Day 248: Thought-Tracks

What a strange thing - to be aware of your own thoughts.
It can be really cool and illuminating to have a thought that reveals why you think other things.
It can also be terrifying.

For me - and I would imagine, also, many others - it may be near imperceptible what my thoughts are. My inner thought-track just plays as usual and I'm so used to it that I can't hear it at all.

Until I can.
In small sporadic fragments.

Coaching has helped me to increase this awareness and adjust the tuner a bit more to pick up a clearer signal. But it's a constant work in progress.

Last night I became aware that my internal thought-track is about myself.

It sounds kind of weird that this wasn't obvious before - it's in MY head.
Who else would it be about?!

Others.
Other people.
The unnamed, unknown, audience of my brain that my track narrates to.
The thoughts are never addressed to me, I, or Sarah.

They typically personify and separate parts of me for further commentary.

Such as my fingers.
I often hit the wrong letters when texting and get frustrated.

Last night it happened again, and I was quick to reprimand my unfocused digits.

"Fucking idiot."

[wide-eyed freeze]

Whoa.
Harsh!

For some reason this insult, which isn't particularly isolated, really caught my attention.

Because for the first time it dawned on me that the fingers I was verbally putting down - my fingers - are a part of me.

I was saying that to myself!

Immediately a "protective" thought swooped in.
'but you weren't calling Yourself a 'fucking idiot', you were saying it about the typos...'

Yeah, but I'm the only person here. The fingers belong to me.

I had no idea I was this unkind to myself.

Over the past year, I've come to realize the insecurities and personal hang-ups that I've been working through are rooted in unkindness towards myself. I've encountered the slightly dismissive enabling thoughts of
'yeah, but you're not that mean to yourself. It's not like you think to yourself, "I'm a worthless piece of shit", like some people do.'

Turns out, I wasn't dialed into the right frequency to pick up what was really happening.

Indeed, I was doing that -albeit with a different word choice.

But I had no idea.
I couldn't perceive it because the message, though audible in my head, was projected externally - targeting a person/body part/thing seemingly separate from me.

I didn't know I was projecting.
It just seemed like an off-handed commentary.
Like a funny or random passing observation.

Last night, however, my passing observation was reflected back and I saw it for what it was.

Negative self-talk.
But I wasn't just being unkind to myself, I was being cruel.

As someone who associates and wears the labels of 'good' and 'nice' with pride, this was a shocking and disheartening revelation.

But also an encouraging one.

I finally cracked the code.

I got a glimpse into what's really going on behind layers and layers and layers of closed mind doors.

It's not pretty, but the fact that I saw - and recognized - it once, means that I'll be able to do it again.
And again and again and again.

Building up awareness with each occurrence so that in time I'll not only be able to catch it faster, but I'll be able to replace the messaging with something more kind, loving, and helpful.