the importance of telling on ourselves

Earlier today, I was caught in a trance.

Self-doubt, insecurity, fear, and an overall downward and inward spiral. I felt sad about my living situation, my job, the fact that the residual stuff from Breast Implant Illness impacts my mental clarity. I felt down about my overall life.

I felt like a failure. Like a shell of who I thought I’d be “by now.”

Am I even helping people? Is it worth it to continue putting myself out there?

“I’m imploding,” I wrote to my friend in a text message.

That was the old pattern, how I used to handle these feelings and thoughts. I’d feel myself harden and shut down, retreating from friends and family and even my dog. I’d stop writing, stop sharing. I’d sleep a lot and go totally internal.

I’m naturally an introvert, but there’s an admitted difference between introverting and imploding. Have you ever experienced it?

This type of trance / implosion would have previously resulted in a full-blown breakdown. Missing work. Ignoring all phone calls and messages. For days or weeks or beyond. As recent as a year and a half ago, I’d fall into a deep depression with suicidal ideations.

The bullying thoughts, when kept inside, would continue to spin in my mind. They’d become almost magnetic, attracting similar thoughts and stories, and reminding me of any past experiences which could act as evidence to the negative story line.

Today, I reached out to friends. One of them called me. I answered in a robotic, indifferent voice.

She spoke life into me.

She helped me sort between fact and fiction.

She helped me become aware of the trance I was in.

Awareness is where we get our power back.

It didn’t happen immediately. The story lines I got swept into today are deeply rooted, and can feel almost comfortable. Isn’t that odd? That misery can feel so comfortable?

It took about 20 minutes of my friends talking with me before I felt some of the sticky web releasing from me. I experienced the moment where my awareness returned. “Oh shit,” I said. “I’ve been caught in a trance!”

What I mean by a trance is when we get hijacked by fear or an old story line, or anything aside from what’s factually happening in the moment. Our lenses get foggy and hyper focused, and it temporarily seems as if this skewed reality is the real one and the only one.

My dear friend helped anchor me back into reality, back into alignment with God, with Love, with my heart. With capital T Truth.

I could not have done it myself.

I mean, eventually the trance would have left. Days or weeks later, I’d eventually come out of it… Wondering what sort of damage had been done while my awareness had been out of the office. But today… Today it only lasted a few hours.


Because I told on myself. I shared the fear I was experiencing. I let myself be seen even though I wanted to hide.

I let my support group help me carry the weight. I cracked the door open just enough where they could shine light back in.

I’m learning that the sooner I tell on myself, the better. If an old story gets activated around my boyfriend, for instance, I’ve learned to quickly say it aloud. If I’m unable to immediately detach from the story (sometimes I am and it’s glorious), I’ll say something to the effect of, “Wanna’ hear the funny story my mind is telling me about this situation?” And he’ll say yes. And then I’ll start saying it aloud, and normally we’ll both be laughing by the end of it.

What seems like the end of the world when hidden inside our minds can become child’s play when shared with another.

By sharing with my phone call friend today, and by doing my best to be receptive to the Truth she was speaking into me, I quickly snapped back into alignment. With inspiration, motivation, clarity, and even a bit of serenity.

She helped me realize that these stories normally pop up for me around my vocation when I’m on the verge of something great. When I’ve had big opportunities presented to me in the past, I’d often fall into a deep depression. If I took a big chance and put myself out in a big way, I’d hide from the world for a week or more afterward.

This is part of my process-or at least, a part of an OLD way of processing-and I’m now aware of it.

And so is my friend. On Monday, I’ll tell my therapist. Tonight, I’ll tell my boyfriend.

Having the awareness of this tendency makes me so excited, I could scream from a rooftop. But I overdid it on my hamstring in Choi Kwang Do and am enjoying the comfort of this chair.

Awareness is my first step to freedom.

These stories popping up ARE A GOOD SIGN. It means something is shifting, and I’m leaving my old comfort zone.

This is something to celebrate. To share with friends. And now, to share with you.

Nothing about my situation has changed. I’m still 32, unmarried, living in a tiny basement room that smells like dog, and I’m still experiencing occasional mental fogginess and itchy skin from the implants I had removed two years ago.

But guess what? I’m totally okay with all that. I recognize that it is my current reality and, rather than putting energy into fighting it, I’m choosing to put that energy into the next steps forward.

Will I get caught in a self-negating trance again? Probably. But guess what? I’ll snap out even sooner next time, and the times of serenity in between trances will increase.

Onward and upward, my friends.


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Some days, I paint. Other days, I write. And rap. And tell stories. And do comedy. And doodle. And [attempt to] bake. And, one week out of every month, I merge with my sofa and sob about mortality and things like the existence of air and how we can't live without it and how utterly claustrophobic that is to consider. I'm relatively particular. And this is a place for me to share ALL the quirks.

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