Tag: sad

Are you a ZOMBIE? 3 Ways to Know if you’re truly stuck and NUMBING-OUT

texting

As a kid I would see adults numb out. (I didn’t know it was that at the time.) They’d get obsessed with hobbies, drink too much, channel surf late into the night, veg-out with a bag of potato chips, flitter about with shopping, or keep their nose in a book. Smart phones hadn’t been invented but going numb abounded!

I sensed I wasn’t like them because I was always moving on to the next adventure. I was sort of powerless as a kid, but I wasn’t stuck. It wasn’t just their actions, it was their faces gave away that something had shut off.

I get it now.

I get that we grow to numb out because it’s a way to reduce anxiety. Anxiety doesn’t lessen with age. In fact, more disappointments have piled up and more is at stake after a few decades of life. Disappointment, pain, fear, and frustration all drive us to numb out. I can’t think of anyone who doesn’t do it in some variety.

The difference is that some people can block and judo chop numbness and start moving again, and others get stuck in a pattern they go back to it–like food, or stay stuck in it–like a bed. That makes you fat and sleepy. Undead. A Zombie.

 

I have to fight off a tendency to go numb and zombie out, too. Life is painful, I get it. But, I’ve realized it’s worth the fight. (It’s an actual life or death struggle.)

Blasting numbness takes skills.

But how can you tell if you’re numb or just in a slump?
Here are 3 Ways:

 

1. You just can’t “get to it” 

Whether it’s that you’re -super busy-, or that you feel the conditions are never quite right to get started, there is a special sort of “stuckness” that signals Numb territory. You meant to. You want to. You should. But, there’s lag and drag.

2. You’re distracted by design

You try to stay busy or occupied (whether you realize it or not). Maybe you check your emails a lot, or play apps or video games, surf the net for reading material or naked people, or scrapbook like mad. Maybe you text a lot, or you have to “get your run on” (frantic exercise), maybe you troll blogs, or do Facebook on your Smart Phone when you find a gap in your day. You want a break! It makes sense.

Or maybe, it’s more subtle. Maybe the kids have crazy schedules of activities you must attend to. Whatever it is, you have to admit that you’re trying to appease to your restlessness. You’re trying to stay moving but really you’re going nowhere. In the end, you only want more “soothing” or movement because you’re still in the same place.

3. You’re less connected

Have you really opened up to a friend lately, face-to-face? Can people get close to you or really know you? Have you avoided getting close to other people because they seem like a pain in the butt? This is because there is something painful about it. You want to avoid that stuff and you want to stay numbed out. People are a great source of anxiety for all kinds of reasons, but disconnection means you’ll stay numb. It’s time to be fearless.

What’s really so bad about going numb or staying numb?

Tons, but I’ll limit it to 3.

• You. Stay. Stuck. (Hardly anything is more frustrating. It’s like a jail. But, you made this jail. It’s time to get out.)

• You stop growing as a person. (Remember the cranky neighbor or the jerk boss? That is or will be you! Don’t be that guy. Remember, the mean librarian or pissed off gym teacher. Don’t let it come to that.)

• Deadness. Zombies look cool in the movies, but…hello…they. are. dead. (and they eat the brains of living people. gross. Wow. How true is that, anyway?)

If you are numb, you are deadened. You can’t feel the good stuff either, like love, acceptance, belonging, and joy. (This stinks because it’s hardly living when you’re numb to the good stuff!) You can’t fine tune numbness. It’s a categorical deadening.

I can’t stress this enough: Don’t be a Zombie.

In the next post, I’ll share best practices for judo chopping numbness in the neck…and getting on with your best life. (Click the content link in the right sidebar to get that post zipped right to you.) 

Now you’ll like this! Check out what a good judo chop can do.

(photo source)

Shame and wanting to poking out your own eye

There’s a feeling you can get, after you’ve done something horrible. It’s so bad, that you might consider poking your own eye out (if for nothing else than a viable distraction.)

My first job (besides babysitting) was as a hostess at Eat’n Park Family Restaurant. A woman about 10  years older transferred there. She had been a waitress for a long time (even a decorated one. Yes, Eat’n Park is special like that.) She also had the name “Lisa,” just like me. That’s about all the ingredients needed for good communication and lasting friendship, right? um. No.
Background:
Sometimes I’d goof off and crack jokes in passing with Lisa. No big deal. (If you know me, this is all highly typical behavior.)
WELL-
One day, like a stoke of non genius, it came into my head to wisecrack when I noticed Lisa had a blue pen scribble on her forearm. I noticed it was actually a very sloppily rendered mark of her own name. The “L” was super long on the bottom, and not in a cursive way. It was just odd. It struck me as humorous. I already knew she had a 4 year old daughter. Her little girl had probably been playing with her waitressing pen and wrote out her mom’s name all by herself. Or maybe Lisa had done it–for a joke, or because she was bored. So, feeling my comic Einstein vibe coming on me (which is inversely proportionate to my rational thought and good judgment), I said–rather flippantly, I might ad–“Hey, what’s that on your arm? Is that so you don’t forget your name?”

Sudden. Dead. Powerful stare.
Awkward pause. I could hear a spider near the salad bar blink.
Then I noticed she had a sort of sad “How could you, you freaking jerk?” look on her tired face. (I picked up on that because I’m really good at feeling people out!)
It was a tattoo.
A horrible one.
A mistake.
Perhaps a drunk boyfriend or trashed stepdad scrawled it there. Who knows. But whatever the story was, it was part of a painful past. A past she did not want thrown in her face by some stupid and insensitive quip from a dumb teenager.
My heart froze with panic. It’s the kind of panic where you start to smell yourself. A cold sweat mustache erupts on your lip usually, too
.
Would she stab me with a steak knife?
Plan to burn me “accidentally” with a scrod entrée platter? (Wicked hot, they are!)
I fumbled around, and got out, “um… hahah… I’m just kidding.” I was trying desperately to appear nonchalant. I considered whistling a tune to prove it.
Still, she just looked at me–steadily.
“I’m sorry,” I said, getting up the nerve. It felt like a blanket of shame washed over me. Self-loathing–all over the place.
She shook it off, and went back to work. From then on I tried to be extraordinary nice to her, in every way I could think of. I bused her tables, and got her refreshing beverages, and tried to be as pleasant, and positive as I could. She didn’t hold it against me, beyond a day or so.
Once, after a 10p.m.-5 a.m. shift when my dad failed to pick me up, she even drove me home in her weary beater of a car.
I still wonder about her.
It was poke-your-eye-out shame.
I’ll never forget it.

Have you ever had “inner death by shame”? (you can just answer yes or no, unless you want to be brave and tell your story)