:

Oh, death, where art thou sting?

which is apparently from the bible. (I looked it up.)

So it’s interesting to me that the original quote was about death.

Because THAT’S how scary it can feel to me, when I make a mistake.

I will try to make this blog post short (although, probably, not quite as short as yesterday’s post), because I would like to go back to sleep.  I WILL try to complete it in about 30 minutes, no matter what the length.

I would just like to mention Two Dread Mistakes I’ve made in the last two days, at which I  (literally) went cold, when I realized what I had done:

Dread Mistake # 1

The day I got back to work, one of the other social workers at the hospital, named Tom, wrote an e-mail to all the other therapists there, asking if people could recommend a psychiatrist for a patient of his to see.  There was a typo in his e-mail, so instead of “I am seeking a psychiatrist for a woman,” he wrote, “I am seeing a psychiatrist for a woman.”  And I got a kick out of that, and wrote him an e-mail back, pointing that out to him.

In that e-mail I wrote him, I  also told him that I loved that typo, and it helped me, because I always felt bad after I had sent an e-mail and realized that I had made a typo.  So I told him he had made my day.  And when I sent my e-mail, I specifically made sure to send it only to him, rather than press “Reply All.”   I didn’t want to point out his mistake to everybody — that seemed snarky and ungenerous.  I just wanted to communicate with him about it.

So, later that day, my supervisor at work told me that she had received my e-mail, too.  And I couldn’t believe it. I figured that mistake was due to (1) all my Windows programs at work being updated a few days before I left, which has been confusing the hell out of me and (2) the fact that I was soooo exhausted my first day back at work.

And I felt AWFUL.  And I knew my feeling that way was all out of proportion to the Sin that I Had Committed (which was negligible).  But I just … could … not … shake … that …. feeling.   And I tried, really hard, because my supervisor told me this right before we started conducting an interview with an intern, who is going to work with me next year.

Before and after the interview, my supervisor helped me deal with my … shame, I guess, about this mistake. She knows me well enough to have seen me struggle with mistakes. And, we actually told the intern we were interviewing (who was great, by the way) about how I was worrying about this dopey mistake I had made, and how my supervisor and I — and other therapists in the department — were learning how to deal with our own perfectionism.

So, after the interview,  my supervisor and I discussed how I could feel better about this mistake I had made, of broadcasting my reply to Tom’s e-mail to dozens of other people.  I called Tom and left him a message, letting him know how I had accidentally pressed “Reply All.”

And,  he wrote me a very gracious, sweet, and funny e-mail back, telling me he liked my e-mail, that a lot of people had pointed out his mistake to him, and that it was all fine.

Dread Mistake #2

Hey!  This one relates to my blog post, from yesterday.  I wrote that post at 7 PM last night, when I was tired and hungry.  I almost titled it “The 30-minute Blog,” because I wanted to “get it over with” quickly, so I could go out to dinner.

And I DID write that post in about 30 minutes, and I felt a  feeling of satisfaction about that. And I thought the post was fine. So I was really glad when I pressed the “publish” button.

Then, at dinner, I checked the post briefly and realized …

(more scary film music, perhaps Bernard Hermann again, with shrieking violins, like from “Psycho”)

… that the post hadn’t really published, even though I had gotten the “You Published 43 Posts” message back from WordPress.

This has happened to me before.  I think if I have two windows open while I’m writing, and I publish the post from the second window I’ve opened, it doesn’t work. Instead, it saves the draft.

So I KNEW that all I needed to do was to republish the post from the saved draft, when I got home. But I HATED that I had screwed up (with a computer, again! just like with Dread Mistake #1). I pictured people who follow my blog getting an e-mail (or seeing the post published on my Facebook page), clicking the link, and then receiving an error message about an empty post ( like what I saw when I checked at dinner).

And, again, I worked hard at letting go of the bad feeling, recognizing — rationally — that I was over-reacting. I realized that,  honestly, who would care?  This was no big deal and quite fixable, within an hour or so.

So, there are my confessions, about my two dread mistakes.

And I’m letting go of shame, right now, about how I can get so upset about such trivial mistakes.

And I’m working on this, dear reader, throughout this Year of Living Non-Judgmentally.  I’m working on this, really hard.

And I’m definitely making progress.

You know, I wrote a chapter about Mistakes in the book I’m working on.  (Possible title of that chapter: “Mistakes Won’t Kill You.”)  And I talk to people about mistakes, in my work, a lot.  And I know I’m not alone in beating myself up about mistakes.

I know I’ve written about mistakes in earlier blog posts here, but you know what? I’m not going to look at my past blog posts right now and provide some links.

This post doesn’t need to be perfect.

And neither do I.

And neither do you, dear reader.

Done! Back to sleep.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Categories: personal growth | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , | 7 Comments

Day 34: Object Constancy

Posted on February 3, 2013 by Ann Koplow

“Object constancy” is a Psychological Concept which I will now try to explain.  (When I say “try to explain,” I mean that  I’m going to Google it, check to see whether the definition there matches my assumptions in the moment) (and, if I find a definition that’s good enough, steal it).

Of course, it’s risky when you go to the Internet for information.   Who knows which sources are reliable?  But here’s a definition of Object Constancy, from the GoogleSphere:

 in psychoanalysis, the relatively enduring emotional investment in another person.

That doesn’t quite “click” for me. Hold on.

Well, I’ve looked at a few, and I’m going to use this one, which — interestingly enough, defines LACK of object constancy.

Lack of object constancy is the inability to remember that people or objects are consistent, trustworthy and reliable, especially when they are out of your immediate field of vision.

Hmmm. It’s occurring to me that this definition reflects a kind of all-or-nothing thinking. I mean, look at those words: “lack.”  “inability.”

Object constancy is not usually something that human beings either have OR don’t have at all. The vast majority of us are somewhere on the scale from 0 to 100%, Object Constancy-wise.

Let me tell you why Object Constancy is the Topic Du Jour. Yesterday, I gave a party for myself, to celebrate a Big Numbered Birthday.  And I invited people to come and help me celebrate the day — people who have meant a lot to me and people who I assumed would feel comfortable being there.

And these people said some pretty incredible things to me throughout the party — face-to-face, by cards and other writings, on video messages, and during a point in the party where people sat around and shared memories. And I was trying really, really hard throughout the party to take the good stuff in.  I was trying not to get caught up in what might go wrong with the party, whether people were having a good time, whether I was being a good host, whether I seemed too self-centered in having this kind of party for myself, and the other varied menu of judgmental choices. And I was friggin’ exhausted the whole time, because I had trouble sleeping the night before. So I was trying not to judge myself for that, too. (Why didn’t you make sure you got enough sleep so you could be more present?) And I was trying not to be disappointed that I hadn’t managed to figure out how to RECORD what people were saying at certain points, so I could remember it later.

And I really wanted to record things, because I think of myself as a person who has “Poor Object Constancy.”

Which, I realize right now, is a judgmental term.

I mean, it’s the word “poor” that tipped me off, right then.

But let me tell you by what I mean by that belief about myself: People may be vivid, real, and important to me in the moment, but they can fade when I’m by myself. When I am by myself,  I can start believing that I’m not important — that I fade from their minds, too.  And even though I know on some level that there are people out there who care about me, when I’m alone and feeling scared or insecure, I have trouble accessing a sense of those connections.

I spend a lot of time, in my work, talking to people about What Sticks and What Doesn’t Stick. And I have noticed, in myself and other people, that what scares us — the negative things — do tend to stick and seem more important than the positive things.  If you’ve read other posts in this blog, you’ve probably noticed this theme coming up before. And here’s something else I’m sure I’ll write about more than once. When we’re feeling at our worst, we tend to NOT do the things that will help us feel better. Over and over again, I see people isolating when they feel worse about themselves and their lives.

The tendency of the negative to “stick.”  How people, when they are in pain, tend to isolate. Yes, I will probably write about these themes — and others —  many times throughout this Year of Living Non-Judgmentally.  Because (as the cab driver said in response to the rider asking, “How do I get to Carnegie Hall?”), practice, practice, practice.

It takes repetition and practice to let go of old ways of seeing things.

So, yesterday, I tried to practice, practice, practice throughout the party.  I tried not to judge the judging thoughts that came up for me during the party. I tried to take in the specific positive things people were telling me.  And I tried to let these very positive messages in: You are important to me. I am important to you.

When I say “important” I don’t mean “all important.”  All of us have complicated lives, and maybe we do lose track of each other here and there. But importance — like most things — is not All-Or-Nothing.

And there was a moment yesterday, when people who mean a lot to me were singing “Happy Birthday.” In that moment, I let go of all judgmental, self-conscious, and scared thoughts, looked around the room, and  thought, “Wow.”  Here are all these beautiful connections, right in the room. Here are all these wonderful faces, looking at me, and celebrating my birthday with song and with themselves. And I took a mental photo of it, filed it away, and reminded myself to Practice, Practice, Practice making that image stick.

And even if my Object Constancy is not the best — even if that image fades and maybe is hidden from me at times —  that image is still there. And I’ll practice, practice, practice making that picture more constant.

Thanks, dear reader.

Categories: personal growth | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , | 10 Comments

Day 28: Losing the investment in the outcome

Posted on January 28, 2013 by Ann Koplow

This is going to be a  short post, mostly because I had a challenging day today, which included difficult situations as well as some self-doubt.

So this is all I’m going to do right now:  I’m going to try to put into words a concept that I’ve found really helpful.

When I get caught up in worry about how something is going to turn out, I invite myself to lose my investment in the outcome.

I remind myself that being invested in the outcome  takes me out of the moment.  Being invested in a certain outcome can lead to disappointment, rather than acceptance.

This has helped me  when I’ve been in the middle of really difficult, scary situations. It’s also helped me when I care about something so much that I really, really want it to turn out well.

It helps me do the work I do, because I let go of a need for somebody else to change a certain way.  Then, I can be committed to being as present as possible with another person, exactly how they are.

I’m not at my best tonight — it’s more difficult than usual to write —  and it’s interesting that I’m choosing this time to try to communicate about something that I think is very important.

I’m sure I’ll write about it again.  For now, this was helpful, almost like visiting an old, faithful friend.

Thanks for reading.

Categories: personal growth | Tags: , , , , , , , | 24 Comments

Day 24: Nature ups the ante (and lowers the temperature)

Posted on January 24, 2013 by Ann Koplow

I just checked the temperature on my phone.

I couldn’t help but react audibly when I saw it.  I’m not sure whether I made a gasp or a moan or a strangulated whimper.  Whatever sound I made, it was in reaction to seeing this:

1°

Oh, my.

Well, here’s one way to tell THIS story. Going out this morning  will be an interesting test of what it will be like for me — the day after I wrote in this blog about how extreme weather affects my sense of safety (and when I’m still not back to baseline, health-wise).

I think writing about the extreme cold and my sense of safety yesterday is already helping. Just writing or talking about something — sharing a story, especially a previously unexpressed one — can help quite a bit, I believe. (I guess it’s good I believe that, since that’s the backbone of what I do for a living.)

And it’s also helping this morning, to share my reactions in today’s post — especially that initial, primal THUMP of dismay I felt when I saw that tiny digit on my phone.

It’s a ONE, for heaven’s sake. ONE degree.

Here it is again, in all its small starkness:

1°

(I keep thinking that some of you who are reading this, perhaps living closer to one of the Earthly Poles than I do and regularly experiencing colder temperatures, might be chuckling at my delicate whussy-ness right now, but Hey!  I think we can all bear more easily whatever we’re used to.)

So, as I was saying, it’s a ONE.  Just a smidge away from a zero.  Zero. Nothing.  (Fahrenheit, the crueler measurement of cold.)

So, yes, that scares me.  This is a situation where the  smallness of the number is bad. I’m not talking golf, blood pressure, or “bad” cholesterol,  where smaller numbers are reassuring. In this situation, numbers considerably smaller than normal are dangerous — like the realms of salaries, grades, and the heart rate of a child.

So it’s more dangerous out there, dear readers.   But as I said earlier in this post, writing about this, sharing this with you, feeling not-alone with this, is helpful, especially as I’m gearing myself up to go out and meet it.

And as I’m preparing myself right now, about to put on my layers of armor and venture into The Land of One Degree, I’m feeling …..

Like a hero, actually.

Really. (And I guess that showed up in my language, directly above.)

And rather than feeling beaten down — as I did when that fearsome  and shocking 1° popped up on my cell phone — I actually can feel a sense of excitement.

Really!

And here are some things I’m believing right now:

I can do it.

I will be okay.

Even better!

I will pass through this, triumphant.

I will beat this dastardly degree!

I mean, it’s only a puny little ONE, for heaven’s sake.

Ta-da!

Categories: personal growth | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , | 5 Comments

Day 23: 8 Degrees of Safety.

Posted on January 23, 2013 by Ann Koplow

I went back to work today, Wednesday, after being sick for four days,  and it was really, really cold outside.  It was 8 degrees, Fahrenheit, when I left the house.

I bundled up, really well, for protection. And everything went okay.  Nothing went awry. My trusty car started up, right away, even though it had sat idle since Saturday. And although I had to wait outside for a shuttle bus for a little while (my parking lot is a 20-minute walk from the hospital where I work), my bundling had done the trick. I wasn’t in too much pain during the wait. I could still really feel the cold through all the layers I’d piled on, which felt very freaky, but I was fine.

So I made it to work, no harm done.  However, I’ve noticed that whenever it’s extreme weather outside, that affects my sense of safety, even when I’m indoors.  I’m more aware of our human physical fragility, I guess. Knowing that the outside environment is considerably more hostile than usual has an effect on me.  I feel more anxious, careful, subdued, vigilant, serious.  Getting in touch with other aspects of my nature — my humor, openness, and sociability — takes more effort.  And I pretty much kept to myself, avoiding any contact with strangers, the whole day I was away from home.

I think that’s a reflection of a general “truth” for me.   The safer I feel in my environment  — the more I’m able to trust that pain is not imminent — the more I can interact freely with others, and the more in touch I can be with the “higher” parts of my nature.

This is tricky to write about, since the word “higher” implies judgment, doesn’t it?  At this moment, I’m not sure what to call those other parts of my nature — the humor, the openness, the sociability.  For some reason, I want to call those parts “vulnerable” right now.

Are they more vulnerable, though?  I feel like those parts show strength.  However, to show humor, openness, and sociability implies a trust of The Other Person, I suppose — that whomever we interact with will be accepting enough of the interpersonal effort.

So maybe showing those sociable parts implies a certain level of bravery. Whenever we interact with somebody, we risk rejection, I guess.

Hmmm. This is like an equation that I’m having trouble figuring out right now. It’s frustrating, and I’m comparing how I am right now — not feeling 100% myself, still recovering from being sick — to how I might be able to think and write when I’m feeling better. (Comparisons are another Cognitive Distortion, by the way, and I look forward to ranting and raving about THAT in a future blog post.)

Anyway, I’m going to end it here, dear reader, trusting that this post is good enough to publish today. I also hope that if you have thoughts and questions about this post, that you will feel safe enough — no matter what the weather is outside as you’re reading this — to express them, if you choose.

Thanks for reading, as always.

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Day 20: It’s not All That (or All Anything)

Posted on January 20, 2013 by Ann Koplow

I’ve started several different blog posts today, unsure about what topic I wanted to pursue. I think this topic might be “it”, though.  That is, I think this post is going to make it to “The Show”  today, rather than being delegated to the Farm Team — the Drafts bin.

This Post with Good Prospects has to do with another cognitive distortion, another “psychological epidemic” of unhelpful thinking.

Cognitive Behavioral Therapy calls this distortion “All-or-Nothing Thinking” (or “Black-and-White Thinking”)

Here’s a description,  from a hand-out I use on cognitive distortions:

All-or-Nothing Thinking (also known as “Black-and-White Thinking”)

With this distortion, things seem either all good or all bad, people are either perfect or failures, something new will either fix everything or be worthless. There is no middle ground; we place people and situations in “either/or” categories, with no shades of gray, or allowing for complexities.  Watch out for absolute words like “always”, “never,” “totally,” etc. as indications of this kind of distortion.

Boy, a lot of people have a reaction when THIS ONE comes up.  As a matter of fact, people often say this (all-or-nothing) response:

I do that ALL THE TIME.

No, they don’t.  They have other types of thoughts, too. It just SEEMS like it’s all the time. And there’s the basis of All-or-Nothing thinking.

There are shades of gray, even when we are only noticing the black and white.

The reason that All-or-Nothing thinking became The Alpha Topic today is this:   I realized that All-or-Nothing thinking was the subtext of every other topic I was considering. One of those other topics was Fears about Fragility — how we can worry about our own fragility, other people’s fragility, and the fragility of connections with others — and how this affects how we are with others.  And I realized there was some Black-and-White thinking involved there, too. I realized this had to do with All-or-Nothing thinking about people and connections    — that they are either Fragile OR Resilient, not allowing for variations and shades of gray.

Hmmmm. I’ll tell you what I’m wondering right now, dear reader.

I’m wondering if I’m being confusing. I’m wondering if I’ve lost you.

Hey! That relates to both topics, I think — black-and-white thinking and fears about the fragility of connection.

Now that I’ve noticed that, I’m going to try to challenge some possible distortions.  Want to come along?

Okay, so maybe my writing DID get more confusing above.   That doesn’t mean there’s an All-or-Nothing switch, changing this post from Coherent to Incoherent.

Or from Useful to Useless. There are degrees of usefulness, aren’t there?  This post — and every other blog post in the Great Blogosphere —  is neither Completely Useful nor Completely Useless. Different readers will take different things away, from whatever they read.

Communication, in general, is not All-or-Nothing.  No matter what the form of communication — in blogs, in person, in writing, in speech — there’s no perfect communication of meaning. (In order to attain that, we’d all have to be mind-readers.)   There are so many shades of gray there — so many shifting variations and levels of understanding and being understood.

And if I did “lose” you, dear reader, that was — most likely — momentarily. Connections — of understanding, between people — don’t have to be perfect. There’s room for variation, for shifting degrees of engagement and disengagement.

Okay!  Thanks for reading. Because even though this blog post wasn’t All Coherent or All Useful or All Anything, it is this:

All done.

Categories: personal growth | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

Day 19: sleep, Judgment and fears about

Posted on January 19, 2013 by Ann Koplow

I would say (and I am going to try to use non-judgmental language here) that I have a challenging relationship with sleep.

It might be hereditary, because my son, from when he was a little boy, has talked about sleep in interesting ways.  Sometimes he sounds like he thinks sleep is his enemy.  “I don’t want to sleep.”  “Sleep is a waste of time.” “I feel better when I get less sleep.”  “Why can’t I stay up all night?  I’ll feel better if I do.”  I talk to him about how humans need sleep and how sleep is one of the most important ways to nourish and take care of ourselves, even though he may not believe it.

And I believe what I say to my son about sleep.  I really do!

However, it is undeniable that I have a challenging relationship with sleep.  I rarely get enough sleep.  I don’t fall asleep easily.  Whenever I wake up and  start thinking, uneasy thoughts usually creep in, almost immediately. (See Day 17 for a posting about that.)

So I thought I would write about sleep today, in a non-judgmental and perhaps helpful way.

How might I start doing that?  Well, I’m thinking about how I move towards a non-judgmental stance with anything — people, situations, whatever.  And how do I do that? Well, I think the elements include the following: (1) curiosity about what is going on, (2) acceptance about what is,  (3) maybe some hopes or wishes about what direction I’d like to move in,  (4) ideas about how to start moving in that direction, (5) taking a step, and (6) losing my investment in what happens when I take that step. (Geesh!  Who knew that there were so many steps involved?)

Note to self:  write future blog post about the steps towards a non-judgmental stance, including how the language “paradoxically” includes both movement and standing still.

Where was I, before the italics? (Another alternate title for this blog:  “The Year of Writing Digressing-ly.”)  I know where I was: non-judgmental stance.  And then before that, the topic:  Sleep.

Hmmmm, maybe nests of digressions like that indicate some avoidance on my part, in writing about this topic of sleep.  And, maybe I’m over-analyzing there, but, hey!  I probably am avoiding that topic.  As a matter of fact, last week, I was doing a group where I  passed out a worksheet on “Self-Care.”  The worksheet included questions like “What does self-care mean  to you?”  “What have you done for self-care?”  “What gets in the way of you doing more self-care?”  “What might help you do more self-care?”  And as I was filling out the worksheet myself, I could feel my mood getting lower. I was pissed at myself for choosing this worksheet.  I thought, “I wish I had chosen a different worksheet instead!  This worksheet sucks! I don’t want to do this!  This is probably depressing other people in the room!”  And it’s true that it was a difficult topic, but it was a helpful one for the group to discuss. But when I thought about why I had that reaction to the worksheet, I realized it was because of The Topic Du Jour.

Sleep.

And how “bad” I am at that — a very important part of my own self-care.

So, now, I’m realizing that I have a lot of self judgment about how I take care of myself, sleep-wise.  And I need to accept THAT, too.

I need to not judge the judgment.

“Not judging the judgment.” That’s a phrase I use a LOT in my work. And that does seem to blow people’s minds.  People have remarked “Yes, my head is now going to explode.” Sometimes, when I say “No judgment about the judgment”  and I see people’s expressions,  I feel like Captain Kirk in Star Trek  when he’s disabled yet another dangerous robot or computer by saying something paradoxical, like “You are perfect AND you’ve made an error.”

Arrrghh!  Another digression! This is ridiculous. But, again, there it is:  I guess this is a tough topic for me.

As a matter of fact, here’s a thought I’ve had several times while writing this: “Maybe I should press Save Draft, and write about this later!  I mean, it is a long weekend, dammit, and I want to relax and have some fun.”

And maybe I will press Save Draft at some point, but not yet.

I also think that, as with EVERYTHING,  I don’t have to “finish” this  today.  Maybe just starting it is helpful.

So, what else would I like to write about Sleep today?

I guess that I do have some judgment and fears about sleep.

The judgment includes thoughts like these:

I’m not taking care of myself well enough.

I “should” know better.

Even though I know and believe that enough sleep is important,  I often don’t give myself that gift, as much as I want my son to have it.

My fears?

Hmmmm, those fears feel scary.  (I think I do fear the fear, at times.)  So I’ll do my best right now to write about them, a little.

What are my fears about sleep?  Maybe that I won’t wake up?  Wow. That’s the ultimate fear, isn’t it?  Also, maybe I have some fear of losing control. And maybe because of the operations I had when I was a kid, maybe I associate sleep with the forced sleep of anesthesia, too, in some ways.

Maybe.

As I often find (and encourage other people to do), just writing down fears — getting them out of your head, on paper or screen, so you can see them —  can help. (As scary as it might feel to do that.)

I think that may have helped.

I’m going to stop there, dear reader, for now.  Thanks so much for your curiosity, and for witnessing me, as I stand still AND move towards non-judgment. (And I hope there were no head explosions or any destructions of computers or robots, at any point during the reading of that blog.)

Categories: personal growth | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

Day 18: If there’s something you need or want, just ask for it.

Posted on January 18, 2013 by Ann Koplow

Note:  This here is another blog-ified version of a chapter I’ve been working on for a book.   My friend Jeanette really likes this, so this is dedicated to her.

Yes, indeed.  If there’s something you need or want, just ask for it.

If  you’re skeptical about this, I understand.  If I hadn’t encountered this lesson countless times so far in my life, I couldn’t be writing about it now. And believe me, unless I read this post over and over again, I’m pretty sure I’ll doubt it again in the future.

There are lots of reasons why it’s difficult to ask for what you want.  Here are two really common ones:

(1) You fear that that you won’t get what you ask for, and you’ll feel  much worse than if you hadn’t asked at all.

(2) You  believe that people will judge you and maybe even reject you for burdening them, or for being selfish or unreasonable.

Let’s look at these, one at a time.

(1) If you ask for what you want, sure, there’s no guarantee you’ll get it.  But here’s the good news: you WILL be able to deal with feeling lousy about it.  Don’t believe me? Think of all the times you’ve survived being disappointed before. And while sometimes we might feel that we’re filled up with disappointment, and one more “no” would damage or even kill us, it won’t.  And the more you’ll ask, the more you’ll get.

It’s the fear of the Power of that NO,  I think, that keeps us from asking.  Once we overcome that fear, and ask more, the odds will be good. You’ll actually get what you want,  some of the time (If not most of the time.) That huge payoff will make the few “no’s” totally worth it.  It’s a great business proposition. You’ll get fine return on your investments (ROI),  and ROI governs how most people take business risks.


(2) And as far as being judged by people,  remember this:  no matter who the person is that you’re asking, they’ve dealt with lots of people asking — a lot less reasonably — for a LOT more than what you’re asking for.  No matter how outrageous you think your request is, lots of people have outdone you.  I guarantee it. Think of the shameless requests you’ve witnessed in your life, for heaven’s sake. Your request will most likelly be somewhere in the middle of the reasonable-to-shameless request scale. Again, we’re talking excellent ROI here. More often than not,  you’re not going to be judged or going to be rejected even close to the way you fear.

There are ways to ask for what you want that can improve your ROI even more, including being clear and direct.  But I think the most important factor is believing that you deserve to get what you’re asking for — that you’re worthy of getting your needs met.

And you are, dear reader.

© 2013 Ann Koplow

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Day 14: The sounds of silence (and how we respond)

Posted on January 14, 2013 by Ann Koplow

I’ve been thinking about silence lately.  Specifically, I’ve been thinking about how people react to silence – how it “speaks” to them (interesting word).

I’m thinking about how we can fill in silences with all sorts of thoughts and assumptions.

I’m not thinking about the silence that exists when we’re alone. I’m thinking about the silence in response to an attempt to connect.  That is, interpersonal silence.

As a group therapist, I’ve witnessed and observed lots of people’s reactions to interpersonal silence. In a group, there might be a lull, a stretch of time were nobody says anything.  Often, somebody will fill in that silence,  perhaps out of discomfort and anxiety.  Sometimes, the group therapist has to fight the feeling that the silence means that the group isn’t a “good” one. (This is something I’ve worked on, and now I actually like silences, because interesting things often come out of them.)

Often in a group, somebody will share something intimate, risky, or important, and nobody will say anything.  Or somebody might change the subject, almost immediately.

I’ve seen all sorts of people – in and out of therapy groups — react similarly when they say something that feels important and then don’t seem to get a response.  They may know, intellectually, that silence can mean many different things. They may know that the silence might indicate that people are thinking and even very much affected by what they’ve heard. They may know that silence might mean that people didn’t know what to say (or what they were expected to say).

Even so, speaking without a response often causes something really painful.

Shame.

And that’s not surprising, since humans react that way, almost from birth. It’s been said that infants are “hard-wired” to have a shame response, which is triggered when a baby actively tries to make eye contact with the mother (or other primary caregiver) and they get an inattentive or disinterested response. The baby’s response looks like adult shame – head drooping, eyes down-cast, face turned away.

So when we try to connect with others and we don’t get a response within a certain amount of time, sometimes we’re going to feel bad about that. It’s natural to fill that silence in with all sorts of assumptions.

But feeling shame doesn’t necessarily mean that the situation is as bad as we fear. In Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, another common distortion is Emotional Thinking. Emotional Thinking is, in a nutshell, the following:

I feel it, therefore it’s true.

For example, “I feel hopeless, therefore there’s no hope” or “I feel inadequate, so therefore there must be something wrong with me” or “I feel shame, so therefore people must be rejecting me.”

I think it’s important to be aware of how hard-wired we are to feel shame when we reach out and don’t get a response, and to be open to other possibilities: that the other person is busy, for example.  I’m not saying we won’t get rejected sometimes, but maybe we’re not being rejected as often as we fear.

And it’s important to remember that even when we feel shame, we still matter.

I’ve heard guilt vs. shame defined this way:

Guilt is feeling like you’ve done something wrong.

Shame is feeling like YOU are wrong.

That’s such a painful difference, dear reader.

Categories: personal growth | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 5 Comments

Day 10: I’ve learned to leave the house before I feel ready

Posted on January 10, 2013 by Ann Koplow

This is something I’ve been working on lately, and it’s helped a lot.

Mind you, I’m not leaving the house any earlier than I ever have.  And I’m still getting to the first targeted location of my day (e.g., work, my son’s school, a dental appointment, whatever)  almost right on the dot. (I could definitely write a blog entry about all the machinations and skills — conscious and unconscious — that go into that kind of pin-point timing.)

Of course, with that kind of razor-edge timing, sometimes I screw up.  Sometimes I’m late. And I hate to be late. So there have been many mornings where I’ve been in an oh-so-familiar turmoil of anxious thoughts —  when I’ve cut it too close and I’m on my way to a destination where I may be (or am definitely going to be) late.

Here’s a sample of what it can be like To Be Me when I’m running late:

Why didn’t I leave earlier? Why didn’t I set my alarm earlier?  Why did I get so caught up in (writing my blog, coming up with ideas for groups, reading my e-mail, whatever)?  Why did I take such a long shower?  Why didn’t I nag (anybody else involved in my leaving the house) more skillfully?  Why didn’t I watch the clock more closely?  

Also, I can easily and smoothly shift into another Gear of Despair, from freaking out about past stuff I can’t change to catastrophizing about the future, which is usually some variant of the following:

Everybody is going to hate me for being late.

And another gear in this lovely torture machine involves shaming myself, which would involve words to this effect:

When will I ever learn?  What’s the matter with me?

I’ve been working hard on letting go of thoughts like that. And one thing that’s been helping is the title topic of this blog.

I’m leaving the house before I feel ready.

And I’m going to characterize that as an act of bravery. It’s brave to leave the house before I feel ready, since the morning preparations always include an Appearance  Enhancement portion, which can easily expand to the limits of (and beyond) the available time.  Getting dressed is mandatory, but there’s a lot of optional decision-making about What To Wear and How Good  I Have to Look before I leave.  And I’ve got a history of having lots of judgmental thoughts during this process, including my particularly annoying tendency of projecting judgment about how I look and how I’m dressed onto people I may encounter during the day.

(I’m not going to write more about that now, because I don’t want to waste any more time doing that, EVER, even for the purposes of writing this blog.)

For the past month or so, as I’m getting ready every morning, I dismiss every judgmental or worried thought that comes up about whether I’m Put Together Enough. I don’t have time for them!  I even head off  worries about any unobserved present or potential Shaming Wardrobe Malfunctions (e.g., inside-out clothes, price tags still attached, unobserved rips) with some What-The-Hell thoughts:

The people I see today will just have to deal with how I look, no matter what!  And if they’re going to judge me on that only, screw them!

Boy, that was fun to write.

And the mornings have been much more fun (and a lot less stressful).

So now, dear reader, I’m going to post this blog before I feel ready, too.

Categories: personal growth | Tags: , , , , , , , | 10 Comments

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