Three Wise Men (She + Him)

 I had to be careful here because I was going to write (She/Him) in brackets, but I didn't want to offend anyone. The reality is that one of my "Wise Men" is "Anodea" and I honestly have no idea if that is a male or female name.   

(Not that in 2020 it matters anyways because we can all associate with whatever suits us best.)

I even struggled with Three Wise Men.   

Should it be Three Wise People or Two Wise Women + A Wise Man or maybe the man isn't wise at all and it's Two Wise Women + A Man?

I compromised.  

Three Wise Men (She + Him)

I think I safely covered everyone.

***

I think I have solved my mental health. (insert footnote)

I realize that is a hell of a bold statement to make and I'm a teeny bit afraid to say it publicly in case I have an absolute meltdown tomorrow and I'm dead wrong.

I say "solved"  though because I don't think mental health is something to be cured, I think it's a problem to be solved.

Sometimes it is really freaking dark and difficult to see above the weeds, and we get trapped in mud that feels like quicksand, unable to see the way out.  Those times are messages though, trying to tell us something that needs to be changed or where we are misaligned.   Just like the magicians who undo themselves from a straitjacket, I believe if you keep doing the work, when you least expect it the answer appears and it's clear as day where the light is and what you need to do to get out.

I have never been as close to a relapse to anti-depressants as I was this December.

In fairness, I've done quite well.   I have lost a job, sold my home, moved, started a new job, suffered a really, really painful separation, and what else?   There was something else.

Oh yeah.

COVID.

No further explanation required.

This was a year of transition and growth that tested every ounce of strength and resilience I have.  I found grace in morning sunsets and writing, my routine of walking the beach and finding gratitude in each day for something, even as small as one piece of dark chocolate after dinner.

(God, I sound like a self-help sage.)

As the days started to unfold this month, I felt myself subconsciously counting down to the finish line, assuming not much else could happen this year.

In fact, I even had hope to finish on a high.

I was super excited for a workshop we had planned corporately for December 17th.  

We had a Master Facilitation Expert from Chicago virtually coming to work with our team and each of us had to present a 5 minute lecture in the morning on any topic we wanted, and a 10 minute piece in the afternoon that incorporated our virtual facilitation techniques using the platform we teach from.

On my professional goals for December, I had written "Attain 10/10 on my presentation on the 17th."

(Perfectly rational goal since I have never had a full-time facilitation job in my life, received one ounce of training as to how to facilitate effectively virtually, nor did I ask any questions about what was expected of us during this timeframe.)

In my mind, I was delivering my first ever TED talk.   

I wrote my presentation three weeks in advance.   

I practiced.   

I rehearsed.   

I recorded it.   

I played it back.   

I edited the slides.   

I edited the content.   

I practiced.   

I practiced.   

I practiced.

I sat in front of my computer on December 17th with cold sweaty hands and thought - "There is absolutely nothing I could've done differently.   I have prepared for this day.   I am ready."

The lessons I learned from this experience, since that day, have only happened because of my relentless determination to "solve" the problem underneath the tsunami of emotion - from sitting in it all until I could climb out of the mud.

I wasn't 10/10.

At best, I was a 6.5 or 7 and today I can tell you I know now exactly where I need to put my effort to improve.

At that moment however, I was completely and utterly emotionally crippled from the feedback I received and it would seem insane to anyone else who heard the information delivered to me that I would internalize it the way I did.

I practiced and put some much effort into preparation.   How could I have blown it?

Other people did better than I did who didn't prepare the same.   Maybe I'm not cut out for this.   Maybe I just need to call it a day on a dream to be a public speaker and set some realistic goals.

The instructions should have been given differently.   I worked so hard.   If the instructions were different, I would've prepared differently.

I'm not well.   I know I'm not thinking clearly.   I don't have anything left this year.   I can't handle it.  Maybe I need to call the doctor and get a prescription to ride this out and come off them in the Spring and try this whole living naturally thing again. Maybe this is all just too much this year and that's okay.

The last straw was my first Wise Man.

I thought I had put on an Oscar winning performance of getting through the day (apparently I didn't) and the next morning I was still reeling and trying to refocus on another task.

That little Jetson's sounding video call came through and it was my boss.

He seems to have this annoying, lovely way of checking on me  (knowingly or not)  when I'm not doing well, always with an excuse (real or not) of another reason to call.

He shared with me that morning something that set off a chain of Oh My God moments (I like this better than Ah-Ha moments which sounds so cliche) that I may have never processed if I clung to my usual lifeline.

He said "Sarah, do you know what holds you back?"

I rambled a bunch of things that were not what he was hoping for.

He said "It's your ability to receive and handle feedback."

This did not go well as it hit all my shame and perfectionistic buttons which I grasp onto for dear life when being corrected.

My responses went like this.

"I have never been able to receive feedback well."

"I struggle with perfectionism.   It dates back to when I was a child."

"I was medicated for years for this.  I know I'm not handling it well.   I don't know how to."

His reply was that feedback is part of how we operate and how and when would I like to receive feedback in the future?

"Um, never."

That was my response.

Never.   

You may never share with me how to get better because I can't handle it.

Shit.

***

I started to ask myself a lot of really tough questions. 

(After crying, thinking there is something wrong with me and deciding that I wasn't going back on anti-depressants regardless of how many days in a row I cried.   I was figuring this out.   Period.)

What is it about the feedback I am having a hard time with?

Is this feedback true?

Will this make me better or help me improve if I try what they are suggesting?

What really is my issue with all this?

This whole trial I had put myself on led me to pull out a reference book that I own because it's a cool Yogi book to have, but haven't really ever put to use.

This is where Anodea comes in - my second Wise Man, a.k.a. "Eastern Body, Western Mind".

(I looked up Anodea.   It's a she.   She has letters beside her name for everything.   Ph.D in Health and Human Services, Masters in Clinical Psych.  Training in bioenergetics, trauma, yoga, shamanism .... the list goes on and on.  She is a very Wise Woman.)

There was one paragraph in this book that resonated so deeply with me, I knew the second I read it I would never be the same.

"Shame as a healthy human emotion can be transformed into shame as a state of being.   As a state of being, shame takes over one's whole identity.   To have shame as an identity is to believe that one's being is flawed, that one is defective as a human being. Once shame transformed into an identity, it becomes toxic and dehumanizing." - John Bradshaw

I receive feedback as an attack.

I have battled OCD, Perfectionism, Anxiety and all kinds of mental wars and feedback is a reminder to me that I'm not perfect and my brain translates the message to "I am flawed".

"It is not what happens to us, but our response to what happens to us that actually hurts us." - Stephen Covey

This was a huge revelation to me because I realized I have a choice.

I can continue to make excuses, blame my past, my experiences, my "disorders" (which I will forever go down fighting that more are "solvable" / curable, than not) - or I can look through a different lens.

***

I sat on this for a couple of days.

Was the feedback true?

Was the feedback necessary?

Will using this feedback help me to get better?

I wasn't letting up, because the key to receiving this feedback is a shift in every aspect of my thought process.

"It's not the critic who counts."

I kept visualizing this breaker.   If I can just flip this mental breaker, it will change everything.   I know it's there.   I can see it.   There is a way of life beyond this self shaming, self depreciating way of existence.  

Damn it.  

What is it that I need to see differently?

Over and over again, I asked myself the same thing.

And then, absolutely clear as day, it happened.

I gave myself the gift of detachment.

It was the strangest thing.

I can see my entire life in reverse through a magnifying glass.   

It is completely bizarre.

I am not the feedback.   

I am not the comments or suggestions or the performance reviews or the failures or the successes or any of it.

I am not what has happened to me along the way.

For years, I have attached my happiness or my self-worth to results or things outside of my control.

It is so easy to write that or say it from a clinical perspective - but the moment you live it and see what you are doing as clearly as I have, it is like seeing colour for the first time.

The feedback wasn't the issue.

The expectations were the issue.

Receive 10/10 on your presentation.

That means 9/10  was bringing a wave of grief with it.

That means I am allowing the result to dictate my mood.

That means I am allowing any result to swing me one way or the other.

I had no idea that holding this mindset was also keeping me as a rigid hostage.

Peace was hovering in the background and lay in detaching from the outcome and releasing all expectations.

***

Edith Eger is a 93 year old Holocaust survivor who's parents were murdered in a gas chamber, while she had to dance for the man sent them to death and was starved, beaten and held captive.  Her story has been published in an international Best Seller called "The Choice" and she now lives life as a Clinical Psychologist who specializes in treating PTSD.

When I purchased her most recent book called "The Gift", I had no idea the imprint it would leave.

In The Gift, Eger explains that the most persistent prison she experienced was not the prison the Nazis put her in but the one she created for herself - the prison within her own mind.

She says: "Many of us experience feeling trapped.   Our thoughts and beliefs determine, and often limit, how we feel, what we do, and what we think is possible.  In my work I've discovered that while our imprisoning beliefs show up and play out in unique ways, there are some common mental prisons that contribute to our suffering.  This book is a practical guide to help us identify our mental prisons and develop the tools we need to break free."

Edith Eger carried the Myrrh to me.

I have read thousands of self-help books and nothing that compares to this.

It has even made me shake my head at myself at times. 

While reading the chapter on the mental prison of Avoidance, I actually put the book down for two weeks because I couldn't face what she was saying.  Then I realized how comical it was and clearly it was one of my issues I needed to deal with.

She reminds us that no one rejects you, but you - and she discusses everything from guilt, shame and unresolved grief to judgment, fear and holding secrets.

This book was the cherry on top for me to stop suffering needlessly in my comfy mental prison.

***

The past week I have approached life with slight disbelief and curiosity.

Every now and then, the Gremlins do a little dance in my head.

You are just having a lucky few days.

Just wait until the next round of feedback or trauma.  I'm sure you'll crash.

This was a fluke that you handled this this way.   

And then I stop and tell myself "Get out of your head."

Separate.   Detach.   Observe.   

Is this true?

Is it necessary?

What is this trying to tell you?

And then I smile.

hmmm.

What if we saw those wise men carrying clues, instead of critiques - could it change the filter we receive messages through?

If we were able to detach and see the lessons like they were playing out on a movie screen in front of us, could we see the message separate from us, instead of defining us?

Is it possible that we could approach our mental health as a problem to solve, instead of an illness to cure?

Maybe anxiety is a messenger instead of a disorder, and waves of emotion can bring an epiphany if you just learn how to surf.

***

Footnote ~

It might be a stretch to say I've "solved" my mental health - but I've come a long way from visiting the second floor psych ward, nervously dreading and waiting to see one of the top psychiatric doctors in Canada -  owning my place in the mental illness statistics and feeling broken, victimized and ashamed.  

(I feel fairly confident I've earned my stripes in discussing this topic.)

I'm not anti-medication, although I do believe as a society we are over-prescribed.

I use my own path as a benchmark, and when I discover something fascinating that I think my experience could help even one other person by - I write it all down as quickly as possible and hit publish, without allowing too much time to second guess myself or change my mind.

My hope is that somewhere out there, someone reads a sentence I have written and it lights a spark or creates that Oh My God moment - and perhaps that spark sets off another chain reaction of "mental" medication and evolutionary shifts required to heal. 

My dream is that I can contribute to making a dent into the Mental Health crisis and shine a flashlight forward; reminding others that it's never too late to find the way out.   

My wish is that I'm not crazy, I'm right - and perhaps there is a healthier way of living for us all. 

I believe the gifts are worth it if you open the door.   

✨