Thank you for the RRP with Anna Lembke on addiction, especially minutes 26-30 when she talks about dopamine deficit states, and minutes 51-54-ish where they discuss the difference between acute and protracted withdrawal. Protracted withdrawal, which is more psychological, can go on for months and years and includes irritability, anxiety, depression, insomnia, etc.
There are always circumstances I can point to as depressing. And there are also circumstances I can point to as uplifting. They say it’s our (malleable) perspective on all the concrete stuff, “good” and “bad,” that determines how we consequently feel. But sometimes how we feel, influenced by addictions and withdrawal, works in reverse to color our perspectives on the more concrete life circumstances. It’s important to look for this effect and be aware when it happens.
Realizing that both moods and perspectives can be influenced by withdrawal from substances and other so-called “addictions” has motivated me to be less addicted, sidestepping the need for will power. Instead of willpower there is power in awareness of what happens when I get hooked on something and how unsustainable, even long-term defeating, the momentary pleasure or relief is. The pull to escape pain and pursue feeling good may be there every day but doesn’t completely rule me, at least not all the time. I’m grateful for that.
Do I constantly feel tempted to do what will be less than healthy in the long term? Yes. Do I indulge the more obviously dangerous cravings? No. My biggest addictions lately involve screen time. Thankfully, will power is not something that ever worked for me, so part of me knows it’s futile to try that. Mindfulness in conjunction with education and released from anxiety is especially effective. Sometimes this can be as simple as taking a few seconds to think through the long-term consequences of indulging an impulse. (It helps me to see that I may feel temporary relief but will be even more down the following day or two.) Or it can be stopping to realize that I do have a choice when it feels like I don’t. Little stuff like that helps with my anxiety and addictive impulses.
Thank you for patience gained from cleaning up after a gnarly toilet mishap.
Thank you for the sound of rain. It’s beautiful. It thrills me. It scares me. It reminds me of the more extreme weather we are causing. It touches my heart. It takes me back to my dad’s last days. We had so much rain then. He would wake up on occasion and point to the window. It was his way of asking, “Is there water out there?” So we’d shake or nod our heads to let him know. When he was well, if a storm came, he always wanted to make sure the drains on the roof weren’t clogged. He’d check for leaks and such. That’s who he was. He didn’t seem to know any other way to be than to look after the house and us.
Thank you for a new way to make lists and keep myself accountable. Recently I switched away from the weekly self-care chart, where for each day of the week I’d cross off as many self-care cells as possible: yoga, walking/biking/jogging, reading, writing, meditating, studying French. Those were baseline activities I felt needed to happen on a pretty regular basis to keep me somewhat healthy (in addition to nurturing relationships, searching for a permanent residence, daily living tasks, finding a passion.)… But you know what? Crossing items off a list is not so rewarding anymore. It even leaves me feeling defeated. So instead of making a chart with boxes that get X-ed out every day, I’m writing in what I do as if each activity is an accomplishment added to life rather than something to be checked off. This new way feels better. I almost realize a little bit here and there that daily life can be exciting. It’s a privilege to do what we do every single day. Hopefully, without ignoring the huge existential challenges humanity faces, excitement for life will build in me this year (which will better equip me to deal with those huge challenges).
Thank you for New Year’s resolutions. Here are some thoughts:
Think of yearly, monthly, or long term, rather than daily goals.
Instead of crossing off to-do’s, add up accomplishments. (Make it additive rather than subtractive?)
Find healthy replacements for screen time, especially for music app (which may have been feeding delusions or at least expectations, and was damaging to my mental health), game apps, and YouTube.
Be more giving. (It will help to be specific.)
Achieve greater stability. (It will help to be specific.)
Organize and re-think blog. (Ditto.)
Thank you for a listen to Ryan Holiday today on RRP (without that one app, I listen to the RRP more). He was talking about the value of sitting quietly with your own thoughts. I think doing that is really difficult and important. Like last night, I wanted to veg out with sudoku or thrift shop online until my eyes couldn’t stay open. Instead, I lay in bed quietly in the dark. I let feelings of sadness and abandonment bleed into my awareness. I felt the hurt that was already eating up my insides. It was there before, but sitting quietly allowed it to seep through. That’s how I fell asleep, in emotional distress. Waking up this morning was hardly better. The rain was torrential and my insides stormed to match. But the rest of the day has been calm, content, and strong. The painful moments took me back to November 2017 when I felt sort of brokenhearted. One day I floated in the ocean and did nothing but rest there feeing sadness. It really helped. So, yes, Ryan Holiday, I agree with you. Sitting quietly is not for the weak. Feeling the pain of life is not easy. If you choose that path, it will do good for your heart and mind. Ironically, feeling the misery has given me deeper, more genuine contentment. Like right now, I appreciate life and have love in my heart.
Thank you for all of the kindness you have shown in big and small ways, which is more than you probably realize. Merry Christmas <3