Chapter 9. Lying

I’m a thinker, I can think, and I think, “I think I can think differently.” 

When I first read through the list of cognitive distortions, offered in David Burns’ Feeling Good, I am surprised. [If interested in the list, refer to "Cognitive Distortions" in smaller font at end of this post.]

I muse, ‘Oh, that’s not normal? Not an okay way to think?’  But

I dig in and try the cognitive therapy suggested; upon awareness of upset, I identify situation, emotions, automatic thoughts, cognitive distortion, rational response.

Situation: In mid-February 1996, I am falling asleep early many nights. 
My emotions: sadness for time lost with Gregg in the evening and madness at myself.

My automatic thoughts: “I’m a party pooper, always have been and am still.”

The cognitive distortions: overgeneralization, labeling, and all or nothing thinking.

My rational response, an attempt to tell myself the truth: 
     “True, I’m not into really whooping it up, but I’m often willing to do something fun when suggested. I’d like to work on figuring out what I think is fun and initiating it. About falling asleep, maybe my body is adjusting to the meds. Maybe I could take naps to be able to stay awake with Gregg at night. Or maybe I don’t have to be awake most nights with him, we could substitute time at lunch or while on a walk.”

Another example.
Situation: Allure appears in my nightmare-ish dreams; and in real life Gregg talks with Allure.
Emotions: jealous, hurt, threatened, insecure.
Automatic thoughts: Allure would make a better wife to Gregg than me; Gregg finds her easier to talk to and finds me critical.

Cognitive distortion: mental filter, magnification.

Rational response: 
     Sometimes Allure has a way of getting to the core of things and articulating it in a way I don’t, so I can feel intimidated by her insight. Also it can seem like Gregg has to work harder to feel at ease with me lately. But there’s a much greater intimacy with us for all our years together. I have often chosen to serve and help him. Still I can learn to understand him more. I can learn some new ways of communicating acceptance and support. I can remember that Gregg loves me.

After some weeks on the depression meds and time of trying these cognitive approaches, I write in late spring 1996:

Time for update. I continue to daily chart on separate paper my moods, dreams, and some activity. I’m aware of the Zoloft having some effect, there’s a lift and not the same drudgery and lack of enthusiasm as I face the day.

New development – I found out Saturday night (2/24/96) and more Sunday afternoon of Gregg and Allure talking on the phone on a regular basis since November (probably maybe an average of once a week). Allure initiated at the beginning, Gregg returned some calls and initiated in the last month or so. They both are sorry and have asked for forgiveness. I’m working at forgiving completely.

I’ve felt much grief though in thinking on Gregg’s lying to me, and that he and she were deceptive and inconsiderate of my wishes.

I feel so disregarded.

I’ve had opportunity to express my hurt and anger – they both allowed it well. And Allure was articulate in identifying the wrong and hurt. Now I’m grieved over her situation with her husband and his lack of assuming any responsibility in the horrid dynamics in their relationship. Oh Lord, reveal truth. Penetrate.

I notice that I rather quickly pass over the offense in an attempt to move toward forgiveness. I am so wanting to move on and out of their sordid attraction and my dark emotions, out of hurt and anger. I want the opposite of all that: I want love and light and connection with husband.

I wince at my word choice of “penetrate” as it conjures up a picture in reminder of the kind of activity that was happening between them in those months. What I wanted then was for God to penetrate each of us with the reality of what was truly good and love. That is what I always wanted. In large measure that is what eventually happened. 

Gregg is a truth-teller now.

It takes a little while to get to the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Many months pass.

Summer of 1996 includes our 20-year class reunion, and a cross-country road-trip family vacation -- to Glacier and Yellowstone National Parks and much more, adding many miles to our tired "wood" paneled station wagon's odometer. It turns out to be a lovely and memorable time. 

I experiment with the depression meds, occasionally taking a break from them. Most often when I go off the depression-helper chemicals I am either near tears or shedding tears; and I describe my feelings as frustrated, irritable, dull, weepy, destructive.

I come to some new awareness of other ‘drugs’ that I’d been using through my adulthood: those of activity and accomplishment to provide diversion or to feel better about myself. I realize that the need to do my “duty” has been more about me and my ego than about serving or loving God. There are so many ‘shoulds’ in my vocabulary. This quote from the book Boundaries, describes well where I stood on should.

“We have been so trained by others on what we "should" do that we think we are being loving when we do things out of compulsion. Setting boundaries inevitably involves taking responsibility for your choices.  You are the one who makes them.  You are the one who must live with their consequences.

– Cloud and Townsend (p 42-43)

What I write in my journal reveals a sure beginning of severely asking myself “Who am I?” And a hint of accepting some of my human limitations.

August 8, 1996.  It occurs to me that my motivation for doing things and accomplishing much perhaps really isn’t love for God “as unto the Lord,” but diversion and for self.

I can’t help but ask myself – who am I really? I think I defined myself as one who sought to meet the needs of others and serve them and God. Not so? Talk about identity crisis. I don’t know what I’m all about… I have for so long numbed myself. Just not felt.

August 13, 1996.  Yesterday (Monday) I felt pretty horrid, a bit tearful, really frustrated, cruddy inside. 

Thought of not eating (call it fasting and it’s acceptable to people around me) to drop pounds and have hurt. 

Death wishes. 

Feeling of duty – just keep doing ‘cause lots needed to be done. Thoughts of “all I do is work” (grocery, laundry, errands, help with homework). This is day 7 of no med.

Just read over some past entries – I do have a different understanding of life now with learning of serotonin and experiencing life with higher serotonin levels.

In Elijah’s depression story in I Kings 19 God takes care of some human needs – food, water, sleep, solitude – and then offers emotional and spiritual reassurances telling Elijah that this is what will happen, and what you will do next….  God gives Elisha as a helper, reassures Elijah that he’s not alone, saying “I have 7000 in Israel.” 

Could it be that my helper is medication? And my encouragement from God is my brothers and sisters in Christ?

Cognitive Distortions 
1. All-or-nothing thinking: You see things in black-and-white- categories. If your performance falls short of perfect, you see yourself as a total failure.
2. Overgeneralization: You see a single negative event as a never-ending pattern of defeat.
3. Mental filter: You pick out a single negative detail and dwell on it exclusively so that your vision of all reality becomes darkened, like the drop of ink that discolors the entire beaker of water.
4. Disqualifying the positive: You reject positive experiences by insisting they “don’t count” for some reason or other. In this way you can maintain a negative belief that is contradicted by your everyday experiences.
5. Jumping to conclusions: You make a negative interpretation even though there are no definite facts that convincingly support your conclusion.
    a. Mind reading. You arbitrarily conclude that someone is reacting negatively to you, and you don’t bother to check this out.
    b. The Fortune Teller Error. You anticipate that things will turn out badly, and you feel convinced that your prediction is an already-established fact.
6. Magnification (Catastrophizing) or Minimization: You exaggerate the importance of things (such as your goof-up or someone else’s achievement) or you inappropriately shrink things until they appear tiny (your own desirable qualities or the other fellow’s imperfections). This is also called the “binocular trick.”
7. Emotional Reasoning: You assume that your negative emotions necessarily reflect the way things really are: “I feel it, therefore it must be true.”
8. Should Statements: You try to motivate yourself with shoulds and shouldn’ts, as if you had to be whipped and punished before you could be expected to do anything. “Musts” and “oughts” are also offenders. The emotional consequence is guilt. When you direct should statements toward others, you feel anger, frustration, and resentment.
9. Labeling and Misleading: This is an extreme form of overgeneralization. Instead of describing your error, you attach a negative label to yourself: “I’m a loser.” When someone else’s behavior rubs you the wrong way, you attach a negative label to him: “He’s a louse.” Mislabeling involves describing an event with language that is highly colored and emotionally loaded.
10. Personalization: You see yourself as the cause of some negative external event which in fact you were not primarily responsible for.