Confession: I Talk To Myself. A LOT.

I used to be the one family and friends hit up for a phone number or address before we all had that information in our pockets via smartphones.  

Now, there are days when I have a hard time remembering my OWN phone number, much less anyone else’s. 

Grief brain and RA fog have wiped my mind clean of not only important facts but also the ability to keep track of what I’m doing and where I’m going.

So I talk to myself.

A LOT.  

 

see me talking getting expert advice

 

It’s one way of keeping me on track and on task.  

I use lists and sticky notes and phone alarms as well, but something about talking myself through the day helps more than all those things.

I also talk myself down from anxious moments.  I repeat, “This is not an emergency, this is not an emergency” over and over when a truly non-threatening trigger ramps up the adrenaline and sends my heart into overdrive.  It is so easy to be driven by urgency if I don’t remind myself of this truth.

anxiety take your time

I remind myself out loud to be careful when walking on slippery mud or working with horses.  Even when I’m not conscious of grief, it can make me careless and inattentive.  I sometimes find that I’ve wandered into a situation where extra attention is absolutely crucial if it’s to end well.  So I say, “Pay attention!” or “Watch out!” just as I would to a roaming toddler or feeble senior.

Complicated tasks have to be broken down now.  I can’t do two things at once.  If I forget and wind up juggling things when I shouldn’t be, I declare, “One thing at a time, Melanie.  One thing at a time!”

focus on one thing at a time

Driving, I’ll calm my nerves in traffic by focusing on my own lane, humming a tune and sometimes saying, “It’s not a race.  Slow down.  Take the easy way and don’t try to get around them.”  My house is 13 miles from the nearest traffic light, so when I have to go to the city, I almost always feel nervous.

And when I get out of the car at each stop I repeat the mantra:  “Keys, phone, list, purse.”

make a list sometimes remember to bring it

I have a running conversation about what I need to do next as I walk from room to room, tidying up.  I chant, “Lock the door.  Turn off the fan.  Feed the cats.” before bedtime.

The good thing about cell phones being everywhere is most times folks probably think I’m talking to someone else. 

What I like best about cell phones is that I can talk to myself in the car now and nobody thinks it’s weird.
― Ron Brackin

Either way, I don’t really care.  

It’s how I manage to get through a day without locking the keys in the car, falling on my backside or melting into an anxious puddle on the floor.  ❤no earpiece no cell phone talking to myself

 

 

Things I CAN Control

When I opened the door to that deputy and received the news, my world suddenly spiraled out of control.

Over the next days, weeks months I would have to do things I never imagined I might do and certainly things I did not WANT to do.  So, so much I couldn’t change.  So many ways I lost the right to choose.  

And I hated it!  

Wasn’t long and that sense of helplessness permeated every corner.  Even when it didn’t belong there.  I began to feel as if I couldn’t control anything.

So in many ways I stopped trying.  

But then one day I woke from the fog of despair.  I remembered that there WERE some areas of life where I could still make choices.

And it was empowering!  

So here’s a list that I pray gives hope to other hurting hearts.

THINGS I CAN CONTROL

  • My attitude (how I react to what others say or do)
  • My thoughts (with great difficulty sometimes)
  • My perspective (when I’m careful to fill my mind, heart and eyes with truth)
  • If I’m honest (about ALL things-including my feelings)
  • Who my friends are (from my end-can’t stop people from walking away)
  • What books I read (I am choosy and only read things that feed my soul)
  • What media I consume (stay away from toxic people, topics and television)
  • What type of food I eat (healthy, appropriate amounts)
  • How often I exercise (a walk, gentle yoga, online video routines)
  • How many risks I take (not just physical ones, but also emotional and relational risks)
  • How kind I am to others (being wounded does not give me the right to wound)
  • How I interpret situations (do I assume the best or the worst?)
  • How kind I am to myself (extending the same grace to ME that I extend to others)
  • How often and to whom I say, “I love you”
  • How often and to whom I say, “Thank you”
  • How I express my feelings (I can learn healthy ways to speak my truth)
  • Whether or not I ask for help (no one gets “points” for playing the martyr)
  • How many times I smile in a day (smiling, by itself, lifts mood-even a “fake” smile)
  • The amount of effort I choose to put forth
  • How I spend my money
  • How much time I spend worrying (or praying or complaining)
  • How often I spend moments blaming myself or others for past actions
  • Whether or not I judge other people
  • Whether or not I try again when I suffer a setback or disappointment (success is getting up one more time than I fall down)
  • How much I appreciate the people and things in my life

Exercising control over the parts of my life where I CAN exercise control helps me deal more effectively with the many parts over which I have no control

It does not undo the sorrow and pain of child loss, but it does work to balance the emotional scales. 

It makes it easier to face a new day.  

It helps me hold onto hope.  

And that is a good thing.  ❤

whenyoucan27tcontrolthewindadjustyoursails

 

 

Why Self Talk Matters

What you tell yourself matters.

What you rehearse becomes what you believe.

What you believe becomes what you do.

When Dominic first ran ahead to Heaven, I was determined to hold onto truth with both hands.  I would not allow my mind to wander the winding path of “Why? or “What if?” or Where now?”

I was able to keep that up until the funeral.

Then the bottom fell out.

All the thoughts I had kept at bay crashed through my defenses like an invading army.  My mind was consumed by questions, doubts, horrible imagery and awful anxiety.

Slowly, slowly I recaptured the conquered territory.

I hung scribbled Bible verses and encouraging quotes all around the house.  I refused to read or listen to news stories recounting accidents.  I began the day with remembering Dom was gone, but also remembering I was still here and that my three living children, husband and parents needed me.

When my heart screamed, “Give up!  Give in!  It’s not worth it!”

My head answered, “No.  I will endure.  I will continue.  I will be the one to carry Dominic’s light into the world.”

If I speak doom, gloom and despair to myself then I will live darkness, defeat and disillusionment.

If I speak courage, calm and compassion to my heart then I will live with hope and reach for happiness.

Self-talk matters more than we know.

How I frame my experience-both my son’s death and my ongoing interaction with the living-determines if I will waste the days that remain or will work to make them count.

I have no control over the past, but I have a little over the future.

I can’t change what happened, but I can change my attitude.

Self-Talk-Poster-2-15-13