I roll over in bed and grope in the dark for my phone, resting on my nightstand. Squinting to read the time on the screen, I grimace. 2:58 a.m. I’ve already been awake for a while, and this is feeling all too familiar. The increasing frequency of my nocturnal anxiety-fests is clueing me in to the fact that all is not well with me.
On this particular night, the absurdity of the critical voice in my head was enough to jolt me into reality. The weeks leading up to this had been focused on preparations for our daughter Katie’s graduation celebration, while holding all of the emotions I was feeling about this milestone: pride, grief, joy, love, loss, fear, hope. I wasn’t surprised by the anxious voice in my head worrying about whether we would have enough food, if the weather would allow us to be outside as planned, if people who had been invited would actually show up, or if Katie would be happy with how things turned out and feel loved and celebrated.
My to-do list was a mile long, yet I felt like I had done a good job of enlisting help from family and friends, as well as being realistic in the amount of work I wanted to put into all the preparation myself – resulting in a sanity-saving catering order from Qdoba. All things considered, feeling a level of anxiety in this case was not a surprise to me, it felt like a perfectly normal response to a major event.
It was when that anxiety and fear took on a life of its own, firing up the inner critic to begin a barrage of harsh accusations, that I began to recognize the seriousness of the path my mind was taking, even while “at rest.”
Here’s the absurd part: the day of the open house was absolutely beautiful, sunny and warm, but not oppressively hot. We had tables and chairs and tents and centerpieces and picture displays all set up on time, and looking even better than we’d hoped. The food was delicious and plentiful, our only real trouble a clogged spout on the lemonade dispense – a problem easily solved with a ladle. Many of those invited came, some for a few moments, but more who lingered long enough to enjoy conversations and food and a sense of celebration and life. Our “people”, our closest community, lingered the longest, and the “after-party” was yet another sweet reminder of the goodness of life lived in close relationships. So much goodness to savor…and that night is where I began this story, awake at 2:58 a.m., my mind running in critical circles.
As I replayed the day’s events in my mind, I kept coming back to the amount of food we had left over at the end of the party, and I realized I was feeling shame about having so much. The words that interrupted my sleep that night were full of accusation: “You’re so stupid, you can’t even figure out how to accurately figure for serving large numbers of people. Your anxiety is a problem, if you weren’t so anxious you wouldn’t have worked so hard to avoid running out. Your inept planning was costly – look at how much money you spent for more food than you needed – what a waste! And you wouldn’t have needed to spend that much money if you had just made it all yourself, what kind of a mom are you anyway? Your friends are going to think you’re crazy, being so worried about having the perfect amount. You should be better by now at not letting fear have so much power over you.”
Putting the words down on paper, I feel their harshness more deeply. I realize how untrue they are, even though they felt absolutely true in the moment. My heart feels vulnerable, and I find myself wondering what others will do as they read the words of my inner critic’s rant – will your mind be echoing with similar rants, products of your own inner critic? My experience tells me I am not alone in this, shame tells me I am.
It feels like these themes of criticism and judgment are big ones for me this year, and I am coming to realize how often my peace is interrupted with thoughts and words that are anything but kind. As I’ve wrestled with how impossible it feels at times to separate the truth of what I am feeling from the harsh, critical voice inside me, I remember a phrase that is as powerful today as it was 6 years ago when I first heard it spoken in a therapy group dealing with the trauma of sexual abuse: “The voice of God is always kind, always.”
I was not alone in that group of women, struggling to block out the voices of accusation that told us our shame was permanent and deserved. That was the beginning of what will be a life-long journey to bring kindness to those parts of me that are still holding pain – places where my inner critic is simply a young part of me, trying to protect me from more pain. The next time I find myself anxious and awake in the middle of the night, I want to bring the kind words of Jesus, speaking words of love and blessing and delight to the places in my heart that are letting me know they need care.
Janet Stark is a woman learning to embrace her depth and sensitivity. Inspired by Mary pondering things in her heart, Janet writes about her experiences here. She is grateful for the deep love she shares with her husband of 26 years, as well as her 4 children and 2 grandchildren. She is a life-long lover of words and looks forward to reading and sharing at Red Tent Living.
Janet, I always get so excited when I see a Red Tent Living Post from you. I know it will be inspiring, truthful, beautiful and vulnerable as that is who you are. I love when you share how and when you wrestle and fight against evil who continues to want to mar your beauty and your recognition of the need for kindness and care. No doubt he wants to steal goodness from you and would come for you again when celebration is a time of goodness! Love you tons and thank you for sharing from your heart and the reminder that “The voice of God is always kind, always”.
Thank you Cindy,,,I am picturing your kind face as I read your words. Miss you!
Janet….I see you, hear you, struggle with you as you wrestle well to keep your ear tuned to the kindness of Jesus. Beautiful words, my friend! Love to you, Christine
Thank you Christine. It is so good to know we are not alone in the struggle. Love to you as well.
Janet…thank you for touching the hearts about something so real that many of us struggle with. I heard someone use the expression “mercy season” recently. It has really stuck in my spirit as I realize that we need to extend to ourselves the mercy that we would extend to others. I hope that blesses you, too. Blessings, Linda
Linda, thank you…yes to mercy, and yes it is so hard to extend to ourselves. May we keep struggling well.
I so get this! Been there…done that. Those moments of kindness seem so distance in the darkness of night yet so available from a God who is always kind. I love the contrast you gave for me and your readers. Breathe into the kindness…breathe out the goodness it carries. This is my motto for today. Thank you for the reminder.
I know you get this,,,and yet the reminder that I am not alone in it is powerful, I love the picture of breathing in the kindness and breathing out the goodness it carries…a good practice for me in those “dark” moments.
Sometimes the hardest thing we have to do is be kind to ourselves. God tells us to love one another and we must love ourselves, as well. I am guilty of not being kind to myself, of not being patient, of not forgiving my own mistakes. My shame, like yours, tells me I am alone in this. Your raw and honest sharing tells me I am NOT alone, and neither are you. God bless you!
Lonna thank you for your kind words. I’m so glad we can remind each other of truth. May you continue to find more and more kindness and grace for yourself.
You are not alone in this. For me, accusation slides in with a cruel twist of truth – I could have been more attentive/accurate/proactive – then it ripples out to include my inadequacies in all relationships. The snippet of truth makes it hard to identify. I don’t know if a wall-sized display in every room would be too much of a reminder that His voice is kind. Thank you for both your honesty in the struggle as well as leaning towards goodness.
Oh how true this is – that little bit of truth twisted in there makes it so hard to not take in. I am imagining my walls covered with those words…it’s a good picture! May you hear His kind voice speaking especially to those places where truth has been twisted so cruelly.
This has also been my life for the past few weeks. Always good to be reminded that the accusations are not the voice of God. Thank you.
So glad the reminder came at a time you needed it – you are not alone.
I am sad to hear your words of shame around what sounds so beautiful to me: a celebration of a daughter and her achievement. Abundance sounds like a beautiful backdrop for such a celebration. I hate that there is a voice of dissent convincing you that this was a failing, but it feels so honoring that you name that voice well as the words of a part of you that needs kindness.
You see so much, my friend! I love your naming of abundance and its beauty.,,and for grieving with me how something with so much goodness can by marred by shame. Thank you, Lindsay!
Anything but kind…always kind. Twice this week I have “flogged” myself for your about how I showed up as a midwife. My friend noticed, and observed I would be very kind to a sister midwife in the same situation. Curious, isn’t it?
Your vulnerability draws me in.
It is curious, and I love the simplicity of the struggle you name – anything but kind….always kind. I have also been the recipient of kindness from you…I’m glad your friend noticed the disparity between what you so generously offer others and what you offer yourself.
Ugh this is where I am this week. I started reading your article yesterday and circled back to finish it today. My voices are going nuts on me! I keep trying to hold them up and separate them from true and untrue, but I’m not always a good sorter like that. Anyway, your article was a good find for my soul. And the voices liked it too. Most of them, anyway. Bahahaha!
Wow, Janet, you said so much that I can relate to. I especially loved this:”My heart feels vulnerable, and I find myself wondering what others will do as they read the words of my inner critic’s rant – will your mind be echoing with similar rants, products of your own inner critic? My experience tells me I am not alone in this, shame tells me I am.” Kindness is what we need and I loved how you named that the voice of God is always king. Our head knows this but our heart falls short often. May your writing help me next time my critic tries to flatten me.