Backward Facing Therapy gives you behind-the-scenes stories from my time as a therapist and therapy client. It’s soulful and transformative mental health content from my couch to yours. You can support my writing by becoming a subscriber or sharing this post. I’m so happy you’re here.
If there’s a month I look forward to all year, it’s October.
For me, October is the official start of autumn. It’s when I can say goodbye to the oppressive heat of summer and hello to pumpkin spice, cooler weather, the beauty of autumn leaves, and my birthday.
But when I stepped outdoors on October 4th and watched the maple leaves fall to my feet, I felt nothing.
When pumpkin spice showed up on the Starbucks menu, I ordered my usual latte instead. The cooler weather? I barely noticed it.
I ignored emails, and messages, slept more than usual, and felt nothing more than a tinge of sadness.
But why? Why was I wasting my favorite month feeling….nothing.
I blamed my Multiple Sclerosis. I chalked it up to stress.
And then a few weeks later, I had to talk to an actual person on the phone but first I had to sit through the annoying elevator music that was playing while I was on hold.
As I often do, I grabbed my journal and started doodling. I drew cats and leaves and pumpkins and then I started writing.
“I’ll give you something to cry about.”
“Life is cruel. Get over it.”
“If you’re going to cry, go to your room.”
The above are actual phrases I wrote in my journal.
Now I’m talking to an actual human but I’m being transferred to a different department. The elevator music is back.
“Toughen up.”
“Those are the brakes.”
These are phrases that were uttered to me by my father throughout my childhood.
If you are a part of Generation X, your parents might have said something similar to you.
We were the kids who did not want to be seen or heard.
We were the kids who weren’t allowed to show emotion “or I’ll give you something to cry about.”
We were the kids who drank water out of hoses, ate at our friends’ houses, and went without bandaids because if we went back into our own house, we had to stay in.
If we were bullied at school, we better learn to deal with it on our own.
If we fell on our bicycle and scraped our knees, we better learn to walk it off and not cry or else we’d lose access to our bike.
Our breakfast was cold cereal and we learned how to make it ourselves by the age of seven. We ate what was put in front of us or we went hungry.
If our best friend moved away, “those are the brakes.”
Generation X was raised by Baby Boomers and the Silent Generation who didn’t want to hear complaints or be bothered with feelings, noise, or questions.
After I was done with my phone call, I went back to my journal and continued writing.
In the last three and a half years:
My father died.
My aunt died.
I lived through a pandemic as an immunocompromised person and I feared for my life regularly.
My husband lost his job.
There was an orange madman in the White House spewing nonsense and not letting my friends come back to the States from certain countries simply because they are Muslim.
Black people were killed for being black.
A woman I considered a second mother passed away.
My friend died of COVID because she was a COVID denier.
My friend died of pancreatic cancer.
My friend died of breast cancer.
My other friend is in hospice care because of cancer. By the way, fuck you cancer.
We had a change in financial circumstances due to the pandemic.
My friend’s son killed himself.
Someone I love almost lost their life due to an accidental overdose.
There’s war, death, cruelty, and suffering in Ukraine, Israel, Palestine, and Syria.
The last three and a half years have sucked.
So even though it’s October, my absolute favorite month, instead of dealing with my shit healthily, I went into default mode.
I haven’t been in default mode since the 1990’s. The early 90s was that horrible time before therapy.
Do you know what the default mode is?
That fucked up Generation X mentality:
don’t show emotion
shake it off
don’t talk about it
be quiet
don’t complain
those are the brakes
it is what it is.
Fuck. that. shit.
Yes, I’m cursing because read this by Lauren Hough.
I may have been raised in Generation X but I no longer have to live the dysfunction of it.
I’m sad and pissed and hurt my friends died. If I want to cry, I’m going to cry and I will not apologize for it.
I will be seen and heard.
Go back and read through that list of the life-changing events I’ve been through in the last three and a half years.
I have a right to any and all emotions. They’re all fucking valid.
I won’t hide my tears and I’ll damn well yell and complain if I want to.
I no longer have to shake it off and I will talk about it even if it makes others uncomfortable.
So, Generation X default mode? Fuck you. I’m done.
Stream of consciousness journaling gave you away.
Stream of what, Kim?
Stream of consciousness journaling. It’s a fancy psych term for writing down whatever’s on your mind without self-editing yourself. You write without worrying about grammar, spelling, or hurt feelings.
That’s what I did while I was on hold to that lovely elevator music.
Honestly, it’s one of my favorite ways to write and get shit out of my head.
To get started, all you need is a pen and paper. Or if you’re feeling a little self-conscious, I made you a download with prompts to help you.
It’s free to download right here.
I hope you find it helpful.
And because I’ve been a little MIA, I’ve got a special offer for you. Subscribe by November 10th and get 20% off FOREVER. That’s right, forever. If you’ve been on the fence, I encourage you to subscribe NOW as certain future posts will be paywalled. Plus, your support means I get to keep writing. I like that.
And if you appreciate this post, how about ordering a t-shirt from my nonprofit fundraiser? If you follow me on Post. News you already know I rescue cats and feed over ten community cats. Since it’s not financially feasible to keep feeding the cats out of my own pocket, I’m trying to start a nonprofit so I can continue and help feed more cats. Buy a T-shirt and help me reach my goal.
Or buy me a coffee.
Just take care of yourself. Be nice. Reach out to others. And let it all out.
Because I said so and I know how to MacGyver shit.
Stream of consciousness writing is great at unearthing the stuff I keep hidden from myself.
I know the Gen X default mode all too well. Like you, I also know how fucked up it is and have mostly learned to be okay with crying or being angry no matter where I am or how others react. Most people ignore me because feelings make them uncomfortable. Others try to make me feel better by minimizing my pain and telling me I should be grateful because my life is good compared to other people’s. Others try to fix whatever made me upset (or tell me what I should do).
And occasionally someone is wise enough to just listen and/or hug me and let me express my feelings. I try to do the same when I encounter someone who’s visibly upset, even if I don’t know them.