DO YOU HAVE TERRIBLE COPING SKILLS? (PROBABLY NOT, BUT LET'S TALK ABOUT IT!)

When I read the tweet above from @MrsSarahAnn on Twitter, I was overjoyed to see someone normalizing an action that so many of us do in a simple and universal way. (True story: my therapist has actually "prescribed" more Netflix when I was going through a rough patch.)

The life-changing part for me, happened when I reposted this on my Instagram with my favorite shows* (she originally mentioned Friends) and the question: "Fellow Anxiety Identifiers, what do you watch/have on rotation?" 

(*I apologize to the hardcore GBBO fans who view calling it the "Great British Baking Show" or GBBS as sheer sacrilege; I have since repented and promise to sin no more!)

The responses blew me away. I watched lightbulb after lightbulb go off as folks listed their favorite "comfort blanket watches" in addition to their amazement that they weren't the only ones who did this particular action to relieve anxiety. Amongst the copious amounts of shows listed there were also innumerable comments like the ones below:

"Oh my gosh. I always felt like something was wrong with me for doing this. I suffer from severe anxiety and I’m so happy to see this is normal."

"This is me, I thought I was the only one!"

"This was exactly what I needed to see today! Sometimes, I feel really guilty for watching too much TV but it's the only thing that makes sense and the only way I feel better some days. I really appreciate that you posted this. It gives me permission somehow."

"Oh my goodness, it feels really good to identify this! I get annoyed with myself for binge watching tv shows or reading non-stop, but it really does help my anxiety to break out of my own life and worries and concentrate on a different story. This makes so much sense. Thank you!"

"Ugh you know those moments when some quirk you had as a child or teenager gets recast as an indication of the very real issues you're dealing with as an adult? ....yep."

And then there was one comment that summed it all up into one sentence: 

"I didn’t know this was a thing... I always just thought I had terrible coping skills."

As someone who has worked with countless individuals and assisting with the development of a list of coping skills—also called survival strategies or wellness tools—I'm fairly accustomed to seeing lists being filled out with everything from taking medication to making crepes to hot showers to taking a walk to petting an animal to having sex (alone or with others) to brushing hair to listening Harry Potter audiobooks and beyond. The options literally, ARE infinite.

There's never been an "official rulebook" for what or what isn't a helpful coping skill because we are all unique in our needs and what makes us feel safe/better.

Does it up your happiness? Does it ground you? Does it bring some peace? Then list it and use it! List and use them all!

And, total transparency, this is simply my personal opinion: After working in behavioral health for the better part of a decade—and also working on my personal recovery!—I don't think that (when it comes to most things, items that harm others being an exception) "terrible coping skills" actually exist.

When I say this, I say it in the context of: we do what we need to in order to survive and if you're still here on this earth, it means you're nailing the survival game!

THIS IS HOW I FEEL ABOUT YOU NAILING THE SURVIVAL GAME:

If I could hit a golden buzzer and blast some wildly tear-inducing, empowering song while glitter rains from the sky for you... I TOTALLY WOULD.

Where the "Maybe I should change some of my coping skills...?" part can come in is if/when we feel like the tools we're using are no longer working for us or we'd like to try something different that jives a little more with our current goals.

It's in those moments that we get to play around with other tools and ideas that may serve us better.

Until then, I'd love to suggest the idea that most of our "coping skills" are wonderful, shame-free, and "normal" actions that we take to keep ourselves alive and (hopefully) thriving! I'm here to cheer you on as you figure out more of what those things are—you are the expert on yourself after all!—and as you keep adding to that "wellness toolbox."

I believe in you, my friend. I really do.

I'd love to hear what some of your coping skills/wellness tools/survival mechanisms are that YOU enjoy! If you feel like sharing, just let me know below!

Offering you permission (only if you want it, of course) to not only survive but thrive,

🎵 SPEAKING OF WELLNESS TOOLS: Each morning starts with some music that lifts my energy and more often than not, you can find me singing along or dancing in my office before sitting down to work. I've made four (free) kick-ass Spotify playlists for you (my current fav is this one) and I'll be adding more as we go along. Add 'em to your library and dance like no one (or everyone!) is watching! 

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10 YEARS OF SELF-PORTRAITS AND WHY IT'S IMPORTANT TO LOVE YOUR BODY NOW

While searching for some old college essays a while ago, I stumbled upon a forgotten Photobucket album that held 48 pages of memories from the last 10 years. I was thrilled to find this photographic treasure chest and eagerly clicked through them, reliving every moment that I had captured. It's so strange, the things that old photos can evoke. 

I could somehow remember the smell of my dorm room, the dust in the abandoned apartments upstairs, that specific monsoon season, those nights smoking cloves in a hoodie, that visit to a park in Baltimore, those tears on top of a parking garage, that drive to nowhere, those feelings of hopelessness, that moment of ecstatic joy, that museum trip with the Renoir exhibit, that afternoon spent listening to Jenny Watson and drinking Highlife in the backyard, that week spent on the circus train, and that cup of espresso in Venice. 

The evolution of me becoming who I am today; my many faces and multiple facets. It all came back to me with such force, it nearly knocked the breath out of me. It was unexpectedly powerful. 

I then noticed how beautiful I was in all these old pictures, and immediately connected this with how much thinner I used to be. I wasn't skinny, but I was not fat in the way that I remembered, and this shocked my nervous system in a way I can't explain.

I became hyper aware of how I felt sitting in my current body, and how I didn't see it reflected in any of the photos on my screen. I was instantly attacked by the cruel teachings of society that I've internalized my entire life.

So I wasn't as fat as I remembered back then. Why did I remember always feeling like I was twice the size that I was? How was my body dysmorphia so extreme that I felt like I was an embarrassment to those around me? Why did I hate myself so much? How could I not see?

The spiraling continued.

Maybe I'm even more of a failure now than I was then and maybe I should lose weight to become like Old Me again. Maybe I would meet more people if I looked like Old Me. Maybe I would succeed more if I looked like Old Me. Maybe I would be happier if I looked like Old Me. Maybe Old Me was better.

And then I caught myself.

I realized that Old Me hated everything about herself. I can see the beauty so clearly now, but she had no idea. She loathed every piece of her body and wished she could trade it in for anything else. Anything. Her self-esteem was nonexistent, though she pretended this wasn't the case. Old Me wanted to die instead of live in that body and I wish I could have hugged her and told her how exquisite she was.

And then I started to sob.

I sobbed for the girl that was so beautiful on the inside and the outside but couldn't see it. I sobbed for the girl who spent years missing out on magical parts of life because her perspective was poisoned. I sobbed for the girl that repeatedly punished herself for not being good enough. And I sobbed for every other person out there who believes the same lies that she did. I sobbed because these lies destroy lives.

And then my answer came. Retrieving the body of Old Me wouldn't change a thing. I'm fatter than I have ever been and somehow I happier than I have ever been. I have a career and mission in life. I have more fulfilling friendships. I am solid in my beliefs. I believe in myself and my purpose. I have learned how to heal. I have people who love me, a partner who adores me, a lover who worships me, and goals that I'm achieving.

I am the happiest I have ever been and this simply proves that happiness is not a size. 

Happiness is a state of being. Happiness is about finding what you love about yourself and sharing it. Happiness is about taking what you hate about yourself and learning to love it. Happiness is an internal sanctuary where you are enough just as you are, right now.

There is a comic by Toothpaste for Dinner that has a drawing of a fat man saying "I hate myself." The next frame is him as a skinny man saying "Nope, that wasn't it." Every time I read it I smile at the profound truth. It's far more difficult to treat our mind and bodies well until we learn to accept them. Nothing good comes out of finding the flaws and harboring resentment towards ourselves. 

Years ago I was more "conventionally stunning" and hated everything about my body; hurting it repeatedly on purpose. I am unconventionally beautiful now and I find myself with more good days than bad. My life is no where near perfect, but I'm learning to love myself. Just the way I am. Right now. And I am happy.

And isn't that what it's all about?

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(Note: This is an updated post from 7/13 before the diluted Body Positive movement became mainstream in 2015. I left the term "body love" in the title per the original post but it's important to know that I am speaking of the concept of body liberation. You can read more about body liberation here!)

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