#oneaday Day 770: Motivation: the Sergeant-Major vs the kind voice

At therapy today, we were talking a bit about motivation, and how I feel like I've been struggling with it a bit of late — particularly when it comes to things like diet and exercise. One conclusion that I think we came to was that I am much more likely to be motivated to do something if I am kind to myself about it — and understanding of the fact that, while you might have grand long-term plans to achieve something that is well worth achieving, getting started will probably be quite a slow process.

To take exercise as an example, it's easy to say to yourself "I should exercise for at least half an hour at least three times a week" and then immediately feel like a failure the moment you don't manage to achieve that. (I am aware that is not very much exercise by some people's standards, but it's just a hypothetical baseline for the scenario I'm talking about here.) Setting yourself unrealistic "minimum" targets and then feeling bad when you fail to achieve them is not the way to develop long-term, healthy, sustainable habits, because you come to resent your unsuccessful attempts to live up to the completely arbitrary target you have set yourself, and end up not doing anything as a result. And with anything worth doing, doing that thing a little bit is always, always better than not doing the thing at all.

When I was talking about this, my therapist pointed out that I had a clear shift in my tone of voice. I was speaking purely in abstract terms about how my mind approaches such things, but I had subconsciously shifted to a rather stern-sounding voice (which she described as "the Sergeant-Major") when talking about not being able to meet those "minimum" expectations. And it's true; if you constantly berate yourself for not achieving something, that is, for most people, not a way to motivate yourself to achieve that thing. (It may well work for some people — I am not one of them.)

Conversely, when I think back over the times when I have had the most success getting myself to achieve something — or the times when I've been most convinced by another person to do something — it's always been when kind, gentle encouragement is on offer. A recognition of the fact that something might be difficult, at least to begin with, but a calm suggestion that I at least try something and see how I get on — and if I'm not able to achieve the Grand Target right away, that's fine! Taking a first step is still a step on the road to success, and however small that first step might be, it's better than stumbling so hard you decide the whole thing just isn't worth bothering with at all.

So this is something for me to work on. Acknowledge my successes. Take things one step at a time, a little at a time. Track my progress to celebrate my achievements, not to measure up how close I am to an arbitrary target that ultimately means nothing to anyone but myself.

Because, frankly, I can do that. Look at the post number on this post. Contemplate the fact that this is the third time around on this train, and I have successfully been motivated to do that day after day. This is exercise for the mind. Exercise for the body can be achieved in a similar way. One day at a time, a little at a time, until you wake up one day and you've achieved something that is important and worthwhile to yourself. Others may not recognise your achievement in the same way, and that's fine! It doesn't matter. So long as you have achieved something that you, yourself, find fulfilling, you have succeeded. And you can build from there.

To quote Soul Blazer, which I finished recently (and wrote about! and made a video about!): "Like good sleep comes after hard work, good rest comes after an honest life." I'm not planning on reaching "rest" any time soon, of course — touch wood and all that — but I do, honestly, want to ensure that I have no regrets. And living that honest life comes by taking things one step at a time, recognising your achievements every step of the way.

Want to read my thoughts on various video games, visual novels and other popular culture things? Stop by MoeGamer.net, my site for all things fun where I am generally a lot more cheerful. And if you fancy watching some vids on classic games, drop by my YouTube channel.

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#oneaday Day 743: Talk therapy

I've alluded to it a bit recently, but I thought I'd talk specifically about it today. For the last little while, I have been attending talk therapy. I have been meaning to do this for a long time, because there are lots of people I know and trust who have made use of it, but I always found the prospect of choosing a therapist and actually getting started on the whole process to be extremely daunting. How do you pick the "right" one for you? What do all the different "approaches" mean? Can I really afford to do this?

woman lying on the couch at a therapy session — Not an image of either my therapist or me. Photo by Timur Weber on Pexels.com

Well, the answer to the last one was easy; at some point in the last couple of years, I feel like I've got to a point where I'm in a relatively comfortable position in terms of finances — after many years of finding money an absolutely panic-inducing but unavoidable aspect of life, this is good — and thus I didn't feel that making what is a fairly substantial financial commitment to my own wellbeing was something that would be inadvisable.

Technically, you can get talk therapy on the NHS, of course, but my past experiences with that haven't been great — because yes, I've tried. In practice, what happened was that I got referred to a scheme by my GP, but left to my own devices to follow it up — something which I found very difficult to do — and when I finally mustered the courage to join said scheme, I found it absolutely, definitely did not fit my needs at all, as it was a group therapy session, and that was not a situation where I felt, in any way, comfortable.

I'd stumbled across a local organisation known as The Empathy Project a few times during past sessions of research, so this time around I decided to actually be proactive and contact them directly. Their therapists aren't the cheapest around — though they do have a scheme where those on more limited incomes can take advantage of semi-subsidised sessions — but they seemed like a legitimate organisation, and as good a place as any to actually see if Getting Some Professional Help was actually, well, helpful.

I will add that I started attending therapy sessions well before my current situation with Oliver, so thankfully I was in a somewhat more coherent, clear-headed place than I am right now — and I am glad that I already had everything sorted out well before I, as you might look at it, really needed this kind of support.

Anyway, to those of you considering starting some sort of talk therapy: I recommend it. It is Very Good to have a place where you feel like you can say the things that perhaps on a day-to-day basis you don't feel you get the opportunity to say under normal circumstances — or which, for one reason or another, you don't feel comfortable expressing. It is Very Good to have a place you can go where someone will listen to whatever you have to say, however much difficulty you might have explaining it, or however worried you might be about people not taking it seriously. It is Very Good to have a place where, if necessary, you can burst into tears and the only other person present there knows how to handle that.

Therapy is not a magic bullet solution to all the things that ail your mind. Mental health is complicated, and many of the things you struggle with are likely to be ingrained over the course of years, even decades. You will have times where you feel like you make progress, and times where you feel like things have gone a bit backwards. But it is a place where there are no wrong answers to difficult, abstract questions, and where, if you allow yourself to let go of many of the usual social restraints you might place upon yourself when around family and friends, you can freely express things that have been bothering you — and perhaps come to realise quite how much some of them have actually been affecting you. At the other end of the spectrum, it is also sometimes the case that things which have felt like they have taken over your entire life for a certain period sometimes just need you to be able to talk about them in a safe, non-confrontational and non-judgemental environment.

All this is to say that in the time I've spent in therapy so far, I've found it very helpful. I still have a lot of work to do on a lot of things about my life and my mental health, but already I have found myself able to acknowledge a bunch of things that are perhaps difficult to contemplate independently, to say the least — and I'm sure I will continue to discover things in subsequent sessions. I just need to get through this current particularly bleak episode in the saga of my life to be able to move forwards.

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#oneaday Day 714: End of a long week

It's been a very long, stressful, challenging week, but I'm finally at the end of it. Sure, I had to work a little late this evening (by choice — I wanted to get the thing I was working on finished before the weekend so I could start afresh on some other things I need to do next week) but now it is officially the weekend. And it's a long one, too, what with it being a bank holiday on Monday.

grayscale photo of elderly man sleeping on a rock — Photo by PRIYA MISHRA on Pexels.com

I am tired. Very tired. I'm also worried that we have not-very-long to get a hell of a lot done, but no-one else seems to be panicking about it, so I'm trying not to panic. Trying. I am mostly succeeding, but there are times when I do feel a bit "OH GOD OH SHIT WHAT THE HELL". I can usually get through those times, though.

This is something I was talking about at therapy this week. One of the things that has sort of… emerged in our conversations is the fact that I do have what my therapist describes as a "wise" side, which, at times of great difficulty, anxiety or stress, can usually break through the noise of poor mental health and set me if not completely "right", then certainly on a somewhat more productive path than staring at a wall wishing the entire world would go away for a bit.

It is a challenge, sometimes, to allow that apparently "wise" part of myself to speak, but one thing I am learning to acknowledge about myself is that this part of myself does exist, and that when I do allow it to speak, it usually has something eminently sensible to say. It's not a part of me that admonishes me for making mistakes or doing things inefficiently; it just calmly, gently says to me something along the lines of "look, here are the facts, here is what you can do about it, here is what you probably should do about it" and then, barring a complete breakdown of mental health, I can usually then get on with the thing.

Of course, in the past I have experienced times where that voice can't get through. I have experienced times where things really were bad, and I knew there was no way of really avoiding the "bad". I endured, though, and I like to think my experiences have made me stronger as a result. After all, as much of a state as I consider myself to be in at times, I am still here. I am still going. I am still fighting. I haven't given up.

And oh, there have been times when it would have been easy to give up. At least one of those occasions has been immortalised on this blog, although at the time I sort of danced around the subject in the things I was writing, because I think on some level I was conscious of the fact that although I was having thoughts of giving up on everything at times, I didn't really want to follow through on them in any sort of way that would have had permanent consequences. Hell, I'm doing it now, because part of me doesn't believe that I was ever really willing to give up.

And I guess maybe I wasn't. Because, like I say, I am still here. There are things I would like to change. Things I would like to improve. Things that I wish were different. But I know all of those are things that I can, potentially, do something about. I am not helpless. I am not useless or worthless. There is reason and value to my existence.

That got a tad deeper than I perhaps intended, but it was one of those occasions when the thoughts just sort of started flowing, so I thought I'd run with it. Anyway, I'm off to go and eat ice cream and play some video games now. Have a lovely long weekend, everyone.

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#oneaday Day 686: A space to say things

As I mentioned a few days ago, I have started Going to Therapy. It has been pretty good so far, for one big reason: it is a place where I can go where I feel like I can pretty much say anything.

psychologist writing on clipboard during session — Photo by Alex Green on Pexels.com

This is such a valuable thing to have, whatever form it takes. And I know I say a lot of things on this blog, but there are certain things I have second thoughts before posting about. Just this evening, I deleted the start of a post where I was going to have a go about something, then decided that the potential arguments it might start (it's not anything racist, sexist, homophobic, transphobic or anything like that, don't worry) just simply would not be worth the stress it would cause.

To put it another way, the benefits I would gain from getting those thoughts out of my head and onto paper would be far outweighed by the stress any subsequent "discourse" might cause. (Or it might not. But in this instance I think it's best to just not take the risk at all.)

Modern life is exhausting, and talking to the people who are closest to you can sometimes be difficult for all manner of different reasons. When that's the case, you can find yourself bottling up emotions, particularly frustrations and anger, and not really having any way to release them. And that's why having a space to say things is important.

Your space to say things doesn't have to be Going to Therapy. It could be a journal that you keep for yourself, written by hand and locked in a drawer, for your eyes only. It could be a password-protected note in your note-taking app of choice. It could be a voice memo you leave for yourself. It could be abstractly represented through a piece of art, music or writing you choose to create. It could be something you tell your cat when no-one else is around.

It can take many forms. What's important is that you feel like you have it. Ideally it provides you with a feeling of "release", that you've let those emotions out of your brain, acknowledging their existence and how they are making you feel, and perhaps contemplating why you are having them in the first place.

Is the thing you think you are mad about really the thing you are actually mad about, or is it a symptom of something more broad that you need to deal with? Is the whole thing a situation you have put yourself in that you can just as easily extract yourself from? Take a step back from the part of you that is angry and frustrated, and talk to them. What, exactly, is upsetting them? Why are they feeling that way? What do they think they should do about it? What do they think they can do about it? What do they think the consequences for doing something about it might be, and do they think those consequences are worth the temporary catharsis of doing the thing?

There are no easy answers about this sort of thing, but it always pays to be reflective and contemplative. The modern world — and particularly the Internet — is set up in such a way to deliberately make us nearly constantly mad and frustrated, and it's easy to forget that when the red mist starts to descend and all you want to do is yell at someone. That's what a significant amount of the Internet wants, and I'm not just talking about trolls. It's in corporations' interests to keep you mad, because being mad means you're engaged. And engagement, after all, is the be-all and end-all of modern-day "KPIs".

I've taken a step back from the thing I was mad about. I'm still a bit mad about it, but on reflection, it's really not something that is all that worth getting mad about. It is something I can, relatively easily, put to one side and never think about ever again.

So I think I'm going to do that. Or at least try to, anyway.

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#oneaday Day 680: Real problems

Let me say a simple phrase to you, and I invite you to, quietly, to yourself, ponder what that phrase means and says to you.

Male loneliness epidemic.

I mention this because it is something I see being increasingly mocked by supposedly progressive types online, and it always rubs me up the wrong way any time I see it happening. Don't get me wrong, I understand why those people mock this phrase — it's because it's significantly more likely to be used by odious twats who think the be-all and end-all of existence is "getting" a girl to sleep with them, and any time these people talk about the male loneliness epidemic, what they actually mean is "God, I can't trick women into fucking me, woe is me."

To be clear: that kind of behaviour is shitbag fuckboi material, and anyone engaging with it needs to take a long, hard look at themselves. Ask not "how can I get a girl?", as if she is something to be possessed, but rather "how can I make myself into someone that other people might be interested to know?"

However, here's a significant issue. I firmly believe that there is a problem with modern men and loneliness. And the combination of the I'm A Nice Guy, Why Won't Anyone Fuck Me people and the hahaha, male loneliness epidemic losers people makes it very difficult to have a frank and honest conversation about what is actually a very real problem.

What I mean by this is that I am a man, and I am lonely. I used to have a lot of friends when I was younger, but over the years that number has dwindled to such a degree — not through my own lack of trying to maintain them — that I now have some exceedingly strong self-esteem issues over my own value as a human being. And these are, of course, compounded by my own status as being On The Spectrum, which commonly manifests itself as paralysing social anxiety, particularly when in an unstructured socialisation sort of situation.

I used to be glad for the friendships I had. I was grateful that people seemingly wanted to have me around, enjoyed having me around. I felt that, even though I still struggled in situations where I was surrounded by unfamiliar people, I had places where I belonged, and people that I belonged with. And, by extension, I felt like I was the sort of person who had something to offer as a friend.

Various happenings have left me… not feeling like that any more. When combined with the absolute revulsion I feel at my physical appearance — a result of a lack of self-control that probably ties back in with anxiety and depression, and the thorough bizarreness of the COVID years — it is difficult to feel like I have any value any more. That's probably a terrible thing to say about oneself, but… well, it's how I feel. I am forever grateful to my family, my wife and my cats for being constants in my life that I can rely on; I am, at least, thankful that I am not in a situation where I have literally nothing.

I'll admit something to you now: I started going to therapy last week. And the above is one of the subjects that came up. It's going to be something that I need to work on. I don't yet know how that will happen, or what form that work will take, but those conversations have already started. So it's not as if I'm completely without hope.

It's just frustrating when you might want to talk about these things with someone other than a Qualified Professional, but you fear the reaction is just going to be hahaha, male loneliness epidemic loser. I thought the problem was that dudes don't talk about their feelings and emotions enough? Belittling them isn't going to help with that, now, is it?

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#oneaday Day 586: Commitment

I'm back from The Day At The Office. I haven't set my office PC back up again yet though, so no tablet drawings for now. I'm tired and can't be arsed to faff around with wires right now, so it's plain text for today I'm afraid.

Anyway, as I said yesterday, I'm pretty determined to make 2026 the Year I Beat My Weight. Not, as in previous years, the year I beat my previous record for "highest weight Pete can be", but rather, the year I figure out exactly how to get on top of losing it.

I have a several-step plan that I will begin pursuing from tomorrow. (Today is a write-off due to all the travelling and the Wingstop we just had for dinner. We had the Wingstop with the full knowledge that we're both going to be Eating Healthy from tomorrow.) Here are the several steps:

I will use the Lose It! app to track my daily calorie intake, and keep below the daily recommended number of calories that will supposedly allow me to lose weight. In doing so, I will continue to enjoy the things I enjoy, but in better moderation. I will not be switching to a "half a banana and a handful of chia seeds for breakfast"-style diet, because that will probably make me want to kill myself.
I will count calories even if I go "off-plan" and have myself a "treat", to better educate myself in potentially how much damage I can do to my efforts if I "treat" myself too often.
I will do at least 30 minutes of exercise per day, on some combination of my under-desk elliptical machine and/or the treadmill that we have now set up in the spare room.
I will not use the calories burned during exercise as "bonus calories" to have additional Nice Things.
I will research and reach out to some form of psychotherapeutic support to help with my efforts.

That last one, I think, is going to be the big "different thing" I try this time, and I suspect it will be helpful. As I mentioned yesterday, while I mostly found my referral to the weight loss programme via the NHS to be unhelpful, the one aspect I really did feel like I was getting something from was the counselling aspect. Through talking therapy, I felt like I was able to start looking at my behaviours (conscious and unconscious) that have led me to this point, and to figure out ways I might be able to modify them. Unfortunately I had so few sessions that I don't feel like I really got anywhere — but I feel like if I had been able to spend more time with the therapist in question, we could have made some progress.

One thing that came out of those few conversations, and something that I find my thoughts returning to, is that some of my behaviours are consistent with a pattern of addiction. Anecdotally, having had experience with other people dealing with addiction, I would be inclined to agree. I recognise this. I recognise patterns in myself that I have seen in other people who were struggling with addiction. And I feel that is an important starting point. As with any addiction, though, the struggle will always be in breaking it, little by little. Because you can't really go "cold turkey" (so to speak) with food — unlike various forms of chemical abuse, you still need food to operate normally, and thus breaking any sort of food-related addiction is more about developing a healthier relationship with food rather than completely breaking your "attachment" to it.

But I'm probably getting ahead of myself there. Fact is, I think having some sort of Professional Help would be… well, helpful. Up until now, I've been hesitant, because Professional Help is 1) relatively expensive and 2) daunting to find your way into. 2) applies doubly in my case, because my social anxiety makes it a huge effort to be able to make contact with a stranger, but also it's overwhelming to see the sheer number of therapists that are out there, and having absolutely no idea who might be "right" for me.

Thus I think rather than taking the "roll of the dice" approach and just stabbing randomly at a huge list of therapists in my area, I'm going to try making use of an organisation known as The Empathy Project that operates in my area. This is a small, non-profit organisation based in the town I call home, and I can't remember how I stumbled across them, but I seem to have added myself to their mailing list at some point. What I have read about them online seems positive, however, and thus referring myself to them seems like it would be a solid starting point, if nothing else.

So, tomorrow, I am kicking all this off. I will be counting calories, I will be exercising, and I will be referring myself to someone who might be able to help me through this. I'm feeling oddly positive about this right now, so let's just hope I can keep this mental momentum.

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#oneaday Day 1: Blogging Therapy

Good evening. If the header looks familiar, you've doubtless been following this blog for quite some time and will remember that time, starting in January of 2010, where I decided to participate in a loosely organised blogging project. Dubbed "One A Day" or, more commonly, "#oneaday" due to its origins on Twitter, it was a collective effort by all the participants to write something — anything — every single day for a year.

I joined the project a little late, but ended up going the distance considerably more than some of the other people who started alongside me — including the original organisers, several of whom gave up after less than a month. I eventually managed 2,541 posts, eventually calling it a day on December 31, 2016.

Sometimes I think about that project and the value it had for me. Ultimately, I don't think I really got a great deal out of the "community" side of things — on the contrary, when I decided to step forward and encourage a group of bloggers to do a year of #oneaday in aid of charity, I got a fair chunk of abuse from the original organisers, who still felt some weird sense of "ownership" over the concept of daily blogging, despite having dropped out of the whole process very early. But what I did get out of it was a sense of… I guess "therapy" is probably the best word for it.

My starting #oneaday first time around coincided with one of the absolute worst times of my life, during which I suffered bullying at work, culminating in me being dismissed from a job I loved because I stood up for a colleague who was also being bullied; a period during which my first marriage broke down irreparably and left me alone, without an income and staring down what I saw back then as the humiliating possibility of having to return home to stay with my parents; a time when my anxiety and depression were enjoying a particular "peak" (or is that a trough?), to say the least.

One of the things that got me through that period mostly intact was making the time each evening to sit down and write something. It didn't necessarily have to be about what had happened that day or even how I was feeling at that point; just the act of being creative was somehow comforting. It seems that the human mind is often at its most creative when it is suffering, and I was most definitely suffering around that time. And indeed on several other occasions during those 2,541 posts.

It's not an exaggeration to say that daily blogging helped get me through that time. It's not an exaggeration to say that daily blogging is a significant part of why I am still here to write this right now. Because believe me, things inside my head were bleak for quite some time on several separate occasions.

Today, on the 8th of June, 2024, I'm not in anywhere near as bad a situation as any of those previous instances, but my mental health most certainly has been dipping down into a bit of a trough for quite some time. So I thought it was time to kick the tyres on this here ol' blog, which is still humming away, and make a commitment to writing something every day in the hopes that it might help, even a little.

I will hasten to add that my sudden inclination to write something on here is nothing to do with the events of today specifically, which were actually rather pleasant; some friends who I haven't seen for some time were all finally available to come and have a day of playing video games and chatting. We haven't done this for a long time — I've tried to make it an annual tradition of sorts, since our respective lives make it difficult to do anything more regularly — and it was nice. But some of the conversations we had got me thinking, and that indirectly led me back here to the "Compose" page.

So anyway. That's what this is. I've rambled on for long enough for today, so perhaps we'll talk a little bit more about my present situation and what I really hope to get out of all this another time. For now, let's just say it's good to be back, and I'll see you again tomorrow.

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2091: Singular Sensation

0091_001

In response to The Daily Post's writing prompt: "Singular Sensation."

"If one experience or life change results from you writing your blog, what would you like it to be?"

I've talked about how this blog is helpful to me personally on a number of occasions in the past. It's an outlet, mostly, albeit one I've chosen to make public as a means of sharing "who I am" with the rest of the world. You may like what I say, you may hate it, you may judge me harshly or you may empathise with the things I'm saying, but you can be certain that everything I write here is the honest truth at all times, warts and all.

And, to be honest, I've already had experiences and life-changing results from writing this blog, though I didn't necessarily know what effect I was having at the time. My particularly tough year back in 2010 is something I keep coming back to, but I don't mind admitting that sitting down and getting some thoughts down on "paper" on this very site each day helped me through the worst of a terrible situation. It didn't immediately resolve anything, but it at least gave me the chance to feel like I was able to express the many, many conflicting feelings swirling around in my head at the time.

And this is something I still keep in mind when I write something here every day now. I write from the heart, without particularly planning things out or attempting to compose something with good structure; instead, this is a scratch pad for random thoughts, a place to jot down memories so I don't forget them, a place to enthuse about the things I love and a place to rant about the things I hate. I do try not to stick to the same topic all the time, but you know what people are like — everyone likes what they like, so even with the best of intentions, I know that I inevitably find myself drifting back towards the things I enjoy writing about the most.

Actually, my occasional adoption of these writing prompts from The Daily Post is an attempt to mix things up a bit; the prompts aren't always particularly appealing or relevant to me, but when they are, they can providing a good starting point for something to write about. Plus I've found that posting a pingback to The Daily Post via the link at the top of one of these posts brings in some new people who perhaps wouldn't have found me normally. Sometimes those people stick around; at other times, they may linger for just one or two posts before disappearing into the darkness of the Internet once again. Either way, it's nice to come across new people now and again, and know that I've touched their lives, even in a minor sort of way.

So, then, I don't think I have any particular grand plans for something I want to achieve using this blog. By this point, it's something I just keep around because I've been doing it for so long — and, well, I kind of enjoy coming up with something to write about each day, too. It's part of my routine now; so much so that whenever I'm away from home I always make sure I have some means of posting while I'm away. After 2,091, it's a hard habit to break — and I don't particularly want to, either.

So whether you're a longtime reader or someone who's just dropped by after seeing a pingback on The Daily Post, thank you, once again, for listening to my nonsense, and I hope you got something out of it, even it was just the hint of a smile for whatever reason.