The comparisons

Last year when I was in a very down place I went to a life coach. Now I'm not the "go-to-counselor" type. My mom convinced me once in high school and it was a horrendous experience that I never wanted to try again. But last year I had worn thin my family's patience with my anxiety. I'd get 3 hours of sleep pacing around the house all through the work week and then take 2 naps on the weekends. My brain was like a pinball machine that would never turn off, and I needed help. When your 2 1/2-year-old tells you every morning "don't cry mommy. You go to work now" you know there's a problem.

And let me tell you the life coach made such a difference. I only had 4 sessions with her, but she helped me see things very differently, especially how to work with difficult people and conflict. She also gave me a few books. One was called "The Chemistry of Joy." I admit I didn't read the whole thing. I'm not much one for the self-help genre, and midway through it got very new-agey.  However, the beginning was eye-opening for me. The author talked about the different ways people react to anxiety and depression. Some people will become very angry and have a "the world is out to get me" attitude and be very restless and angry. Others are sluggish, passive, the "hide under the blanket, stop going to work and out of the house" kind. Then there are those who feel like they are never good enough, people will find out they are a big fake, and they see everyone else living the perfect life. That's me.

Once the anxiety begins my mind convinces me I'm the biggest sham on the planet. As an adult 99% of my anxiety revolves around work and doing things right and making sure people believe I'm competent and like working with me. Even as a kid I'd have anxiety over how I was perceived by people around me. For instance in 2nd grade I was terrified my parents would get divorced, which of course would tell the world that we weren't a happy family and it was all fake. I even told the Schwan's man to not talk to my mom because she and my dad were married. I'd have very real recurring nightmares. I remember a "Dad and kids" night where Dad took the 3 of us to Denny's. I was so worried that people would think my parents were divorced that I said loudly "Can we watch a movie all together with mom when we get home?" and other things to include my mom and dad in one sentence. My dad told me I didn't need to yell across the booth not understanding that I desperately wanted the old couple behind him to know my parents were happily married.. It took me a long time to find this divorce fear as humorous as the rest of my family. It was a real fear for a big chunk of my elementary school life.

The absolute worst part of my anxiety though is the comparing. I've always been bad at comparing myself to others. I wonder if it is part of being a fraternal twin. I've talked to other fraternal twins who constantly felt in competition with one another. People love to point out how different fraternal twins are from each other. So we compared ourselves against each other and then us against the outside world. Heck, in high school my sister and I would walk around the mall and say "does my butt look big like that girl? Is my haircut as cute as her?" Horrible, huh? I also come from a very competitive family. The saying in our house wasn't "Practice makes perfect." it was "Perfect practice makes perfect" meaning don't be the kid being lazy and doing a half-assed practice, get out there and do it at your A game every time. (I still don't get what exactly "half-assed" means, but it was said a lot in our house, especially about my chores...maybe one day I'll learn how to do chores full-assed. If you saw our laundry pile right now you would put it in the half-assed" category)

Most times I do know how much we have: health, jobs, time for vacation, love, family etc. Bring on the anxiety and I lose all perspective. In some ways as an adult I feel it is much easier to make comparisons. In high school there are only so many comparisons you can make: clothes, weight, grades, sports. Now it can be keeping up with the Joneses (houses, cars, money) or parenting (kids who never seem to misbehave, the genius 3-year-old, the little girls who look like they actually let their moms brush their hair), or the career people (climbing the ladder, master's degrees, awards), or the fitness/beauty people and don't get me started on all the hobbies people accomplish. Although I do love being busy and doing fun activities, part of the driving force for the "keep busy and experience everything you can" mindset is this inadequacy feeling.  Now that I realize making comparisons is actually a very common emotional reaction to anxiety, I'm trying to recognize it as a symptom, take time with Chris and Penny without forcing them into some mold of "perfect life", go into nature to quiet my mind, remember everything we've done...basically the cliche "count your blessings."

So why am I pouring my heart out now? I guess because I didn't think it would happen to this level again. Unlike last year I'm very happy with my job and my work, but it is a high stress time and it's taking a toll. I didn't really realize how bad I've been mulling in my "grass is greener on the other side" thoughts, until it seemed like the entire world tried to remind me that I am who I am and to stop comparing or worrying what others think. More likely there are a lot of other people dealing with the same issue and that's why I see it everywhere. Here are 2 sayings I saw on facebook this past week:

I want to put this on my refrigerator, dashboard, ceiling when I wake up...

Then on the blog aptly called Enjoying the Small Things by Kelle Hampton, I read this about motherhood:

Trying to keep afloat, pickin' and choosin' each day which balls we're going to attempt to keep up in the juggling act while a few fall at our feet, waiting for their turn [...]This is how life works though, and when you add it all together--perfect snuggly crafty days, mama dates and family dinners plus busy work days, babysitter nights and "Candyland is going to have to wait" afternoons, it can still equal Really Good Mom.
This fact is powerful when you catch yourself comparing your methods and outcomes with other mamas (it's a wash--don't do it). When you see the seems-like-she-does-everything pizzaz of another mom, know that she's enjoying a shining moment among many other kinds of moments, and be happy for her. And when you see a mom who might be losing her cool or maybe arranging her priorities differently than you would, assume that there are other days when things shift and she too enjoys that shining moment of everything-feels-just-right. Amen? Amen. Isn't it nice when we don't have the pressure of figuring out everyone else's life for them?

http://www.kellehampton.com/ (this is a great blog if you don't have it in your reader. You have to read her birth story of her second child that's in the "if you are new here" section. Have tissues nearby.

I also read this NY Times article "On Being Nothing" http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2012/09/09/on-being-nothing/?smid=fb-share This is less about comparisons as it is about wanting people to notice you and approve. Here were my favorite parts:

 As adults, our successes give us little pleasure unless sweetened by others’ admiration. If we dress up, there must be others to see us or our work seems wasted — no one wears a tuxedo at home. A marvelous gardener once told me (speaking for human nature) that he takes more delight in a single garden visitor’s compliment than in all the shrubs and flowers he has ever planted. What is this craving for another’s eye to rest upon us?
Upon reflection, a desire for recognition seems irrational. Since we live in our own minds, why should we care what thoughts are in the minds of others? Is this not like a Canadian fretting about the weather in Mexico? How to explain this need for notice is debatable. Are we so doubtful of our worth that others must attest to it? Conversely, are we so certain of our worth that others must bow down to it?
 There must be a Copernican revolution of the self. Instead of pointlessly cursing the sun to go around me, my chance of contentment is learning to orbit, being the world’s audience instead of demanding the world be mine. If the world is a stage, then everyone’s an extra, acting minor roles in simultaneous scenes in which no one has the lead. With so much happening, society is poorly made to satisfy pride, but well made to satisfy interest, if we will only let go of our vanity and join the swirl of activity.

And I better hit post on this now before I delete everything. Maybe 10 people in the world know this is behind the smile...and I'm publishing it for anyone in the world to stumble upon. I may need to find another life coach.