A Panic Attack, the Rule of the Last Inch and my Shrink’s Takeaways
I’m Still Standing by Elton John
“You'll wind up like the wreck you hide behind that mask you use” ~ Elton John
Not going to sugarcoat it, I had a panic attack last week. Why? Because of the looming self-imposed deadline for the public birthing of my baby, “The Dark Side of a Vocation” post. And yet I woke up on Tuesday morning, ready to enact Alexander Solzhenitsyn’s rule of the last inch. What’s that you say?
“The realm of the last inch. The job is almost finished, the goal almost attained, everything possible seems to have been achieved, every difficulty overcome - and yet the quality is just not there. The work needs more finish, perhaps further research. In that moment of weariness and self-satisfaction, the temptation is greatest to give up, not to strive for the peak of quality. That’s the realm of the last inch - here, the work is very, very complex, but it’s also particularly valuable because it’s done with the most perfect means. The rule of the last inch is simply this - not to leave it undone. And not to put it off - because otherwise your mind loses touch with that realm. And not to mind how much time you spend on it, because the aim is not to finish the job quickly, but to reach perfection.” ~ Alexander Solzhenitsyn.
There is irony in this quote because my inner perfectionist had put a noose around my neck when it came to putting my latest post to bed! I was conscious of the fact that there may well have been repeating themes in my post and was disconcerted by the flow. So the question was what to lop? This post felt like a bowl of spaghetti with every theme interwoven.
That last inch was a tormenting monkey on my back and if that’s hyperbolic, then the reality is it certainly induced anxiety and depressed me. I went haywire, I simply couldn’t regulate my emotions. So much so that I needed a crutch. And that crutch was food. Now bear in mind that my daily routine includes intermittent fasting, which means I don’t normally eat until five o’clock in the evening, six days a week. Yet on Tuesday last week, I broke my fast at ten o'clock in the morning. I stuck some ‘No Prawn Tempura’ Bites and Fries in the oven and white-knuckled the twenty minutes it took to heat my meal. And that was just the beginning of my descent into a munchy madness. I proceeded to eat my feelings for the next hour. Two thousand calories or so later and my belly started to groan.
But my anxiety levels were now ambient. My soul was in this piece so any lopping would only end up hurting the piece and, by extension, me. So after walking away and returning to my laptop on several occasions throughout the day, I decided to not change a thing. To serve my “bowl-of-spaghetti” post to you in all its organic rhythmic nature. At which point I decided to postpone publication by a day. A night’s sleep is my only form of emotion regulation.
The underlying issue is the quest to harmonise with my right-brain. I live my life in my left-brain. Mr Spock-like, you might say. In fact, I’ve had my Prefrontal Cortex trying to police the shit out of my Amygdala. I'm convinced that I struggle to learn new things these days because I’ve snubbed my right-brain. There is an inability to connect my feelings with experiences because of my left-brain’s high-handedness. Very little, therefore, is memorable. The dam has now burst in all consciousness on the basis of the work that I’m doing with my Shrink. I am now prone to irrational thoughts like fearing that my ceiling might cave in at any given moment or, given that my flat is on the ground floor in front of the forecourt on which people park, that one of them might floor it in their car and crash through my window. The question is can I master the skills to manage my right-brain.
Here’s a fly-on-the-wall exposé into the work that my Shrink and I are doing. Indeed he came in hot on the issue of my Panic Attack, straight out of the pulpit.
“You can't make deadline, is that what the fear is about? ‘I’m not going to make the deadline?’ What would happen if you didn’t make the deadline?” said the Shrink.
“The fear is that I’m going to upset the followers that I have and those that aren’t yet followers.” I said.
“What might happen, bear with me, what might happen if you upset the followers?” said the Shrink
“That they reject and unfollow,” I said.
“Now, slightly different tact, what does it say about you if you upset them?” said the Shrink.
“That I’m less than -, I’m not worthy, it comes back to the whole inadequacy thing,” I said.
“Yeah, not perfect, that place where part of you, as you described last week, is in the abyss,” said the Shrink.
“Yeah,” I said. “Okay, so two bits here, what else could it say about you, if you upset them,” said the Shrink.
“What else? I don’t know if there’s anything else that I want to say or proffer,” I said.
“You got -, this is where you got last week,” said the Shrink.
“Sure,” I said.
“This is where you got last week, there’s perfection in imperfection,” said the Shrink.
“Right, right, yeah,” I said as he reminded me of what I said.
“Hold on, you’re doing alright this is the belief, just let it ride, just let it ride, it’s okay, it’s okay. If they reject -, anything about the bum who can’t get things done,” said the Shrink.
“Yeah, definitely,” I said.
“What’s something more reasonable?” said the Shrink.
“You are enough,” I said.
“Where you got to last week, it’s not the end of the world,” said the Shrink.
“Yes,” I said.
“You see where I’m going? It’s really hard in that [moment] -, and then when the emotions are really high and then I wonder if you notice if it’s a pattern -, this is the other bit that I want to ask about there is that you cope, you cope, you break the fast. How do you end up feeling when you cope with that feeling, so you cope with that feeling -, it’s in there -, you might be in the abyss when that’s going on. ‘Oh you’re such a failure, inadequate -, you're just a bum who can’t get anything done!’ You might say something like that, the feelings, anxiety, there would be anxiety, you’ve gone in there, sometimes, I won’t be able to manage the world around me, so of course, you start to feel anxious. So when you cope with those feelings, by breaking the fast, over the long run, how do you end up feeling?” said the Shrink.
“Depressed that I lack the discipline to ride the anxiety out,” I said.
“Yeah, do all mistakes need to be punished?” said the Shrink.
I sigh. “Do all mistakes -, depends what the crime is. Erm, if it’s something like Murder or Rape, yes. If it’s a blog post, no.”
“It’s that method that we’ve got in here and don’t get me wrong, I understand the emotions are high like this and this is so meaningful for you. I’m going to talk about it now like it’s simple but it’s not, it’s hard to get yourself down from there and climb down from there in a way that makes you feel good in the long run and we’ve gone about some of the thinking stuff there, which is, hold on, you’re doing alright, there’s perfection in imperfection, hold on, down, down, down, deep breath,” said the Shrink. He exhales in demonstration. “Okay, this is actually okay, you’re doing alright, let this ride, hold on, this isn’t the end of the world, this isn’t the end of the world, let’s just take it down, deep breath,” said the Shrink. He exhales in demonstration.
My Panic Attack was a fat juicy steak to my Shrink. He ate it up with a gusto and a love for his profession, before dissecting my experience like a Surgeon. To hear replays of impressions I gave him of myself from last week’s Psychology session such as, “You're just a bum who can’t get anything done!” was jarring yet I know it was not to berate or belittle me but to remind me that I feel how I feel and that’s okay - this is compassionate therapy. The irony is as good as compassion is for me, repressively speaking, it is a curse word that is incongruous with my upbringing. The idea that I can indulge my feelings, rather than stiff-upper lip my way through them, is going to take some getting used to. Yet I am steadfastly creeping towards a truer, authentic sense of self.
I was five days deep into writing this newsletter when my Shrink gatecrashed the party to affirm my conviction. He said “I wonder how it would be to name that, it [Substack] sounds like that sort of a forum. You’re revealing so much of yourself anyway, I think. Just name that process [my panic attack]. My guess is you won’t be alone. People will be able to identify with that all over the place, if they’re putting themselves out there, in that way, my guess is that, at the least, people will be able to identify with. Yeah just chuck it out there, that’s you as well - vulnerable you.” So here I am, regardless of any internalised doubts, lopping none of it - enjoy!
Feel free to voice your opinions of this post in the Comments, they are always appreciated.
Fun video. Today I turned 64. The Beatles have been singing all day. I can relate to so much of this piece. I grew up in a super-critical home and inherited that trait to a T. However, with my creativity, flow, and execution, I've found that criticism and expectations of perfection do me no favors, and get me stuck in rebellion and distraction. I honestly don't feel you will have any readers attacking you if you don't deliver when you've said you would deliver. It's not like you're reporting on the stupidity of politics for which there is always something easy to dig up and express about that. You are transforming your life, figuring out what makes you tick, and learning to tick more peacefully. That is a great service to do in one's own life. It's not easy, which is why most people never do it. But you are brave enough to dig down deep to find it, fix it, heal it, and express the process freely to be of help to others if that's a possibility. I can relate to that.
I will just say this and I'd be interested in your opinion as well as your shrinks opinion on this - Men's brains have the communications sector and emotions sector on different floors and opposite sides of the building. Generally, women's brains have the emotions sector next door to the communications sector. The sector; could be a room, control center, or office.
I can't imagine how difficult it is in the body to know it won't get any nourishment until 5 pm. I understand intermittent fasting is good for all sorts of reasons but it seems to me that waiting till 5 pm is torturous for the body. Almost like, yeah, I know we've got to take a dump but no, I'll wait till 5. HUH?????? I wish you could be gentle and loving to yourself. It's taken me 64 years to learn how to do it! We all learn what we need to learn, sooner or later. I personally think you're doing great!
Happy Birthday, Journalisa! Or a belated Happy Birthday depending on the Time Zone and when you see this message!
Whether male or female, I would add a further sector to your model. The Ego sector has elbowed its way in, in between the Emotions sector and Communication sector. Which means Ego gives us the means to filter our emotions before we communicate. Women are more inclined to see their ego and indulge their vulnerability anyway. Whereas men see their ego and indulge their inner bullshitter to keep up appearances. Why? Because men have been conditioned to see vulnerability as weakness. I am in the process of reprogramming that particular line of computer code, handed down to me in my formative years, to say vulnerability equals strength. Consciously speaking, I get it though I’m not sure if I’ll live to see the day when my heart feels it!
By and large, waiting until five to eat isn’t torturous at all, provided I have other activities with which to occupy myself. It is an act of discipline which is an act of self-care. I accept this is not for everybody but it allows me to work on my distress tolerance, or delayed gratification, which translates to all aspects of my life.
My Shrink will catch your comment at some point soon so I'm sure he will reveal his perspective within the next week!