Your mental health isn't a damn buzzword
Week 7: Recovering a Sense of Connection
WEEk SeVeN ReCoVeRiNg A sEnSe oF CoNnEcTiON
Really, Julia? Because I don’t feel connected at all!!!! Or maybe I feel too connected? Or maybe I’m not connecting to the right things? Or maybe I’m not connecting in the right way? What’s the right way to connect? How do I know if I’m connecting to the right things in the right way? Sweet Julia please, hELP mE!!!
Miss Julia started off this weeks reading with: “We turn this week to the practice of right attitudes for creativity. The emphasis is on your receptive as well as active skills”
So maybe my attitude is the problem? Maybe I’m the problem? Am I the problem? What’s the right attitude? How can I practice having a “right” attitude?
How? What? When? Where? Why???? This week exhausted me. To be honest, I think I’m still recovering from week six. Julia didn’t mention that healing could take more than the allotted seven days of study.
Anyway, I’ve been feeling a bit overwhelmed. Anyone else? Is mercury in mars or something? Maybe it’s my menstrual cycle? Maybe I should wake up earlier? Maybe I should stop eating stroopwafels and mochi balls every night? Maybe I should do more pilates? Bitch you can’t afford pilates. What about hot yoga? Is hot yoga stressing me out? I saw a video that said high temperatures can cause high cortisol? How are my cortisol levels? What’s a fucking cortisol level? I should probably write more. I should definitely write more. I’m not writing enough. Yeah, I need to wake up earlier and write. Maybe that will help? Maybe if I eat less sugar at night, I’ll wake up earlier in the morning, then I can write more, and make more money to do more pilates, to lower my cortisol levels?
Or maybe I can just let myself be a fcking human!
I am the reason for my overwhelm. There’s nothing extraordinary about my life that is requiring me to expend so much energy. The common denominator of all my stressors is me putting so much pressure on myself. And that realization is equally liberating and frustrating.
This week I realized how much pressure I put on myself to be perfect. Woof, we’re getting a bit intimate for a public forum. Whatever, I’ve got a healthy glass of sauvignon blanc and no inhibitions. Let’s dig in.
I feel like therapy buzzwords coupled with TikTok/internet culture has normalized, but also bastardized, concepts like “perfectionism,” “narcissism,” and even “self-love.” We log onto any social media platform and we’re inundated with therapy speak. FIVE SIGNS YOU’RE DATING A NARCISSIST. Buy This 10-Step Guide to Self-Love! THIS is how you BEAT Perfectionism FOREVER. And before you say it, trust me, I see the irony. This is all coming from the Instagram poet herself.
But of course, I don’t think these sentiments are inherently bad. I think online messages of self-help are important and can be incredibly helpful. Not everyone has access to therapy. Not everyone feels comfortable talking to a therapist. I can recount so many instances where others online words or videos have massively helped me learn, understand, or reshape my perspective. However, I think many of us have become so acquainted with these phrases that they’ve actually lost their value.
You know that feeling when you listen to a good song for the first time and you just know it’s going to be one of your favorite songs? For the first couple weeks, or months, you have the song on repeat. Every time you listen, you sink into the melody, you memorize the words, you absorb the sensations of the rhythms. But after awhile, the song suddenly doesn’t feel like that anymore. You still love the song, but it doesn’t encompass you in the same way it once did. You’ve listened to it so many times that it’s lost the impact of its novelty.
That’s exactly my point. So many of us generously say things like “love yourself” or “protect your peace,” but we don’t actually know what any of it really means. Terms like “perfectionistic” or “anxiously-attached” have become more of a label than a responsibility. We casually say things like “I’m so OCD,” without understanding the mental and emotional turmoil that people diagnosed with OCD often experience.
Just like listening to your favorite song for the first time, the initial understanding of self often feels electric. Accessing language that allows you to finally make sense of your experiences is beautifully cathartic. However, we often allow that electricity to dissipate over time and then all we’re left with is some new words and acronyms.
Week seven slapped me in the face and told me that my perfectionism isn’t just a buzzword. I’ve always labeled myself a perfectionist. And I was comfortable with that. Putting a label on something helps us understand it. And in many instances, that can be healing. But the healing doesn’t just stop there. We don’t get to just slap a label on it and consider it dealt with.
There was no hiding from my perfectionism this week. It encompassed me, it followed me through the day, tormented my mind, and constantly reminded me of all the things I had to get done, all the ways I needed to show up. And if I fell short, which I always did, it came back with vengeance. It told me I’m not good enough, I’m not trying hard enough, I’m not working fast enough. It told me I’m not enough. And that I would never be enough unless I was perfect, but I could never be perfect, so I would never be enough.
Week seven was exhausting.
But truly, I’m grateful for it. I’m glad I got bogged down in its unrelenting pressure, I’m happy I absorbed every ounce of its iniquity. It’s what I needed to realize that my current ways of being aren’t working. It woke me up to the truth that it’s time to be more intentional about my perfectionism. It’s time to stop complaining about it and start acting on it.
So maybe I did connect to something. But perhaps that something was a bit more painful than I expected.
I guess the truth hurts or whatever.
Happy Sunday.
I love you all.
Déjà Rae xxx