Stupid Behavior

How I dislike those words. Someone I care about very much tends to use the word “stupid” quite frequently to describe her behavior. Just last night we were talking on the phone, and she said it again. “It is so stupid to do that.” She was referring to something she does.

I attempted to stop her with a suggestion that she not say that. She didn’t take well to my idea, which was met with resistance. That is understandable. Who likes to be told what to do or how they could do it better?

After we hung up the phone… well, okay, we don’t actually hang up the phone these days, but I still like the phrase. So, after we hung up the phone, the “stupid” thought persisted in my mind. Where does “stupid” lead? What are the alternatives? What difference would it make?

It would make a big difference. If I describe my behavior as stupid, that is a reflection on me, which means I am stupid because I do that. This way of thinking causes me to feel down about myself, because if I do stupid things, I must be stupid. End of story.

I could choose other options. What if I were to say, “It is not helpful when I …” That statement encourages me to look at the situation and begs me to ask: “What could be helpful in this situation?” Lo and behold, the answer to that question and a respective action just might bring me closer to satisfaction. Thus, I could feel happy about the new situation, the new outcome, feel better about my new behavior, and feel better about myself.

Is it that easy?

Take yourself by the hand…

…and face it

Over the past few years, “face rather than fight” has become my new tactic, and it works. Recently, I rather soberly recognized that I have struggled with depressive moods from the time I was a child – so that means roughly 50 years or, for a more dramatic touch, half a century! It is no easy task to deal with that.

Many years were spent in struggle, treading water in the periodic depths of darkness. It was success enough simply not to drown. My new experience is that to face the depressive mood, to embrace it, requires less energy than to fight it – energy which is presently not available anyway! I have begun to face it and give it a name. “Oh, that is what is happening right now. Take it easy, you will get through this.” The focus shifts from struggle and frustration about what I can’t do and turns instead to what is possible. The bottom line is that I want to get through it with minimal collateral damage – to keep the kitchen clean is success enough. The energy-laden days will come again, but for now I am humble and take small steps. And by small, I mean small, like putting a dirty plate into the dishwasher after a meal instead of leaving it on the kitchen counter.

I can remember a couple of decades ago, when it would take me weeks to get to the post office to mail a letter. It was nearly impossible to just go do it, even when the letter was way overdue! That has changed significantly. Now I recognize the atmosphere and work with it. It often means that less will be accomplished than expected, but the goals switch as well. The focus shifts to simply getting through this dark chapter. In the long run, such an approach can contribute to make the chapter shorter.

Sometimes it is also necessary to realize that I am tired. A dear friend pointed that out to me several years ago. When I am busy with something, I give it my all. Creative projects especially lead me to focus intensely, and when they are completed, I feel like a balloon that just lost its air.

Of course, I have great visions and high expectations, but there are times when they are undesired guests and I withdraw their invitations. Yes, it does work! I do my best to refrain from self-criticism and instead lovingly accompany myself like a child, holding my hand as I walk myself through the darkness. Step by step.

I invite you to try this out. Next time you are feeling down or unmotivated, face it. Be kind to yourself. Talk to yourself kindly. Ask yourself what is wrong, how you feel, or what could help. Just don’t stress yourself with too many questions. It doesn’t always require an answer. Sometimes it is enough to hold your hand, or put your arm around your shoulder, without talking. Just listen to yourself and choose the appropriate action (or non-action).

Understanding[,] sympathy and humor

Yesterday I was slightly irritated because a good friend hadn’t written or expressed the amount of concern I’d anticipated. After some (hopeful) hesitation, I wrote and explained that I needed to hear things like, “Thank God you’re not dead!” But since those were my words, I requested more creativity. He answered that I’d made it sound like a bump and a slight bruise.

That’s when I understood about sympathy and humor. It’s up to me to find the humorous side. For example, dear Sanity asked how bad it is. I said: “Well, I sleep as long as I feel like it and even then don’t have to get out of bed. I stay up reading as late as I want. I don’t have to cook, clean, go grocery shopping, or do laundry. It’s awful!!!” She said, “Oh, you poor thing!”

But when someone else said, “You can be thankful it’s not worse and that you can expect a full recovery,” I felt my operated-on shoulder twitch with annoyance. That’s what I’m supposed to say! Or if someone else says it, they need to include a preface like: “Thank God it’s not worse and you’ll recover fully.” You know what I mean? I don’t want to be lectured that I should be thankful. I am of normal intelligence and boy oh boy am I thankful!

All humor aside, I can’t play guitar for quite a while and I can’t drive for at least 3 weeks. (Okay already! I KNOW some people don’t even have a car at their disposal.) I feel like a totally caged monkey with no toys. (SanityFound, when you have a free minute could you take my picture? Thanks!) Now I have sympathy for animals in the zoo. Luckily their living conditions have improved over the years. But now and then they still might wonder about their purpose in life.

Why am I sharing this? Because somebody else might feel sorry for herself or neglected. In that case, I encourage you to reflect on whether or not people know that you need comfort and sympathy. If you joke too much, they might think you’re just fine. And if you happen to be in the lucky position of only having to comfort someone, tell them you are so GLAD that it wasn’t worse. Chances are, they’re as smart as me and have already thanked their lucky stars (probably more than once).

I also want to share that although I am not drowning in self-pity — not even treading, but easily floating with occasional bouts of tears (so that I don’t get stranded on dry ground), and although I will recover and be fine, and with some delay put out the CD that will in my modest estimation far exceed the first one, as well as eventually be able to cook and clean again (low priority), all expressions of compassion and sympathy are welcome!

And if anyone else needs some, feel free to let me know. I have plenty to spare. (Funny how our own compassion works best for others!) Compassion is free, but it’s priceless. So is sympathy. 🙂