The first step is admitting you have a problem.

Hi, my name is Karen . . . I recently made it 3 days without a Diet Coke. 

This may not seem a significant achievement for many of you, but Diet Coke is the absolute bane of my existence.  I'm a hard core addict.   I have a collection of international Diet Coke cans.  I have one that I brought back from Italy. Then when I went to visit my sister in Germany, one of the highlights of the trip was a jaunt into France (!!!!!) where my brother in law found me a French Diet Coke to keep my German Diet Coke company on the trip back to the states.

This is what 4000 gallons looks like. 

  I started drinking Diet Coke in college.  Since then, I figure I have probably averaged about 2 of them a day for the past 20 years.  Now, this is a rough estimate, but I imagine that my unrestrained intake in the earlier years is compensated for by the "one a day" years.  I feel fairly confident in the realization that I have consumed close to 4,000 gallons of the stuff.  Holy Cow. 

Last week, (ok 3 weeks ago now, since I got sidetracked from my blogging) I attended a lecture given by Bill Kelley of Dartmouth University entitled "How the Brain Forms New Habits:  Why Willpower isn't Enough" or something like that.  I commented to my colleague as I sipped my post-lunch Diet Coke that no doubt by the end of the day I would have all the tools I needed to kick the habit, and so he should take a picture of my very last Diet Coke.  He's a psychologist.  He didn't take a picture.  I did learn more about him in the few minutes we chatted during the breaks than I have in 13 years of sharing office space, which I find fascinating. 

During this lecture, I learned several things:
First, I have learned a lot about neuropsychology in the last couple of years.  I remember vividly attending a lecture with Dr. John Arden a few years back and taking (not kidding) over 40 pages of notes. I just love this stuff.  It was kind of neat to recognize a lot of the information presented last week as "stuff I already know." 

Yay pairing Diet Coke with strong
man hands.  No that doesn't strengthen
the connection at all.

More important, I learned about the workings of Dopamine as a chemical motivator in the brain, and its role in the formation of habits.  I learned that Dopamine has nothing to do with how much you like something, but rather with how rewarding it is to your system.  Rewarding doesn't always mean "YAY THAT MAKES ME FEEL GREAT!" either.  It is rewarding, for example, when my kids turn the Wii on, and it makes that crazy dinging sound at an amazingly loud volume no matter what the actual volume of the TV is.  I holler "TURN THAT THING DOWN!!!" which I don't think they really have to do but they appease me anyway and the dinging stops.  That's rewarding.  The same way that Pavlov's dog salivated to the ringing of a bell once upon a time.  The cue (the bell) has nothing to do with the response (salivation).  But drool the dog did. 

Strategy:  Stop calling it Diet Coke and
start calling it by its given name.

So, the first time you experience something, and it's rewarding, you get a little bump of Dopamine in your brain that says "ooh.  do that again."  From then on, the dopamine bump comes from the CUE - just the THOUGHT of Diet Coke makes me want to do it again.  Then for extra added fun, consider this:  dopamine production is of course the common denominator in all drugs of addiction . . . including sugar and caffeine.  So your brain says "ooh.  do that EVEN MORE."  It doesn't even matter if you enjoyed it.  The chemical reaction taking place without your conscious knowledge or permission strengthens the habit.

Oh.  And in writing this article I found a blurb that part of the chemical reaction in processing phenylwhateveritisamine creates L-Tyrosine . . . which is a vitamin you can BUY that's supposed to help with stress.  So I get the dopamine bump with the cue.  And another dopamine bump with the caffeine and sugar.  Then until today I've always thought that "Diet Coke makes me feel less stressed" was all in my head.  It's not.  It's the triple threat.  Unfortunately, I have this pesky obsession with healthy living, and don't want to live my life from one chemical to another.  How come broccoli can't do all that stuff right that very instant??? 

So I get cues . . . like . . . morning.  Gas stations.  Eating food.  Being tired at work.  Driving.  All of which have been associated in my little brain at some point with the amazing deliciousness of Diet Coke.  Which no doubt in addition to caffeine and "sugar free" sugar which my body reads as REEEEEEEEEAALLY sweet sugar, contains traces of crack.  All of which stimulate the production of Dopamine. 

No wonder it's so hard to give the stuff up.  I once asked my amazing therapist if she could hypnotize me to believe that Diet Coke was really disgusting.  Like dog poop.  She said no. 

So we're back to will power.  I KNOW my goal is to ingest less and less of this nasty stuff.  None would be AWESOME.  I've tried setting rules for myself, like I can only have Diet Coke on Fridays, or only when I go through the drive through when I'm in a hurry.  I don't keep it at home.  Ever.  If I am at home and want one, I have to put on shoes, load up my kids, and drive "in to town" to get one.  This is a deterrent, but sometimes not enough of one. 

I do ok for a couple of days.  I carefully monitor my self-talk and support myself in driving to work without stopping to buy one.  I set myself up for success by making a wonderful jug of hot tea before I leave the house, so I have something to drink on the way in to work. 

But then life kicks in.  Sometimes I'm tired.  And the reality is, when I'm sitting in my office seeing client after client after client after client . . . my brain gets a little fuzzy and a Diet Coke honestly does help.  So I try substituting.  Coffee, tea, even tried caffeine pills.  But sometimes I want something a little sweet . . . so I keep fruit in the office. 

All this stuff takes effort.  And when I'm already depleted because I didn't get enough sleep, and my kids were hellac  - shall we say less than cooperative - that morning, and I'm swamped with trying to be the kind of therapist I want to be to both the clients IN my office and the ones who are having an unscheduled rotten day and need some extra support . . . sometimes it's just easier to stop at the gas station and give myself a treat that takes zero effort, makes me feel GREAT within minutes, and is an opportunity to say YES to myself when the NO list piles up too high.  And my addiction is back on in full force.  Let me just say out loud that as I listen to my "addict" clients, it has not escaped me that their behaviors around their substance of choice are NO different than my behaviors around Diet Coke and chocolate. 

So what am I going to do about this? 

Strategy:  post this picture on the mirror in my bathroom. 
And the dash in my car.
And my office.
Heck.  Maybe a tattoo. 

1. IDENTIFY what my body is trying to tell me with the craving.  For example, craving chocolate can be a sign of magnesium deficiency.  Pretty sure craving Diet Coke is a sign of a sleep and rest deficiency.  I have a bottle of L-Tyrosine at home.  I'm going to start actually taking this supplement and see if my Diet Coke cravings diminish. 
2. PRACTICE the positive behavior I want to do:  I will start picturing NOT drinking a Diet Coke, and pairing it in my mind with things like a healthy pancreas, healthy body, healthy life.  When I DON'T drink one, pat myself on the back and say "Look At YOU!!!"Now if I could just figure out how to make man hands a part of that visualization . . .  but I digress.
3. SUBSTITUTE for the habitual behavior: I will continue make tea for myself so I have something to drink in the car.
4. SAY YES:  I will give my body what it's asking for in healthier ways instead of creating more deprivation:  I'm going to nurture myself in other ways whenever I can so I don't feel so depleted.  At work, if I reallly am struggling, getting caffeine and a little something sweet from a healthier source.  Coffee has way fewer chemicals than Diet Coke, and I like it kindof watered down.
5. BREAK the habit:  I'm going to white-knuckle it past the gas station and tell myself all the reasons I don't need a Diet Coke and remind myself that I won't still be craving it in 5 minutes. 
6. REWARD myself for successes AT LEAST as much as I beat myself up for "failures."  I'm going to congratulate myself for making it 3 days before I relapsed. 
7. REALISTIC EXPECTATIONS for progress:  I'm going to recognize that kicking a habit is HARD, whether it is smoking, Diet Coke, stress eating, exercise or crack - and I'm tired.  I have a more than full time job and 2 amazing more than full time kids.  Not that "falling off the wagon" after 3 days is acceptable, but it is better than never getting on the wagon in the first place. 

And yes, I drank a Diet Coke while writing this. 

Apparently, I'm allergic to help.

A friend of mine recently noticed that I am, as she so kindly put it, "allergic to help." 

I have been allergic to help for a LOOOOOOOONG time.  There are too many examples to list.  Here's my favorite.  Once upon a time, I volunteered myself and my horse to ride in a leadership clinic with some Cowboy from Virginia  .  After an amazing and enlightening day, I vividly remember preparing to take my gear back to the trailer.  Purse over my shoulder, bridle and helmet looped over my arm, carrying my saddle.  I believe I was about to grab my horse's lead rope as well (Hellooo - I'm an endurance rider. We don't make more than 1 trip) when the Marlboro Man asked if I needed help.  He'd just met me.  He had no idea.  As usual, the phrase "Nope!  I got it!!!"  popped out of my mouth before he'd even finished the question.  You see, I never need help.  Not ever.  And the more I need it, the less likely I am to admit it by golly unless I'm paying attention.  Well, the Cowboy folded his arms, looked at me a little sideways, leaned against the round pen, shook his head and said "My grandfather would not like this." 

I stopped dead in my tracks.  Looked at him blankly for a long moment . . . and handed him my saddle.  And said "Thank you."

A while ago, I had a conversation withy my mother that probably saved me years of therapy.  We were chatting about the past, and she commented that she used to really look forward to my coming home from school when I was in first or second grade. 

Me being me, I couldn't let that go.  "Aww, that's sweet!"  I responded . . .  "Why?"

My mother proceeded to explain to me that she had 2 babies at home at the time (ages 3 and infant), and that when I came home, it was nice to have someone to talk to . . . and here's the part that saved me therapy time . . . I never needed anything.  I would have been about seven. 

Now before my mom calls me, let me explain that I get it.  I TOTALLY get it.  When I'm exhausted and overwhelmed and trying to get things done and one of my kids asks for something, I have to work really hard not to heave a deep sigh before stopping whatever I needed to do to take care of whatever they need me to do.  The take-home message is that my mom never intended to send me the message that it wasn't ok to ask for help, but I was a pretty capable, independent kid and as a result, I was inadvertently rewarded for doing things on my own, and got the message that asking for things wasn't ok because it bothered other people.  Which I then took too far because kids do that. 

Here's the point:  at the time I had this conversation with my mother, I was struggling mightily with my issue of being totally overwhelmed (and this was BEFORE I had kids) and not having the skills to ask for help.  I would go ridiculously out of my way NOT to ask for help in fact, and would take great pains to keep anyone on the planet from ever discovering that I might possibly in any way not have everything all together.  As a mother of 2, I would have had to give that up anyway, as it is no longer possible for me to even maintain the illusion that I have everything even remotely together.  See how I've grown?

Every issue you're struggling with in your life, you learned somewhere.  Now this isn't "blame your parents" day on the blog, but odds are you learned it there.  Remember that whatever you learned, it may not be what they intended  to teach you.  When we learn things so young, we don't have fully functional reasoning brains yet, but we develop habits.  I can imagine my 7 year old self, seeing my mom doing 27 things at a time, and figuring there was no good reason to bother her with whatever I wanted, and figuring out how to do it myself.  When I was 4 I decided to clean the bathroom one day.  Trying to help.  Pretty sure mom would have been happier if I'd asked for help that day, as I ended up getting stitches in my thumb.  Or when my friend David and I decided to try out the glue-making technique we'd seen on PBS and mixed flour and water and added it to the play doh. 

When you identify what you learned, and what habits you created with your kid brain that you've carried into your adult life, it's easier to let go of them.  You're no longer locked in to the belief that if you ask for help you're horribly inconveniencing people, and they will be unhappy about it.  You can just ask.  And they can say yes or no.  And then you move on.  Shockingly?  People often say they will be more than happy to help.  It's amazing.  You should try it. 

The corrolary to this of course is be careful what you're teaching your kids.  They tend to learn it despite your best efforts.

Above all, don't forget to have a sense of humor about your bad habits.  That way you can smile when your friends laugh at you when you still do them.  ♥UBKZ

It won't suck forever. Really.

I get it. 

You're discouraged.  You're disappointed.  Someone has broken your heart.  You feel trapped, powerless and out of control.  Whatever is going on, right now, things just suck. 

It won't suck forever.  Remember that.  I know.  You don't believe me.  It's ok.  Hear me out.

Today's world is HARD.  We are overloaded, overstimulated and overwhelmed, mostly without adequate skills to manage our emotions.  We get taught from day one NOT to feel - or at least not to tell anyone about it.  We end up feeling alone and lost.  People act really shitty and think it's their right.  You're not making it up.  Sometimes things really do suck. 

Don't give up.  Wait a week.  Or a day.  Or an hour.  Recognize that not every minute is horrible, and that horrible is relative.  Don't fall for the trap that there is some way you can rig your life that everything will be wonderful and happy all the time.  There are significant moments, both happy and lousy, scattered throughout a whole lot of pretty darn boring.  That's the way it's supposed to be.  You've been sold a bill of goods in movies and TV that everything is exciting and dramatic.  It's not.  Remember, they're condensing several days, weeks or months into 40ish minutes.  People don't watch TV and movies to see reality.  It's drama.  Life isn't like that. 

There's this thing called "habituation."  It's hard-wired.  We can't NOT do it.  From the time we're babies, we pay attention to something new.  Over time, it gets boring, and it doesn't pique our interest anymore.  It would take greater and greater levels of happiness to achieve the same feelings over time.  Similarly, we habituate to hard times too, so even if whatever stressful thing that's going on keeps going on for a long time, our brains get used to it and it doesn't seem so stressful.  The thing is, most of the time, stresses come and go.  You have a fight with your friend.  In a week, either you've both forgotten about it, or at the very least you've gotten used to avoiding each other in the hallway.  Think about things that have happened that were awful and you thought they'd never end.  Then they ended.  And you were ok.  That doesn't mean it didn't suck.  It just means it didn't suck forever. 

A guy named Ken Baldwin jumped off the Golden Gate Bridge in 1985.  He reports that as soon as he let go, he realized that "everything in [his] life that [he] thought was unfixable was totally fixable - except for having just jumped."  I can tell you I hear this story over and over.  A 20 year old guy who got dumped by his girlfriend and decided to hang himself.  As soon as the rope got tight, he remembers thinking it was a bad idea.  He's pretty glad his grandparents heard him.  Another kid in his 20's who tried suicide a couple years ago and can't really remember why he even wanted to do it.  A 17 year old girl who overdosed and cut herself who is now 25, finishing school and pretty darn happy with her life.  I could go on and on.

Any animal caught in a trap is tempted to chew off a leg to get free.  It's pretty normal for any one of us to consider suicide from time to time as a way to avoid having to actually go through whatever crappy thing is happening at the moment.  There's a big difference between really wanting to die and just wanting the pain to stop.  You want the pain to stop.  I know.  Me too.  The thing is, a lot of people don't know that they have choices other than feel miserable, or think about suicide.  If someone were to give you another option that made sense, you'd probably take it. 

That other option is about TOOLS and SKILLS.  No offense to parents and other people in your life, but LOTS of people don't have those skills.  We have skills for avoidance.  Numb out with TV, video games, alcohol, drugs, sex, sometimes over-achieving, dieting, whatever keeps you from feeling the pain.  Yes.  Learning new skills and getting through it is hard.  The more you practice, the easier it gets.  So where would you learn these skills?  TV?  We covered that.  Friends?  Their skills might not be any better than yours, and they might be the ones causing the problem in the first place.  Parents?  That's hit or miss.  If you have a great relationship with parents who have great skills, you're probably not thinking about killing yourself (though that's not always true either).  And yeah, when you feel hopeless at the end of your rope it's hard to be really motivated about learning a whole bunch of new coping skills.  You don't have to do it alone. 

So many people are scared to go see a therapist, but therapists are great coaches and can give you a short-cut to feeling better.  Therapists aren't there to judge you, or lecutre you, or boss you around.  Don't waste your energy feeling ashamed, weak or embarassed.  They won't see you that way.  Yes there are bad therapists.  Most of them aren't.  If you get a bad one, walk out of their office and right straight into someone else's.  I'd be surprised if you find 2 bad ones in a row.  Call your local community mental health center.  Google "THERAPIST (your zip code or city)."  Talk to your parents, if that's a safe thing to do.  Talk to a teacher.  Talk to a friend.  Talk to a friend's mom or dad.  TALK TO SOMEONE.   Know that it doesn't always take a lot of money to talk to a professional.  Call a hotline.  1-800-273-TALK or 1-800-SUICIDE Somewhere, there is someone who will listen.  Remember, you're not calling to tell them you're going to kill yourself.  You're calling to tell them you want another option.   

You can do this.  It will be worth it because it won't suck forever.  I promise. 

Practice WINNING!!



GO JOE! 
Thanks to the Haeberle Family for this pic!

  One of the charming things I am often known to say is:

"You're either a therapist or you're not.  If you're a therapist, you'll be a therapist whether you're a licensed, practicing clinician, or a mechanic, or a landscaper, or an accountant . . . or a Cowboy.  If you're not a therapist, no amount of schooling can help you."  And then I write my student loan check. 

Recently, I was whining about how my life does not allow the time I'd like to get outdoors and ride my horse.  It's frustrating because there isn't a sense of continuity - like I'm making progress.  I ride 3 days in a row, and then don't get to touch a horse for 2 weeks.  My treasured friend the "non-therapist" sent me an email later that day, describing an endurance ride.  He talked about maintaining my steady trot all day, then seeing an opportunity at the finish and riding for it - picking up a faster gait and passing the leader to win the ride!  YAY!!!  His point was that I could ride in my head any time I wanted, that it WOULD improve my performance to practice in my head, and that it was more than vital for me to keep that part of me from getting buried under the rest of the junk in my life. 

What he didn't realize is that he made me think about more than that.  As he described my finish, all I could think about was the possibility that in that wild dash for the finish, my horse would probably shy at that Wal-Mart bag and toss me off into the bushes.  Then I started to wonder how other people I admire in this sport manage to pull off that race for the finish.  I've seen them do it.  It's totally exciting!!!  It occurred to me that these people probably practice between rides.  I bet they get out there with their friends and race just for fun, which teaches the horses how to do it. 

imgur.com

Then, because I am so unfaililngly me, I started thinking about the larger implications for life, and the need to practice winning.  We tend to think about the worst case outcomes of whatever we're doing.  In doing so, we practice losing.  We practice failing.  We even practice giving up.  We practice all the things that won't help us win AT ALL.  Kids practice winning in their heads.  They even practice in their play.  They tell us they can be superheroes, or cowboys, or doctors.  When they are little, we call it cute.  When we get bigger, we call it daydreaming, and tell ourselves to get our heads out of the clouds and face reality.  We kill those winning visualizations with efficiency and finality.

I'm here to tell you to get out there and get your head in the clouds as fast as you can.  Your brain will naturally want to focus on the squeaky wheel, so don't worry - it will get plenty of grease.  Make a decision to practice winning in your head whenever you're faced with a problem.  In the meantime, I'm gearing up for my first ride of the season which is, coinciedentally ON MY BIRTHDAY!!!         

Anticipating St. Valentine

As we approach the season of hearts and flowers, I think I'll write a bit about relationship.





PSSST!  GUYS! 
THIS IS AN IMPORTANT DAY!!!  YOU GET MAJOR POINTS OFF FOR MISSING THIS ONE!!!  START PLANNING NOW!! 

You can thank me later, men.

Anyway, Valentine's day is a fun one, as we celebrate the anniversary of the execution of Saint Valentine.  Leave it to Hallmark to pretty up a beheading.  Actually the story is pretty sweet, so if you don't know it, you can read it here.  Of course it's Wikipedia, so who knows. 

Relationships are tricky, and take work.  One of the biggest problems is that (IMHO, of course) we are trying to squish our instincts into a framework that isn't natural.  We take these big strong hunters who are designed for leaving home for several months at a time, risking their lives, taking the chance they'll never come home while they grunt and pee with the other hunters, and expect them to notice that the throw pillows on the fluffy duvet aren't straight.  Admit it, ladies, it's a little unfair.

But hold on there, Caveman Bob - before you get excited and start sitting in the living room naked, read that sentence again.  We're no longer asking you to bring down the mammoth with your bare hands.  You get to throw back that duvet and sink into the fluffy pillow-top mattress eeeeeeeevery night.  It's a tradeoff.  You choose.  Feel free to grunt and pee and holler for your grub from your home in the back yard.  No?  Then straighten up those throw pillows, mister, and smile when you do it.

OK so I'm not so much THIS kind
of Valentine.  Barf. - - oh excuse me . . .
BARK.  Yeah.  BARK.

Ladies, we have to be a little patient.  Everyone says it's a MAN's world.  Well, maybe.  But what's required in today's relationship is communication and multitasking and we have those instincts.  We had to work with the other moms and grandmoms to coordinate who was going to gather those berries today, and still manage to keep the 47 kids alive.  We have a leg up there.  So don't expect that your hunky hunter is going to spontaneously share his feeeeeeeeelings at length.  He can learn to identify them over time, and that's amazingly helpful.  Men, huddle up.  Sometimes, all you have to do is LISTEN.  Arm around the shoulder, hold a hand, mop a tear . . . don't freak out . . . it's ok.  I always say that one of these days I'm going to organize a class for men about relationship skills.  How would I get men to attend???  Simple.  In big red letters I would call it "HOW TO GET LAID MORE OFTEN."  

Start where your horse is :)   

(P.S.  This is supposed to be FUNNY.  Nobody get all upset by the overgeneralizations, ok?)

More thoughts about boundaries - but still not a series or that insures the Myans will be right.

If we know our own boundaries, we can identify what makes us uncomfortable.  Boundaries are impacted by a multitude of factors like self-esteem, past experience, and (my favorite) COMMUNICATION SKILLS.  Since we are not perfect mind-readers, it is inevitable in relationship that someone will step over that invisible and often changing boundary line.  When we make our boundaries known, we set LIMITS.  Limits have a volume knob, and can be turned up or down depending on the needs of the situation.  Some people keep the volume on 27 all the time, and the slightest boundary infringement is met with LOUD AND AGGRESSIVE LIMITS.  Some people don't turn it up enough and their limits are often ignored.  I feel like I need a flow chart.  (Aside:  I actually tried to make a flow chart.  Yeah.  I have 2 kids, 4 horses and a full time job.  Not enough brain cells left over to make one.  See blog post on reasonable expectations)

Limits too strong says "SCREW YOU, YOU DID IT ON PURPOSE AND BY GOD YOU'RE NOT GOING TO DO IT AGAIN!!!"  However, this is just one violation met with another.  Tit for Tat.  You violated me now I'm going to violate you.  Then the other person reacts to having their boundaries violated and so on, and so on, and so on . . . Strong emotion (see previous posts on the addictive nature of strong emotion and endorphins!)

Not strong enough says "I'm worthless, you don't care about me, I'm a hostage."  The violatee feels helpless and resentful, unable to take care of him or herself and frequently responds with passive-aggressive behaviors or avoidance.  The violat-er is totally clueless most of the time, and has no idea why all of a sudden they're getting the cold shoulder.  More strong emotion as our amygdala responds to a perceived threat. 

Reasonable limits say "Hey, I care about myself, and about our relationship and I need to let you know that you crossed the line.  My expectation is that you will accomodate my need for you to step back."  With a good sense of boundaries and reasonable limits, there is no need for strong emotion.  It's emotion on the level of "please pass the salt."  The expectation is that your needs will be met, if at all possible.

Let's play this out in real life:

You're dating someone, and they ask you to get together.  You are feeling tired, and looking forward to a quiet evening at home.  Panic ensues as you decide how to proceed.  Do you do what you want to do and risk the other person getting irritated about it?  Or do what they want you to do and ignore your own needs??  Is there a compromise to be found?  Boundaries mean you face this situation without anxiety.

Hey - want to get together later?

Actually I was looking forward to crashing on the couch and being in a TV coma.  How about Tuesday?

Good boundaries looks like no one getting their feelings hurt, no one feeling rejected, and no one taking the information as a personal attack.  We leave the situation with the same emotional neutrality as if we'd asked someone to pass the salt.  We expect the response to be a positive "Sure!"  or at worst "Hang on one sec."  Point is, we go into the situation anticipating that our need will be met, so we have no anxiety in asking.  If we were to ask "Could you please pass the salt?" and hear instead "ARE YOU KIDDING ME????  I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU EVEN SAID THAT!!!!   I DON'T HAVE TO TAKE THIS S&^*!"  We would clearly identify that the OTHER person was out of line, wonder who peed in their wheaties, and fear for their sanity.  Goodness.  A simple request treated as if we'd shown up naked for Christmas Dinner AND asked for a kidney.  However, when we make that request for something else . . . like "excuse me, but I believe I was next in line . . . "  Filled with terror.  Often leading to reacting with ANGER and nasty glares without saying one darn thing.  In relationship, we often don't ask, and get resentful because we didn't get our needs met.  

Ask, and ye shall receive . . . at least an answer.  What I know is that if you DON'T ask, it's a sure thing you won't get it.  Worst that can happen is someone says no.  Actually WORST is that they don't know how to say no, and get pissed at you for asking.  But you don't have to own that :)

What Week is it?

Did I mention my kids were going back to school?  Holy Cow what an ordeal!!  It's not the parenting that's tough, it's coordinating all the schedules!!! 

Anyway, that's what's been going on.  So I've been thinking a lot about time management, and how to orchestrate this production without losing my job, my mind, or most importantly for the self-esteem and well-being of my children, MY TEMPER. 

The rotating schedule:  I often say that in my life, there is time to take care of my kids, do my job, and one more thing.  That one more thing rotates.  Sometimes, it's friend week.  My friends start to get cranky that I haven't surfaced in any form for weeks, and I start getting texts and emails like:  "Are you dead?"  "Are we not speaking??" and the like.  And I set aside some time to spend with friends.  Often, after Friend week is sleep week.  I get tired and run down during friend week and spend a week making sure I get 8 full hours of sleep.  I'd settle for 7.  Sometimes, there is horse week, when I remind myself that spending time with my horses feeds my soul and that I NEED to do that.  It's not just a nice thing to do if I have time left over, it's a priority for me to be most fully ME.  Usually the last week of the month is paperwork week.  It used to be called billing week, but that was when I had the flexibility to keep up with my paperwork more regularly.  Interspersed in there somewhere is usually cleaning week.  Which (who am I kidding?) isn't a week. 

Case in point:  I started this post a month ago.  Sigh.  A few strategies to mention here:

• Accept where you are:  I am BUSY.  I am a mother of 2, have a full-time (plus) job and a farm to run.  There just flat aren't enough hours in a day to do everything I "need" to do.  I have chosen my life.  There are things I could do to simplify my life.  I could move off my farm and live in an apartment, drive less, use less gas . . . but I think those are some big changes to make.  I'm choosing to hang on a little more and see how things turn out before doing that.  The PRICE TAG on that choice is that sometimes, I'm running around a lot and have to bring in my crack team of babysitters to help me be in 2 places at once. 
• Recognize it won't last forever:  While I am actually NOT convinced of this, what I know is that my amazing marvelous brain will habituate over time, and the same amount of insanity will SEEM like less.  I'll keep you posted on how that turns out.
• Do what you can:  I have an awful habit of wanting to do things thoroughly, and the right way, and completely.  HA HA HA says the universe!!!  What ends up happening is that I spend a lot of time ruminating about how I don't have time to do _(it)__ right and I obsess about how it's going to feel to not get ______ done.  Funny thing though, if I spend that time actually DOING something?  Who would imagine that I make more progress than I think!!!  This is especially true with exercise.  My fabulous exercise inspirer Heather Ann and I came up with the brilliant idea that I could set my sights on a ridiculously small number of pushups, situps and squats.  I have a reminder on my phone every morning.  It says "you can do this."  Sometimes, I actually manage to do it.  What I know is that if I try to get all enthused about working out for an hour, I won't even get out of bed.   
• Be kind to yourself:  don't waste energy beating yourself up for what doesn't get done.  Pick the important stuff, give it your best shot.  The hardest part is getting over the power of momentum.  My favorite phrase is "it doesn't matter WHERE you start, it matters THAT you start."  Then I consciously DO something.  There's something that happens in our brains that equates obsessing about something with doing something about it.  Use that energy to think about how great it will feel to have done that 5 minutes of whatever it is you decided to do. 

The effect of using these strategies will decrease the overall level of stress, resulting in less physiological stress and reactivity, less toll on your body, and less toll on those around you. 

 Maybe soon, it will be BLOG week!!! 

Looking farther down the trail.

Oh you are all going to be so sad when my daughter gets her cast off next week and I no longer have time for introspection on my endurance rides because I'm too busy riding 2 horses!  

Sangre de Cristo Mountains
(AKA VIEW FROM BASE CAMP WHEN YOU WAKE UP
- Did I mention I love this sport?)


I rode the Sangre Scenic Endurance Ride last weekend at Music Meadows Ranch, in Westcliffe, CO (they are a guest ranch - check it out!  You could go there!) and I am pleased to report no injuries to horse or person.  It was fabulous quiet time, just me and my horse. 
When I first began in endurance, I never imagined myself a top competitor.  Since having children, this belief has been strengthened as I have little time to train, and am afraid of pushing my horse too fast.  However, I have grown up in this sport, the motto of which (officially) is "To finish is to win."  And we live that motto.  There's a place in the sport for every person from the first place finisher to the last place "turtle" (who usually gets a special award!).  The sub-motto (is that a word?) of endurance would be "ride your own ride," meaning don't get sucked along at a pace that you know is too fast for your horse, ending up in getting pulled (disqualified) or worse hurting your horse.  Ride your own ride is a pretty good motto for life too, if you ask me, but it's not what came up on this weekend's ride so I'll save it for later. 

Music Meadows Ranch



So I rode my own ride.  I used to think that the way to be really safe was to start way behind the "front-runners" and stay back there all day so as not to get sucked along at a faster pace than was comfortable.  Within the last few years, I learned that the big gaggle of riders up front spreads out after the initial melee, and it is quite possible to ride your own ride and start in the front.  You end up riding pretty much the same ride, but you achieve a higher placing.  It is, in the words of Will Farrell in a parody of an ever-so-well-spoken former president, "STRATEGERY."  So Strategery it was.  And thanks to my work with Louis Wood about responsiveness and leadership with my horse, I could be confident that I would survive the start.  Soon, Allie and I found a comfortable spot in between two groups.  By this time, she had forgotten that she was worried about leaving her pal Morgan back at the trailer, and settled into her crazy big 10 mile an hour trot (we believe that Allie and Morgan actually share a brain.  It appears to be wireless, and has a range of about 20 feet.).  Well this ended up with us passing the group in front of us.  The first place group in front of us.  Were we really riding in first place?  ME?  Nah, I'm the one with the two kids who is just happy to complete!!!  But, as I tell my up-and-coming endurance rider daughter, "ride your own ride" means you get out there and do your best on that ride, and compete with yourself, not with the other riders.  Sometimes that's last place.  Today, maybe it was first place!

Home away from home.  That's Allie. 
The tent is for the kids!

 

Riding out in front means you actually have to watch the trail.  You can't just follow the riders in front of you and figure that THEY are watching the trail. Fortunately, the ride managers marked this trail superbly and it was easy.  Still, much of the ride was through sagebrush meadows, where things to attach markers to are low to the ground and hard to see.  As I rode through one particular meadow, I found myself having to slow down and look carefully for the next ribbon tied to a sagebrush.  This is not an efficient process.  So I thought I would try to see if I could tell where the trail went back into the trees on the other side of the meadow.  Lo and behold, once I found that spot in the distance, I saw a lovely trail of pink ribbons clearly visible!  I thought "I need to remember to look farther down the trail."  And I was struck by how true this is for life in general.

We get so stuck worrying about all the things that are happening RIGHT NOW.  Things we don't like, don't want to do, aren't working out . . . and we don't stop to think about the fact that these are moments.  They pass and resolve.  It works out . . . sometimes it just doesn't work out the way we had pictured in our heads.  Sometimes it works out in a way that is difficult.  But it always works out.  Most hardships are temporary and transient.  Temporary may mean 10 years, but it's still temporary.  We could get into some existential philosophy here, but I'm trying to make these blogs shorter.

So look farther down the trail.  When we see events in perspective of our whole lives, they represent a really small piece.  Learnining to accept the ups and down of this grand life experiment leads to a whole less anxiety.  So ask yourself a bigger question:  not what percentage of my life has been spent in this event, but what percent of my life has been spent worrying over events that come and go?  That's a bigger number.  We can't control events.  We certainly can control how much energy we give them.

      

The Anger Dare

In the wake of the Aurora Theater Shootings, as the world goes crazy with judgment and fear, I have a challenge for you. 

Let's do this without anger.

That's right, I dare you. 

Eliminate anger from your vocabulary for the next month. 

(There are those darned crickets again.) 

Anger: (Webster) a strong feeling of displeasure and usually of antagonism.

            (Bing Dictionary) a strong feeling of grievance and displeasure. 

That doesn't sound that bad, does it?  It's not.  I'm talking about the common use of the word "angry" which usually leans more in the direction of antagonism.  I tend to talk a lot about what words mean vs. how they are used, and anger is a big one.  I think it is very rarely used in the dictionary sense, which is pretty mild.

 

No, in it's purest sense, there's nothing really wrong with anger.  It's just that the word anger, and all it's synonyms, are worn out from overuse.  Many people in the
world today know how to have one of two feelings:  Happy and Mad.  No one really has a problem with happy.  Rarely do people come to therapy with joy management issues.  If we're not happy, we're mad.  Except mad goes nowhere.  Mad is full of adrenaline and while it feels powerful, it merely masks whatever else we're feeling.  So we get mad, and we act out . . . and then eventually it ends, the adrenaline goes away, and nothing gets resolved, because whatever the issue was, it was moot because people are desensitized to anger.  Either they don't hear an angry person because they're so entrenched in their own flight response or they don't hear the person because they are entrenched in their fight response.  Either way, the message is lost.     

So let's give it a rest.  For one month, don't use any of the following words:  mad, angry, pissed, furious, ticked-off or annoyed (especially at the end of the phrase "he/she/it MADE me _____").  I would be tempted to add irritated and frustrated, as they are frequently synonyms for angry as well, but I will allow them, with some strict limitations that they be used according to Webster's Dictionary.  I'm picky like that.  For the record, I'm only letting in things that are physically irritating, like the scratchy tag on your shirt collar, a flickering fluorescent light (actually I would go for ANY fluorescent light), or the whining tone in my children's voices as they tattle on each other in the back seat (what, did you think I was immune to that??).   

In that time, let's learn to identify the underlying feeling instead, and broaden our vocabulary.

Step 1:  Let's start with identifying feelings.  Any time you notice that you're tempted to describe your feeling as "angry" or one of its derivations, pick a different word.  Anger is ALWAYS a secondary emotion.  There is ALWAYS another feeling underneath it.  Find it.  See the chart at the right for some suggestions.  I'll be posting more about what to do with those other feelings throughout the month.  You can't do anything helpful with angry.  Angry turns people off.  Angry sends people away.  Angry doesn't think very clearly and tends to say things in an overly dramatic and hurtful way.  Often, you have to spend time after angry repairing the damage until you get back to a place where you can move forward.  In the dance of one step forward and two steps back, angry is two steps back. 

Join me in this challenge!  Let's make it viral!  I want to hear your stories!  Comment!  Email me!  Speak up! 

Think I'm crazy?  Ok, maybe that's a topic for another time.  My clients LOOOOVE this exercise!  After a while, you won't miss these words.  Possible side effects:  better relationships, less stress, improved communication . . . and less botox because you won't get those little frowney lines between your eyebrows. 

*Photos Courtesy of freedigitalphotos.net

Hey Look!! Grass!



Shamrock Endurance Ride 2012

One of the other things that sets us apart from our horses is the ability to reflect on events.  Thinking ABOUT things that aren't happening at the moment is a uniquely human characteristic. 

For example, horse people OFTEN speculate on how our horses comment on our activity.  At endurance rides, I often think my horse might say "good grief.  She hauls us in the trailer for 4 or 5 hours to this amazing field of perfect green grass, then she rides AWAY from that . . . only we don't go anywhere, just in a circle to come right back to the grass!  HUMANS!"  Their idea of a great weekend would be just munching grass the whole time.  To heck with this trotting business. 

If you ride long enough, you get hurt.  I always tell people who have just started riding (especially kids) that when (note not IF) you fall off the first time, you get your cowgirl/cowboy patch.  After that, every time you fall off you get a stripe to go under that patch.  No matter how long you've been riding, you know that there's always a chance that today is the day you're going to crash.

Yep.  Recently, I went on a ride and it happened to me.  I don't get stripes very often anymore, fortunately, but this one was a winner.  Now the other thing to know about horse people in general and endurance riders in particular is that Endurance Riders don't quit. Injuries are badges of honor.  A friend recently told me that AERC (American Endurance Ride Conference) actually stands for "All Endurance Riders are Crazy."  She's an endurance rider too.  And of course we finish the ride unless we're being air-lifted out on a stretcher.  Tough or Stupid?  You decide. 

About 3 miles from the finish, it happened.  Allie and I were coming out of the last pond after having a really great drink.  It was a no-brainer.  I reined back 2 steps (which was uphill) and cued her to turn on her hindquarters to bring her feet out of the mud and head back down the trail.  She responded like a champ.  And then something happened and her hind feet slipped.  Her back end went right out from under her and she fell hard on her right side.  And on my leg.  With the stirrup in between us.  Ouch.  It happened so fast I didn't even have time to be scared.  (Or maybe I've fallen so much in 15 years of riding that I've habituated to it!)  I got up and collected my horse, and decided that thankfully my leg did not seem to be broken.  We started to walk down the trail back to camp.  At some point I decided I was ok to get back on, and that I'd rather ride than walk.  So I did.  Allie seemed no worse for wear.  She was pulling my arms out of the sockets, whinnying, and trying to get back as fast as I would let her.  Yep.  It hurt.  But I'm an endurance rider :).

We got back to camp and everything looked just fine.  The vets checked Allie out (which happens during every ride - the vets determine at the finish if your horse looks good enough to continue.  If not, you can be disqualified at the end of the ride)  and said she looked great.  Gave me the big OK to ride her again the
 following day.  We went back to the trailer to get untacked, where my other horse waited, having worn a strip in the grass from pacing all day and missing her pal. 

My friends came around to help, and asked how my ride was.  I regaled them with the story of my adventures and proudly displayed the bulging bruise on my thigh.  I must have retold that story 10 times.  It's what we do.  Humans process through repetition.  We tell stories and create legends.  This was actually the 20th anniversary of this particular ride (To see the web page for this ride click here) and we sat around the candles (there was a burn ban - no bonfire this year) that night and told stories of rides we'd ridden and adventures we'd had.  Until it was very late.



Allie, after the ride. 
See why it was tough
to think she was just sore?

  Here's my thoughts about what Allie probably would have told Morgan as she walked into the pen that afternoon:  "HEY!  HI!  I know you!  Look!  Grass!"  And it was all over for her. 

There are two things that struck me about this experience.  The first is what a different experience humans have of trauma.  We spend years re-experiencing and being triggered by an experience.  We play it over and over in our minds, stay awake at night, talk to our friends about it . . . Allie experiences it, gets done with it, and is glad it's over - if she even thinks about it enough to be glad it's over, I'm pretty sure it just disappears from her consciousness until maybe we're back at that same spot next year.  She gets back to the business at hand of eating and staying alive.  I think humans do what we do for a good reason.  Our problem-solving skills are important.  However I think we can learn something from my horse.  Be sure to let the experience end.  When we repeat it in our heads, we tend to repeat the worst part.  One of the big things I focus on in EMDR is to be sure to play the video all the way to the end.  That's when it becomes a memory, when we recognize that it's over.  I think our brains try to rehearse the experience so if it ever happens again we'll do it differently.  Problem is, it's unlikely I will ever be in that exact circumstance again.  I've gotten a drink at the same corner at that same pond on that same ride each of the 16 times I've ridden it.  One of those times, I crashed.  It doesn't make a lot of sense for me to put a lot of problem-solving into that one.  It was just bad luck.  So I'm going with Allie's approach. 

Now, the part I did replay in my head over and over was that Allie started acting funny about 3 hours after the ride.  She lay down, and looked uncomfortable, and scared me to death.  So I had the vet come over and check her out, and he suggested that perhaps she was sore from the fall.  I actually questioned him a little bit on this, explaining that she'd been fine on the mad trot back to camp.  Strong, good energy, all the vets agreed that I should definitely do 50 miles on her the next day instead of 30.  (NO WAY).  But as I lay awake that night thinking about what was going on with her (it was confusing because she was eating . . . like a horse.  A colicking horse doesn't eat.  Allie would lie down and munch grass while she was down.  Weird), I remembered adrenaline.  That adrenaline rush of the fall for Allie produced endorphins.  Endorphins make us impervious to pain.  So while my leg was REALLY painful on the way back to camp, whatever hurt on her didn't start till later.  Everything in her little horsey head said that the best idea was to get back to camp to the safety of other horses, and to do that as quickly as possible.  She was probably more than a little irritated that I kept insisting we not get there at a dead run.  Thank you, Allie, for listening anyway.  And sorry, Tom, that I doubted you.  Lesson learned. 

While I'm at it here, I'm going to also put in a plug for Arnicare Gel.  Now, I am not prone to posting pictures of my thigh on the internet, but holy cow!  That's the difference in using Arnicare for 3 days, and not starting until about 30 hours after the injury.  I'm impressed, and will never travel to a ride without it again.  There's a coupon on the website for a dollar off. 

 

 

REVOLUTIONARY NEW ANXIETY MANAGEMENT THERAPY: THE STEEL EEL

Photo by Hagerman

I’m always talking about rehearsing anxiety management strategies in your head because there is no way to artificially create the unexpected in real life on purpose.  Well, I found one.  My daughter is 9 years old.  On a recent trip to Sea World, we stopped in at the “check your height” booth to see which rides she was eligible for.  Much to my utter and complete dismay, she towered over the height limit for (insert Beethoven’s 5th here) “THE STEEL EEL.” 

Aside:  I despise roller coasters.  Not since Space Mountain in high school have I had a positive experience.  Space Mountain was positive, I believe, because it was dark and I couldn’t see what was coming.  At the tender age of 16, snuggled in beside my equally adolescent boyfriend, I thought it was a blast.  I rode it about 20 times.  Since then, I have spent a great deal of time trying NOT to have that sick sinking feeling in my stomach.  In fact some might say I’ve made a career out of it. 

And yet, on this day at Sea World, I was faced with an impossible choice.  Ride (B’s 5th) “THE STEEL EEL” or deny my youngster this rite of passage.  I felt sick.  I was frozen to the spot, imagining that horrible feeling as the bottom drops out of the world and you are hurled into . . . oh hold on a minute.  That’s what I’m supposed to NOT do.  Anxiety is the negative anticipation of future events.  I know better.  Don’t I?  Sigh. Yeah, I do.  And so, I picked up my toolbox and kicked all my preaching into practice.  So, for your enjoyment, here are the strategies I used.

Use of powerful, rather than powerLESS language:  I don’t HAVE to ride “THE STEEL EEL.”  No one is forcing me.  It’s a choice.  I can do it, or I can choose not to.  I am choosing to do it, because no 9 year old should have to suffer because their mom is afraid of roller coasters.  Who knows how much therapy it might take to undo that.  So, I set limits.  I told her that I loved her.  Enough to go on THE STEEL EEL.  I made clear, however, that no amount of love could drag me onto the (insert psychotic scream here) GREAT WHITE.  It goes upside down.  That’s just not going to happen ever again.  (Even the adolescent boyfriend couldn’t get me on that one twice at 6 Flags.) 

Anticipate the entire experience, including (and usually especially) the end (when it is OVER):  What I know about roller coasters is that you wait in line for 45 minutes for a ride that lasts a couple minutes.  I could handle a couple minutes, right?  No matter how horrible it was, it would be over in a couple minutes.  I could do that.  And I would have the memory of that first roller coaster ride with my daughter for way more than a couple of minutes.   

Know your weak spots and Make a plan:  I anticipated that first drop.  (In writing this post, I estimated this sucker to be about 10 stories high.  Wanting to be accurate, I looked it up on the internet and discovered the actual height to be 15 STORIES.  Gulp.)  No way around it, that was going to suck.  I knew with every fiber of my being that my amygdale would not miss the opportunity to interpret danger in the sensation of a free-fall from 15 stories.  After that, just a sense of being thrashed around and up and down, one more big drop and then we were done.  (See: “it’s a couple minutes.  I can do that.”)  I planned to use distraction, perhaps counting the seconds, and taking a lot of deep breaths. 

My toolbox and I got in line.  My 9 year old was so excited, and I have a deeply held parenting philosophy that goes something like this . . . “DO NOT BE A WET BLANKET ON YOUR KID’S SENSE OF EXCITEMENT AND ADVENTURE ANY MORE THAN ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY.  LIFE IS TOUGH ENOUGH ON THEM.”  So I was trying to be excited.  The wait was not 45 minutes, but 5.  A good thing, I told myself.  Less time to anticipate and second-guess myself.  Bite the bullet and just DO it (Strategy Alert:  don’t spend more time anticipating how unpleasant something is going to be than it would take to DO that unpleasant thing.  Otherwise you just magnify your misery.)

The gates opened and we got in.  I reminded myself that the owners of Sea World do not want to be sued, so they have gone to great lengths to be sure that people will not fall out of their roller coaster.  I am highly unlikely to die in this experience.  (Strategy:  what’s the realistic probablility of the worst case scenario??)  I buckled my seatbelt.  Tightly.  I stopped myself from  noticing that the bar did not come down on my lap nearly as firmly as I wanted it to.  I visualized myself gritting my teeth and hanging on to that bar on that first drop.  I pictured terror.  Then I caught myself and DECIDED to ON PURPOSE picture myself getting OUT of the car after a couple minutes, to the sound of the cheering parent support group in my head, having delayed once more the moment when my daughter realizes her mom is a total nerd. 

We begin our ascent.  I take a moment to be conscious of the realization that it doesn’t seem as high as I thought it would, looked around a little, and took some deep breaths.  Then I guess some yahoo had his cell phone out and was trying to take a picture, and the whole train STOPPED on the 60 degree slope, and did I mention this was 15 STORIES ABOVE THE GROUND??  The person in the car behind me said “We’re going to slide back down!!” and I felt myself coming a little unglued.  Had a momentary flash of demanding to be let off, though I wasn’t sure how that would happen, and I decided that would take more therapy to undo than if I hadn’t gone in the first place.  So I decided to engage in some positive self-talk.  “I can do this,” I said to myself (though I believe I said it out loud).  “I’ve ridden 100 miles on horseback.  I’ve given birth twice.  Once without any drugs and that was the EASIER one.  I can totally do this.”  Went over the “this is safe – sea world doesn’t want to be sued” speech again in my head.  And the coaster began to move again.  Much to my chagrin, the phrase “this was a bad idea” slipped out between my teeth just as we went over the top.  But, as anticipated, that drop was over in a flash!  Looking back, I am amazed how much time it seemed like I had to go through the safety/liability talk with myself again, and to notice that my butt was held in the car only by a seatbelt and that there was noticeable air between MY seat and THE seat.  I consciously focused on holding on for dear life (a grounding exercise).  The ensuing twists and turns were fast and furious, but nothing over my threshold.  (I do enjoy the kiddie roller coaster . .. ).  At some point I opened my eyes and considered enjoying the experience, but noticed my daughter had slid down in the seat.  My amygdala was instantly positive she would go flying out at any moment, so I grabbed her wrist in a death grip and went through the safety speech again.  I tried to count, but discovered I had forgotten how.  I closed my eyes again, and reminded myself it was going to be over soon…. and then, a break.  The coaster slowed.  DEEEEP breath.  The second ascent to 15 STORIES was somewhat less idyllic than the first, but without the stupidity stop at the top, we were hurtling toward earth again in no time.  I decided this time to use the strategy of distraction, and searched for some memory piece to draw my brain function into my cerebral cortex and out of my limbic system.  “The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want . . . . “ and couldn’t remember another word.  Damn adrenaline.  Ok, something more familiar.  Went for the Lord’s Prayer this time.  Not that I am prone to reciting either one of these as a general rule, but it’s what my brain gave me, so I went with it.  Next time (HAHAHAHA!!) decide in advance what to recite in your head, Karen.  I practiced mindfulness, and took a moment to notice that I was reciting the Lords Prayer REALLY FAST.  I have no idea if I said it out loud or not, but then before I knew it, my daughter was prying my fingers off her wrist and saying “MOM!  It’s OVER!  I’m FINE!!!”  (Bonus points!  She thought I was holding on to comfort HER!!!)  So we sat there, as the coaster pulled back into the dock, and reveled in the emotional intimacy of our shared experience.  I smiled at her, scrunched down in her seat.  She looked at me, smiled back, and said “I don’t think I’ll do that again.”  I replied warmly, my heart swelling, “sweetheart, I’ve never loved you more.”   

And so there you have it.  There IS a way to practice all these strategies on purpose, and in an accelerated time frame.  If I were going to set my sights on enjoying roller coasters, I am confident that with enough practice, I could, and that the strategies I used in that pursuit would translate into the rest of my life dealing with cranky clients, bank tellers, traffic, angry kids, relationships … the list goes on.  Not that I’m getting on the STEEL EEL again anytime soon.  I’ll stick with the real world for now.