Just Because

When we get curious about our minds,  we sway back and forth between philosopy and technique, mind and body, validation and exploration, and in doing so, we uncover many personal truths and insights that help us move forward to the better place we are seeking. In my chair, I listen well and deeply to the pain, the thoughts, the confusion of mind and heart.  I listen to human experiences -  universal, yet unique too.  And somehow, usually,  healing flows, through all the doubts and through life being life and thoughts and feelings being what they humanly are.  And mostly in the not-alone-ness of the process we start to find ourselves, and find clarity.  And so when I came across this poem, by Phil Maher I was reminded once again of the power of thought, of how we often believe our innocent human minds in any give moment and  that what flows from there, depending on how we tend to it, can pull us down, or lift us gently above the turbulence, without ever having to do a thing.  Just because being open can point us there.


Just Because

Just because I know something
Doesn't mean I have to say it
Just because I'm right 
Doesn't mean I need to show you that you are wrong.

Just because I know a negative truth about someone
Doesn't mean I don't have to be kind to them
Just because I'm attracted to someone
Doesn't mean they are going to like me

Just because I believe something strongly
Doesn't mean I have to make others believe too
Just because I see a lot of evil in the world
Doesn't mean there isn't a lot of good too

Just because I can't see God's plan
Doesn't mean He doesn't have one
Just because I'm tired of waiting, that it's taking too much time, or won't happen
Doesn't mean I'm supposed to do something to make it happen.

Just because I'm strong or good at something
Doesn't mean I can take advantage of others.

Just because I think something is true
Doesn't mean it is true.                             

-Phil Maher (February 2016)

What is a Miracle?

"Do you know what a miracle is?"  my friend Sarah asked me recently.  "What?" I humor her.
"A change in perspective."

So sometimes I think this is just not possible.  We are who we are.  We think what we think.  We know what we know:  "If he loved me he would put his socks in the laudry basket"  "If she is in a bad mood I can't deal with her" " I can't quit smoking, drinking, bingeing"  "I'll never find love"  "I don't really matter"  "I am limited"  "I can't stand my job, my life, my in-laws"  "This work is too hard for me" "I don't have time or money or patience or luck"  "S/he is awful"  My parents are impossible" "The other shoe is going drop.  And right on me" "We have to agree or I can't deal with him."  "Nobody really cares"  "If s/he does not change how s/he acts then I'm stuck/doomed"  "This will never work"  "There is no other way to work it out"  "S/he is so self-centered" "There is no hope" 

And we are so sure of it.

Often in my office, as we are unpacking the thought behind the thought and looking at the nature of thought and the different ways of looking at and living life, at both the very personal and the univeral wisdom about humanity and relationships, and when we are looking toward both insight and useful tools and strategies,  we hit upon an idea that seems to offer up some hope and some help:

We often live life from the outside in.  We focus on what needs to be changed in others and in the world, instead of how we look at things, at how we think and what we believe. This, of course, leaves us at the mercy of others and of the outside world.

 Amazingly, and often, when we take a closer look at our thoughts in the moment and how they influence our thinking, how we feel our thinking, we can often have a new experience of life, people, circumstances, of ourselves.

It seems impossible to some.  And preposperous to others - after all, we rely on our thinging, but what if much of our thought in the moment is not always reliable?  What if we humanly, innocently have thoughts that run through us and influence us that are maybe not true, or not the only truth.  What if how we view our thoughts and work with our perspectives could change our life?

At the intersection of personal emotional pain, shared and universal human wisdom and life expieriece and "coping mechanisms,"  we have the choice to learn to see through our thoughts and to examine our perspectives,  Often when we do so, we  come to have a different and much better
experience of life and people.  One that we never imagined to be possible.

The Last Time Was The Last Time

You've heard the sayings that go along with this one.  If you always do what you always did, you'll always get what you always got." And "Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and again and expecting a different result."

So I recently heard this: We know that our thinking is going in the right direction when we are met again with temptation - to ruminate again, to use our drug of choice again, to act inappropriately, to lose it, to give in, to yes when we should say no, or no when we should say yes - and  instead of doing whatever it is that we do that keeps us going in circles we do something different.  Instead of saying to ourselves "Okay, this time will be the last time," we say "No, the last time was the last time."

It's not always so easy.  We can't always pull it off. We can't always say this to ourselves, even when we know it's probably for the best, for our best, for everyone's best.  Especially when we are hurting, or feeling low about ourselves, or are angry with someone we love and want to trust. Or when we are afraid of feeling too much, too intensely.

But sometimes we can.   We can know that whatever the urge is to do whatever it is that keeps us going in circles will pass.  That we can change directions, even it seems like it's only a small, incremental, tiny pivot point, it still counts.  We can do one thing differently.  We can say something different to ourselves. One thing at a time counts. Next right small thing.  Because the small things add up.  And even if they didn't, they make a tiny mark in the right direction. 

And even if we are hurting, or frustrated or feeling hopeless, it's amazing how one small thought can make such a big impact toward getting us over the mountain to a better feeling and a better life.

The Year in Review (sort of) and Hope Forward Again

As the year turns again, I've been thinking a lot about hope and about resiliency and about resources.
I've been thinking about complicated grief, complicated life choices, sacrifice, joy and meaning.

Lots of folks this year in my office have talked out and through difficult relationship issues.  Some have stayed in the relationship and tried to climb through the mountain of anger and sadness and do what needs to be done to cultivate a culture of mutual respect and to bring back the love and seen surprising good results. Others have decided to move on and forward.

Some folks have keep at the good - but not always easy - work of understanding more about their relationship with themselves.  Some have dug into the past to see how it effects the present and could shape the future.  Others have been talking about trauma, frustration, grief, addiction and obsession.

Some situations take time to sort through, others give way to clarity sooner.  The questions of who we are, what we need, what we are willing to sacrifice for, compromise on and invest in continue to be important and discussion worthy.

A lot of folks tell me that there is peace of mind and meaning that comes from the search.  That at least the looking serves the purpose of honoring one's self, spirit and psyche.  That even when things are not abundantly clear, there is goodness in knowing the effort is being made to find out more.

And, a lot of folks ask me "What if I try (to heal, figure it out, do this method or that) and it doesn't work? What if there is nothing left to try?"  So this is where hope can be painful.  But I think that there are always new places to explore, and there are old places to explore again in new ways. 

Sometimes, we are even afraid of better.  Someone once asked me "Why does getting better - feeling better even - seem to make me feel worse sometimes?"  And I think that maybe it's because the familiar is so comforting and we think that the fear and the worry will keep us from something really bad happening.  That the things that kept us feeling safe no longer work really as we move forward in life is a daunting idea sometimes.

But I land on hope anyway.  I think that when we are sorting it all through -   be it quickly or slowly - that if we have our sources of nourishment in place, we can keep at it and it pays off.  We just have to take good care of our sources: our supportive relationships, our spiritual life, our service to others, our safe places to talk, our quiet time, our genuine pleasures - the places where we get uncomplicated good feelings -  and then we can keep on keeping on as the rest unfolds.

"I Only Knew Me"

My friend D recently decided to put her three year old in summer camp.  A sweet and short few hours a day at a day camp would give her daughter some social time and her a breather on a few summer mornings.  It was good camp and the only glitch was that her little girl would probably not know anyone else at the beginning.  D was a little concerned about how that would go but decided to try it anyway.

When she picked her up the first day, her daughter ran happily over to her.  D asked her "So, how'd it go?" "Fine!" said her daughter.  D asks her "Did you know anyone?"  Without a pause, and with a big smile and shrug, her daughter said "I only knew myself."

So D tells me that she this amazed her.  And together we marveled at her daughter's words and what they meant.

I'm sure we imbued a little.... but perhaps not too much - and anyway-why not get from it what we did, which was this:
How much better life can be and is when we are comfortable in our own skin, and when our relationship with our self is in order.
What a good feeling to feel like we know ourselves and that that is enough sometimes.  And that what we know is good.  Even and especially (for us grown ups)  if that includes knowing our shortcomings, our fears and our needs.  And how relieving if we know that even when our needs may not always be met, or met deeply enough, that we can deal well with new situations, difficult people, difficult relationships, difficult feelings and still feel safe.

We don't have to always have the answers but being open and interested in the search can bring  peace to our inner world and ease our path in our outer world.

Night Panic

"If I'm feeling hysterical, its usually historical." ~ anonymous

Someone once told me that nothing good happens after 10:00 at night. Of course I know that this is not a universal truth, but for anyone who is prone to worry or panic, or sleep disturbance, late night can bring anxiety to new heights.

At night, paranoid thoughts can increase, self attack intensifies, and what may have seemed like forgivable mistakes can become relentless self doubt. A friend of mine, who has some humor about her night panic, tells me that some nights she is convinced that there are goblins in her hallway, monsters under her bed and aliens on her roof. Her boss is waiting to fire her; her doctor is waiting to give her dire news and her husband has three secret other wives.

She knows its her brain on rev, but still and all she worries. And the worry is real, and it is painful. She worries about her kids, her marriage and her financial situation. Some nights the worry turns into obsession and the obsession turns into sleeplessness, and the sleeplessness turns into more self attack.

Physical and mental exhaustion, hormones, biorhythms, brain chemistry can all contribute. So can an unresolved bad feeling in a relationship. So can the darkness itself. And one's personal history, even if the connection is not readily apparent. Somehow, late at night the mind can start conjuring up a parade of bad thoughts. An attack of "what ifs" or a barrage of "awfulizing" can take over rational thought. When the anxiety gets really bad, it can leave you longing for relief, but believing that none is really possible. If only there were an ice pack for the brain.

So what helps?

Well, I think that sufferers of night panic have a few choices, and any one or a combo can bring relief at one time or another. And first things first is being willing to believe that relief is both okay and possible. If you are stuck in the thought, however subtle, that the worry is actually keeping you safe from anything bad actually happening, you may need to address this belief first. Planning, consulting and considering can bring good results but when we are stuck in panic, obsession and rumination the pain can be intense and can block the way to solving real issues or getting relief from relentless worry.

Here are a few ideas, in no particular order, that can help with night panic:

~Listen for the thoughts under the panic. Write them down in a stream of consciousness, no holding back fashion. Look over them the next day and see which thoughts are fueling the feelings. Come up with a few good reassuring answers to the panic thoughts (even if you don't believe them 100%.)

~Come up with a few reassuring mantras to say to yourself such as "this too shall pass," "the worry is always worse than the actual event," or "even if something bad happens I can find support and get help."

~Talk back to the panic. Tell it to leave you alone, get lost, that feelings are not always facts and you will not let its panic messages ruin your night.

~Go to bed earlier. I don't mean to sound glib, but for night worriers, turning in earlier can help.

~Distract your mind. Read. Watch TV. Listen to music.

~Take a personal history. Think back to what bed time was like when you were a child. What are your memories? What were your parents doing late at night? Where were they? Did they tend toward calm or toward anxious? What feelings come up? Consider connecting the dots between your experiences now and the experiences that may have shaped you as a child.

~Make a list of everything and anything that is on your mind from things to do - to things that are worrying you. Leave nothing out. Then put the list away to review during the day.

~Make a gratitude list, a victory list, a list of things that are good and right with you, and in your world.

~Follow the feeling and see where it takes you. Don't fight it, study it. Get curious and wonder if it is new or old, familiar or strange. What or who does it remind you of? Might it have a benefit, a message, or a purpose?

~Talk, talk and talk some more. Talk about the things that may be making you feel angry, frustrated or helpless.

In the back and forth between accepting and feeling your feelings and actively using cognitive or behavioral techniques to help bring on relief, consider that there may be many good roads to relief. Often times there is meaning in our experiences, and when we are willing to tap into what that meaning is, we can end up with a richer life experience and better nights.

Suffering and Loveliness

"When I am willing to question and therefore feel whatever is there - terror, hatred, anger - with curiosity, the feelings relax, because they are met with kindness and openness instead of resistance and rejection. To the degree that my feelings are familiar, that I've felt them before in similar situations - feeling left out, rejected, abandoned - the willingness to allow them offers a completely different scenario than the situation in which they first developed. ~ Geneen Roth, Women, Food and G-d

I've had my head in Geneen Roth's newest book, Women, Food and G-d. And its good.

Among the gems in her latest book, Roth talks about reteaching ourselves loveliness. She talks about acceptance, letting go of self - hate, being willing to feel our feelings, living in the moment and using our compulsions to teach us about who we are, who we want to be and what we need.

Okay, the ideas are not altogether new. The 12 step folks have been talking about these for decades, and so have meditation masters, religious leaders and therapists. Sometimes its the same messages with different wrappings. But the messages are aways good. And Roth's packaging is gentle and easy, and often poignant. That does not mean that living the message is easy, but that's the good news, actually. It means there is possibility.

The messages stretch beyond food and eating disorders, they flow into marriage issues, career, grief, finding love, personal growth. One big obstacle to progress is the negative voice. Roth (and others) call it The Voice. The 12 step folks call it "the disease." Some call it your negative tapes, your inner critic. Your repetitions. Whatever you call it, its the voice that says you can't be helped, that there is no hope, that its all bunk. That you are awful, or that those who are frustrating you are awful. Its the voice of status quo that keeps you doing what you've always done. Its the voice behind the idea that familiarity is comfortable (and it is sometimes!), but not when it is driven by fear, or by the not quite clear notion that in order to stay safe, you will have to do what you always did.

Many of us find that what worked to protect us most of our lives often stops working for us once we are in relationships, or trying to advance in careers, or personal growth as we age along. When we slow down and study things a bit, we can see inside ourselves, our relationships and let things breath and change.

Here in my office, where feelings are welcomed "with tenderness," as Roth says, things can get sorted through, and life can get better.

I often work with couples and individuals who are suffering. Some from obsessions, from anxiety, rumination, or anger. Some from frustrating relationships, fear or grief. People often find that progress and relief come from talking it out, from letting your fear flag fly, letting your anger breath, and then uncoil.

I really like Roth's idea of reteaching ourselves loveliness. Its such a soft approach to all the hard feelings we endure when things are not working quite the way we'd like them to. It is lovely to feel and not be swept away from it. It is lovely to feel and not necessarily act, or destroy or lash out. Or in. It takes practice, of course. But Roth says that we are very good at practicing suffering, that we can redirect ourselves to practicing kindness, to ourselves and to others.

I am, of course, inclined to agree.

Is Fat a Feeling?

There's a big debate over this one in my office. And in recovery rooms. And in the all the good books on eating disorders, food, weight, body and self.

Sometimes, fat is fat.

You just feel it. Bloated. Big. Uncomfortable in your own skin. Sometimes, the numbers on the scale can be the exactly the same, and one hour you feel fat, and the next, not.

Sometimes it's hormones, sometimes it's heat, humidity, too much salt. In the eyes of others, you look the same way you looked yesterday.

And sometimes feeling fat, awful as it feels, is better than feeling how you are really feeling.

Fat is often a code word for all other feelings. Especially anger, regret, frustration, fear, hurt, sadness.

If we are brave, we can unpack the fat. We can ask ourselves:

"What else is going on with me today? Besides that I feel fat."

"If I am angry, with whom?"

"If I am afraid, of what?"

"If I feel regret, for what?"

You get the idea. Of course, that's the easy part. And that's not easy. From there its about taking good care of yourself through all that hurt.

Sometimes, feeling fat is code for feeling too big in other areas. Too noticeable, too important to people who you may love, who may love you, but who might demand or expect a lot.

And sometimes, feeling fat seems better than feeling stupid. Or less than. Or wrong. Or flawed.

Maybe, unconsciously, we think that whatever character traits, defects, mistakes we've made are so bad, so unacceptable, unbearable, unforgivable, that feeling fat, as bad as it feels, is better than taking a look at ourselves, as gently as possible, making amends, and moving on.

Whatever it means, in any given moment, it does help to tend to the feeling. I think we fare so much better when we do.

Head Hits the Ground...Finally! (Yoga, 12 Step and Little by Little)

A friend of mine told me recently that finally, thankfully, amazingly, her head has hit the ground. She has been practicing Yoga for years now, and while she knows that she is supposed to keep her eyes focused on her own mat, or closed even, for that matter, she can't help but notice that she is the only one in the class who cannot get her head down to the ground when the position calls for it. It just won't go. She has been inching closer, bit by bit, for years, but to no avail. Until this week.

Week after week she would keep on keeping on. She would show up for class. She would follow the instructor's lead. My friend lives at the intersection of Yoga and 12-step. In fact, all of her 12-step mantras would slip through her head like the ticker tape in time Time Square while she was on the mat.

Do the next right thing...

Don't compare your insides to everyone else's outsides

Fear is false evidence appearing real

Little efforts add up to big results

Let go and let G-d

Pay attention to your weight, you will lose your recovery, Pay attention to your recovery, you will lose your weight

Keep coming back

One day at a time (one class at a time, one stretch at a time, one second at a time)

It works if you work it

Easy does it....

My serenity is directly proportional to my surrender....

In G-d's time....

We are marveling together at how such a small victory is actually such a big one. How her head hitting the ground means to her that she has endured many months of difficult feelings. Many months of her old mantras. The "you can'ts" The "Just forget its." The "who do you think you are kiddings." And of course, the "It must be you, because everyone else seems okay, able to do it, not really having these feelings."

They are painful, our old mantras. Some folks call it The Voice. Or My Disease. Or My Eating Disorder. Whatever it is, sometimes, its like lightening during the day. It talks these messages across our minds, bringing us down without us even knowing what's hitting us. Until we feel the thunder of our bad feelings, lousy mood or dark cloud of depression or despair.

There are new words, new mantras to be learned. To be repeated over and over and over again until we can take on and take in the good. Until we learn to appreciate and credit ourselves for the victories and the achievements and the staying power it takes just to get through a day sometimes, when we are in emotional bad shape.

Keep stretching, I think. Your head will eventually hit the ground.

Employing Love: for Better or for Worse

"At the top of the bridge, with the stars shining above the harbor, I look to the north and wish again that there were two lives apportioned to every man and woman. Behind me the city of Charleston simmers in the cold elixirs of its own incalculable beauty and before me my wife and children are waiting for me to arrive home. " ~ Pat Conroy, The Prince of Tides

My friend Fran likes to tell me that there are only three stories in the world, but that they can be told over and over and over again, a million different ways. Her words ring true in my ears every day when I unlock my office door and sit down in my therapist's chair to hear the stories of the people who come to sit on the couch and talk. I hear the pain, the hope, the conflict, the frustration. I hear about excitement and desire and so much more. A million stories.

Over the years, I have heard many love stories. I have heard stories of loving more then one person, of loyalty, fear, infidelity. Of longing, of having to choose between two loves, or two lovers. I hear about extra marital sex, with all kinds of motives, as a message to one's spouse, an act of desperation, frustration, impulse. I hear about broken love, broken trust, marriages that somehow break down, or break apart.

I hear about the good stuff too. Raising children, building lives together, companionship, good sex, company, back rubs at dawn.

These days when we turn on the news someone, somewhere is cheating on their spouse, has fallen in love, then out again, or cannot say no their own natural desires, lusts or hungers. How it all plays out is what we study here in the therapy rooms. That, and why one's own unique version of the story unfolds as it does. How this effects selves, spouses, and children, integrity, mood and fulfillment.

There are as many answers as there are stories sometimes, I think. Though I know that damage that gets done when someone goes outside of a relationship often seems irreparable. I have seen healing. I have seen lots of interesting and creative solutions. The stats on infidelity are high and fascinating almost, if it were not so painful. We watch public figures over and over again get caught, repent, explain, or sometimes, stand up to their decisions. Often the commentary centers around the morality, religiosity, the measuring stick of black or white, right or wrong, or sometimes, now, the addictive nature of desire.

In here though, in my office, we take the deeper path. We look at emotional communication, currency and callings, not just behavior. We look at motivations, conscious and unconscious. We give a nod to normal physiology. There really isn't any other way. We study what the story is, and how it developed, what the end could be, might be, is desired to be. We tend to all the anger and hurt, of course, and all the fall out, but we study with grace rather than with punishment, even though frustration can run high. Nobody seems to want excuses, I hear that a lot too. Or shirking responsibility for actions taken or feelings felt. But we seem to expect love to be both a reason and ruler. I wonder if we are expecting too much from one feeling. Love seems to get employed for many uses, as does desire and frustration. All powerful emotions, and difficult to reign in at their most potent.

I have yet to hear a story that did not make sense. Not when I've heard it from beginning to end. I have yet to see punishment win out in the end, over rebuilding. It does take time, though. There is no way to put a rush order on emotional healing. But there are ways to live more peacefully with what is possible and what is not.

Toxic Levels of Self Hate ... especially for my eating disorder readers

Once upon a time (okay, I cannot think of a better opener), a person was walking down a street in the rain. The world was sweet and wet and dripping with possibilities. Minding her own business, gazing around at big trees, lush and hovering, barely aware of the sharp chill in the air, she walked without much thought. Her breath could be seen at each exhale.

Walking with intention, but not necessarily with direction on the smooth sidewalk, the person happened to look across the street and notice, there in the gutter, almost parallel to the curb, a rush of rainwater pouring and pooling around her, a child, small and shivering, curled up, fetal, breathing heavily in the damp air, wide eyes, focusing on nothing.

Our person looks, startled for a moment, and then, decidedly, walks over to the small child and stares down and without much thought swings a heavy, boot laden foot back and then forth, kicking the child hard in the stomach. And then turns and walks on.

This is how we treat ourselves sometimes. We do not walk over to the child, crouch down, offer a hand up, offer help, or shelter or sit down even, next to this child and keep her company in her pain. We kick. And we kick hard.

In my office I hear a lot about toxic levels of self hate. I hear it more from my eating disorder clients than most, though. I hear all about how perfectionism is the key to order, to stress relief, to feeling well, potent, effective and in control. I hear about how mistakes are not allowed, how angry people must be right, how what others say, think and feel about us must be what is true. I hear about how yelling around us results in yelling inside us and how instead of screaming we cut and starve, stuff and vomit. We kick ourselves hard, and without much thought.

There are, I think, a thousand possible causes of eating disorders. And there are a thousand cures. There is no one explanation, and no one path to recovery. We can rage at culture, analyze family dynamics, hang our hopes on genetic markers. Each story is uniquely crafted by biology, experience, environment and development. But this much I know to be true, each person that I have ever worked with who has an eating disorder suffers from toxic levels of self hate. Sometimes its obvious, and sometimes its swimming around like a shark just below the surface.

Somehow we think that if we just kick hard enough, we will not have to feel or face the pain. We will not have to sit down in the rain and listen to the small child inside us. We will not have to help her focus, help her up, help her cross the street.

It works two ways, this kicking. I will kick that child because it is better to kick her than to kick who I am really angry with. Or I will kick that child because she must be the cause of all this pain. If I kick her, she will get up and get moving. Or she will forget that she is lying there wet and stuck. Either way, she gets kicked. Over and over and over again.

What does it take to stop kicking the child? To put down the scissors, the food? To feed that child instead of starve her? To soothe her instead of slice at her? We must, at the very least, be willing to learn what that hate is all about. And we must try to imagine what life would be like without it.

That's a start, I think, for anyone who is still kicking.

Do Men Know Why They Cheat?

“It takes two to speak truth, one to speak and another to hear.” ~ Henry David Thoreau

Yes, I know...the next post (or at least a future one) will be "Do Women Know Why They Cheat." I am just starting with the men because...well I just am.

On a regular basis I sit with couples who are facing the aftermath of infidelity. I listen to the hurt partner's pain, frustration, confusion, anger and shock. I listen to the acting partner's pain, frustration, confusion, anger and shock. Everyone has their feelings. But more often than not, neither one really knows too much about what happened. Or why.

I hear about all the sleuthing that the hurt partner has done, is doing. I hear all about looking at cell phone bills, text messages, emails, web site histories. I hear about the demand for the whole truth, the lying, the fudging, the "I don't want to her hurt hers." And I hear about the hurt partner's insistence (often, but not always) on wanting to know every down and dirty detail. "How many times?" "What position?" "Did you hold her afterwards?" "Was she better than me?" "Do you love her?" "Was it just sex?" "What was she wearing?" "Who initiated?" "What did you eat?" "Why that bar?" "Was it during work, or only after hours?" On and on.

And the tedium of constant reminders on TV, in casual conversations, on certain days of the week or dates of the month. Reminders everywhere like little knives shooting through the hurt partner's heart. And the answers, all the reminders, are like little jack hammers sending up pieces of concrete into the face of the relationship. And the asking itself, by the hurt spouse, causing the acting partner all kinds of guilt and shame, and sometimes, annoyance and agitation. Further damage, "She is constantly nagging me now. She won't leave me alone." "I know I hurt her, but I can't stand the bombarding."

And then, underneath the pain, the thick layer of real confusion. Why did this happen. Why did I really do this? Who's fault is it? Am I a cheat? A liar? A creep? Do I love her? Am I doing what my father did? Is it her fault? Why can't I stop myself? Am I allowed to be angry with my wife/partner?

Many men do not really know why they go outside their marriage for sex or love. There are the old guesses of course....the looking to feel more potent, connected, desired, tended to. The physical drive for more interesting, better, or more exciting sex. Or perhaps the need to send a message to their wife/partner or even themselves, that they are suffering in some way and have no way to say it. They have no words to use to name the problem. Or feel they have no ears to speak them to. A potent combo of feelings and drives.

I think also, that we humans find ourselves wanting to hurt or punish those who frustrate us or hurt us. We don't want to be told what we can or can't do, and we look for ways to feel powerful, stable and satisfied. When we send messages through actions rather than words, things can get very messy indeed.

Sometimes, its just not easy, or even possible for a man to let his wife know that he is struggling with their sex life. Or their home life. Or the feelings he gets from her. Or his own unidentified but nagging restlessness. Perhaps he really does not want to hurt her. Perhaps on some level, he does. Perhaps he thinks she will get offended, or critical, demeaning or defensive if he tells her his thougths about their relationship, his needs, his fears. Maybe he himself does not really know much, except that he is looking, wanting. Perhaps his male wired drives are fueling his pain and frustration. Perhaps he believes he is out of control with his desires. Or that he has no options. Or that he will not be heard, or helped. He may see on the horizon, only deprivation and ridicule for his thoughts, not understanding, interest and willingness to find new paths. Maybe he feels entitled, but uncertain underneath, about this too.

I often wonder what would happen if couples would talk about wanting to cheat before they actually did. I see in my office that there is abundant hope when this happens. Yes, it can be painful. Yes, it takes time. Yes it means sorting through things a bit. But when there is dialogue there is hope. When there is insight there can be healing. And there can be better sex and more love too, for everyone.

Many couples actually report better sex after an affair. For some women the wake up call rings loud and a woman's instinct to compete and fight for her man kicks in. She is mad, hurt, betrayed, but she is not down and out.

Of course the pain runs deep for many. But I think we have choices, both before and after the act and the hurt. Couples can rebuild and recoup. Sometimes it seems like no amount of understanding or apology will good enough. That past wounds will always keep popping back open and poisoning the present. These moments can be hard to negotiate for everyone. They can bring up more bad feelings of inadequacy, failure, rejection, hate, shame and frustration....the worst of the worst for many folks. Tolerating these feelings and staying the course can sometimes seem impossible. Not repeating past mistakes can seem un-doable. The temptation to withhold current praise, love, appreciation for the good can loom large, and giving good feelings of acceptance, tolerance, love and hope can seem overly generous, risky, and undeserved.

But when men are willing to take a look inside themselves and the relationship, and women are willing to hang in there and let them, help them, (gulp) reward them even...then everyone benefits. On some level, perhaps, it is better to stay married than to stay angry. It is better to live without trust for a while than to live without the person that you love. It depends on the situation, of course, but I am a believer in talking. And I am a believer curiosity, in studying the situation and learning about what happened and why.

There are always choices. The right dialogue can bring relief and grace and new possibilities. I see it all the time.

Don't Ask, Don't Tell (yourself): On Honesty

"If a thousand old beliefs were ruined in our march to truth we must still march on." ~Stopford Brooke

"I tore myself away from the safe comfort of certainties through my love for truth - and truth rewarded me." ~Simone de Beauvoir

I couldn't decide. So I've brought you both quotes. Here is what I have been thinking about lately: Being honest in therapy. Being honest with one's self. Being honest with G-d. And of course, for all the couples I work with, the pros and cons of being honest with each other. Sometimes honesty hurts, or we think it will. And since, I think, honesty does not always come easy or fast, we need to be honest about that too. About the fact that we don't always know what the truth is.

That there are different kinds of honesty. There are the facts, reality, as it is. And then of course, reality as it seems. There is emotional honesty, which sometimes, often times, actually, takes a bit of psychic exploratory surgery to discover what feeling(s) is really present. And there is very real and understandable problem of just not knowing what the truth really is.

So I am thinking about all the layers of the onion. That here, in the therapy room, is the place to say everything. To get curious, to be willing and brave and interested in the truth. Even if the truth is subjective. I suppose we could debate (and many have and do) the use of knowledge of the truth...does it really set you free? Does it really cure your addiction, relieve your rage, send the right message to your spouse? Release you from the trappings of your past? Does knowing how you were shaped and influenced, what effected you, how and why, really lead to progress and better things for your present and future?

Does unpacking your memories, facing your fears, fessing up to angers, resentments and desires really have a benefit? What if you could really get good glimpse of your unconscious? Would it matter? What if you could give yourself permission to really get to know yourself, flaws and assets, bumps and bruises, urges, wishes and secret longings?

The truth? I don't really know? How can we know this? But I think, honestly, from the therapist's chair, that honesty, at least in here, in my office, pays life quality dividends big time.

I am not talking about confession. I welcome it if it helps, but its okay with me if you are drinking a pint on Friday night after your spouse has gone to sleep, and you just can't seem to tell your sponsor. Or you really are spending a lot of time with the guy in the office two doors down, and you promised your partner you don't talk to him anymore. Or that you really watch Oprah when you work from home.

You can confess all you want in my office, I am listening. It helps to unload it, and this is a good place to do it. But. And. What next. Therapists don't have collars. We have mirrors. If you' d like. And hopefully a sense of when and how to use them.

Most people come in to get relief, to understand some things about themselves, about life, about their past, how it affects their present and future. How to have better. Better love, sex, money, serenity, sense of self, direction, self value, connections. Better.

Honesty, honestly, (makes me want to sing that old Billy Joel song), is sometimes a slow riser, like the sun, but I do think it brings light, to dark days, dark moods, dark lives. Even if the ideas are just guesses sometimes, even if we have to live with, or settle for, workable true enough ideas or insights. Even if, and since, in therapy-speak, not knowing the truth, or wanting to know the truth is a defense, and we respect and even protect defenses, unless and until they are no longer needed.

Its just some food for thought, that being open to learning about your own truths can go a long way, in here, out there. Its not always easy, so I tend to go lightly sometimes, but I believe its worth the go. That there is a benefit, and that honesty's close friends forgiveness, engagement, and relief and acceptance are always close by.

Meditation ~ Spontaneous Thoughts ~ Words

Sigh. I am the biggest fan of words. I study them, I help people speak them. I encourage the free flowing spontaneous uninterrupted stream of them. At least in my office, to my private, trained analytic understanding ear.

I put words together on paper, on the computer, in my mind. I marvel at the impact they can have, to hurt, to heal, to destroy, to bring together. I consciously come up with words, and I listen attentively to the random thoughts, chains of words, single words, ideas, impressions, feelings, that are not quite words, but could be, or would be, if they are allowed. My own, and those of my clients, my family, my friends.

I study word choices, meanings, cadence, tone, emphasis and volume. I unpack sarcasm (hostility, usually, or anxiety), and humor, and silence. The vacuum where words would be if they were not jammed up somewhere. And sometimes I take it all less seriously, and just let words glide around like thin stream water, or float like tiny bubbles, up and away. Sometimes, I hang on them, and wonder about them a while, especially if they may contain clues to someone's relief or pain.

I have witnessed words setting people free, dissolving pain, releasing anger, fear, frustration, worry. I have see words bring on comfort, relief, joy and rest. I have subscribed to Dr. Freud's idea of the Talking Cure. Which, I would really think is more of a listening cure, because I think that even though talking does help, we usually find it most helpful when someone is listening to what we are talking about. Maybe then, we should call it the being heard cure. Or the being understood cure. Or the being listened to well and gently cure."

So why the sigh? Well, this. With all my dedication to words, to finding them and saying them, or writing them. Or praying with them. And all my belief in their power, especially their curative uses. I also believe in quiet. I believe that we sometimes need a break (and a brake) from the words.

I think there is a deep and powerful benefit to meditation. Which of course, in many of its forms uses words, or chants, or phrases, to help quiet the mind, to elevate the spirit, to bring and find peace, and G-d, and grace. And of course meditation can be used to focus words, to contemplate an idea, made of words. To get new ideas, and new words. Or, and I think this is a big plus, to let go of old words, and old ideas, that don't help us anymore. Or that pop up spontaneously and try to poke us with old pain and old problems.

We can use meditation to help stop or redirect thoughts that come at us unrequested, from our unconscious, bringing us bad feelings or distraction or pain. I am not suggesting that talking out old pains and problems isn't useful or necessary, sometimes it takes a lot of talking, a lot of necessary talking, but sometimes we can benefit just as well from the quiet. From a cease fire in our minds of the things that bother us. We can need and have both, in our quest for recovery and meaning, and fullness in life.

I think that the practice of meditation in healing emotional pain cannot be underestimated. The practice of quieting the mind, and reaching the spirit is something that goes a long long way toward easier living, gentle relationships and grace in the world.

I suppose it could seem contradictory. To say that we need words to heal, and that we need a break from words to heal, but I think its true. I think that in my own practice of meditation, I have found much joy, and much calm and much relief.

Meditation can be used to help with OCD, with eating disorders, with anxiety, panic, and depression. I think that in the practice of psychotherapy and healing, and in the living a good life, it is vital. And it does not always have to be fancy or long, or require dedicated training, though certainly training is good for those who want to go deeper. But for those who want to just incorporate a bit of spirituality and mindfulness, or bring in some pause to otherwise busy days, meditation in all its form can carry us along to better feelings, and help bring in an overall sense of wellness and progress. Like letting fresh air blow through your brain.

Safety in Numbers

In honor of National Eating Disorders Awareness Week...and in honor of all who are swimming around in any one of many painful feelings. I just want to put out a reminder that there is safety in numbers. In the right kind of numbers.

Between ten and twenty-four million, to be vaguely exact, and according to recent stats on eating disorders, Americans have an eating disorder. And many more skirt the diagnostic criteria and "just" have issues with weight, food, and body image.

So here's how it goes, lots of the time, for lots of women (men too, but mostly women). We feel a feeling, a difficult one, a disturbing one, lets even say, an out of control one. Anger, frustration, pain, resentment, hate, love, whatever. Just one, or a stew of them, that seem too difficult to bear. Or to bear alone. And we feel it somewhere deep inside. It starts to gurgle in some unknown location in our psyche and we are fairly certain that we don't want it, anymore than we would want to stand in front of an oncoming train. Unless we are that low, which does happen to some, that we would consider this, too.

And we turn to the numbers. For some, the run to the count is deeply about the belief that the number on the scale is the ultimate key to a safe and happy life. To controlled, painless, protected, guaranteed peaceful living. Or to revenge, containment, blissful forever thinness and satisfaction. Whatever it is, some are deeply beholden to idea that there is safety from all ills, from fat bodies to fat emotions, that relief is found in the numbers.

We do not want to go it alone. So what happens? We turn again and again to the numbers. The numbers on the bathroom scale. The number of calories in a bag of Oreos. Or in a whole day's worth of meals. Or in a ginormous binge. Or in a cucumber slice. Only three calories. Ah. Some women I know get on and off the scale up to forty times an hour. This is not only mind numbing, it's also aerobic. This is where safety is sought. It is craved. It is absolutely necessary.

Many escape into the endless task of calculating calories, consumed or burned. How many miles run, at what speed, to burn off what bagel parts in how many minutes. How many sit-ups to cancel out how much fat free fro yo. Okay, you get the picture.

Right idea, I think. Wrong numbers. Temporary safety. Of course the scope and problem, the pain and process of eating disorders is far greater than my musings in this post. But the point for now is this. There is safety in numbers. These numbers: One good friend. Two people who understand your pain. Twelve Steps. One good therapist. Five good support group members. One journal, with one good writing pen. One hundred (thousand or more) words spoken to someone who just listens. Ten things you are grateful for. Two arms around you tight.

Safety in numbers.

The Hate that Keeps You Up at Night

"Over half the females between the ages of eighteen and twenty-five would prefer to be run over by a truck than be fat and two-thirds surveyed would rather be mean or stupid." ~ Perfect Girls, Starving Daughters

I just think this is telling. I think its one chunk of the problem. Our fear of fat, of the fat that represents so much. Of the symptom that eclipses our deeper fears. Over the years that I have worked with women and men, teen-agers and kids who are living with, battling, holding on to, trying to oust bulimia, anorexia, food addiction, compulsive eating, and all shades of food disorders, I have become acutely aware of how relentlessly those who suffer go after themselves. ED folks certainly don't hold the monopoly on self attack but it never ceases to amaze me how big the bat is for certain people.

A guest of mine recently told me that she was having trouble sleeping at night. The therapist in me went ahead asked what was keeping her up. She told me that she was busy hating herself for all the things that feel wrong about her. Not what she did, but for who she is. I hear about this often in my office. I hear about the hate after a binge, or a razor to the thigh. I hear about the hate after a fight with a parent, boyfriend, or friend. It starts off being about the action, (or the fat) and turns into being about the whole self. As if this is all there is to a person.

And often times, I hear this: "If I give up the hate, there will be nothing there. Nothing. And that will be worse than the hate." So then I think: following the hate is fear. It's always interesting how sufferers tell me that it is themselves that they hate, though. Not the one who they are really angry with. As if to say that they really do believe that they are at completely at fault. That when things go wrong in a relationship, including the relationship they have with themselves, that they are expected to have known better, or done better. So therefor they are hateful. Even if there is some truth to this (we can always own our part of things), the hate and blame go inward with a vengence.

Sure on the surface self harmers hate the disorder, or the symptoms, or the one who has hurt them, but peel back the layers, and (often) it's the self hate that is throbbing underneath.

There is some deep belief that mistakes are not allowed, that they are somehow deserving of all the suffering. Even that they bring it on themselves.

True its good to take a look at your own side of the street, but what of all this hate? What of this broken record of "I can't stand myself!"

I think there is a way out. Not that I want to interfere with someone's self hate if they really think its serving a good purpose. But I think it's worth a try. I won't say moving away from it is fast, or easy, but I do believe there is a door. I have seem many of my clients unpack the hate, stop the attack and drop their weapons. And sleep at night.

It begins with these questions: What purpose does the hate serve? What will happen if I stop? What's my philosophy on mistakes? Of course there may be a lot more to it after this, especially for those who are pummeling their bodies to save their souls, or caught in the spider web of addiction, but it's a start. It's one piece of the puzzle.

Walk

It's not new. Though I think it's really worth a mention. Whenever I write about depression, or grief, or anger or pain of any kind, I always have in mind how hard it sometimes is to push ourselves over the hill to do whatever may help us to feel better. Even when we are fairly certain it will help.

Of course the medical evidence and studies abound about the benefits of exercise. The mind, the body, the soul, all are recipients of movement. But walking I find is in a category all it's own. Deep strides, or a meandering stroll, fresh air on your face, in your lungs. Your eyes to the sky. You can clear your head. For those of you that are already sold, you know what I am talking about. But for those of you who think about walking and just have not gotten out the door yet, or for those of you who have not tried it, or who put it in the category of "have to exercise" or tedious chore of the day, I am suggesting you give it a chance.

There are of course all the facts about how it lifts vital hormone levels in your brain, and how it gets your blood going, carrying better mood lifting chemicals throughout your system. Maybe that's the science of it. I suppose I am not really so interested in that part, though I am a believer. The part that I find worth writing about is the relief part. The part where you can actually walk off pain, frustration, anger, fear. Okay, it does not disappear, but I can almost guarantee you that if you get yourself to go out and stride, you will, after a time, feel better.

It's like shaking off dust that you did not know was there. Certainly, for pent up hostility and anger, it's great. But I am thinking more along the lines of thinking. Of having a rolling space to let your thoughts tumble, to let you head clear. To think. Or to just stare at the sky and remember that there are things bigger and more vast then what you can see. Explanations that go beyond. And calm that can come forth.

The trick is getting yourself out the door. And for this I say can only say what everyone else says. You just have to do it. Do it and you will see. You will see that it's one easy, free, access able tool for soothing your tired weary heart.

Walk. Breath. Rest. Think if you want to, but get outside and go. No offense to the treadmill or elliptical. But there is no substitute for space. If you can get to a park, great. If not, any sidewalk will do.

Forrest Gump fans may recall that he had to run the whole country (sometimes, you gotta run too). Sometimes I hear about pain so great that it seems like it would take all 3000 miles to walk off the hurt. Betrayal is up there with the worst feelings. Forrest had to cover a lot of ground. But we don't have to do all 3000 miles in one shot. We may get relief in bits and pieces.

And I find that giving yourself permission to wander is a way of finding yourself amidst all the confusion.

You will most likely come back a little lighter, a little safer and a little more contained, which I think is a good thing. I think we all need a little wind in our hair, and, on lucky days, sun on our face. These are the good and simple things in life that can hold us until things get better. And carry us along right in the moment, when things seems upside down, but may actually be okay in some meant to be, but not yet known kind of way.

Walk on!

Bed Dread and the Day Ahead

O bed! O bed! delicious bed!That heaven upon earth to the weary head.~Thomas Hood, Miss Kilmansegg

Or not.

Some mornings some people wake up with a racing heart, and a feeling of being entombed under a wall of heavy concrete. Even the idea of getting up seems too much to bear. The day ahead seems so awful and daunting that it's hard to imagine even putting a foot out front under the blanket. Sometimes it just seems impossible to even want to think about getting up.

Add to that if it's cold. Add to that if it's dark out. Add to that if you did not sleep well. Or at all. Add to that if you are sad about something. Add to that if your mood swings from the trees like Tarzan. Add to that if you hate your job. Or hate your school. Or don't feel like you are particularly connected to anyone in particular.

And then there is the opposite of not wanting to get out of bed. Not wanting to get into bed. It's not the bed itself that's the issue usually. It's the sleep thing. If you have trouble doing it. Falling asleep. Staying asleep. Resting.

Different versions of bed dread. So there is the usual cast of suggestions for each side of the issue. Can't get up? You are suppose to try to find something in your mind to latch onto that is good. Some detail of the day you could look forward to. Anything. Even if it means getting some sun on your face, or watching the leaves fall. A stretch, I know, but when there are warm blankets between you and the cold world, you gotta give yourself a chance. Sometimes you just must tell yourself that all you need to do is get to the hot shower. You can dive back in after that if you don't feel any better. You can tell yourself that you are some stellar star for heaving yourself up when brain tells you that you can't. And that somewhere in the day, your efforts will be rewarded. And that you dread is not a fact, just a feeling. And feelings pass. The next right thing.

And the usual suggestions for sleeplessness. You've heard them. Write a list of all that's on your mind and put it in a drawer. Give yourself permission to rest, if not sleep. Forget the sheep. Try imagining redecorating a room, making up a good juicy fantasy. Take yourself to a tropical paradise for the night. Talk to G-d. Or get up. And don't go back until you are falling on your face. Read. Forgive yourself.

Truthfully, I did not mean to be talking about sleeping better. Though we all know that it's the cure for many an ailment. I really just meant to offer up some nuggets about how much we deserve to rest. Not just physically, but mentally. And that the two really do go together of course.

I think that somewhere is our psyches, especially when we are hurting about something, or in the throws of some addiction. Binging, cutting, purging, drinking, we just forget how to stop. Just stop.

And then the cycle. We get bed dread of one form or another. We can't get out: too much panic and mood drain. Or we can't get in. Too much too much. No way to settle.

It has to be that way underneath all the tricks of how to get up, and how to sleep, lies our beliefs about rest, and about life on rev, and about how we deal. If the backdrop of bed dread is our unquiet mind, then we have to cooperate with the small piece of our intellect that just knows that somehow someway we have to practice restfulness. That we don't have to solve all of our stuff, we don't have to have answers. And that really either which way, we don't have to be afraid to be calmer. We can manage with whatever comes our way. We can push ourselves gently to get up when we don't feel like it, and to lie down when our brain says to keep going.

And we can talk it. If we just can't figure out how to get restful, we can talk it out until we figure it out. That and some good deep breaths can go a long long way.

The Great Scale god (Or Instrument of Self Destruction)

Ruler of internal universes across lands far and wide. Focal point of countless obsessions. And final judge and jury on self worth, progress, beauty, success and value. Not to mention dictator of permission to eat, commander of starvation and excessive exercise. And last but not least: sedative and relief injection, or more likely, instrument of extreme mental (and sometimes leading to physical) torture.

In all my years of working with eating disorders, from anorexia to food addiction, and all shades of grey in between, there is one very common denominator and that is the scale. I am shamelessly un-techie, so I only recently learned that there are actually digital scales that will calculate your body weight to the tenth of pounds. I am, alas, so dismayed. I get it though. I am no stranger to the mighty scale g-d. Few women are. Nor do I take lightly the enormity of the compulsion to weight one's self. And of course I am well aware of the complexities of eating disorders and the cultural and personal demands that influence body weight, body image and our relationship with food.

Sigh.

If you are suffering from any version of scale worship then you know exactly what I mean. If you get on stark naked, (and some women remove their earrings as well) and the scale is up, the number is higher, even by, now days, a 1/4 pound, then the voice in your head takes off. "You are a pig. You are a cow. "(name calling fest) "No food for you today. You must run six miles after class." (Dictation fest). "You are a horrible rotten piece of nothing and cannot accomplish a thing in life. You can't even lose a stupid pound. (Attack fest of worthlessness).

So there it is. Your value, your self esteem, your entire ability to feel good is wrapped up in a machine. It calls the shots of your mood, your value, your faith in the universe.

Of course if the number is lower then calm can set in. For the moment. "Good. Okay. Now you can keep going. Now you can breath. For now. Don't think you are off the hook."

For some, there is no number low enough.

I know that the scale is a distraction from life. For some it's better to focus on the numbers than on whatever else is going in life. What ever other pain and problems may be beyond the bathroom door. And I know that it is real, the addiction to the scale. And that to kick it takes a whole lot of effort, on top of some recognition that the value of life and self are not dependent on what the number under your feet is.

I have known women who get on the scale 60 to 100 times a day. A day. The feelings of dread, panic, loss of control just gurgle and froth and threaten to take over. And I know that to be caught in scale rip tide is as frightening as it is painful.

So here's what I think. It starts with being willing to think about what is really valuable in life. And continues on to being willing to digest the idea that your worth is not connected to that number. And that you do not have to hurt yourself with the scale anymore. Not even under the guise of helping yourself. I am not saying that you should not care about your weight, or that if you are stuck in this swamp that it's an easy climb out, I am saying that it's worth some pause.

It's worth a bit of distance maybe. And some grace. Always some grace. Perhaps someday you can study what this is all about for you. Most folks don't register at Macy's for self destructive scale obsession. But in the meantime, I do think it's possible to be comfortable in your own skin without a verdict from the metal box each morning, noon and night. If you take the scale out of the equation of your life, then what? That's the question. Then what?

Maybe better days. Maybe more grace. Maybe new ideas. Maybe a lighter life, even.

Touched

I used to wonder if you could actually die from this: lack of touch. I have worked with people who live alone, or who have been hurt and are frightened by touch, and keep others at a safe distance, or who have no one in their life who can give them a good hug, and gentle hand squeeze, an arm around the shoulder. The effects of this body isolation are unknown, but my hunch is that it creates a deeper level of loneliness and a disconnect with the world in some way.

One woman I know who lives alone is older and does not have a lot of contact with peers or family. But she has a cat. She told me once that every morning the cat licks her until she wakes up. She thinks that this is keeping her alive in some way. Her physical self being gently tended to is spiritual. She says it's the closest thing she has to human touch, besides her weekly manicure. And she says that it helps in other ways. It gives her the feeling of being connected, belonging, and appealing. She likes being lick-able.

What's your TQ? Touch Quota. How much touch do you need? What kind of touch? When, why and where? I recently came across some new research from a Utah study that supports the idea the right kind of touch produces chemical changes that benefit our bodies as well as our minds and spirit. Massage, cuddling a baby, even a good handshake can give us a good vibe, and a kind of contact that reminds us that the body can be a conduit of easy simple pleasure and good feelings.

I know some couples who make it a point to hold hands each night as they fall asleep, or cuddle up closely together. I know parents who make it a point to give their kids a hug each day, or a gentle shoulder squeeze, or back rub at night before bedtime. Safe touch rituals can go a long way in communicating trust, love and acceptance.

Of course I know that for some of you touch has been abused, or misused, and does not convey the good feelings. And it is not invited even or especially when you need soothing. Some people prefer to be left alone when they are upset, or sad, while others want to be held, embraced and warmed. Of course it's so personal.

In the world of psychotherapy, it's pretty much the standard rule that clients and therapists don't touch each other. The idea is to use words in the therapy room, and touch is an action. For some it is intimate and not to be mixed into the work of therapy. The way should always be clear for the client to say anything and everything they might need or want to. Touching can get in the way of this.

Sometimes we have to create appropriate touch opportunities. Getting a massage or a manicure. One widow I know took up square dancing once a week so that she can get some fun and light touch, without too much contact. Just enough for her TQ to be satisfied.

I think just knowing what you need and finding safe "touchees" can help. A parent, a friend, a partner who is open to giving a hug when you need one. And to be willing to ask for what you need. It's not a cure-all or even a band-aid, but it helps.