I’ve heard a lot of bad advice over the years, often doled out by the well-meaning loved ones of someone suffering from depression or anxiety. No disrespect to the loved ones; they really are doing the best they can. But when you’re anxious and someone tells you to, “just stop thinking about it,” it can feel like a kick in the teeth. If only it were that easy.
The problem is, we tend to berate ourselves with the same bad advice:
“I should just be able to let it go.”
“I tried to make myself stop thinking about it, but I failed.”
“I’m doing this to myself.”
Here’s the thing. Telling yourself to stop thinking about something is a paradox, like going back in time and killing your grandpa. Let me explain.
Choose something in the room you’re sitting in right now to focus on. Let’s say you choose a window. Look at it. Name it: that’s a window.
Okay, now stop thinking about that thing. Don’t think about the window. Don’t look at it. Don’t remember what it looked like when you last looked at it. Take the thought of the window, put it in a box, and throw it out of your mind. Watch the box soaring out of your mind. There, now the window is gone. Window, window, window.
Is the window out of your mind yet? Did you successfully control the thought and make it stop? Of course not - you’re more focused on that window than ever before. It now takes up more space than it did three minutes ago. But now there’s another dynamic in play. In addition to thinking about the window, you’re also thinking about how you can’t control your thoughts about the window. The act of trying to stop thinking about the window increased your attention on the window. This is a paradox.
Which is fine. It’s just a window, and no one cares if you can’t stop thinking about the window. But let’s say you have a big meeting tomorrow. You’re trying not to worry about it, but you’re really stressed. It keeps coming up, so you tell yourself, “Stop thinking about it!” By telling yourself to stop thinking about it, you’re thinking more about it. Paradox.
Now you not only feel anxious about the meeting, but you also feel helpless, out of control, or like a failure, because you can’t make the thoughts and feelings about the meeting go away. In trying to eliminate your anxiety, you have doubled it. That’s nasty math.
Stop telling yourself to stop thinking about it. Stop telling yourself to stop feeling that way. And for the love of rescue dogs, stop telling other people to stop those things too. It doesn’t work. It makes things worse.
Instead, try this: imagine that thought or emotion as an ugly little dog (just kidding, all dogs are cute). We’ll call him Stew. Maybe he has mangy fur. He has three nubby teeth and a tongue that doesn’t fit in his mouth. He smells weird, and when you pet him, it leaves a greasy residue on your fingers. And he follows you everywhere, because Stew loves you so very much.
Stew is here because he’s devoted to you and wants to help, but he is so bad at helping. He piddles when you look at him. He growls at friends. He snaps at strangers (you have three teeth, Stew). He barks at air. If you try to make Stew go away, he’s going to climb onto your shoulder and cling to you, and his little claws are not going to let go of your clothes. He’s going to try to get his tongue in your nose. He will be successful. If you fight Stew, you will lose.
But if you let Stew follow you around, maybe he’ll trot along quietly behind you. When you sit down, he’ll curl up at your feet, and you can work on that email or finish your lunch. When you go out with your friends, he might be there in the background, but he’ll fall asleep and leave you alone. Stew is not going to hurt you. He can be there, and you can keep doing what’s important to you.
When you release control of a thought or emotion, it loses control over you. When you give it kindness, it can become less threatening.
Let’s go back to your stress about the meeting. The stress is going to be there, and that’s okay. You will survive the emotion. It will suck, and then it will be over. If you try to make it stop sucking, it will still suck, and then your failure to make it stop sucking will also suck, so now two things suck. This is like Stew clinging to you when you try to push him away. Now he’s snagged your sweater, and in a minute he’s going to lick your eyeball. Nobody wants that (except Stew).
So how about you let the emotion be present? Notice it, acknowledge it, and then return your attention to whatever you were doing. For example: you’re trying to plan your daughter’s birthday party, then your mind goes, “THAT MEETING IS ONLY TWO HOURS AWAY AND IT WILL BE AWFUL AAAAAHHH.”
First, take a deep breath. That’s a big, scary thought. You need oxygen.
Next, imagine that thought as Stew, barking his mangy little head off. Notice that thought. Notice how it feels. Now, don’t try to make it go away. Don’t try to kick Stew out of the room. He will wrap his body around your ankle like a slap bracelet made of super glue. He will become one with your calf, and you will be even more stressed out. Instead, try this: “Hey Stew, thanks for letting me know about the meeting. I hear you. You can hang out here, and I’m going to get back to planning this party.” Take another deep breath, imagine scratching his scabby head, and turn your attention back to the party.
Stew is going to bark again. He may bark a lot. That’s okay – the goal is not to stop his barking. The goal is to give him a little gentleness, then bring your attention back to the task at hand. That’s all.
Are you still thinking about the window?
I'm keeping "Like a slap bracelet made of super glue" in my collection of fabulous metaphores!