Breaking Up With Bitch Brain

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A bitch lives in my brain that no one ever sees. She very rarely reveals herself to the outside world. But she's always talking to me, about me, against me. She hates the shit out of me. And I have a helluva time shutting her the fuck up.

I don't know where she came from, but I'm pretty sure she's the love child of Fat Kid and Small Town. Bitch Brain came to life as my protector. She knew it would be easier for me to navigate the (horrible, cruel) waters of elementary and middle school if she was always one step ahead of the insults. How in the world could I be hurt by real people if Bitch Brain kept up a steady stream of negative chatter about how ugly I was? How could anyone ever make me feel insignificant if she was always telling me that I would never be good enough anyway?

Bitch Brain served her purpose and got me through school without too much damage from other people. But by the time I left both Fat Kid and Small Town behind, we'd become so close that her voice and mine were indistinguishable. I firmly believed that I was all the things echoing through my head — insults that no one would dare utter to another human being and that I can't even write here.

I've spent most of my 30s battling Bitch Brain, and I did OK for a while. But about two years ago, someone I cared for and trusted said things to me that sounded exactly like Bitch Brain's running commentary on my insignificance. But he said them out loud. Someone I cared about said terrible things about my worth as a human being to me out loud. Bitch Brain popped right back up and let me know that she'd been right all along, and why was I so stupid to stop listening to her? She existed only to preserve my feelings and protect me, but I'd been dumb enough to believe that I was a pretty awesome. 

So I started listening to Bitch Brain again. 

It hasn't been a good two years. 

I woke up and started battling Bitch Brain again during my Christmas break, when my therapist (hey, I'm not shy about seeing her. She's amazing.) pointed out that when my criticizer had once become violently angry at me, I knew HE was the problem. But yet when he said he couldn't stomach the thought of spending time with me, I blamed myself. And I not only believed that, but I assumed all people felt the same way about me. 

Since December, I've been reminding myself that Bitch Brain is a lying piece of shit. I read articles about positive self-talk and how to talk when you talk to yourself. I review my inner monologue and remember that if I wouldn't say it to another human being, I shouldn't say it to me. I am kind.

I have setbacks though, and today was a bit of one. Here's how it went.

Good Things That Have Happened Recently
  1.  I've been told twice this week that I knocked two separate work projects out of the park.
  2. I'm tutoring two kids and they actually understand Shakespeare!
  3. This weekend, I'm having coffee with someone I know from college who is nice and fun.
  4. My nephew is reading books on slavery and taking the AP physics exam.
  5. My other nephew is an amazing new Marine.
  6. Both nephews love me, because I'm a great aunt.
  7. I'm sticking to my writing goal for Lent.
  8. I just figured out how to edit my HTML code to indent this block of text.
  9. As previously noted, I made a kickass pie.
Bad Thing That Happened
I saw some photos of said criticizer with his lady "friend" from an event this past weekend.

What I Immediately Thought
"Ugh. What's the matter with you? Why did you look at this? Why do you care? Why are you so stupid? What was so wrong with you that this woman is somehow better than you? You must be really ugly. And dumb. Because we all know she can't spell 'shudder' or 'quirk,' yet there he is. With that person. He can spend time with her, but not you. You must have sucked at so many things that she's good at. What did you do to fail so much in life? Why are you so sucky? Why are you such a loser?"

Lest you worry that I went down a rabbit hole of badness, fret not. I stopped that shit fast. And I did so because I work with two amazingly funny people who seem to love the crap out of me. Plus another friend told me how much he's enjoying my blogging project. And deep down — every day nearing the surface, really — I know that nothing the criticizer said was true. Nothing Bitch Brain says is true. I'm skilled and talented and funny and even, maybe, cute. What he and his lady friend are have nothing to do with me. Not anymore. They're way out there. And I'm here. Writing this blog. Silencing Bitch Brain.

Baking a kickass pie.


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