Get it Out!
Stop Suffering and Just Talk About It
I am the queen of taking a thought and chewing on it for literally days at a time until it nowhere near resembles the initial actual statement, feeling or idea of its origin. Fellow ruminators will totally get me on this. Give me even a hint of a red flag in my mind and I will take it and wring it inside, outside, upside down. A new challenge at work? Oh my! My mind grabs my insecurities and goes to all the ways I am incapable of completing the task successfully, all the ways I will screw up, then how embarrassed I will be and the words my boss will use to describe my inadequacies, on and on and on. Rinse and repeat. My mind thinks it is in control and can predict the future.
In a coaching training course I completed a while ago, we took turns practicing our listening and question-asking skills with fellow participants, using actual workplace issues as our functional material. Wanting to be genuine and vulnerable (highly encouraged in this setting) I took an issue that I was grappling with (see above paragraph) and honestly needed help working through, because—surprise, surprise—the circular thoughts in my mind weren’t getting me very far. I let it all hang out there with these strangers and let them poke and prod me with questions, bringing me (almost) to tears with their probing, until, thankfully, we ran out of time and the flogging ended. Did these rookie coaches solve my problem and end my suffering? Absolutely not (and that is not what coaching is supposed to do), but what they did do—unbeknownst to them—is allow me the space to get my problem out into the ether and out of my headspace. Ahh, my brain could relax and expand once again.
Was this an instant fix? Did I immediately have the answer to my dilemma and charge right in and solve the problem? Not at all; I felt small and exhausted for the next two days (AKA a “vulnerability hangover”). But you know what? I wasn't ruminating about the issue any more. I had the start of next steps—the ruby slippers that were there all along—and that is all I needed to get out of my head and move on.
Years ago I was sitting in on a therapy session with a family member, and the psychologist—a master in cognitive behavioral therapy—gave an example of how our thoughts are sometimes distorted and we don’t see a real scenario happening in front of us, but want to view it from our injured egoic state to fit our mind’s perception of the world. He asked us to imagine our mind’s eye looking out from a swivel chair that could only move in a 180 degree arc. If we turn all the way to the left, we see one radical scenario of an event and if we turn all the way to the right we see the opposite radical scenario. Neither deals in facts and actual happenings, but, depending on our self and world view, appears real to us nonetheless. The actual scenario is looking straight ahead—neither good nor bad, just reality. Our thoughts and perceptions usually take us somewhere along that 180 degree arc, rarely looking straight ahead, protecting us from being hurt in ways we have been in the past, and in people with disorders like depression and obsessive compulsive behavior, actually causing significant distress in their life.
As an insecure ruminator craving approval from external sources, I have fallen into the trap of believing I could solve my problems alone with just my mind, that I was looking at a problem correctly and realistically and had all the facts needed to work through it. Of course this is not true for anyone, but once my mind gets ahold of something it doesn’t want to let go, even if the consequences bring me down, limit me or cause inaction on important issues. The “Aha!” moment for me during the training was that talking out loud about my conundrum—actually answering probing questions of the story I was telling myself about my problem and deeply questioning the view from my swivel chair, asking myself, “What does looking straight in front of me look like? What are the facts and what am I just telling myself?”—knocked my mind back into reality and out of its limiting barriers. I remembered using a similar technique of writing down my distorted thinking when dealing with states of depression years ago.
My personal formula for dealing with limiting thoughts and ruminations?
Recognize them.
In case you missed it, rumination is my MO. It’s just going to happen, so I have to be ultra aware of when the turning hamster wheel is on and in “unproductive” mode. Whenever I face a hurdle that won’t go away, when I feel stuck in a situation and can’t move on, it’s time to fight back and deal with it.
Talk it out.
I don’t have a formal coach or mentor to help talk me through turning my swivel chair to reality, so I will ask a good friend or family member to mirror back my thoughts, challenging me to focus on the reality of the situation and not the distorted scenarios whirling through my mind.
Or…
Write it out.
I know that sometimes my situation might be too embarrassing and personal, so I will write it out, first writing what actually happened—just the facts, no interpretation—being careful of describing others’ feelings, thoughts or intentions, because I really don’t know them. Next I’ll write how the situation makes me feel and my perceptions of what happened or what I think will happen. Just doing this alone will help me get out my angst and start feeling better. Then, I will think of all the other realities that are possibilities beyond my singular perception—A could be true, B could be true or C could be true. This will stun me back to the realization that I don’t have the definitive scenario on the situation and bring me back closer to reality so I can deal with the problem.
A little introspection can work wonders in helping us move toward a more fulfilling life but a lot or rumination can be a handicap. While I embrace all that I am—hamster wheel and all—a better understanding of my shortfalls and areas of growth, especially when stuck on that squeaky wheel, is liberating and empowering.
