Self Limiting Beliefs. Or How I Learned To Read Again. And Again. And Again.

This, the first post in a blog, would be an ideal place for a self introduction.  Life rarely follows ideals though so here's something else instead.   I will write an introduction soon, including an explanation for the title of the blog and the kind of things it will include.  There will be lots of gratitude, mental health, writing, photos, and just a touch of rebellion.

For tonight though, a burst of positive.  One of many things I've placed in the "impossible" category that I can now view as "possible" and even "achievable."

Self Limiting Beliefs

We all have them. Stories we tell and believe about our own limitations. All the things we can't do. I have lots of stories which I've told myself. Some for years. Some for almost a lifetime.

One such story is this: "Clare cannot read books anymore because all her mental health difficulties make it impossible. She would never be able to concentrate."

It's just a story, strengthened by time and strengthened by having so many diagnoses imposed on me over the years. I've tried to rewrite the story several times over the last few years. It hasn't worked out. Even when I've successfully finished books I've allowed the story to beat me again.

It's also false. An impossible thing that is totally possible. It's nonsense too. It's also a story which I hear spoken by other people of themselves.

In the second half of 2019 I've been working to challenge the story. Clare CAN read books. Clare CAN concentrate. It's time for new stories and for losing some of my erroneous self limiting beliefs.

Overcoming self limiting beliefs can be tough. Perhaps with the most skilled hypnotherapist or an intervention by Derren Brown it can be a quicker and easier process. Perhaps.

If you've overcome a false story you've told about yourself, well done. That's an achievement to be celebrated as well as freedom from chains that held you down even though they were never real outside of thoughts and beliefs. Celebrate all the "impossible" things you've done. Cherish and nurture them, you amazing person.

I've worked hard at this, just as I've worked hard at starting to take courses this autumn, and to get from the constantly suicidal woman who lived a year ago to the not suicidal woman who lives today.

It's tiring because so much of my head still cries out that it's impossible. Clare can't do books. Clare can't take a course. Clare can't be stable enough. Clare is useless. Every day is a quest to challenge stories and voices, false limits and false insults.

Unfortunately, what with it being tiring, other parts of my life have suffered. Getting out. Seeing excellent places. Being social. Responding to messages. I've neglected relationship far more than I wanted. Creativity. I miss those things and need to stick them back into my life properly in the new year - before me head creates stories that I can't do those things either.

Each one of those stories was one which I used to believe of myself. "Clare can't do evenings." "Clare can't do social". "Clare can't be creative." "Clare can't cope on buses to the unknown." "Clare can't be spontaneous." So many stories and I know I need to watch so they don't return.

There are other challenges too. Ideally, I want to be in paid employment by the end of 2020. Now that's impossible. My head says so. My diagnosis list suggests so. "Clare will never be able to work." "Never, never, never, don't be so stupid." Nevertheless, that's the aim and even now I'm seeking to challenge, overturn, and rewrite that tale of impossibility. There's quite a war going on in my head and it can be exhausting to refuse self limits.

The photos in this post all contain books I've read in the last four and a half months, although a couple I am yet to finish. They're not all good books. They're not necessarily books that the proud literary world would call "worthy." But they're books and I've (mostly) enjoyed them and that's good enough for me.

And yet, even while completing a book today and very loudly, urgently, and stridently ten minutes later there was a voice. "Clare cannot read books. She just can't. It's impossible because her head is too messed up."

"CLARE CANNOT READ BOOKS!"

Brains are strange!