"If these thoughts (or symptoms) went quiet, what would I have to feel?"

[BloodMoon]

In this video titled 'The Real Problem with Overthinking' Dr Julie Smith (a psychologist) suggests to ask ourselves "If these thoughts went quiet, what would I have to feel?"

I've never heard it put quite like that before and I was thinking that it's something we could ask ourselves regarding mind-body symptoms, e.g. "If this pain went quiet, what would I have to feel?"

 

[Duggit]

In this video titled 'The Real Problem with Overthinking' Dr Julie Smith (a psychologist) suggests to ask ourselves "If these thoughts went quiet, what would I have to feel?" I've never heard it put quite like that before and I was thinking that it's something we could ask ourselves regarding mind-body symptoms, e.g. "If this pain went quiet, what would I have to feel?"

In the video, she used another word for overthinking, namely, intellectualization. It is a well-recognized Freudian defense mechanism. ISTDP therapist Jon Frederickson has a great explanation of defense mechanisms. He says defense mechanisms are lies we tell ourselves to avoid emotional reality, and we use them because "[l]ife is hard, but psychological suffering can be unbearable". The way I would frame the question is this: What unbearable emotion(s) is my intellectualizing covering up?

 

[Patty Cakes]

I was thinking about our mind-body work and reading Rewire Your Mind, especially looking at all the "open tabs" we carry in our heads. It made me realize something specific about my own anxiety and pain loops.

In all my 68 years, I never once had to pump gas—Jeff always handled that. Since he’s been away, I’ve managed to dodge it by using various excuses, but I finally had to face it this week. And it made me look closely at what my mind is actually doing. I made an excuse that I had been hauling in some heavy outdoor things and I managed to escape having to pump the gas by myself.

Most of my daily, everyday tasks don't bother me at all; I can get through them fine. But my mind completely loops and obsesses around anticipation—especially when it's something new or something I fear. The big, heavy open tab that is constantly churning in the background is the worry about the pain itself: Where am I going to hurt today? If I pump gas, is my right side going to flare up? If I have to lift my dog to go to the groomer, as happened this morning, is it going to create more pain? And it did, even before I lifted the dog in the car.

It’s the relentless "what-if" machinery running in my head beforehand, anticipating and fearing the physical flare-up, especially if I have to do something outside of my home. I've always worried about preparing for upcoming events, even those there's nothing really to prepare for. I worry weeks and days prior before and I just can't seem to stop myself from worrying. IF I was to stop the worrying, as the video talked about, what emotions would I feel? I don't have a clue.

 

[BloodMoon]

@Patty Cakes
Perhaps the more useful question for you is not “What would I have to feel?” but “What is it like to be me in this situation?” That may reveal the feeling beneath the thoughts — the feeling that would be there if the thoughts were put on mute.

If, for example, the answer is fear, the task is not to argue with it or make it disappear, but to allow it to be there without being swept up in the protective and distractive thoughts circling around it. Feel the fear we don't want to experience.

Why? Because when we try to avoid an emotion, we can get caught up in thinking as a way of protecting ourselves from it. Allowing ourselves to feel it helps us learn that we can experience it without needing to escape it or make it go away.

My use of Steven Oats’s approach is specifically for breaking the habit of looping thoughts: when I notice the mind repeating the same or very similar frightening or catastrophizing sequence, I lengthen the out-breath and turn my attention back to what I am doing or on to something else. I do not need to analyse the thought, challenge it, or force it away. The aim is not to get rid of fear, but to stop giving the thinking loop my continued attention.

 

[Patty Cakes]

@Patty Cakes
Perhaps the more useful question for you is not “What would I have to feel?” but “What is it like to be me in this situation?” That may reveal the feeling beneath the thoughts — the feeling that would be there if the thoughts were put on mute.

If, for example, the answer is fear, the task is not to argue with it or make it disappear, but to allow it to be there without being swept up in the protective and distractive thoughts circling around it. Feel the fear we don't want to experience.

Why? Because when we try to avoid an emotion, we can get caught up in thinking as a way of protecting ourselves from it. Allowing ourselves to feel it helps us learn that we can experience it without needing to escape it or make it go away.

My use of Steven Oats’s approach is specifically for breaking the habit of looping thoughts: when I notice the mind repeating the same or very similar frightening or catastrophizing sequence, I lengthen the out-breath and turn my attention back to what I am doing or on to something else. I do not need to analyse the thought, challenge it, or force it away. The aim is not to get rid of fear, but to stop giving the thinking loop my continued attention.

I will try and ask myself that exact question. I guess what I really feel is fear of the pain, the fear of the flare up and the fear of uncertainty around the pain. The pain has gotten better but it is still definitely there.

 

[Adam Coloretti (coach)]

I was thinking about our mind-body work and reading Rewire Your Mind, especially looking at all the "open tabs" we carry in our heads. It made me realize something specific about my own anxiety and pain loops.

In all my 68 years, I never once had to pump gas—Jeff always handled that. Since he’s been away, I’ve managed to dodge it by using various excuses, but I finally had to face it this week. And it made me look closely at what my mind is actually doing. I made an excuse that I had been hauling in some heavy outdoor things and I managed to escape having to pump the gas by myself.

Most of my daily, everyday tasks don't bother me at all; I can get through them fine. But my mind completely loops and obsesses around anticipation—especially when it's something new or something I fear. The big, heavy open tab that is constantly churning in the background is the worry about the pain itself: Where am I going to hurt today? If I pump gas, is my right side going to flare up? If I have to lift my dog to go to the groomer, as happened this morning, is it going to create more pain? And it did, even before I lifted the dog in the car.

It’s the relentless "what-if" machinery running in my head beforehand, anticipating and fearing the physical flare-up, especially if I have to do something outside of my home. I've always worried about preparing for upcoming events, even those there's nothing really to prepare for. I worry weeks and days prior before and I just can't seem to stop myself from worrying. IF I was to stop the worrying, as the video talked about, what emotions would I feel? I don't have a clue.

Hi Patty - honestly I think that this is a really good example of how the pain is taking centre stage when that shouldn't be the focus. I'm by no means saying you should feel a certain way about it, but the better question to me is how do you feel about having the pump gas irrespective of the pain, and how does never doing it make you feel? Is there frustration and anger at it? Is there frustration at your husband for never letting you do it? Is there embarrassment? Again, I'm not saying you should be embarrassed because you shouldn't (I'm just throwing out ways you could potentially feel), but I had a similar experience with bike riding and I was embarrassed (even if I didn't want to acknowledge it).

You say you are worrying about how it will impact the pain, and that's fair enough, but to me that's overriding and invalidating other potential emotions around it. It's basically (and I doubt this is true) insinuating to your brain that pumping the gas would be absolutely fine and be of no issue whatsoever if only this pain was gone. See how important that makes the pain? It makes it the enemy and the villain, something that's ruining your life to be rid of at all costs.

But what if the pain reflects other emotions around pumping gas for the first time? if so, it's not an enemy at all it's a messenger. That outlook makes it a lot easier to react better to the pain, as now it's trying to help you instead of punish you.

Hopefully that makes sense - but such a mindset shift can make a huge difference in recovery