Works for Me

If you're an emotional eater, you may turn to food to stuff down some very important words - words that need saying, but feel scary or wrong to say. Words like "No" and "I don't want to."

One of the most important communication skills I've ever learned comes from my beloved mentor and therapist, Robyn Posin. From Robyn I learned these magic words:

"It just doesn't work for me."

This is all the reason any of us needs to say "no" or set a boundary.  What I love about this phrase is that it eliminates the good-bad, right-wrong, win-lose nature of many boundary setting conversations. It makes it okay for people to ask for what they need, and it makes it okay to say or be told "no." This fundamental okay-ness, creates safety. No one get's judged, criticized, or otherwise bashed. It also eliminates resentment. No one says yes out of fear of negative consequences.

This is not to say that it's always easy to use this skill. There are those who will never be able to hear "no" in any form and take it well. Again, the good news is that if they can't even handle hearing "no," then there is no point in trying to convince or explain. You can save your breath and your energy and walk away.

Many of us feel afraid to set such clear and clean boundaries. We fear losing the people in our lives or hurting them. If you lose someone for honoring your true needs, your life may be better without them. If someone is hurt by your honesty, especially when phrased in a non-critical, non-shaming way, then they were already hurting before you got there. It's their job to heal whatever is injured in them, not yours.

Who is Your Body FOR? (a little saturday morning rant)

Guess what? Your body is for you. Your life is for you too. If the word, "selfish" is flashing in your mind? Brush it away. Don't let it distract you from what I'm about to say.

My friend and fellow therapist, Valerie Torres, posted this article on Facebook today:

Waxing: Damned if you Do an Damned if you Don't: How Pubic Hair Became Political

Which then launched us into a conversation about how sad it is that teenagers are still being indoctrinated into self-mutilation in one form or another to conform to an artificial standard of beauty that is neither healthy nor in their best interest.

This is true of a host of culturally encouraged behaviors from crazy diets, to walking in torturous shoes, to plastic surgery, to hair removal (which often results in cuts, ingrown hairs, and weirdly unattractive 5pm shadow - akin to plucked chicken skin). Pain is not sexy. Neither are sexual partners that objectify us or our body parts.

What I find most painful about this ongoing historical and multi-cultural phenomenon is how sad it is that anyone has to choose between feeling valued, wanted, included, etc. and feeling like who they are is just fine without one iota of alteration.

When one person is deemed "less than" based on appearance, taste, beliefs, choices, etc., we all suffer. We could be next. And the mammalian drive to be part of a pair, a family, a group is powerful. It's evolved over millions of years to ensure our safety. So we will betray ourselves to be part of the larger social structure - especially to be sexy, and pass our genes down to the next generation.

Yet, changing your appearance (or really anything about you) to please other people is a betrayal of your very own self. Do you really want to live inside the body of someone who will sell you out to fit in? It's a crazy making thing. I'm sure there's a German word to describe the dilemma. If anyone knows what it is, please post it in the comments.

Our only recourse is to commit to each others' safety by practicing acceptance and teaching acceptance. Don't get all hyperbolic and ask if this means we have to accept axe murderers. That's not what I'm saying. I'm saying we all need to be loved and accepted, hairy or smooth, tall or short, fat or thin.

Your body is for YOU. Your life is for YOU. If the people in your circles need you to be different from who you are, please find new people.

Helpless Humiliation and Wondrous Healing

So in my last post I mentioned that out of my year of difficulty, I gained some wonderful wisdom that I might not have been open to had I not been in serious emotional pain. So here's one of the most important things I've learned.

First, the world is not always a safe place. Neither is it always a dangerous place. For me it has been mostly safe physically, and often times, not so safe emotionally. Anger, sadness, pain, loneliness and fear were not welcomed in my family. My mother regularly let me know I was "too sensitive." My father loved to provoke me to anger and then laugh, leaving me feeling helpless and humiliated.  I stayed small, quiet, and ate away my feelings and needs, since neither of my parents had the capacity to provide safety or soothing.

Yet over the years I have discovered that in the presence of people who are kind and respectful, I thrive. I am resilient. Even in the midst of a stinker of a year, I can lift up my head and feel awe watching bees drinking from flowers (especially knowing that bees are struggling to stay alive these days). I still believe in miracles like butter, redwood trees, sweat pants, and being held close by someone who loves me.

I am deeply aware that I am not alone. There is no way to get through this life unscathed. The trick is to remain open hearted or "whole-hearted" as Brené Brown likes to say. For me, keeping an open heart requires feeling safe in the company of other people. In this past year, I have been battered by people who, I'm sure, have been battered themselves.

The insurance rep, who I mentioned last time, was like a stern school principal, certain that every client is going to attempt insurance fraud. The contractor who was fond of bending the truth, I'm sure feels tossed around by the whims of the economy, trying to make as much money as possible while there is work available. With these pressures, it's easy to lose integrity and become untrustworthy.

For me, dealing with these personalities daily felt like I was being ground into fine dust - an apt metaphor since most of my house was covered in plaster dust. What was being ground away was my civility, my politeness, my calm. The raw nerves underneath were angry. And not just any kind of anger, but the most poisonous type: helpless rage.

At the time I didn't know that my armor (civility, politeness and calm) was about to be cracked open so I would have to heal that old wound inside - humiliation.

I've long understood that the pairing of anger and fear in me was connected to how my anger was treated when I was little. I didn't fully understand that it was a fear of being humiliated. I didn't know yet that the brain registers humiliation as a traumatic experience. As social creatures, humiliation, which separates us from the safety of others, is a threat. It turns out that sticks, stones AND words can all hurt us.

So enter insurance guy who treats me like a naughty child. Slightly humiliating. Enter contractor who keeps "forgetting" that he needed another day's work for this and another list of supplies for that. Mix in a husband who is worried that we won't be able to find anyone else to do the work (another long story of how difficult it was to find this guy in the first place). And I don't feel like I have any power - like the power to fire the guy - in our negotiations. Mix in a few personal attacks from a family member who has his own abuse history and tends toward abusive behavior when he's stressed out. And it's the perfect storm.

I lose my composure. I lose my cool. I lose my shit.
And it's about time.

At first my anger comes mixed in with the humiliation and the fear. I hate this kind of anger - hard to feel strong when your voice is shaking and you're sweaty and half your thoughts disappear in a fine, red mist before you can say them aloud. This is the vagus nerve, shutting down the body in the expectation that you're about to be eaten. Sucks when you're trying to stand up for yourself.

But over the next few weeks, through an amazing process called Somatic Experiencing, I start to embrace my healthy, strong, no-one-can-mess-with-me, anger. I like to call this Big Cat anger. The image in my mind is of a lioness, lying in tall grass, peaceful and alert. Muscles relaxed but also ready, if needed, at any moment. This calm is so different from the suffocating armor of being small and quiet and eating instead of biting in anger. It's a peace that comes from knowing that with one roar, one swipe of my claws, I can take down any of life's hyenas. And in that knowing, not needing to take anyone down. Just raising an eyebrow when someone is being a jerk, as if to say, "Really? Do you know who I am?"

In this state of empowerment, the world looks brighter, sharper, clearer. My body feels stronger, more agile, and my mind feels awake, open. My heart is open too. Safe to love even more deeply.

This is how healing from attachment trauma goes. We use the best and only defenses available as kids to keep ourselves safe and connected to family that should, but can't, protect and cherish us. For most of us, the defense involves being what our families needed us to be - the good one, the bad one, the skinny one, the fat one. And then those defenses fail. At first it can be terrifying. But moving through the process consciously, with the help of someone who gets it and cares allows for transformation - new strengths, new awareness and a deepening feeling of grounding, and centering. We become our Big Cat selves.

So, that was a year

It's more than a year since my last post. And honestly there is a tiny twinge of guilt from the Should committee in my head. But it's tiny, and it's being hugged and loved by the Breathe committee and the Everything's Okay committee.

And then, WOW! I have a Breathe and Everything's okay committee!!!! I didn't always. So it feels kind of miraculous that they are here, so very present and available when I need them. Ahhhh.

It's been quite a year. My mom, now 80-something, has had some form of dementia - memory problems, concentration problems, and her anxiety has finally caught up to her now that she can't escape it through busy-ness, self-distraction and overwork. My dad had a little cancer - really a little, thank goodness. But still enough for some surgery which is hard on any body, but especially one that is 85.

My sisters fortunately handled the bulk of the care-giving duties, but they got soooo burned out. In the easiest of families, aging is hard. In my very dysfunctional family, it's mayhem. Several trips to Los Angeles, many phone calls, lots of conversations with doctors and hand-holding at various appointments, and everything I've ever learned as a therapist and a therapy client was tested to the limits.

In late July, a water hose in my kitchen failed while I was at work, and the whole first floor of my house flooded. The contents of the first floor - furniture, dishes, appliances, rugs - basically everything - was relocated to the upstairs bedrooms and garage. Kitchen cabinets were removed. Portions of the walls cut out or studded with drill-holes so that giant dryers could dry the walls and insulation, avoiding future mold problems. The insurance representative was more like a stern school principal (certain that everyone is committing insurance fraud) than a helpful partner. The contractor (as I've learned is common) was painfully slow, expensive, and a bit of lying liar.

I had an immediate trauma response - shock, followed by intense anxiety and then a near-complete shut-down of my emotional-relational system.

Miraculously, I was able to work, compartmentalizing my personal trauma somehow. Work was a kind of life-line. I knew that if I could show up and be present for my clients, parts of me were still resilient enough to come back on-line when the time was right. I am still in the process of thawing out. My parents are mostly stable. My house is functional and in many ways, much nicer and newer than before. And the Breathe and Everything's Okay committees are here with lots of hugs, walks in the woods and mugs of hot cocoa and tea.

I would not wish this year on anyone. Yet, I have come out of it with precious, delicious and soul-feeding wisdom I may not have otherwise been open to receiving. In my next posts I will share more of this. Today I just wanted to say Hi again. It's been so long.

This book will change your life

Have you ever wondered, how did that Julie Levin get to be so skilled in the ways of self care? The answer is my therapist, consultant, teacher, and mentor for many years, Robyn Posin. Robyn is the person who provided me with a detailed map to give myself the love and gentleness that I always needed, but never received. As a therapist I have, in turn, had the honor of sharing Robyn's wisdom with my clients and seeing over and over how learning to give ourselves loving care, self-acceptance, and protection from anything that feels "not right" leads to profound healing and freedom.

If you want to go straight to her book, here's the link:
Go Only As Fast As Your Slowest Part Feels Safe To Go: Tales To Kindle Gentleness and Compassion For Our Exhausted Selves

Robyn's writings are a treasure trove of "how to love yourself" stories. And what works so well for me is that Robyn's stories are never written in "you should do it this way" form. Instead, she writes about times in her life when she has struggled with a problem, a person or her own inner critic. Then she shares how her own "inner mommy" helped her through those struggles with love, acceptance, patience, and tenderness. Reading her stories, I've found my inner voices saying, "Me too, me too, me too!" seeing myself in the painful moments and then finding solace, hope and a new way of being with myself as she shares a profound learning that came through the pain.

With a feminist lens, Robyn is able to articulate with clarity, humor and kindness, how we are socialized to go against ourselves, dismissing and denying our physical and emotional needs.

Maybe we don't need more energy drinks. Maybe we need our own permission to take naps when we're tired! Maybe that sinking feeling in our belies is a signal that we've just said "yes" when we really wanted to say "NO!" Maybe we don't need another diet book, but instead a way of listening inward to our true hungers and then honoring them.

If you've been wanting the guidebook through the land of your truest self, you will LOVE, LOVE, LOVE this book,
Go Only As Fast As Your Slowest Part Feels Safe To Go: Tales To Kindle Gentleness and Compassion For Our Exhausted Selves

The End of the World, and Dinner

On December 21st, there was an event called, “The End of the World, and Dinner.” The tongue-in-cheek wording of the invitation made me smile. On Facebook, someone shared a weather report from that week, in which the doomsday forecast showed fiery chunks of brimstone pelting the earth, predicted temperature: 1200 degrees. Hysterical.

In the same week, my beloved Honda died at the age of 15. As a therapist, the irony was not lost on me – the car blew a gasket. How perfect. And how perfect that I had saved just the right amount of money in my emergency fund to buy a new car.

Of course, as soon as I paid for the car, we had another emergency. My husband’s car had a crumpled strut (sounds like a pastry, doesn’t it?). Despite my ability to laugh at the end of the world just a few days before, feelings of fear and stress began to surge when I learned how much the repairs would cost. I looked around for someone or something to blame – and because I was looking, I found it.

I began to question my decision to replace my old Honda, rather than repair it (blaming myself). I thought mean thoughts about my husband’s car maintenance habits (blaming him). I wondered if I negotiated hard enough for the new car (self blame again). I faulted both of us for over-spending and not being good savers (two in one!). I felt a weight pressing in on my chest. The most important relationships in my life – the one with my husband and the one with myself – were under attack. By ME.

This is how the world “ends” for most of us on a regular basis. We get stuck in a pattern of fear, anger, shame and blame. Either we turn on ourselves or we turn on the people closest to us (or both). Sometimes we even turn on unsuspecting strangers. I was fortunate to see pretty quickly what was happening – that I was creating a catastrophe where there really wasn’t one.

My inner seven year old likes having the emergency fund fully funded. And she gets very scared when we use it for – you know – emergencies. But I saw what she was up to, and I sat with her while she ranted and railed. I didn’t try talking her out of her pain. I know that doesn’t work. I validated how scared she was, how hard it was to trust that all would be well.

Because I’ve had great therapy, I know that when my inner seven year old is triggered my job is to hold her tight till she can see straight again. I can give her what my parents could not: my own loving and accepting presence. And when she has that, everything gets easier. She calms down faster. She feels safer. She knows that she can tantrum and stomp and hate how stupid the whole world is, and she will still be loved and held. Ahhh.

After the world ends, we have dinner. All is well.

May you all feel your own loving arms around you whenever you need comfort or care in the coming year.

Inspirations for Self-Care in the New Year

Don't place your mistakes on your head, their weight may crush you. Instead, place them under your feet and use them as a platform to view your horizons.

- Unknown

And there was a new voice

Which you slowly recognized as your own,

That kept you company

As you strode deeper and deeper

into the world, determined to do

the only thing you could do –

determined to save

the only life you could save

- Mary Oliver

Too many people undervalue what they are and overvalue what they’re not.

- Unknown

The person in life that you will always be with the most, is yourself... What kind of person do you want to walk down the street with? What kind of person do you want to wake up in the morning with? What kind of person do you want to see at the end of the day before you fall asleep? Because that person is yourself, and it's your responsibility to be that person you want to be with.
― C. JoyBell C.

When I loved myself enough, I began leaving whatever wasn't healthy. This meant people, jobs, my own beliefs and habits - anything that kept me small. My judgment called it disloyal. Now I see it as self-loving.
― Kim McMillen

You yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection.
― Siddhārtha Gautama

No amount of self-improvement can make up for any lack of self-acceptance.
― Robert Holden

For the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: 'If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?' And whenever the answer has been 'No' for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.
- Steve Jobs

Buy or borrow self-improvement books, but don't read them. Stack them around your bedroom and use them as places to rest bowls of cookies. Watch exercise shows on television, but don't do the exercises. Practice believing that the benefit lies in imagining yourself doing the exercises. Don't power walk. Saunter slowly in the sun, eating chocolate, and carry a blanket so you can take a nap.
― SARK

Is it Atypical Depression?

Most people lose their appetites when they get depressed. Not so with Atypical Depression. Here, the symptoms are:

• Feelings of sadness, emptiness or feeling tearful
  
• Loss of interest or pleasure in normal activities
  
• Increased appetite
  
• Unintentional weight gain
  
• Increased desire to sleep
  
• Heavy, leaden feeling in the arms and legs
  
• Sensitivity to rejection or criticism that interferes with your social life or job
  
• Fear of rejection that leads to avoiding relationships
  
• Having depression that temporarily lifts with good news or positive events but returns later

I think that many people who use food to soothe their emotions may have Atypical Depression. This is good news in a way. When you know what's going on, the path toward healing becomes clearer and easier to follow.

There are probably many causes for Atypical Depression, from brain chemistry to complicated grief to being deprived of a certain kind of soothing or bonding in childhood.

Changing your chemistry may involve changing your diet, trying medication or natural anti-depressants, and structuring your life so that you build in positive, mood-lifting situations.

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Since Atypical Depression often lifts with positive events, it may be useful to seek therapy with someone who understands and practices some form of positive psychology - someone who will celebrate your strengths and achievements with you, as well as understand and accept the times you feel stuck or sad or irritable.

The Zen Path Through Depression By Martin, Philip (Google Affiliate Ad)

Finding a group of people who share an interest - hiking, cooking, knitting, etc., and who are easy-going, non-judgmental and fun is a great way to boost your mood. If you feel shy at first, try asking a friend to go with you the first few times, to help ease you in and break the ice.

For medication and dietary advice, it's best to talk with your doctor or a nutritionist, always keeping a close eye on your physical and emotional responses to medication or dietary changes. Your body knows and will tell you what's right for you when you listen closely.