About Reverence...

 

A Million Other Amazing Things...

 

Suffice It to Say…

 

Many of us have heard this expression. It usually means we could say a lot more about a situation or a person, but we either won’t or can’t.

Therefore, suffice it to say…

As I have learned more about Narcissistic abuse and continue to make my way through my own recovery, I see how we could all benefit from this expression, especially those of us who are recovering from toxic dynamics, be they family, romantic, professional, or any other kind of dysfunctional and harmful interaction.

And here is where the Twelve Step principle of JADE comes into play as an emergency “go-to” for me.

JADE: an acronym, which stands for Justify, Argue, Defend and Explain.

It’s often employed as a recovery tool, as many of us, addicted to and entangled in our “drug of choice,” need a friendly reminder of our personal boundaries, of what we are and are not responsible for. Many of us have believed the lie we “owe” someone an explanation whenever we say one tiny little word: “no.” That’s a cornerstone of abuse: the refusal to accept anyone’s no on any subject matter or decision. If someone, who is acting in an abusive way, does not accept a person’s no, that usually indicates there’s a desire to manipulate and control. In the abuser’s mind, only a “yes” is acceptable, no matter how violating to the person’s well-being, dignity and safety it may be.

JADE helps reminds those of us caught in anything that dishonors our right to autonomy and respect that yes, we have a right to our no, without any further explanation of that no.

Justify:

When we feel pressured to justify ourselves and our actions, there’s an emphasis on proving ourselves worthy. The goal of the abusive person here? To make you and I feel wrong and to doubt ourselves.

And the main word we can often feel led to use, as we are tempted to justify ourselves, is “Because…”

“Because I’m busy…”

“Because I’m tired…”

We may believe that if we, indeed, prove ourselves to the demanding person, they will, therefore, be satisfied with our response, respect us and leave us alone.

Nope.

It, more than likely, will be more like this. They come at us even harder, becoming more violating, more abusive, employing more harmful strategies to squeeze that “yes” response out of us.

Suffice it to say…

Here’s where our “less is more” strategy meets us, if we’re willing to take the meeting. Say nothing. Do not offer any “because” reason. If the awkward silence (and yes, it will feel awkward) is too deafening for us, we can respond with the following…

“I am not able to do that.”

If we feel like being generous, we could even attach an “I’m sorry, but I am not able to do that.” And leave it at that.

Suffice it to say.

No further expounding is necessary. If we need to, we can walk away. However, according to our abuser, this discussion will not be over yet.

Yes, friendly warning: if you and I haven’t personally experienced it already, our abusive person will probably not accept any of our answer, shy of the desired “yes.” In fact, things may be ratcheted up to the next tactic.

Argue:

And here is often where arguing comes in, on the part of the abusive person. Again, in this situation, there can exist the need to prove ourselves in the heat of an argument. And that’s by design.

Yes, arguments happen in life. However, there is a difference when we are arguing with an abusive person, versus a non-abusive person. A non- abusive person may come from a perspective of trying to understand a situation or settle a disagreement. 

But the abusive person is not interested in that approach. When we argue with that individual, often, that toxic person’s modus operandi is to engage in dysfunction, simply to keep the negative exchange going, whether that’s the individual fight or the harmful relationship, itself.

Still, when we’re heated, it’s difficult to keep an objective perspective. We feel we need to make the point, asserting, “I am not this; I am this.”

But again, the abusive person is not interested in hearing, in understanding, in working a situation out. Instead, they are focused on “the win.” And sometimes, the abusive person gets a high from the flying sparks. They can even enjoy the process of wearing you and I down. They want us to submit. Period.

Suffice it to say, then, arguing with a person like this is pointless.

It’s not worth expending the energy. Disengage, as much as possible. Don’t get into it. It’s harmful. If the abuser is only focused on the dominating “win,” continuing with the dynamic only gives us various degrees of losing.

And we’re more valuable than that.

Defend:

Defend can be our knee-jerk response when things become more serious, dangerous or violent. Now, something feels at stake.

When we are in a toxic interaction with an abusive person, we can feel like our very lives are threatened. If that is the case, we need to get help and get out.

The National Domestic Violence Hotline:

1-800-799-7233

https://www.thehotline.org/

In terms of a less violent context, the abusive tactic of placing us in a position of defense still is serious and can cause us harm. Here, we experience the verbal, the emotional, the mental, the spiritual and the financial aspects of abuse, all of which are detrimental to our personhood.

We can respond, either outright or unconsciously, with the pleading statement, “Stop attacking me!”

And, adding further injury, the abuser can enjoy that reality, because we’re off kilter. They can assume they have the advantage over us.

Learned helplessness can often result. We feel powerless. And, because we feel powerless, we can often give our power away even more.

But JADE’s principle of never defending yourself, meaning, never pouring excessive, tiring energy into a dysfunctional dynamic, hinges on this premise. The abuser is only interested in attacking and having us in the struggling, one-down position.

And, just like “Justify,” just like “Argue,” to keep engaging in that is, at best, pointless for us and, at worst, harmful. It’s a rigged game, with it already decided, by the abusive person, that you and I will be the loser. Don’t play it.

If you feel you need to defend yourself, that’s an unhealthy relationship and/or interaction.

Detach. Walk away.

Explain:

I can prove myself to you; here’s my evidence.

And here’s the hoop-jumping, the auditioning, the desperate plea, “BELIEVE Me!”

I personally feel that this element of JADE is the most harmful to us: the pressure we may feel to “explain.”

When we refuse to justify, argue or defend ourselves against a coercive individual, indeed, that last resort may be to pressure us into explaining ourselves. It can even go so far as to demand we explain our very existence.

It’s demoralizing, dehumanizing. It’s abusive.

And it shines a spotlight on a core trait of an abusive person: his/her sense of entitlement.

After all, what could better drive the intense demand of such an individual?

It can be argued that’s the reason for JADE in the first place.

For, concerning the entitled person’s perspective, he/she believes they is “owed” something by us. And that can be anything under the sun, only subject to the abuser’s whims.

That abuser may feel we owe them complete agreement, acquiescence, control and decision making for our lives. We may feel we need to have their “permission” to exist. It is damaging… and often, subtle. It can creep up on us slowly, as, bit by bit, we give our power away, all in the hopes we will be loved and/or we will no longer be abused.

“Explaining ourselves,” therefore, places an unachievable onus solely on us. We can believe the lie that, anything short of a “good enough explanation” for ourselves rightfully leads to our punishment. We can absorb how our “imperfect” explanation is our fault, bringing any punishment upon ourselves.

What’s wrong with just explaining a situation?

It has everything to do with context.

Quick questions you and I need to ask ourselves:

Do I feel like I’m forced to explain myself?

If it were solely up to me, would I choose to explain this situation?

What are those answers?

Anything violating our basic free will and dignity is abusive.

If the context of an explanation involved a non-abusive party, that’s one thing. There is no agenda to dominate, subjugate or control a human being. If we choose not to give a full accounting to that person, the other party would accept that choice.

But, again, with an abuser, there is no “enough” involved. We could not justify enough, argue enough, defend ourselves enough, and, of course, explain ourselves enough. The abusive person is never satisfied with anything we give them.

We can point to immaturity, Narcissism, insecurity and even a more sinister need for power over us. It still doesn’t change the fact that no amount of our will, desire and energy expenditure will satisfy them.

And, just as importantly, it’s not our job to do that kind of hoop-jumping. None of it will get the person to love us or treat us better.

So, what are we left with?

Scripture, again, pops up for me, even with is “secular” JADE principle.

 “Simply let your 'Yes' be 'Yes,' and your 'No,' 'No'; anything beyond this comes from the evil one.”

Matthew 5:37

That’s what it is all about. In the realm of dignity, healthy treatment and basic human respect, how does someone view our expression on a matter?

Do they accept it? Do they reject it? Do they try to forcibly change it? Do they abuse us over it?

Are we respected?

JADE, perhaps, can remind us we must be exactly that.

Suffice it to say.

Copyright © 2022 by Sheryle Cruse

 

 

The Hiss of Nice

 

It can be oh, so quiet. Stealth. Unassuming. It winds it way around to you. You barely hear the tail rattle, or the “S-S-S-S-S-S” emanate from its forked tongue.

And why would you?

There appears to be nothing to it. You give “nice” people the benefit of the doubt.

I once confronted someone about a reoccurring issue. I mentioned how a deadline kept getting missed.

This person normally was quite jovial, pleasant, charming. Therefore, their response to me was startling. Instead of acknowledging there was an issue, taking responsibility for it, and then following through with changed action, they sharply spat back…

“I think I’ve been very nice about this.”

And still, following that pointed remark, there continued to be inconsistencies, for which they avoided ownership of their failings.

It was then and there I received a gigantic lesson in “nice.”

Nice isn’t always so nice.

Often, at best, “nice” is passive-aggressive… and weaponized.

“I think I’ve been very nice about this” is the nice response.

Nice is all about pointing out just how wonderful it is.

Look at me.

But “Kind” says nothing about how kind they are. Kind just is.

It has nothing to prove. It has no one to please. It is largesse. It is freely given love, grace, acceptance, forgiveness, without keeping score.

Yes, concerning “I think I’ve been very nice about this,” there, indeed, was a keeping score element attached to it.

From my vantage point, it felt like this person was awaiting my congratulations on just how nice they were to me, this mere mortal. Forget about staying on topic. I felt like it was my job to tell this person how fantastic they were… for failing in their responsibilities.

Nice has a superiority to it, a judgment.

“I think I’ve been very nice about this.”

Translation, perhaps? “I am a better person than you. Look at how I’m tolerating your behavior, daring to address what you think is a problem. You should be ashamed.”

Now, to be fair, I cannot say, for sure, that’s exactly what this person meant. But that’s how it felt to me, on a gut level, in the moment.

And, again, you stack “Nice” up against “Kind,” and you see a dramatic difference.

Kind is about decency, for decency’s sake, not getting accolades for doing one’s job.

Kind minds its own business, does its own work. It’s not interested in being repeatedly told how wonderful a human being they are for doing their job.

If talk is cheap, then Kindness is priceless.

Nice has strings. Agenda.

“I think I’ve been very nice about this.”

Did you catch it? It’s quite subtle, but it’s there. There is an expectation of getting something from us. It’s implied that because “they” scratched our backs, we’ll be obligated to do the same concerning them.

Nice is agenda-laden: control, power, sympathy, “perks.”

Nice hisses with being owed something. Nice places us in a debtor’s prison. We can, all too easily, feel trapped, like we have no choice but to respond according to specification.

But “Kind” is not transactional.

Kind gives because the spirit and the heart are willingly engaged in doing so. And there’s the key word: willingly. No obligation, no strings, no expectation. Kind is not interested in making a purchase. Kind, literally, is charity. There’s no pay off expected. There’s nothing to earn. It’s about freely receiving.

Nice is concerned with appearances.

Perhaps you know a person who is always involved in the good causes. They’re constantly volunteering at their church, their kids’ school. They regularly attend fundraisers and walkathons. And they have the photos, plaques and adulation to prove it.

A segment of toxic individuals out there is collectively known as “Communal Narcissists.” It’s probably a safe bet that many “nice people” are, indeed, these kinds of Narcissists. They are the do-gooders, not for doing good’s sake, but for how other people view and acclaim them.

There’s nothing wrong with worthy causes and volunteering. The key is the motive for doing it. Is it to help others? Or is it for a photo op or the esteem others lavish upon this person?

 “I think I’ve been very nice about this.”

It is about image. The “nice” person my be overrun with the internal question, “How does this make me look?”

But, again, Kind is different; it gets messy and doesn’t care what it looks like.

Whereas a “nice” response is looking for every camera, every bit of attention and publicity, the Kind response is trying not to garner unnecessary attention. The Kind person recognizes that would be a distraction to the cause and the work they’re trying to do. There’s an element of anonymity involved. The phrase, “Never let your right hand know what your left hand is doing” captures that spirit beautifully.

Kind is too busy to worry about the appearance. Doing the worthwhile thing is what matters most to them.

Nice is a double standard.

There is a hypocrisy within this state of being. In a certain toxic “nice” person, there exists both the preferential treatment of some people over others, those deemed “more valuable,” and the unfair expectation the nice hiss demand of us. Not just expects. Demands.

Returning to the person who uttered, “I think I’ve been very nice about this,” I experienced both that preferential treatment and the spirit of demand from them, determining I should defer constantly, no matter what the situation was.

I was treated in an abusive, dismissive way by this individual.

Yet, I repeatedly witnessed their capability to treat someone else in a radically different manner. It wasn’t about unique personalities or someone having a bad day. Rather, it was the intentional assessment of how I was disposable, whereas another specific person was someone assigned the value of opportunity and gain. Hence, the different treatment.

To the outside world, I encountered them, via fake cordial pleasantries. But, behind closed doors? I got the real deal: disrespect and abuse.

But Kind is consistent.

It responds with universal respect to all. That doesn’t mean the kind person is perfect. It simply means that their determination, from the start, is to view life and humanity as precious. And then, that person acts accordingly.

There’s no preferential treatment, no sidling up to a person for opportunistic gain. There’s no “angel in public, devil at home” component to their natures. What we see and experience of them is truly what we get.

They don’t hiss with “nice” because “kind” speaks with dignity, humility and equality.

I once heard how the great boxer,  Muhammad Ali made it an intentional point, at any of the high-publicity events he attended, to purposely go out of his way, to go to the back kitchens and to the “lesser rooms,” to meet the “common people,” over the celebrities.

He preferred spending time with these people. Why? Because they were real; they were kind. He didn’t need to worry about Narcissistic, “yes men” hisses emanating from them.

Kind doesn’t hiss. It doesn’t need to.

So, it’s in our best interest to discern what we hear and experience of a person. If we feel “nice” is coming at us, what’s behind it? We’ll know if something is off. The “nice hiss” trips our gut check. We can detect it. Just like we can detect genuine kindness.

The homework then? Start detecting.

Do we hear that hiss?

Copyright © 2022 by Sheryle Cruse

Job Description

 

Job descriptions are a much-needed necessity in this world, beyond areas of employment. Indeed, for those of us who especially struggle with healthy boundaries and codependency, knowing what the job description is within relationships, what we are and are not responsible for, can be sanity and sometimes, literal lifesavers.

Each of us needs to learn how to navigate the unrealistic expectations that constantly fly at us. And unfortunately, most us are improperly taught unhealthy and dangerous job descriptions. We are groomed to believe we must rescue, be there, available, constantly forgiving and allowing, no matter what toxic person or circumstance arrives in our lives. Many of us are taught to “just take it.”

Our health, our relationships, our families are, therefore, at risk. The stakes are high.

So, let’s look at some of the harmful, mistaken thoughts that we wrongly absorb and try to apply in our lives.

Be liked.

Right out the gate, we believe an impossible doozy. Oh, just be liked. By everyone. All the time. Without fail. What could possibly go wrong with this job description?

This is deadly peer pressure, even though, most of the time, it’s self-generated. We agree to the all-encompassing terms.

“Yes, I’ll be liked, even if it’s not good for me, even if it’s unsafe. Because, in the end, being liked by this person, by being pleasing in this situation, will be worth all of the trouble.”

Only, it doesn’t quite work out that way. For, in this gigantic, unhealthy and unsafe job description, we find more subtle, and just as dangerous, other descriptions. “Be Liked,” is the governing mandate to all other dysfunction.

Case in point?

 Fix or Save People.

Ay-Yi-Yi.

This unhealthy part of the wrong job description we internalize has us repeatedly coming back and staying in harmful situations with harmful people. Addiction and abuse are rife with these dynamics. We supply, protect and enable someone, sacrificing ourselves, all because we love them and genuinely believe our “help” is helping them.

It is not.

Yet, we believe it is helping because, somehow, we need to believe it is helping. If we fail to adopt a Savior role, we believe our very identity can be at risk. And, for some of us, that is unacceptable, even life-threatening.

Do it all.

Likewise, we can also adopt another oppressive mandate in a harmful job description: we must do absolutely everything. We must be Superman or Superwoman. No excuses.

It doesn’t matter if we work full-time, are raising a family, are caregiving, we must do way more than is asked of us. After all, we, again, want to be liked.

So, somehow, we rationalize, we will find a way to get everything done.

Please everyone.

We believe fulfilling the toxic job descriptions, including doing everything, will successfully accomplish being perfectly pleasing. Again, we’re back to “be liked.” We’re back to our Savior role and function.

What do we fear if we’re not liked, if we’re not being pleasing?

Rejection? Loss? Failure?

For some of us, that is too high of a price to pay. We envision the worst-case scenario, so much so, we dare not even ask ourselves the hard questions, let alone, answer them.

We just cannot go there.

Hold it together.

And that, therefore, ushers in yet another harmful principle in our unhealthy job description. We think can hold it all together somehow. Spinning plates? Sure. Why not add a couple more?

We can easily believe we are the only ones to solve all problems, tasks and issues. No need to delegate; I got it. No need to ask for help; I got it. No need to say no; I got it.

Only, we don’t have it. We have a mess. We have a breakdown coming our way.

Much like the self-imposed pressure to “do it all,” we, likewise, expect that we will prevent, sustain, protect and help a circumstance perfectly, without any fallout or untimely event throwing a wrench into everything. Perfectionism is a hard taskmaster; it’s unreasonable and irrational. And impossible.

And unhealthy.

For perfectionism, in its supposedly “noble” pursuit, inevitably, has us obsessing on image over truth, no matter what the situation may be. We may not be aware that we are doing this; we may have no intention of doing that. But impact has the final say.

For, in our striving to “hold it all together,” we, consciously or unconsciously, give sole importance to how something appears. If things “look” healthy, pretty, organized, happy or “right,” we can tend to believe we are, in fact, doing our job effectively.

But take a closer look beyond that beautiful smiling face, that supposedly fit physique, that Norman Rockwell-looking family, that well-ordered life, and what really is going on there? Addictions? Abuse? Depression? Toxic relationships? Criminal activity?

What if we worked on healing the mess, not just making it aesthetically pleasing?

So, What IS My Job?

Each of us does have a job. It’s not about avoiding all responsibility. Rather, it’s about taking appropriate, realistic responsibility for ourselves.

Such a small thing? Far from it.

The antidote to being liked? Love people.

This seems like a no-brainer. And how many of us, doing the dysfunctional job description behaviors, thoroughly believe we are doing it “out of love?” But love looks different than codependence, than enabling an unhealthy choice. Loving people is far different than being liked. Sometimes, they are diametrically opposing to one another.

Loving people sometimes means not helping.

We can, without knowing or intending, cause someone’s death, because of our supposed love for them. Think drug addict who overdoses because we supply them with the money and the substances to do so.

Loving people sometimes means saying no.

This is the ultimate test to us people pleasers, isn’t it? We fear rejection, scorn, not being viewed as kind or valuable. We risk someone’s unflattering opinion of us.

Loving people sometimes means no longer being in relationship with them.

There are times when we need to let others go. Dissolve and sever the relationship. It’s too detrimental to stay connected. It means imminent destruction. We need to accept that this death must occur.

And then, we need to grieve that loss.

The antidote to fixing or saving people? Be authentic.

We cannot save or fix anyone. Yes, we can “help.” But we need to scrutinize what is help… and what is not. The root of ascertaining that involves authenticity. We must be real and honest with what is happening and how we are contributing to that situation. Perhaps, our “help” isn’t help at all. Perhaps it is harm. Perhaps, because we fear facing the truth ourselves, we opt to be someone else’s solution. Doing that is selfish, counterproductive and unloving to ourselves.

We need to recognize that being authentic sometimes means that we will have limits. And we need to enforce that reality. Sometimes, we shouldn’t give people endless chances. Sometimes, constantly giving money to an addict of any kind, keeps everyone in disease, instead of recovery.

Sometimes, we need to recognize we choose to be inauthentic because we see it as easier. And, as unflattering as it sounds, we like the path of least resistance.

Being authentic isn’t that. But it is integrity. And when you and stay choose integrity over ease, we have the realistic peace we have been craving our entire lives.

Being authentic does not equal being pleasing. But it does equal being our honorable selves. It is scary, but it’s worth it.

The antidote to doing it all? Take the next step.

Once again, we get caught up in perfectionism. We fail, then, before we even start.

Somehow, we believe that, unless and until we can do something perfectly, it’s not worth starting. We magically think that all the stars must be aligned, this or that prerequisite must be in place, laying the perfect foundation for our plan.

And that perfect foundation, that perfect star alignment just never happens.

In the meantime, we up the stress ands pressure levels. With procrastination, comes heightened anxiety.

“Faith is taking the first step even when you can't see the whole staircase.”
Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

Dr. King was on the money here. Life does not require all certainty and all answers be made available for us to take action.

Life is about doing the next thing. What IS that next thing?

Solving a world problem, completely and thoroughly? Or is it taking out the garbage? Brushing our teeth?

You may laugh at that. But really, life is about many small, ordinary, tedious tasks being accomplished on a daily, consistent basis.

How about we take things down a notch?  How about letting ourselves off the hook concerning perfection… concerning anything or anyone? There is no such thing. We do what we can; we have limitations.

We have the inherent right to live life without doing it perfectly.

Period.

The antidote to pleasing everyone? Speak my truth.

Authenticity and truth go hand in hand. It’s impossible, unhealthy and perfectionistic to please everyone. We will fail. Therefore, choosing to be truthful about ourselves can free us from pressure, whether it be self-imposed or implemented from others. We don’t need to be nasty or rude about voicing our authentic truth, only brave. It’s hard to go against the grain. Popularity contests are still around, long after high school has ended. Peer pressure. Conformity.

Yet, when we succumb to trying to reach those states of being, we seem to only feel constrained, trapped, like frauds.

We need a newer measuring stick, being our truthful selves. That remains when the temporary trend, situation, relationship dynamic, inevitably, changes or ends. The truth of who we are, should we choose to embrace it, remains.

The Antidote To Holding it together? Breathe.

Sometimes, we need to make things as simple as possible.

When you and I hit the wall, the realm of our finite beings, it is, therefore, helpful to remember to breathe. If we can do nothing else, while stuck in any moment, we can do that.

We hear so much, these days, about mindfulness, about being present and in the moment. What each of these things have in common for us, whether or not we recognize it as such, is breathing. It’s automatic. Most of the time, we don’t think about it.

But take breath away, literally, and suddenly, we are full conscious of it.

This is probably at the very center of our human job description: just breathe. Do nothing else right now.

Yes, I know, there’s so much going on.

Just breathe.

Yes, I know (insert any other reason or excuse)…

Just breathe.

We’ve all bought the lie of what our job description should be. We’ve all turned ourselves inside out; we have jumped through flames and hoops, trying to be “enough.”

We are that already. Our job description should reflect that.

Truth. Enough. Realistic truth. Not the lie any longer.

Copyright © 2022 by Sheryle Cruse

 

Let Them Keep...

 

Ruin Your Own Damn Day!

 

“Don't let others ruin your day. Ruin your own damn day!”

I came across this humorous statement recently and it got me thinking.

Self-sabotage is one of those pesky, insidious realities many of us face. We can convince ourselves we’re so together. We have a great relationship, career, family, home, and financial portrait. We have the bases covered. We’re good. We know who we are and what we want in life.

Humpty Dumpty, getting ready to have a great big fall, in three, two…

Most of us are really not aware we self-sabotage until after the fact. It’s usually after a marriage crumbles, a job is lost, we lose a house, a car or anything that represents stability, financial or otherwise. We are somehow, someway devastated. And probably, what’s at that devastating center is the realization that we had a hand in bringing it on all by ourselves. We broke our own hearts.

The Why of Ruining Our Own Damn Day: Reason 1:

“This is perfect.”

No better starting point than completely unrealistic expectations, right?

Yes, in life, you and I fixate on something or someone… and christen them as “perfect.” For all time. In all circumstances. Without fail. We give the something or the someone a job they were never meant to possess: the key to perfecting our own imperfection.

The problematic issue, in the first place, is perfection itself. There is no such thing, let alone, assigned to anything external. So, if we place faith in its existence, we are already setting ourselves up for assured failure. We will ruin our own damn day, via this self-sabotage method.

The Why of Ruining Our Own Damn Day: Reason 2:

“This is so good (so I’ll wreck it).”

If we believe in the perfection of our designated object of our affection, we, of course, attach a “good” label to it. This can be troublesome in a couple of ways.

First, what if the thing we call “good” is NOT?

What if it’s harmful? Dangerous? Not right for us?

But here we are, thoroughly decided it’s perfect, it’s good, and there’s no other, more complicated, more realistic explanation to it than that?

So, that’s a fun prelude to the future ruining of our day.

And regardless of the object of our desire’s actual status, there’s a second, more alarming aspect to our self-sabotage. We can view that certain something or someone as being perfect and good, so much so, that we, inherently, are unworthy of it. We are quite worthless, in fact. We don’t deserve it. Therefore, we have no other choice other than to ruin it for ourselves.

We ruin our own damn day once again.

The Why of Ruining Our Own Damn Day: Reason 3:

“Nothing else will ever come my way again.”

Cheery outlook, isn’t it?

Yes, while we’re all preoccupied with these impossible, unrealistic standards and expectations about the issues in our lives, we also add this bleak perspective to our self-sabotaging mindsets.

We panic. We apply end-all, be-all importance to our designated idol of fulfillment.  There are no other buses coming our way, taking us to our destinations. Better hop on this thing, then, for all its worth!

A big part of what fuels this self-sabotage tactic involves the oppressive, black or white, all or nothing way of thinking. If we entertain that line of assessing something, it usually won’t be too long before we cross into the “or else” nature of this faulty belief. Indeed, we can wrongly determine that absolutely nothing and no one else can come close to our own perfect and chosen “idol.” We stand in judgment of anything else coming close. We are judge, jury and executioner. We pulverize and kill.

We ruin our own damn day, yet again.

Yet, it’s still not a hopeless, despair-filled death sentence.

Yes, it looks grim, this human tendency to destroy ourselves and our lives. Yet, if we are aware of these propensities to do so, to ruin our own stuff, we can, hopefully, make another choice. We can choose. We can choose something different. We need to take responsibility for ourselves, including our decisions, conscious or unconscious, to self-sabotage.

Now that we are aware, what will we do? What will we do with our days?

Copyright © 2022 by Sheryle Cruse

Therapy

 

Screws Fall Out

 

In a scene from the 1980s popular culture classic, “The Breakfast Club,” the troubled kid character of John Bender, while in detention, makes the statement: “Screws fall out. The world is an imperfect place.”

Any perfectionist breaking out in hives at that statement?

Screws fall out. Indeed, for those of us perfectionists, a crest-fallen countenance seems to be the inevitable response to pesky reality.

So, why do we have such a screwy reaction to imperfection? Well, here are a few theories.

“I’m Scared.”

Hello, control issues.

It’s all about what makes us feel safe.

There’s nothing like fear to hijack everything in our lives, while demanding we stay perfectly safe. Perfectly safe. Meaning, being im-perfectly safe is not acceptable or allowed.

We apply it to our relationships and to our circumstances.

We long for a particular person to be our rescuer. We want someone to silence pain and rid us of the monster. We want someone to make it safe foe us to love and be loved, without us doing any personal work or individual heavy lifting of personal issues.

We, likewise, desire and expect that our environments, achievements, and our personal appearances will reflect back “all is well.” We are good enough. We are going to remain good enough and we will never be in jeopardy of chaos, change, instability, or danger.

The job, the home, the car, the kids, the public image all must preserve and protect our fragile egos. The sense of self may, indeed, shatter without that perfectly safe, perfectly kept, little world of ours.

Why?

Again, because we are scared.

The screws must not fall out in life. The world must not be an imperfect place.

“I Want To Be Right.”

When we’re not swamped with being terrified, we, perhaps, demand to be right.

We demand it of ourselves. We demand it from others.

Whereas safety may be a delicious appetizer for many of us, vindication for being made wrong may, in fact, be the yummy main course. It can promise us that revenge fantasies will favor our side of things. This is especially the case if we have come from abuse and bullying experiences.

In relationships, that may look like seeing our abuser or bully get his/her comeuppance.

Maybe we see their utter ruin unfolding before our eyes. Maybe they are on their knees and they grovel an “I’m sorry. You were right. I was wrong.”

In circumstances, we, perhaps, can dangerously skirt a sense of entitlement.

We may assert, “Well, I was horribly treated by this scenario. Therefore, I deserve to get my way now, be my own boss, have power over someone else.”

Too extreme and dark, you say? Incapable of seeing yourself that petty?

Well, to that, I offer a commonly trotted out phrase, “Hurt people hurt people.”

Yeah, I know.

But before your corneas get stuck to the top of your head from the violent eye roll here, it is completely realistic to recognize how people can often negatively act out from a place of personal disempowerment. A childhood bully often bullies other kids because he is tormented by his parents and/or siblings at home. An abuser often hits his/her spouse because that’s what he/she learned as acceptable family behavior as a child.

Violence, inequity, and mistreatment are all the painful norm in many of our lives.

Day in, day out, that is excruciating, until, perhaps, like the 1970s movie, “Network,” we reach a saturation point and declare at the top of our spirits and our personal mantras…

“I’m mad as Hell and I’m not going to take it anymore!”

No, no, no! Screws are most certainly NOT going to fall out any longer! The world and my life MUST be perfect!

I want REVENGE to MAKE it so!

“I Want Worth.”

Many of us who struggle with perfectionistic tendencies can do so because we view perfection as equal to worth/value. And, yes, some of us can tip over to an extreme perspective that, conversely, imperfection equals worthlessness.

Hello, self-esteem and core beliefs territory.

It often shows up, then, in our desperate attempts to gain our (already inherent, nothing can change that reality) self-worth through the external of other relationships with people. We can get sucked into the mindset that we are only as valuable as our associations with others. As long as we are someone else’s boyfriend, girlfriend, husband, wife, friend, business associate, club member, etcetera, then all is well. Screws are intact. Life is as it should be.

And this, likewise, can also extend to circumstances. If there is no upsetting change to the crafted world we have set up for ourselves, again, all is well. Life is good. If we continue to have that job, that house, that status, that image, that comfort zone, that good health, etcetera, then we can be lulled into the false sense of security that it will always be this way and we will always be and stay this safe, because, yes, we have, indeed, crafted it that way.

Oh, great! Now, suddenly we have taken on the role of Omnipotent Deity for ourselves! What could possibly go wrong with that?

So, screws had better not fall out, huh? The world had better not be an imperfect place, huh? God (us) demands that not happen! Wonderful, oh, so flexible AND realistic!

Acceptance: “Screws fall out.”

 

“…Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
courage to change the things I can,
and wisdom to know the difference.”

“The Serenity Prayer,” Karl Paul Reinhold Niebuhr, American theologian

Job loss.

The end of a relationship.

Death.

A cancer diagnosis.

Covid-19.

How’s that for some unwieldy screws popping out of place, all over the place?

Most of us, especially those of us in recovery programs, are familiar with The Serenity Prayer. It’s a prayer about responsibility and possessing realistic expectations from life, for our lives.

It’s an anti-perfection prayer.

And no matter what our religion or belief system, it would probably do us ALL some good to pray more that way.

“Really?” (You, my fellow Perfectionist, ask this question, don’t you? I can hear you getting uncomfortable at the thought of it just now).

And yes, the answer is yes. Yes, we probably should worry less about perfection… and concentrate more on the living progress, complete with mistakes, relapses, and messy change. Daily. Hourly. Minute by minute, second by second, even.

This is the screwy stuff of life. Relationships and circumstances are not predictable, certainly not perfect. We are not predictable or perfect. It can all change, often, without warning, without the comforting head’s up so many of us would like to have.

A pandemic occupying our lives currently makes that even more apparent.

Acceptance does not necessarily mean being giddy about something. We can accept a person, a circumstance, a personal quirk about ourselves, and we don’t need to be ecstatically happy or thrilled about that reality. We can, from an imperfect, and hopefully, loving, place, settle into a more peaceful, “it is what it is” kind of mentality.

And “It is what it is” will not feel perfect either.

It will be and feel what it will be and feel to us.

And that, even, will be subject to change.

LIFE is change.

Life is a bunch of screws that fall out of place. And, maybe, by doing so, create life events that fall INTO place for us.

Is it perfect?

No.

Is it valuable and tailor-made for you and me?

Yes.

Therefore, enjoy, or at least, accept the state of your screws, whatever they may be.

Copyright © 2022 by Sheryle Cruse