Surf the Urge

I just got off the phone with two of my dearest friends. Each call lasted nearly an hour and had the same theme. They were depressed, on edge, and one step away from hurling themselves out of their respective office windows. I became concerned and probed deeper, asking pointed questions about sleep disturbances and appetites. My clinical inquiry revealed the similarities of their predicaments. Both have their plates chock full: high-powered, demanding careers as psychologists and three children apiece. But the most obvious common factor was that both went out the night before and got loaded. And I mean stinking drunk.

I know the feeling. A few weeks ago I had a long day. My husband handed me a beer, but when I finished sucking it down, the stress wasn’t gone. So I had another. This might have been an inconsequential act for a two-hundred-pound lumberjack with a high tolerance for barrel-stewed grain alcohol. But for a ninety five-pound woman, this bore the omen, “you will pay for this in blood and tears.” Sure enough, the next day I found myself weepy, over-reactive, and wishing I could undo that last Heineken. Being hung over never makes the job of mothering any easier. In fact it makes it infinitely harder. I found myself asking when will I learn I can’t hold my liquor? When will I learn to ignore the impulse to have that extra drink or the second honkin’ slice of pie after a big meal, the one that will distend my stomach and cause me such discomfort that I feel like a snake who’s swallowed a toaster? When will I learn that beer and cake can’t make things better?

We’ve all done it. Spent, drunk, eaten, and said too much. For me, the undermining impulse is usually the extra cup of coffee that tastes so good going down, but leaves me nervous and edgy. Once in awhile a little excess is no big deal, but when we find ourselves getting locked into these patterns, it helps to step back and take a clearer look at what’s really going on. Recently, a group of psychologists discovered that by teaching mindfulness techniques to recovering substance abusers, they could lower relapse rates by teaching the skill of “surfing” the urge to use. Each time a craving arose, the participants were instructed to acknowledge the impulse and imagine riding it like a wave until it passed, watching it come out of the horizon, swell, crest, and then dissipate. Rather than acting on the urge, they were instructed to fully attend to it and be a neutral observer of their cravings. Further, participants were asked to be mindful of the full range of thoughts, feelings, and memories that accompanied their urges. Exposure without responding eventually extinguished the power of the craving. Simply stated: one can have an urge or impulse without necessarily reacting to it. And not acting can save us a lot of trouble in the long run.

I’m not advocating the return of prohibition. And I’m all for going crazy in a moderate sort of way. Mothers sometimes need that. But escaping negative feelings with actions that often carry even greater negative after shocks, like over eating, drinking more than we should, or spending excessively never really solve anything. Rather, they simply increase our psychological burden and limit our capacity to react to our lives with our full arsenal of resources. By surfing the urge, we prevent the mess before we make it.

It is Monday morning and I am sitting at my desk feeling somewhat overwhelmed. All the balls are still in the air but I am one move away from losing it. My weekend was positive but I was pushed to my capacity with my sister and brother-in-law visiting along with their four small children, Quinn’s christening and celebration at our home, the intense emotions that come with interacting with immediate and extended family and then of course, just the pragmatics of feeding, cleaning, and hosting that many individuals in a nyc apartment. Whew. I am very grateful for all the love extended toward our little baby. Happy it all went well. And yet I am very much in need of a break between all that and jumping full swing back into the Monday morning routine.

Thus, I was so pleasantly surpised to receive an email/post from Tricia in Australia! Simply hearing that she too struggles with overthinking things and that she too needs reprieve from her mind as she goes about various aspects of mothering is such as comfort to me. Miles apart and yet bonded through our similar experiences. I am comforted by the reminder that there is nothing actually wrong with me. These feelings of overwhelm at times are normal. I am deep breathing as I write this. I am recognizing that my pump is primed (as in stretched to the limit) so I will work extra hard to stop, deep breathe and focus before I say another word.

Thank you Tricia for reaching out. Your kindness and wisdom may have just turned my day around. Diane

I’m sitting in my sister’s beautiful home, listening to my kids and their cousins squeal with laughter as they play in the “bouncy bounce”. All morning they’ve been playing outside in the snow, only to come in to warm up with hot cocoa and marshmallows. The bouncing in the basement is a wonderful new way to expend energy especially since it’s not yet noon. We’re in a giant home in a winter wonderland. My kids are in bliss…

The drive here was only three hours by the clock but seemed hours longer. Despite taking motion sickness pills and waiting the obligatory hour between eating and driving, both of my older kids vomited repeatedly. Didn’t help that my husband took them to Chipotle for their last meal (duh). And their repeated “are we there yet?”, left me feeling sympathy for them and annoyance at my husband.

Now all is well…An excellent way to spend the last day of 2007! Hope you celebrate today too. xx Diane

I’m sitting in my sister’s beautiful home, listening to my kids and their cousins squeal with laughter as they play in the “bouncy bounce”.  All morning they’ve been playing outside in the snow, only to come in to warm up with hot cocoa and marshmellows.  The bouncing in the basement is a wonderful new way to expend energy especially since it’s not yet noon.  We’re in a giant home in a winter wonderland.  My kids are in bliss…

The drive here was only three hours by the clock but seemed hours longer.  Despite taking motion sickness pills and waiting the obligatory hour between eating and driving, both of my older kids vomited repeatedly.  Didn’t help that my husband took them to Chipotle for their last meal (duh).  And their repeated “are we there yet?”, left me feeling sympathy for them and annoyance at my husband.

Now all is well…An excellent way to spend the last day of 2007!  Hope you celebrate today too.  xx Diane

Yesterday’s Oprah featured guests who had tried to kill themselves but survived. Their purpose for appearing on the show was to help others who might be feeling as desperate and tell them that they should reach out and ask for help. However, one woman did say that after repeatedly sharing with her mother her desire to jump off a bridge, her mother drove her to one and said, “so jump”. This after telling her to “snap out of it”. One day she finally did snap and tried to jump off the bridge when a fast-acting police officer caught her arm and saved her life. Sounds like we should all reach out for help but as Irena, the accupuncturist, said, be sure to choose wisely when disclosing to family members and select someone with whom your gut says you are safe. Probably not the one who tells you to “just snap out of it”.

Luckily, even before viewing yesterday’s show, I’ve been feeling much better. Christmas was festive and fun, and yet I’m feeling some relief now that it is over. Despite my intentions, the presents and parties spiraled out of control this year. I’ve also put away a lot of the Christmas-related decorations which were both beautifying and cluttering my home. Other mood improvers–a fun evening with friends that involved a lot of laughing and high-end tequila; lots of happiness generated from my kiddies because of vacation, Christmas and the general joy associated with being kids and playing a lot. I’m almost finished reading “The 4 Hour Work Week” and am excited about putting those principles into action (don’t tell my boss). And last but not least, I’m finally getting some sleep–hallelujah!!

On Christmas night, we put Quinn in a pack’n play in the livingroom and let him cry it out. This consisted of two distinct crying jags around 11 pm and 3am that lasted 30 minutes each. In hindsight it sounds like nothing, but I felt every moment as I lay in bed listening to my infant’s wails getting louder and more urgent interrupted only by my husband repeatedly asking me, “should you get him?” (NO! Sadly he was not so much concerned with the baby as with wanting the noise to stop so he could go back to sleep. He’d also roll over to ask how long I was going to let him cry (45 minutes) despite being well informed of the plan and supposedly in full support of it.) So for three nights we did the same routine–I nursed Quinn, gave him a bath, put him in a comfy sleeper and put him down for the night, then listened to him “cry it out” for two different periods. Then last night, the fourth night–only two cries for two seconds each during the usual cry periods. Amazing! I’m up to about 6 hours of sleep at night and I’m really feeling the difference. Not forgetting quite as much, not using the completely wrong word in sentences (as in, “Would you please pass me the bus stop?” Huh?), no truly hysterical laughing bouts, no dumb purchases off the TV, haven’t left my wallet anywhere…who wouldn’t feel better?!

Of course I can’t help but note that I have only been doing one full-time job instead of two this past week. There might be a correlation with my decreased exhaustion level and not having to go to work (outside my home) each day. Nor am I carrying any of the psychological load inherent in working with people with whom I do not always agree (and who I can’t put in a timeout or take away TV privileges to make them stop whatever annoying thing they might be doing or saying). Would this time off feel so sweet though if it were a permanent situation? Not so sure. I’ve spent a lot of time helping to peel stickers out of sticker books only to stick them in a white notebook my older son calls his sticker collection. The stickers are not in any particular order and we complete this task somewhat like a factory line, only stopping so he can count them up periodically. Pointless? Probably not any more so than my endless moving of paper piles from one place to another at home and at work.

I am certain that sleep, the break from work, the hope instilled by the acupuncturist and the author of the 4 hour work week, along with the other factors I’ve mentioned, are all contributing to my improved mood. (And I also started wearing some make up which has been a hit with the kids). I am quite grateful and I hope I haven’t jinxed things by mentioning this all….continued luck to me and to you! xo Diane

By the end of last week, I was fried. End-of-year work issues, holiday parties, over-eating, drinking and spending, gift-giving galore, school performances, teacher presents, another month of interrupted, crumby sleep…Talking to my friend, I shared with some embarassment that I was feeling kind of desperate, really bottoming out. Without missing a beat, she declared that I needed to go see Irena, her accupuncturist “with a gift”. Within 48 hours, thanks to Irena’s sypathetic ear and kind soul, she opened her office on a Sunday afternoon and I was sitting opposite Irena. (Good thing my friend hadn’t directed me to drown my sorrows in ice cream or shopping….)

When she asked me again what I needed help with, again I shared that I felt embarassed to be telling her that I felt depressed and anxious, totally exhausted. Defensively, I added “my life is lovely…healthy kids, lovely home, caring husband”. With a warm smile she replied with what I already knew that “lovely” did not necessarily feed the soul. Other wisdom she shared rather matter-of-factly: evolution had predetermined some of the social and emotional circumstances of my life. For instance, it was ok to feel embarassed to be feeling so low–humans are tribal by nature and the tribe can’t handle too much depression and anxiety. I shouldn’t feel badly about feeling depressed but it was wise to keep one’s feelings to oneself if not feeling completely safe; otherwise the tribe might leave you in the desert to be eaten by anmals (!) These days, people often don’t know how to respond so it is not safe to reveal to everyone how you are feeling. Also to keep my expectations for my husband’s response realistic–that evolution did not allow for straight men to be fully understanding of women’s emotions, that was not their primary role. Fine to share but keep my expectations minimal or be prepared to be disappointed. Irena said all this with kindness and confidence, and I chuckled at myself as I took it all in as obvious.

We spoke at length before I stripped down and prepared for the needle placement. Everything she said seemed so straightforward, so wise. She claimed no credit for herself and simply said the Chinese figured this all out some 4000 years ago. The greatest gem boiled down to the directive that I should try not to overthink things so much. The explanation had something to do with the Chinese determining that too much emotion was the result of too much overthinking and that I’d be better off to just do some of the stuff that I worried about, the consequences of which did not seem very dire. (”So what do you think will happen if you clean off your desk and throw out all those papers and magazines that are weighing you down?”)

My three kids are now awake and playing restlessly on the bed next to me. My husband has left for work and I’m on so this story will need to be continued later…lets see how I do not overthinking for now. To be continued…Diane

Yesterday morning I could not find my wallet. After turning my apartment upside down, it was clear that I had lost my wallet in a cab the evening before…again. I had it when I pulled out my money to pay for my ride. Less than 2 months ago, I did the same thing.

How could I be so stupid? so disorganized? such a loser? If all that goes around, comes around, what have I been doing wrong? I felt horrible and so did my children–they couldn’t believe I’d lost it again either. My search delayed our departure for school and truly left me feeling a bit sick. When I got to work, my colleague asked if I had cancelled all my credit cards to which I replied that I wanted to check my apartment one more time. I borrowed some cab money to take Quinn to his four month check up and thought about all the things that were worse than losing my wallet. At least every one in my family was healthy. At least I wasn’t in a car accident. At least I didn’t break my arm. At least none of my kids’ had broken their arms…as if I had to choose between one of these calamities and losing my wallet.

I was very late for Quinn’s doctor’s appointment and had to wait a long time too. I had told the babysitter she could come to work several hours later because I would take the kids to school, Quinn to the doctor and then meet her at home. What was I thinking? Those seemingly simple events required about a billion steps including making lunches, tying shoes, finding homework, changing into warmer clothes, locating the yellow vaccination card, gearing up the stroller…looking for my wallet. I was exhausted before I’d even left home. Note to self: always have the babysitter come help me in the morning–makes for a much better start to the day and worth every cent.

The doctor concurred that my baby is awesome and then gave him four shots, taken like a trooper. As I walked into my building, I asked the doorman if, by any chance, anyone had turned in my wallet. Nope. Too much to hope for–could lightening really strike twice. Two months earlier a huge, burly taxi driver arrived at my door with my lost wallet in hand before I’d even noticed it was gone. Somehow I was holding out hope that it could happen again.

Upon entering my apartment 5 minutes later, the phone was ringing. It was the doorman saying someone had just found my wallet in the street outside the building and could I please go down to get it??? I was ecstatic and incredulous. I claimed it–gobs of cash and credit cards intact. The act of another kind, nameless New Yorker who just did the right thing because it was the right thing. I gushed with appreciation, relief, marvel at my good fortune, the kindness of strangers. How New York really is a small town in so many ways.

Whats the moral of this story??? People, New Yorkers, can be very kind. I can be very disorganized. I am very lucky. And if all that goes around comes around, I am doing some bad stuff and some great stuff too. Diane

I am just home from our holiday party and I am all aglow with the love I feel for my colleague friends. They are so smart and fun and loveable….how can these be the same people I want to muzzle throughout my day? Today I got into such a heated discussion with co-workers that I was celebrating the fact that I didn’t use the “f word”. It’s been known to happen. (And truthfully I love the f word; it is often the only word that adds that exact punch to my sentiment yet I do fear sounding like a bully when at work since there are always power differentials to consider.) Today one of the discussants politely said we should cool down since we were all clearly feeling “energized”. Our voices were loud, strong and we disagreed. We all had our knickers in a bunch so to speak.

So anyway–the party was a hoot. Colleagues were a tad buzzed and laughing freely. Made me see them again as the dynamic, dimensional, wonderful people that they are. I had an earlier glimpse at the Great, never-used, Re-gift Grab bag party we had earlier in the week. The event was also a Yankee grab bag which meant you could take any one else’s gift who went before you. Someone brought in a battery-operated Conair face scrubber that was easily and immediately recognizable as a vibrator. Someone else brought in a huge collection of White Diamonds perfume and lotions. The biggest hit by far was a bar kit/shaker with a golf theme. The event had me laughing hysterically as colleaguees traded up and duped one another

Even funnier when another colleague was walking around with a huge box of chocolates and referencing the highly inapporpriate Justin Timberlake/Andy Samberg SNL skit which featured a “dick in the box’. Also hilarious.

Another colleague confided that she was separated from her husband and her baby was living with her mom many states away. Ouch. Very kind, very real exchanges. Didn’t miss my dream baby or children. Actually relished the connection with this range of very different individuals…thank you. amen. Diane

Rather than rewrite every past post, can’t we all assume that I have at least as many positive thoughts about my work as negative? I glance over previous entries and fear that I sound too negative, too anxious, too whatever. I’m working on being more accepting of myself–the good, the bad, the ugly. It all adds up to me. And the more accepting I am of myself, the more accepting I will be of you or so conventional wisdom goes. At tne moment, I am feeling like I have a fantastic job and I’m looking forward to the week. Clearly, one would not guess that based on my last entry. You will have to take my word for it though that I am not a raving lunatic with insane mood swings. The cognitive, rational part of my mind actually does know that this range of emotions is normal. Honest.

Yesterday, Sunday, was a blur of holiday parties interrupted by an unexpected funeral of an old family friend. Knowing that I had overscheduled us all from the outset, I tried to go with the flow as events simply fell off our plan. We called to say we’d be picking up our daughter early from a sleepover and then wound up being late; we called to say we’d be late to another event and then had to kill time in the lobby because we were so early. We missed two events all together because of the funeral. This sounds a bit nightmarish and I know I sound disorganized but I am shockingly accepting about the entire day. Stuff happens. And the finality of death puts in all in perspective.

Have a good day! Diane

I have to consciously resist the pull for drama practically every moment at my job. Someone is misunderstanding someone else at every turn and feeling simultaneously paranoid and indignant at each perceived slight. Personally, I have to keep reciting “kill ‘em with kindness” as if I’m warding off spirits.

Complicating matters is the fact that I can’t stop laughing hysterically due to severe sleep deprivation. I’ve been awake since 2:30 am this morning. Fed Quinn, then he fell back to sleep but I’ve been up ever since. A colleague noted that I seemed to have a case of the “giggles” to which I said it was better than “bitter, dark thoughts about hating to work” after which I burst into laugter.

I also called my husband to see if he could come home because it is sleeting out. He said “it’s not like I’m working outside, I’m in a building”. When I warned of the icy streets he said, “I have to walk a block. I’m not 70 and likely to break a hip”. This conversation had me laughing so hard I could hardly breathe. In fact, someone poked their head in my office to see why I was gasping for air. I’m embarassed but there is also something so liberating about laughing and laughing…

Drama, laughter, exhaustion….clearly not doing my best thinking or work here today. Diane