therapy was a huge part of it for me, but doesn't have to be part of it for everyone. i do a couple of things regularly:
1. making self time: i tend to meticulously schedule my day, down to the hour, though i do allow for movement (and schedule "loose ends" time for shit that inevitably doesn't get done). one of the things that this practice allowed me to do was actually schedule free time. when taking a little while to write some fiction, or go to the gym, or write in my journal, or chill with a video, i didn't have to feel as guilty because it was part of my day, rather than a deviation from a plan. however you approach your own day, it's nice when the soothing activities are set at intentional, rather than as "procrastination." (i firmly believe procrastination is my body's way of telling me that there needs to be a bigger breath between my thoughts)
2. check ins: i try to get into the habit of periodically asking myself "what am i feeling right now?" i take 30 seconds to take stock of my emotional state, my physical sensations, my thought patterns, everything that is part of that experience. i do so mindfully, trying not to evaluate, but just to pause and notice where i am. one book of mine recommends doing this once an hour, but i don't tend to be that regimented about it. when i'm in a particularly intense emotional/physical/mental place, i try to make sure to allow for a quiet self-check-in. writing about it in a journal also helps. i like to compare the experience to hearing a noise in a dark room. when the lights are off, you have no idea what size the object making the noise might be, and it seems huge in the darkness. writing, for me, is a way of turning on the light, noticing the exact shape and size of a feeling, putting my attention right on it. it doesn't make the feeling go away, but it does help me appreciate that it has limited size, and can't overpower me.
i may have totally overhelped here, but it felt nice to write this all down. one last note: i'm a reliable schmoop dispenser, if ever you need a little verbal chicken soup. take care.
1) Definitely something I need to do, and advice I have heard A LOT from busy friends. I am for it. 2) I suck at writing in journals that aren't public, but I'm going to make an effort to try again. Checking in seems to be a good idea--I often forget to ask myself how I am.
good to hear. i, also, used to be really uncomfortable writing in private journals (as if, even in private, i was judging my own thoughts as 'looking stupid'). learning to be nicer to myself and learning to use a journal happened as parallel processes for me. but not everyone jives on writing -- there are so many other forms of check-in that can be just as useful.
1. making self time: i tend to meticulously schedule my day, down to the hour, though i do allow for movement (and schedule "loose ends" time for shit that inevitably doesn't get done). one of the things that this practice allowed me to do was actually schedule free time. when taking a little while to write some fiction, or go to the gym, or write in my journal, or chill with a video, i didn't have to feel as guilty because it was part of my day, rather than a deviation from a plan. however you approach your own day, it's nice when the soothing activities are set at intentional, rather than as "procrastination." (i firmly believe procrastination is my body's way of telling me that there needs to be a bigger breath between my thoughts)
2. check ins: i try to get into the habit of periodically asking myself "what am i feeling right now?" i take 30 seconds to take stock of my emotional state, my physical sensations, my thought patterns, everything that is part of that experience. i do so mindfully, trying not to evaluate, but just to pause and notice where i am. one book of mine recommends doing this once an hour, but i don't tend to be that regimented about it. when i'm in a particularly intense emotional/physical/mental place, i try to make sure to allow for a quiet self-check-in. writing about it in a journal also helps. i like to compare the experience to hearing a noise in a dark room. when the lights are off, you have no idea what size the object making the noise might be, and it seems huge in the darkness. writing, for me, is a way of turning on the light, noticing the exact shape and size of a feeling, putting my attention right on it. it doesn't make the feeling go away, but it does help me appreciate that it has limited size, and can't overpower me.
i may have totally overhelped here, but it felt nice to write this all down. one last note: i'm a reliable schmoop dispenser, if ever you need a little verbal chicken soup. take care.
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2) I suck at writing in journals that aren't public, but I'm going to make an effort to try again. Checking in seems to be a good idea--I often forget to ask myself how I am.
Not overhelp. Was just right. Thank you. <3
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