Wednesday, April 6, 2016

How To Go Outside (And Other Things That Make Your Skin Crawl)

First and most important, don't think. 

Anything that you think about when you think about leaving the house is your brain's way of telling you to crawl back into your comfort pit, because when you go outside, bad things happen. People hurt you, the weather is too cold, things can't get worse if you don't leave. But the truth is things can't get better if you stay inside. They can only get worse.

You don't have to wallow in your own misery. You can leave any time. You can get out, and when you feel the fresh air on your skin, you'll begin to feel a little better, for a little while. And trust me, any amount helps. Even the memory helps- it will make it easier to get out next time. It doesn't feel like it now, but it's possible.

I'll walk you through it. Sometimes I have to do this for myself, and the smaller the steps the easier it is. Stand up. Put on shoes. If that's too much, put on one shoe. If that's too much, just pick up your foot. Small steps will get you out the door when the concept of going outside is as daunting as climbing a mountain. One step. Another step. It gets easier when the fresh air is on your cheeks.

Tell your brain it's no longer in charge and start moving. That's the hardest part.

~

The same tactic can be applied when you're not in a dark place. For instance, the idea of going to a social gathering makes my heart bounce around my chest and my palms go sweaty, whether I'm in a good place or not. The knowledge that this is what's good for me, it will stretch my boundaries and make my world bigger, doesn't do diddly freaking squat when I'm up against an evening of painfully awkward conversation and lots and lots of stutters. The looks on people's faces, the things they've said and done in the past swarm my vision and keep me in my bed. They hold me down, but it isn't in their power. It's in yours. They aren't actually holding you back, you're holding yourself back. So stop thinking. I'm not saying meditate, or whatever, I'm saying act anyway. Even if your brain is pounding every bad thing that ever happened to you into your mind over and over, stand up. Walk over to someone. Try. You don't have to be stronger than your fear to act anyway- that's how you get stronger than your fear. Speaking instead of hiding in the corner. Making the choice to act instead of run.

It's not easy, I'm not suggesting that you'll succeed every time, or that a shitty person won't leave in the middle of talking to you again because you can't get a word out. That might happen. But you have to keep going outside anyway. You have to keep talking to people anyway. I'm not saying you can't binge chips and marathon Netflix for hours afterward, but you will eventually have to stop doing that because a) you'll die of malnutrition and b) that's also not how you want your life to be. I mean, I know you want your life to be easy, chances are if you're reading this it's probably very hard. Nothing happens easily, you have had to work for every inch of ground you've ever walked on. But life isn't going to be simple, it's never going to be easy. Things don't just happen easily for us, we have to work for them. It's the hardest thing in the world, getting up and trying again, heading towards the same things that have and will hurt you. But every time you walk towards your anxiety it'll get a little bit easier, and you'll gain a little more strength. And those Doritos will be there waiting for you when you get back. Only this time they'll be the Doritos of Getting Shit Done.*









*borrowed from the essay Adulthood Is A Scary Horse by Elodie Under Glass. 

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