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I'm really struggling with the voice of self-criticism. Every mistake I make lately is being magnified to something terminal, and I dont know how to turn off this voice.
Help?
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Comments
Well you could always use
Well you could always use arrogance to counter it, but I doubt that would be a wise idea.
You could have someone console you, or try to rationalize with your self critisim.
I'd say don't take it serious, but apparenlty you tried and it isn't working. How about talking with your family about it?
The self critic is the hardest type of troll but still a troll.
It's so hard to get past that little voice in your head but you've done it before and I know you can again. You just need to remember that you're a strong woman, that so many people find smart, friendly, caring, open and brave. You're worth a lot more than that voice can ever diminish Dorothy.
*Great Big Huge Long Angel HUGS*
Bailey.
A Proud Supporter of Team Dorothy:)
Bailey Summers
*hug*
Bailey's right in that self-doubt is a troll. I find trying to focus on the good stuff you've achieved recently helps and always remember things are probably not as bad as you think they are.
"Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it."
Well...
Well... you could just take it out back and bury it. (Kidding)
Seriously, it's a tough one. For me, it was always the question, 'is that the best you can do?' I finally got to a point where I was able to answer back, 'it's the best I can do for now.' It's a legitimate answer and it is always true.
Maybe later it can be better.
But for now, just get off my case.
Gentle hugs,
Janet
Mistress of the Guild of Evil [Strawberry] Blonde Proofreaders
To be or not to be... ask Schrodinger's cat.
Self critisism.
Self critisism is something that affects all of us who feel we have done something shameful or done something we should somehow 'answer for'.
We all have to deal with it in a way we find most effective. Get angry with yourself, spit in its face, seek therapy; nearly every one of us who has hang-ups about what we are, or what we are not, or what we want to be; has to deal with self critisism.
The other day I was chatting to Joanne Barbarella about my guilt about what happened to me as a child. This is what I wrote to her.
This is only an extract of a longer article but it explains how I deal with any doubts or self criticisms that regularly haunt me. It's a constantly recurring issue for us.
.........
Despite assurances today, by my friends, that 'You were the innocent one'I , you were not to blame. You were only telve, do not blame yourself.
It doesn't work like that, I get repeated flashbacks of self disgust and lower than low self esteem, and this causes bouts of depression. I blamed myself as a child and kept asking why I was like what I was. I rarely ever had to ask why I was abused, it was forcibly explained to me in the most brutal terms imaginable every time I tried to show some feeble resistance.
At twelve I KNEW I was a sicko, a pervert, a loony and most of all A COWARD!
If you don't like it, why do you do it and if it gets to you that much why don't you kill yourself? You'd do the world a favour you sicko little bastard
Those were the sorts of remarks and accusations I suffered day after day and of course it reinforced that image in my head because I must be a coward because I hadn't killed myself.
I blamed myself for being transgendered, transexual (Though at that time I had little or no idea what it meant except that these 'girl thoughtsd' kept entering my head and nobody put them there. The only conclusion I could draw was that it was me. Therefore I must be a sicko, a pervert, a queer, a waste of space that shouldn't exist. QED!
Then to load the dice there was also that other inexplicable factor, the bondage. I was kept in a separate room at the borstal because the 'doctors' had realised I was 'something inbetween'. However,the concession only made it worse. No witnesses to my abuse and no lock on my door, least ways not on my side. There was a key lock but I certainly didn't have a key!!! I was just a piece of meat set aside for just about any of the warden's or visitor's gratification.
The other boys resented me having the (waite for this) 'luxury' of my own room and consequently bullied me whenever we were together which was all the time except lights-out, and therby lies another issue. Every possible component of my existance was somehow used to reinforce my self loathing and believe me, they (the wardens) were very clever.
But worst of all was the realisation that I was a coward, the benchmark of low-life that all the other boys (inmates) used to measure their one status, their own conditions. I was the datum mark for shit!
Today, during those times when my 'grey wolves' are chasing me, those are the mental images that haunt me. I find that being disgraceful is a sort of therapy, a 'Fuck you, you bastards. Look at me, I'm still here, I'm still standing, I'm still dancing!' It seems to be working because the grey wolves chase me less often.
I don't drink, I don't smoke and I cycle hundreds of miles per week because I want to enjoy these last few years of real life that are owed to me. It's the only 'payback' left to me. All my abusers are dead I think. If not then they'll be in their nineties.
.................
Growing old disgracefully is my way of getting my monkey off me back.
Ww all suffer from these doubts, these self criticisisms. We all ahve to find our own ways of addressing them and it can take years.
Good luck on your journey, it's not an easy one but take strength from any support you receive from this site.
Love and hugs (Very tight hugs.)
OXOXOX
Beverly.