Peace and Quiet in Stressful Times (aka Mindfulness 101)

"We cannot prevent birds from flying over our heads, but we can keep them from making nests on top of our heads. Similarly, bad thoughts sometimes appear in our mind, but we can choose whether we allow them to live there, to create a nest for themselves, and to breed evil deeds." ~ Leo Tolstoy

I said in my first post that I try to remember to be quiet sometimes, and I'd expand on that later. It's been two weeks. I think this is "later" enough.

So there's this thing called mindfulness that anyone with mental illness will likely hear referenced until their doctor's blue in the face. I've heard it from my GP, a few counsellors, a depression program, magazines, app ads, ...

What is it?

It took a few people explaining it for me to feel like I was finally starting to understand, and I still need reminders every so often, but here's what I've got for you. It is:

• distancing yourself from your thoughts. Taking them less personally, and not letting them overwhelm you.
• understanding that thoughts enter your head as they like, and it's up to you to respond to them appropriately. Another way I've heard it is that thoughts happen to us. When I have a flashback, that wasn't my choice, but then how I respond is important. It's considered wise to listen to the thought, understand where it's coming from, and then evaluate it. There's likely something useful in there. Find what's useful, discard the rest.
• taking a break from craziness to check in with yourself. "How is my mood? How is my body? Is my head foggy? Do I need a snack?" Things like food and drink can greatly affect your mood, so checking in periodically to make sure your body is taken care of can relieve pressure in your mind.
• keeping in touch. Practising mindfulness becomes a habit, so that, when things happen, your first response doesn't have to be freaking out.

I'm not going to claim that I'm good at this, and, at first, I had a lot of difficulty seeing the value in it. Now, a few years in, I'm sometimes able to remember to use it.

Example:

I'm bussing to the other side of town. The side of town, in fact, where I'm more likely to run into my ex. Anxiety is constantly building up as I'm getting ready, leaving my place, getting on the bus, and walking around down there. I notice this anxiety (it's kind of hard not to notice my throat restricting so I can barely breathe) and force myself to physically stop moving. Sit down, if there's a seat conveniently close. This prevents lightheadedness and fears of fainting, allowing more of the brain to focus on brain thoughts.

Think:

Do I see him now? No.

Am I certain I will see him? No.

What happened last time I saw him? We ignored each other.

Is there a reason that wouldn't happen again? No.

Will I enjoy it? Of course not.

Will I survive the encounter? Most likely. (I hate making certainty guesses about the future. Too many unknowns. But, given the information I do have, this could be a yes. It just isn't because there is still room for unknown variables.)

So yes, there is discomfort here, but it's not life-threatening. Now I have a plan to handle the situation, in case it does arise (ignore him), and that plan does not involve unhealthy behaviour.

I successfully left my place to run an errand, wandering around leisurely and calmly until I'd found everything I was after and taken the time to look at other things that caught my eye.

Finally, as I was done my errand and getting ready to come home, I did the most important step of this whole process: the reward.

I pushed myself. I did something that I felt was important for good reasons. I then give myself positive reinforcement, helping it to become a positive experience in my memory, which helps make it easier next time.

Coffee tastes best when it's earned.