Conversations With My Self

After getting sober, I began to notice the cycles of my life more clearly. Working with my therapist, I explained how it felt like I was on a roller coaster.

My PTSD symptoms would show up and I’d find myself numbing out with food and tv shows. I would disassociate for so long, I started to feel depressed and worthless about myself, ashamed about what I was doing. When I would lose connection with my Self I became someone I didn’t recognize. Panicking, I leaned into my controlling behavior - starting everything all at once, getting up early, working out, eating well, doing everything perfectly or fail and fall into oblivion again.

It was exhausting.

Upon explaining this cycle, my therapist told me about Internal Family Systems or IFS developed by Richard C. Schwartz. There are three parts surrounding our Self called the Managers, Firefighters and Exiles.

The firefighter part looked familiar immediately. Where I once used alcohol to escape, I was creating a chemical dependence on sugary food and Avengers movies which would calm me down and help me feel better.

Every part of the cycle started to add up. At some point, these separate parts served a very important need to the Self. Somewhere along the way, those neural pathways began to become the preferred route. And so the roller coaster continued.

After learning about IFS from my therapist, I put Richard C. Schwartz’s book No Bad Parts on hold at the library and patiently waited my turn. As soon as I finished the first chapter, I knew this was a book I had to own because I would want to reference it later (or give it away to someone who needs it). In his book, Schwartz advises us to make friends with all parts of ourselves.

The morning after I read this section, I awoke to a dreaded part of myself.

“I don’t want to go to work” she says, “can’t we call in sick?”

Coming off of an atypical weekend without much rest, events full of PTSD triggers and feeling out of control, this sounded like a good idea. At the worst of my PTSD, not being able to work from home, calling out sick was a solace (read more about how remote work is inclusive here).

My stomach reacted in unison. Over the weekend, I had eaten terribly out of inconvenience and being unprepared. The thought of the bar food sandwich I ate with peppers from a can makes me nauseous. I was mad at the circumstances of the world and my body was taking out that anger with shots of pain and nausea. I soothed this resentment with a CBD tincture, decaffeinated green tea (a new treat since I quit caffeine January 10, 2022) and the Tinder Swindler on Netflix. (After my morning pages, of course!)

I eased into the morning instead of getting out to walk the dog and my normal morning routine. I dress for dopamine, a maxi skirt and an off the shoulder long sleeve tee. It’s a boys shirt that says “Don’t stop exploring, you never know what you’re gonna find” with a monster with eyes that glow in the dark.

The shirt has the crew neck cut off to create a really wide neck which helps because I struggle with anything touching my neck after being assaulted. I eventually washed my face and fixed my hair, all while the part of myself with existential dread raged on in my head.

I sat for my morning meditation. I began playing a new guided meditation about trust. I felt like I was buzzing, my energy vibration at odds with itself and throwing my mind in opposite directions to feel as if I was being shaken by someone grabbing my shoulders… a familiar flashback of emotion.

But something different happened. I invited the grieving, fearful, trapped part of myself to tell me what was really going on.

Part 1

“It feels like I’m in a prison I have no chance of getting out of, I want to run away and live a different life.”

All the while I can picture this part of myself, looking like me but strung out in a cold, dark jail cell.

Self

“I’m just here to validate your feelings. I don’t have any solutions, though one day I hope to be a sage advisor. I am just here to hear you.”

Part 1

“It feels like there’s no end in sight. I don’t see an escape. There’s nothing I can do, I’m trapped.”

Suddenly I realize, this is the part of me that ran away from an abusive relationship. This was the part of me that fought back, a part I thought was shameful because of all the yelling and lashing out I did in response to someone verbally, mentally and physically abusing me. I started to feel gratitude. This was my cheetah, my tiger, my LION. My fierce wild cat side that had sharp teeth and claws if and when anyone tried to harm me.

Suddenly her shape began to change. She was a lion indeed, my inner warrior jungle cat but still locked in a prison cell and not fierce at all, and instead curled up in a protective ball. It hurt me to think of this animal as tortured, isolated, beaten down. I recognized all the things that have happened to her.

Self

“I need you, I love you, you saved me. I would never want to live without you.”

I envisioned opening the cell door.

“See, you are not locked in here. I recognize that it feels like we’re trapped by the 9-5 life but there are other parts of me that are building a better life for us.”

A part with glasses comes up. (I have been wearing glasses primarily since I returned from an escape trip to Europe after I was dealing with suicidal ideation, more on this story here) I recognized this part immediately as the manager. She gets shit done, she’s the finance part of the team, the caretaker. I saw her but I asked her to step aside so that my Self could continue the conversation with the Lioness (who I think is the exile). The manager sits behind my right shoulder while I continue to talk to the Lioness on my left.

My Self was being the loving parent, the leader. I imagined the prison cell changing from dark stone walls to bright, happy colors with accessible coping skills and comfort items around - pictures, seats, rugs with flowers on them, fluffy pillows. Real inner child shit.

I sat with this. I envisioned a yard outside the prison cell and promised to take her there whenever it’s sunny.

Self

“I will go outside when it’s sunny, I will take the morning slow, I will take a mental health day on Wednesday.”

I practice building trust with her and my Self and all my parts.

Inside the cell, I position a mirror in front of the Lioness. Leos, amiright? I envision tilting the mirror so that the sun is reflecting onto the Lioness. She is warming up a bit, uncurling with hesitation, not sure if she can relax. This is the side of me that wants to write my story, a fierce warrior who wants to bring my shame and pain to light.

My mind drifts a little back to work, there were important negotiations I had to have that day.

Something magical happens. The Lioness lights up. She is fierce again, a little growl and a quick lift of the right side of her lip, baring her teeth. She is ready to fight for me again. Her powers and her responsibilities and her role shifted from a flight response to run away from this problem to a fight response to ask for the raise my new position deserves.

This is the whole purpose of the book. There are no bad parts within us. Something that may appear bad or annoying or inconvenient or uncomfortable is an area to be explored. If we can see these parts and communicate with them, we may be able to lead them to behavior that is more helpful to our entire selves.

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“I see you, Mara. Come, let’s have tea.” - Buddha