Habits

Why is it always so easy to fall out of a habit?

"Studies say, if you repeat something for 3 weeks, it becomes a habit!"

The longer I exist on this planet, the more I start to doubt the validity of that study... Or at least the validity of a habit.

I think habits can be formed from muscle memory. My body is used to doing something whether my brain is thinking about it or not.

I mindlessly complete actions, sometimes not even remembering doing it.

So, maybe a habit is more a way to get through the hard times.

Wake up. Bathroom. Brush teeth. Shower. Deodorant. Makeup.

But what happens when the heavy hand of depression starts to force you down?

What happens when anxiety scrambles your thoughts and ignites a fight or flight?

What happens when our own body seemingly betrays us and our habits?

Routine becomes hard. Things become foreign. We have to try to keep going.

What happened to my habit that I spent so much time building? Why is it so quickly replaced with a new habit of not doing anything?

The dark weight of depression and anxiety cloak my body and disconnect the neurons that should be firing in my brain. There is no more fight or flight. There is simply being numb.

So, I start to think to myself, "What patterns have I taken on to lead me to this moment? What have I been doing to break my habits? What could be so powerful that the muscle memory that can recall how to ride a bike 7 years later can no longer remember my routine?"

And then I realize the more engrained patterns of not dealing with things. I realize the constant need to be doing something. The almost purposeful exhaustion brought on by insomnia. Removing the physical capability of my own body to process things the way it should.

But then, a glimpse of an emotion pokes through. My body reacts. Sadness. Happiness. Anger. Frustration. Love. Lust. Excitement. An overwhelming sense of being.

It's gone as quickly as it came.

Usually, I let the forced neglect continue on. I ride on my "I don't feel things, man" train for a while, and use my disconnected soul to portray a greater sense of confidence and calm than I feel.

But I'm getting better at exploring the emptiness. What actually lives there? What really is the numbness?

For me? It's my mind shutting down. It's me trying to protect myself from myself. I get so frustrated when I can't figure out where an emotion is coming from. For years, I have tried to understand what was wrong with me, but now I understand that there isn't anything wrong with me. I simply trained myself to ignore my own feelings so often that I am unable to recognize what they are.

The frustration of not knowing often turns to anger. When someone asks how I'm doing or what's wrong, I fill with panic. Saying "I don't know" has been deemed an inappropriate response. HOW DO YOU NOT KNOW?!

So I have taken to short responses. Then I wonder if people actually care to know or if they're just being socially acceptable. However, with those people who are close to me, I find that I have stopped with the snippy replies. Instead, I bombard them with a barrage of words for all the reasons I'm not really ok, but I am.

How can I explain to someone that I'm not ok because of the events that have taken place over the last 9 months? How do I get them to see that I'm not just weak or trying to draw it out for attention? How do I make sure that I am still seen as me?

As much as it sucks to admit it, I care about that. And I don't even necessarily think it's for me. I think it's because I don't want them to feel like I can't be there for them anymore. If I all of a sudden seemingly can't handle my own stressors, what good am I in helping them?

I know. Trust me, I know it's fucked up. But that's precisely the way my brain works. That's the way the depression and anxiety take over and tell me that I'm worthless. It's the little voice that questions whether things would be better off without me around. I could be a recluse and not be a bother. I could run off into the wilderness and no longer be a burden. I could, but I won't.

So, I push through another round of getting back into building a habit. Creating a routine. Doing something. I give in to the feeling that slips through the crack, and I let it consume me just so I can feel again.

And it's there. Things are back to normal once again. But why won't it last? What is it in our habits, our routines, that make it so we can't keep a healthy balance of physical and mental health? What has our world today trained us to do that is fucking it all up so much?

I think a lot of it falls onto our lack of understanding about our own mental health. It's a scary place, trust me, I know. It's so easy for someone outside to say words that should help but don't. It's so easy to see someone else's issues and give them advice, but how can we learn the tools to be able to help ourselves more? What is it that we're missing that no longer allows that?

I certainly don't have all the answers, but I know I want to continue to develop the tools to help me get there. Even when the overachiever in mean wants to go all-in with both feet! I am learning to take a step back and be ok with moderation. Yes, we are back to that. Hopefully. it won't ever leave.

So today, I ask that you take a moment to ask yourself what you're feeling and be ok with whatever that is. You may not find the reason why you feeling happy or sad or nothing at all, or you may know exactly what it is and just be unable to deal with it right now. It's all ok. Find what works for you. Start with small pieces. If you take too big of a bite, you're probably going to choke and then be less inclined to go back for another bite.