Somewhere along the line my vocal wince at intrusive thoughts has become deeply negative, such as âIâm stupidâ or âI hate my lifeâ. This is not optimal, because that vocal wince is how I acknowledge the thoughts and (try to) move on from them.
Because itâs now downright hateful and self-harming, I create a situation where intrusive thoughts come up easier, so I essentially bully myself more often and hello downward spiral.
So now I have to engage with my response to them and thus the THOUGHTS THEMSELVES. And itâs not enough to say âno, I donât hate myselfâ. On a bad day, Iâm forced to list all the things I like about myself or life in general multiple times.
I resent having to talk positively to myself about myself whenever the brainweasels hoik up a âremember when you did this embarassing thing?â or whichever flavour of âyou should feel badâintrusive thought theyâve bought at the discount store recently.
Itâs tiring, itâs necessary and I really fucking wish I didnât have to do it.
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I don't know if this is crossing boundaries to ask so feel free to ignore, but do you have any advice for someone with rejection-sensitive dysphoria, an intolerance for ambiguity and a history of social ostracization / access to the In-Group being dependent on Some Unsafe Shit for figuring out where one stands with an online social circle? Like, if one really feels like they're being neglected / put on a shelf, but doesn't know how to address it without receiving platitudes that it's not
(insecurity ask cont.) Really that bad / wasn't intentional / sure they still LIKE one they just kept happening to be busy at the time - etc. Basically figuring a way through the situation if one doesn't want to do what the Anxiety wants, which is cut run and self isolate, but doesn't find the allistic normative reassurance of "oh no we really do want you around sweaty : )" reassuring or helpful in the least.
This is a live topic of discussion in my friend-groups, since my close social circle is like 95% people with a history of being bullied, serious brainweasels* around social shit and rejection, ASD and/or ADHD, and seriously geeky social skills. So my response is not like, âWe have a Method! It works! Iâm patenting it!â nearly so much as âUm... this is what seems not to have exploded too badly so far.â And Iâm answering this publicly rather than privately because other people have useful things to contribute too.Â
*(Brainweasel = little nasty thing that eats your brain)
(Like seriously if anyone DOES have A Method Iâm all ears because I still do the self-isolation self-destruct way too easily)
Anyway. THE GOOD STUFF (which got really long):
Iâve personally found that it helps to make it really clear to people that if something is wrong, I want to know. I literally say, âMy personal definition of Hell is when I think Iâm having a happy fun time with a friend who is enjoying themselves, but in reality, Iâm annoying them and they secretly resent me for it. Please donât put me in that situation.â Itâs kind of the opposite of asking for validation--itâs trying to reduce my own emotional hypervigilance, and also shifting the burden of dealing with the problem to the other person. Now, if they find me annoying, they have to do something about it--either spend less time with me, or let me know whatâs up.
Asking for things and saying âNo is an okay answer!â
Being open about my wants and needs while also letting people know how much Iâm willing to compromise. âI donât know what anybody else is feeling, but for dinner I have a mild preference for pizza,â or âIâm in the kind of mood where I basically want someone to talk to about this creative project for an hour in a really intense, informed, and interested way that also doesnât step on my creative visionâs toes, or I donât want to talk about it at all. So unless someone really wants to talk about it, howâs the weather?â
If you can find people who are geeks about feelings and have done a lot of introspection and can be very honest, and basically didnât think that Twitter thread about asking friends for consent for emotional labour was a bad thing? Thatâs probably going to help, since when youâre all in the middle of dealing with moderate-to-severe brainweasels that is the kind of wrangling that needs to happen.
Hacking into Dialectical Behaviour Therapy, if you can do it. Iâve had to explain to several people now: DBT is fundamentally about trying to unlearn you from a system of If I Only Behave A Certain Way, Life Will Finally Work Out, to having a more flexible, more adaptive set of skills that you can see in a kind of pro/con fashion and decide which of lifeâs sucky parts youâd rather deal with because it gets you your preferred set of upsides. The problem is: DBT kind of presents itself as a system of If You Only Behave A Certain Way, Life Will Finally Work Out! So especially for my Autistic friends, doing DBT, while useful, involves considerable arguing with the system, deciding which of it works for you and which of it doesnât, and hacking it apart and rearranging it in your own idiosyncratic way. This isnât actually failing to do DBT, itâs using the methods DBT teaches you on DBT itself.Â
Finding a therapist who can treat baseline-neurodivergent LGBTQ+ nerds with complex trauma IS difficult, but not impossible. Not every therapist can do it. (I personally am considering giving up finding one in my city, and making use of the temporary relaxation of restrictions on distance practice across jurisdictional boundaries thanks to COVID-19 and phoning up my old therapist a province over.) If you canât get a personal recommendation, I recommend literally cold-emailing about a half-dozen likely suspects from Psychology Today or Theravive and asking them, âDo you have any training or experience in treating [geeks/adults with complex trauma/queer people/whatever has made therapists act like cats with boots on around you before]?â
To wildly veer back to your original question
Imagine something that someone could do for you that would make you feel warm and loved. Something that would take a minute or less to do. When youâre feeling unloved, say âIâm feeling down, could anyone do [this thing] for me?â Thatâs literally why I ask people to show me cat pictures--I have times when I feel sad and alone and like the entire world hates me, and thatâs a VERY big feeling for anyone to step in and fill, so instead? I ask for cat pics.
This, I should add, required going back into my trauma memories and deprogramming the origin of my Nice Things Are Evil Poison If I Asked The Person To Be Nice To Me brainweasel. Which is part of why Iâm so insistent on asking people not to put me in my personal Hell situation.
Like, sometimes with my clients, we literally create a restaurant menu of Things People Could Do If They Wanted To Be Nice To Me, ranging from cheap $5 items like cat pics and memes to $200 bottles of wine that would be getting married and taking out a mortgage together. Sometimes we talk Love Languages just to go through several different sensory modalities. Then, if creating that menu wasnât scary enough, they start telling their friends whatâs on the list. âI really like things with dragons on themâ or "I love to know when somebodyâs thinking of me even when Iâm not thereâ or âI really wish I had someone to watch movies withâ. This reduces the cognitive load if somebody wants to reach out to you but doesnât know how.
Relatedly: If youâre in a bad mood and doing something to self-regulate, you might consider letting people know whatâs going on. People who are merely being civil might interpret âIâm feeling terrible about myself todayâ as âYou are now socially obligated to blow smoke up my assâ; moderating the statement with a positive attempt to make things better, like âIâm focusing on my shoes a lot today because I feel like crap but they make me happyâ or âIâm going to go try to shake this awful mood with Netflixâ removes that pressure because itâs a problem with a built-in solution, so theyâre not socially impolite if they ignore it. If people want to be emotionally closer to you, it opens the door for them to either ask about your problem, or contribute to your solution (âOooh, I do like those shoesâ) (âHave you seen this new series?â).
Okay so
Hereâs the other thing
When youâre used to the one being rejected, you can spend SO much energy trying to make relationships work, and when they donât, you just kind of shut down and fall over
What if (if you scraped together enough spare Cope) you said to yourself, âWhatever is going on--whether itâs them, or me, or whatever--I am not getting my needs met, so Iâm going to back away from them a bit and focus on finding something new? They may not be evil or bad, but Iâm going to downgrade them on my priority list.â
Like Iâm just saying: Think about it. Every once in a while itâs possible it isnât your fault, but the other person... just isnât up to being the kind of friend you need right now, and no effort of yours can improve them at this time, so youâre going to let them shape up if they can but start focusing your attention elsewhere.
I realize thatâs like the social equivalent of asking a homeless person to dip into their savings and start a business. But, just... sometimes you just need better friends.
Okay, itâs 2am and Iâve run out of ideas. Anyone else?
Been looking for advice for invigilators/teachers with ADHD, because they seem to have to closest thing of "gotta do something" my brain has. But all the googles show me is info for students. Which is good! Students need support!
But by all the gods I need to find out how to invigilate without painful thought spirals before I go complete moggy and do naked loops around Mandela Square or something*
*I would never. It's too far, and also too goddamned cold
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Brain: wanna do something
Me: What?
Brain: something
Me: Liiiiike? *lists half a dozen things in the hopes that one clicks*
Brain:Â no
Me:Â Then what?
Brain: ...
Brain: somethingÂ
This is my life right now: I can only do short burts of anything, and a couple weeks ago (I know, okay?) I had a four-day migraine and ended up with a pot of... something... that I couldn't face during postdrome, and then had to scramble for rent, and then shit happened but I'm doing as much as I can with intervals of lying down for an hour or so throughout the day while I rwlisten to my class recordings so I imagine I'm doing something. Anyway. Oversensitive gag reflex, freaking out and being really busy and no sleep schedule to speak of.
So here I am in my garden, with enough ambient light to see by because clouds and city, listening to Dead Can Dance (because nostalgia) on shuffle, digging a hole so I can finally bury that pot's contents without anyone seeing me or horking out my guts, while Partner sleeps off his hospital visit. It's a beautiful scene, except for whatever I'm trying to build up the courage to bury. It's immmensely surreal.
