All Or Nothing

When I was in therapy for the first time, my psychologist explained anxious thought patterns to me, and eventually went down a long list reading some off to me to see if I related to any of them. When I say long list, I really mean the giant book she pulled off the shelf in her office. We spent several sessions on that book and I doubt we even got halfway through it.

Anyway, one of the thought patterns that I struggled, and still struggle, with the most is known as “all or nothing” thinking. My perfectionism is a good example of this–if I can't do something perfectly on my first try, there's no use in trying to do it all.

The most difficult part of this to get over was how these thoughts intersected with my feelings. Up until a few years ago, I was convinced that being sad for any period of time meant I was going to be sad forever. I think that also comes from years of stuffing down any unpleasant feelings and not knowing how to handle them. How will I ever not feel sad? Will I feel like this for the rest of my life?

No, of course not. Feelings come and go, some strong and some not as much.

All or nothing thinking really had a grip on me when I was in high school. If I didn’t understand a math assignment, I would get so discouraged. Thoughts about how I couldn’t do anything right, I would never get good at the subject, and more would flood my head and bring me down for an entire day, sometimes more. Don’t even get me started on my ninth grade pre-algebra teacher who, when I asked a question about how to do something, looked at me like she thought I was stupid. That doesn’t help anything.

But it didn’t stop with math. If someone I was talking to seemed to get bored or was completely ignoring me, my brain would unhelpfully tell me that I was invisible, not worth talking to, boring. I would retreat into myself and wallow in these difficult feelings that I had no tools to deal with. Therapy made it easier for me to navigate these situations, for example challenging these thoughts and reminding myself that one bad experience or mistake does not make me a bad person. It’s sad, but that was a hard truth to learn.

The moral of the story is exactly that. One mistake, one botched conversation, one joke that didn’t land does not mean that you are a failure or a bad person. To quote one of my favorite Hannah Montana songs, nobody’s perfect. Everyone is allowed to mess up, including you. I promise no one is thinking badly about you because of one tiny moment, and if they are, they do not deserve a place in your life.

Give yourself a break, you’re doing your best.

—Abbie