There’s a common misbelief that therapists are like all-knowing wizards perched on top of a mountain, overseeing everyone’s climb
Do you ever have “mixed feelings” or experience several different emotions all at once in response to one pertinent issue or life stressor? In these moments, does it sometimes feel like you’re sitting around a chaotic dining table with all of your most opinionated or eclectic family members talking about controversial topics like politics, social issues, simulation theory, flat-earth rhetoric or what kind of bagel is objectively most delicious? You may have just encountered the cacophony of your various inner parts, or your Internal Family System.
I recommend journaling to many clients, and I talk with friends about how good it feels once I actually do it. And there’s always that moment — when I realize I’m not just recording my day anymore. I’m processing and speaking from a place I don’t usually slow down enough to access, and my inner world becomes so much more available.
So often we hear the phrase “new year, new you”. It creates this inevitable expectation that stepping into the new year should feel like a big change to ourselves, our goals, and/or our habits. For this reason, January is a month that can often hold so many mixed emotions: anxiety, guilt, pressure, shame, etc. We begin to feel more behind than inspired.
Many people expect that a steady, responsive, emotionally available partner will automatically feel calming. Instead, many people feel tense or suspicious when someone shows up in a genuinely healthy way. This isn’t a personality flaw, it’s a predictable attachment and nervous system response. So why is this?
My bag only gets stuck on the door handle when I’m having a bad day. Everyone is super annoying when I’m grumpy. My friend’s irritating boyfriend breathes too loudly. When I’m feeling happy it’s easier to find joy in the smaller everyday moments. Does my inner monologue resonate with you?
There’s a common misbelief that therapists are like all-knowing wizards perched on top of a mountain, overseeing everyone’s climb