CYEAT: Chapter 9

I wrote a post a few years ago about how important it is to choose the right words for your self-talk. When I am telling myself "I feel sick" or "I feel nauseous" I am reinforcing the idea in my head that I am actually sick or nauseous, when really it's most likely anxiety. So it would be better to say "I don't feel well right now" (just because it doesn't have that word "sick" in it, which carries all the visuals and associations I have with the concept of sickness) or "I feel anxious."

That is basically what this chapter is about - the way the language we use affects our emotions, thoughts, behavior, and ability to handle situations well.

I have mixed feelings about this concept. For a while, I was uncomfortable with the idea of affirmations and positive thinking, because I couldn't help seeing it as self-brainwashing. But I was in such a bad place, I didn't much care. I still recited positive thoughts to myself constantly, obsessively, trying to get back to being a person who could also feel positive emotions on a regular basis. And they really helped me, and that was awesome, although still in the back of my mind I was worried about self-brainwashing, about turning myself into someone who was happier but somehow not authentically me.

Then something occurred to me. Two things, actually. One was the idea that I could just as easily say I was un-brainwashing myself, because I had already brainwashed myself throughout my life to think negatively. Which then led to the realization that it was useless to fear self-brainwashing, because we are all doing it all the time, every second of every day, and we have no control over the fact that it happens. It is just happening. We’re thinking our thoughts, and those thoughts are changing us. I’m still slightly uncomfortable with the idea of actively taking control of this process, making the conscious choice that I’m going to think a certain way so that I’ll feel a certain way. But I think that is just because of my external locus of control and the fact that I don’t want to make decisions in my life because I’m always worried I will make the wrong ones.

Which is also a useless fear, because I can't escape making decisions. Even if I think I am choosing not to decide, that's a decision. And I'm pretty sure my chronically deciding not to decide is having a more harmful effect on my life than anything else.

Back to the book - the author includes many examples of negative statements we might think ("I should be able to do this by now" or "I couldn't do that") and examples of how to counter these negative statements ("I'm getting better at this every day", "I can do anything that I put my mind to").

I can get on board with this. I do think it's best to pick apart your negative thoughts and try to make them as positive as possible.

My only issue is that I feel like this strategy belittles some people's problems, and the author doesn't say anything about this. For example, there is an example where the negative thought is "This cancer is killing me - I'm going to die" and the positive replacement (which was focusing not just on making it positive instead of negative, but also active instead of passive) is "I own this cancer, I'm going to fight this thing." Positive thinking does help in all situations and it's possible it could even help you get over cancer. But I don't like the idea of someone being really sick, dying even, and the people around them insisting it's because they are not thinking positively enough.

So I guess what I'm saying is I believe positive thinking is an enormous help in all situations, but it's not guaranteed to change reality. If you're thinking "I couldn't do that" about lifting a car, you can't just keep telling yourself you can do anything, you're strong enough to lift this car. I suppose in that sort of situation you can tell yourself other positive things, such as "I'm sure if I trained really hard physically, I would get much stronger, even if I was never strong enough to lift a car." Or "even though this cancer might kill me, I can still enjoy my life fully as long as I have it."

Another point the author makes is that we shouldn't be so quick to apply medical labels. For example, if you say you're depressed, it could be harder for you to get over that feeling than if you just said you were feeling sad at the moment. Calling our worries about vomiting a phobia could make it harder to get over it. Saying "I'm addicted to smoking" could make it harder to stop smoking than if you said "I smoke because I want to." A medical label gets us entrenched in the idea that it's huge and scary and more permanent, that it's a condition, it's the way we are, and either we can't change it or it would be extremely difficult to change it.

I'm still torn on this one. I can see the logic, and I think some people do use these sorts of labels too freely - such as saying they are depressed when they are really just having a bad day. I think that is something our society does in general, not just about illness/mental illness. Most of us tend to want to stand out, and we want all of our experiences to be big and important. So we might walk out of a movie theater saying "that was the worst movie I have ever seen in my entire life" when we know that's not true at all and we could think of 20 worse movies we have seen. Just because it sounds more fun and dramatic that way, better than just saying "that movie was not good."

But it sounds like the author is saying we should throw out all diagnoses, and I think that's an overreaction. Sometimes it feels really amazing to have a label for a problem you have had all your life, a problem that seems like this weird force acting on you that you can't understand until one day, you look around on the internet and find out it's called "emetophobia." And you read about it, and you say "this is me." I can still remember experiencing that moment (I was 11 years old), and in my memory it all seems magical, everything falling into place. Everything becoming understandable.

Yes, the downside to that might be that it reinforces it as a part of who you are. But honestly, before I found that word, it was already part of who I was. And I have seen other people with emetophobia leaving comments online along the lines of "Wow, I have had this problem for 40 years and now I finally know what it is, I am crying, I am so relieved, I always felt so weird and hid it from people" etc. Meaning they have lived most of their lives without that label, and it doesn't seem like it enabled them to get over the problem because they were downplaying it in their mind as just a quirk of theirs. Receiving that label can make you realize that it's an anxiety problem and that there are things you can do to get better.

So I pretty much don't agree with that particular part of the chapter. But I do think it's a good idea to refrain from labeling things inaccurately (referring to yourself as bipolar because of basic mood swings everyone has).

Basically, it all boils down to being careful with your language, analyzing it to determine if it is true, if it is too negative, what effect it could be having on you. I don't think there is a need to avoid saying you have a phobia at all costs. But if you are saying things on a regular basis that are having a negative effect on you (like "This phobia controls my whole life and I can't do anything about it") then it would be a really good idea to change that, because you will feel much happier and more in control of your life.