FLYlady Day 5 – listen to the voices and tell them to shut up
During May I am following FLYlady’s 31-day Beginner’s Babysteps, and reporting on my progress.
The FLYlady adventure continues on Day 5. As well as keeping up with our regular getting dressed and shining our sink, today she says:
Are you hearing any of those nagging negative voices popping into your head? I want you to take a piece of paper and write down what you hear then I want you to turn those ugly words around and say something nice to yourself to negate the ugly words that they said.
Where to start? I have the negative voices all the time. Here’s what they’re saying today. It might sound familiar, I hear they get around:
- your skin looks terrible today
- when are you going to do something about your weight?
- you are not doing a good job at work. Better hope no one notices because you’ll be sacked and you’ll never manage to get work again
- jesus, seriously, could you BE any crappier at your job?
- your house is a pigsty and you are useless for letting it be that way
- you are a bad person. You’ll be a terrible mother.
- watch out, maybe today Dave will realise you’re not worth loving.
That bit was easy! But the next bit, to say something nice to myself? That’s hard. How do I get these vicious little whispers to shut up?
See, my father was an arse. Alcoholic (not that he’d ever admit it), petty, controlling, mentally unstable. His moods were all over the place, you had to tiptoe around him all the time. He could hold a grudge for months, in fact one time he didn’t speak to me for 6 weeks and it only stopped because he went back to the ship (he was in the Merchant Navy) and presumably forgot while he was away. And he could be so cruel, with the things he’d say. He made our lives hell for years. It was such a relief when my parents finally split up when I was 17, I didn’t care I was halfway through year 12 and wouldn’t be able to go to Melbourne Uni like I’d planned. I haven’t seen him since I was 21, he died 4 years ago, and yet I still have nightmares about him coming back.
Mind you, my mother’s not perfect either. She has her issues. When she’s mad at me she (still!)hisses “you’re just like your father.” Which is pretty hurtful because I know how she feels about my dad. But sometimes I think she’s right. I have his arrogance, his temper. And it terrifies me. I hate myself. There are a billion reasons why I don’t want to turn into either of my parents. Don’t get me wrong, I know my mother loves me. And I do love her. But we’re very different people and it wasn’t exactly a supportive relationship over here. Still isn’t, really. I really wish it was different.
So anyway, plenty of negative voices over here. And it’s not easy for me to think of nice things to counteract them. I mean, I am fat, my skin is awful, I really am that shit.
But sometimes, I feel pretty good. I know, I remember it. When I’ve slept enough and am calm, when the sun is shining and my body doesn’t hurt. When I can concentrate on just being me instead of the me that Mum sees, and I have time to breath and get my feet under me. Well, then I realise that my hair is pretty and I might have rosacea but it’s not that bad. I am a good cook and a loving wife, I’m great with finances and animals (just ask the budgie who was terrified of me six months ago and is now hanging off the side of my head), and when people ask me questions at work I know what I’m talking about. I am funny and generous and nice and people really like me. In short, I am brilliant. If I could feel like this all the time I’d rule the world.