Category: Mental health

Yarn-stores-in-montreal

Impulse Purchase & Ensuing Guilt

Jane Leave a comment

I *like* to think I’m not a big spender.

I don’t enjoy shopping. Whether it’s for clothes, food, or even books, I’m just not that into it.

However, as I’ve moved further into the knitting world, one form of shopping has become more of a pleasure than a chore.

That is: yarn shopping!

What is it about Yarn?

Yarn is so full of possibilities.

An unwound hank of yarn, twisted into a skein, sparks the imagination. Whether it’s the color or the texture, with just a little creative thinking, it can become a luxurious cabled sweater, a drapey shawl, or a cozy hat.

The thing is, I’m not talking about just any kind of yarn.

The Kind of Yarn Matters

When I first learned to crochet, I would use whatever yarn was available and affordable. Mostly, that was 100% acrylic yarn.

Acrylic yarn has its uses and I don’t want to knock it. But when we were living in Montreal, I joined a Stitch n’ Bitch knitting group.

Through the Stitch n’ Bitch ladies, I succumbed to the love of fine yarns.

Merino, silk, alpaca, mohair, cashmere, donegal tweed, yak, camel…

Once you knit with these (or a combination of any of them!), you’re done. It’s really hard to go back once you get used to the feeling of these yarns in your hands.

How Temptation Arose

You guys know I knit a lot. I really like it. As I’ve written here before, it’s a big part of my mental health regime.

I usually buy yarn with a specific project in mind. It’s true that I don’t always end up knitting what I had planned with the yarn, but that’s beside the point.

It’s not like the yarn is going to go to waste! But it’s true that I have accumulated a healthy stash of nice yarns.

While we were on vacation, I finished my “dotted rays” shawl by Stephen West. Foolishly, I had not considered the possibility that I would actually finish it, and failed to plan for another travel project.

What to do??

At home, I have patterns. At home, I have yarns for those patterns.

Unwisely, I made my way to the internet, where luxurious yarns are readily available for purchase.

Any yarn I ordered online would not be available to me until I got home!

And yet, I ordered it.

Hence, my guilt.

Why I Feel Guilty

Partially, it’s the the fact that I already had plenty of yarn.

But it’s also an insidious phenomenon that many people (especially women) suffer from: namely, feeling guilty for spending money on something that is purely for pleasure.

It’s ironic: so much of what is marketed to us involves pleasure. Food that tastes good, amazing vacation destinations for travel, etc.

But when you think about it, most of what is marketed to women as “pleasure products” are self-care products like soaps, shampoos, spas, manicures, makeup…

All things to make ourselves look more appealing to others (read: men).

When women choose to spend money on anything that isn’t for our families, or to make us more attractive to the men in our lives, we are taught to be ashamed.

We can even feel guilty for purchasing books, for goodness sake!

Swallow the Guilt

Unless you are spending money you cannot afford to, I say: swallow the guilt.

We need to get over it. As long as our spending isn’t irresponsible, why should we feel any guilt on the score?

Okay, so admittedly I probably should not have made the purchase I did. I didn’t need the yarn, it wasn’t cheap, and I had other projects ready.

But I will not beat myself up for giving into temptation and indulging in an impulse purchase.

(Really! I won’t! Or at least I’ll try not to…)

What Are Your Impulse Purchases Like?

What do you spend money on and then feel slightly guilty about later? What are your indulgences?

I want to know I’m not alone!

Quitting Facebook

Jane 4 Comments

I’ve written about this before. Many times.

Even a short period of time spent on Facebook leaves me feeling at best lethargic, at worst angry.

I haven’t been writing much on the blog lately, and that reflects in the amount of time I (haven’t) spent on Facebook. I only really go on to post my blog articles anyway.

After being off it for so long, I felt absolutely no desire to go back on. Maybe that’s part of why I haven’t been writing much on here. I didn’t want to feel like I had to go back on Facebook to share my articles.

Back on Facebook for a Visit

Yesterday, I published a blog article. My blog automatically posts to my “thebraininjane” Facebook page, but I need to actually go write a post on my own profile in order to share my articles there.

With some trepidation, I opened Facebook in my browser.

The first thing that I saw was that I had dozens of notifications. The little red notification icon with the number in it is just irresistible. I clicked on it.

Immediately I saw updates from friends, mentions of me in comments on posts I was clueless about, and all kinds of other things I had been perfectly happy not knowing about.

Almost Down the Rabbit Hole

Before I knew it, I had been ten minutes getting myself up to speed on a thread I had commented on weeks before and lost track of.

I hadn’t even seen the time go by! I had only wanted to post my article and leave!

I yanked myself out of the rabbit hole and quickly marked all notifications as “read”. I shared the link to my article, and closed the window in my browser.

Then I sent a text message to my sister-in-law (dear friend and beloved recipient of the Weekender sweater). I told her how I’d nearly gone down the rabbit hole.

Her response was pretty much perfect: “Facebook is not for me.”

Wow.

How simple. How uncomplicated! How true! HOW LIBERATING!

What To Do Now?

It became clear to me then and there that I want to delete my Facebook account.

And not just “deactivate”. No no no, I want to actually delete my account. I don’t want Facebook retaining information about me.

(Yes, yes, I know Facebook has my information on Whatsapp and Instagram, and don’t even get started on how much Google knows about me. Baby steps, people!)

My first step was to google (I know) “how to delete my Facebook account”. The first result was this C-Net article, published only a few days ago, which gives helpful step-by-step instructions.

Let People Know

One of the only things that I like about using Facebook is Messenger. I haven’t had the Facebook app on my phone or tablet for nearly four years now, but I have kept the Messenger app. I think that’s been one of my main reasons for keeping my account: having that ability to write to a Facebook contact if I want to.

The C-Net article recommends posting a status update a few days before deleting your account by way of an announcement. Let people know you’re closing your account and ask them to send you other contact info by Messenger.

Let this post serve as my notification: I’M QUITTING FACEBOOK!

Send me your contact deets, folks. I’ll actually create a contact for you in my address book! Imagine that!

What I’ll Miss

As a hopeless extrovert, I will miss the possibility of getting in touch with people from my past out of the blue. It’s nice to think of a person, remember them for some reason, and write them a little note to say you’re thinking of them. I’ll miss that.

I’ll also miss the local stitch n’ bitch group. There’s something about crafty people who knit and crochet that makes them some of the craziest, zaniest and most entertaining people around. The group will continue to meet, and though I may miss out on things online, I definitely won’t miss out when we meet in person again.

Finally, it’s true that there are lots of really fun and interesting Facebook groups out there. I’ve enjoyed my local Buy Nothing group tremendously. I worry that cutting myself off from Facebook will also mean cutting myself off from groups like these.

Maybe it will. But maybe that’s okay? We’ll see.

Quitting Facebook Feels Scary

Maybe it’s FOMO, maybe it’s because I’m such an extrovert. But the idea of quitting Facebook feels scary. Though I spend maybe 10 minutes out of every two weeks on the platform now, its just being there as an option feels reassuring.

But everyone I know who has taken this step has not regretted it. They’ve never looked back.

It seems that slowly weaning ourselves off of social media is, dare I say it, healthy? Perhaps it’s because social media is so hard to do in moderation. You’re either not on, or your doom scrolling.

Between the two, I’d rather be off it altogether.

I’ll keep you posted!

Take A Hike!

Jane 2 Comments

It must have been obvious that I was not doing well.

So obvious, in fact, that my mother’s dear friend and my stand-in godmother (who also takes on role of great auntie and sometimes even grandmother in her friend’s place) informed me that she was coming to watch the boys on Wednesday afternoon and that I should leave the house.

She didn’t offer to watch the boys. No. She informed me she was going to watch the boys.

Alrighty, then! I’ll leave!

But where to go?

In the Before Times I’d have booked a massage, or perhaps an afternoon sewing lesson at a local fabric store. Maybe a mani-pedi or a visit to the hairdresser.

But in Covid Times (despite being vaccinated), either these activities are unavailable or seem unsafe.

So instead, I checked the weather report and then wrote to a friend.

“I know you’re working and you have responsibilities and everything, but I’m not okay and my godmother is watching the kids tomorrow and do you want to go on a hike with me?”

The response was swift and encouraging: I’ll make it work.

Outdoor Escape

That’s how I found myself in the car headed west on a mid-week afternoon (on St. Patrick’s Day, no less!).

I’d gone on AllTrails and found a lovely-looking hike within reasonable distance of home. I packed my hiking backpack with water, a first-aid kit, my knitting, two hunks of cheese and a Swiss army knife, grabbed my walking sticks and my mother’s old hiking boots and hopped in the car.

We met at Sky Meadows state park, a lovely park with several trail routes. After encountering a brood of chickens zealously guarding the restrooms, we struck north and tackled a 4.4 mile loop with gusto.

The first part of the hike was the hardest, but the view was worth it. As we stood at the top of a very steep hill, winded and sweaty after just 10 minutes of hiking, I thought to myself, “This was a wonderful idea.”

So Grateful

That hike in excellent company (and the delicious meal that followed!) was exactly what the doctor ordered.

So many things can crowd together to fog my mind and put me in a funk. Tedium, boredom, loneliness, feelings of inadequacy… We all have these feelings sometimes.

What we don’t all have, and what I am privileged to enjoy, are resources and opportunities.

Resources like the wonderful people who support me: my husband, my mother’s best friend, my own friends, family. Opportunities like being able to take a hike mid-week.

For these, and for so much more, I am very grateful. I hope to never take the people and the circumstances that surround me for granted.

If You’re Feeling Blue

You’re not alone. Though trust me, I know it feels like it. Depression sinks us further into isolation, which is a scary side-effect of social distancing.

If you or someone you love is suicidal, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 800-273-8255.

The Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (or SAMHSA–I know, catchy, right?) also offers a 24/7 hotline for free treatment referral and information: 1-800-662-HELP (4357).

There are lots of online resources like Better Help and others. I have no personal experience with these and don’t know how they work. Many of them are for-profit companies, so be aware of that.

If you have a family doctor, you can also reach out for tele-health appointments and referrals.

You can also write to a friend, or call. If you’re reading this and you want to talk, just drop me a line or give me a call. My friend rearranged her work day to take a hike with me. That’s what friends do. I’ll do the same for you.

Photo credit: Brittany Baker on AllTrails.com

Compulsive Phone Checking

Jane Leave a comment

You want to see something freaky?

Go into your settings and look at your screen time report.

Earlier this year I finally turned off my screen time report notification when it kept telling me that my average weekly screen time was creeping up.

I looked at it today for the first time in a while, and it’s at 1 hour and 28 minutes per day on average. That’s down 29% from last week!

The truth is, picking up my smartphone has become almost a compulsive behavior.

Put Into Perspective

Let’s be generous and say I sleep eight hours a night. That gives us 16 waking hours left per day.

If, on average, I’m spending 1.5 hours per day on my phone, that leaves me 14 and 1/2 hours left in my day.

That doesn’t sound too bad.

But when I compare that to the time I spend doing my hobbies, that’s when it starts to seem like a lot.

  • Reading: I definitely don’t read 1.5 hours a day.
  • Knitting: if I knitted that long every day I’d have serious shoulder pains!
  • Writing: nope.
  • Exercising: it’s about 30 minutes every other day.
  • Playing piano: I play for max. ten minutes if I’m lucky.

And remember: 1.5 hours is down 29% from last week! What was I DOING last week??

Checking the Phone Compulsively

I wake up, I check my phone. (The first pickup today was at 7:35am.)

My phone lives in my back pocket or sits next to me on the counter. It follows me upstairs, downstairs, outside… To the bathroom…

(Don’t tell me you don’t do it!)

Any change in pace or activity, any lull and I whip it out.

Mostly I’m on WhatsApp and Instagram. On WhatsApp I’m at least interacting with family and friends.

But on Instagram, it’s just mindless scrolling. I shoot past post after post, pausing occasionally to unmute and watch a video, or to like something.

The worst part is, though, that I’ve clicked on some Instagram ads. And have even bought off of Instagram ads!

Each time it happens I get SO ANNOYED with myself! I’m behaving exactly as Mark Zuckerberg wants me to and making him money with each stupid purchase.

Gah! Damn the man!

Why the Compulsive Checking?

I’ve been wondering about this. What is causing me to constantly reach for my phone?

Why am I mindlessly scrolling? Checking for messages I know have not come? Looking for likes when I haven’t posted anything?

What does it give me? Is it escapism? Am I doing it out of boredom?

Maybe it’s just become a habit, like twirling my hair. It certainly feels that mindless most of the time.

Looking for Contact?

Or is it that I’m desperately looking for contact?

I’d have to delve a little deeper into my screen time data to see if the pandemic has had much of an impact on my phone use.

Since we’re not seeing much of anyone, the phone is my only point of contact with anyone outside my household.

Perhaps this compulsive phone checking is simply an expression of loneliness.

What To Do?

1 .Forgive myself:

It’s okay to be desperate for contact in these socially distanced times. I think we can all relate to that.

2. Set some ground rules for phone use:

Not at the table. Not when I’m spending time with my Chico or the kids. Never in the car. Leave it downstairs at bedtime.

3. Delete Instagram:

I’ve done this before, and it was good. I still used my phone a lot for WhatsApp and other messaging apps, but at least I stopped the mindless scrolling (and stupid purchases. Damn you, Mark Zuckerberg!).

4. Wear my watch:

One of the biggest reasons I pick up my phone is to look at the time. Wearing a watch precludes that necessity.

5. Forgive myself again:

Don’t get mad at myself for failing to do any or all of the above. Even being more aware of my compulsive phone checking is a positive step forward.

The Slough of Despond

Jane Leave a comment

The Swamp of Despair. The Pit of Gloom. The Dismal Abyss.

You get the idea, yes?

John Bunyan’s Slough of Despond was a place where his protagonist (a rather obviously named “Christian”) wallowed in the weight of his sins and his sense of guilt.

My personal Slough is more to do with my feelings of failure.

What Brings It On

It’s hard to say what brings on these episodes. I find myself sinking into a gloom, as if the weight of something is sitting on my chest.

The smallest tasks become overwhelming. The slightest things become major irritants.

It’s a debilitatingly contradictory combination of numbness and hyper-sensitivity. It fixes me in a gloomy funk and can last anywhere from a few hours to a few days, or in extreme cases, a few weeks or even months.

Focusing on Failures

This gloomy mood happens to all of us. Many people are feeling it more with the isolation that the pandemic has brought.

When it descends on me I tend to focus on my perceived failures. Which particular failures change from spell to spell.

This time my brain seems fixated on how I have failed to be as well-informed, well-read, thoughtful, spiritual, generous with my time as…

My Mother.

This is not a new way I have devised to punish myself. I’ve compared myself to her often enough in the past.

The comparison has also been made by others, and often times the expectation for me to be like her is very real. I’ve been told of it outright.

It’s unfair. It’s unfair for me to do this to myself. It’s also unfair for others to do it to me.

My mother was an extraordinary woman. There is no doubt about that.

I am also extraordinary in my own way. I’m a woman of remarkable abilities. However…

I am not my mother.

I’m not even all that much like her. I think that’s part of why we got along so well.

While she was alive, I felt no pressure to be like her (at least not from her). We shared the joy of our mutual love, our admiration and our capacity to push each other out of our different comfort zones.

Since her death, however, both I and others seem to have transferred a lot of what she was to me.

A spiritual mentor of hers writing to me as he would have to her. A friend of hers expecting me to share all my mother’s knowledge of literature. A family member expressing dismay that I do not take the same joy from cooking as my mother did.

And then there are my own feelings of failure at not being such an active participant in my community as she was in hers.

The list goes on.

Gloom or Grief?

It’s almost as if I knew better who I was and what my place was before my mother died.

Losing her, I have lost some of my sense of self.

It’s hard to say if what I’m feeling is a “depressive episode” or simply grief. More than three years on, it can still sneak up on me.

I miss her. I also miss who she helped me to be.