Years ago, I developed a condition in my arm. The doctor said it could go away on it’s own or I could try steroids. Side effects of steroids are weight gain, moon facies (Google it) and bull neck. It was a “hell no!” I wasn’t willing.
In May, the discomfort in my arm had become a problem. I had taken up rowing. I REALLY want to row. I had to decide between the discomfort of the side effects or the discomfort of not being able to do what I wanted to do. It was a “hell yeah!” I was willing to experience the discomfort of weight gain and any side effect in order to row. After 30 days, I had no significant weight gain, bull neck, or moon facies.
In June, I started phase two. Phase two’s medication has a side effect wherein it can suppress dopamine. When dopamine is suppressed, the result is depression! Research indicates this side effect is rare, but within days I went from massive action to massive bleakness. Was I willing to experience this level of discomfort for my goal? My mind was telling me that depression would require me to sacrifice a lot more than weight gain.
I was thinking I had to choose between continuing to build good habits (weight loss, exercise, business growth, etc.) or my arm. The heaviness of what I was feeling (and the lack of enthusiastic interest that I had felt a few weeks prior ) was telling me I couldn’t do anything but exist while my arm healed.
On a call with my coach one day, she said, “what do you wish you were wrong about that you think is absolutely true?”
That was a light bulb moment! Have you ever thought to yourself, “Wow. I was wrong about that?” or “That didn’t go the way I had planned.” Ten years ago, I didn’t try to heal my arm because I thought I would gain a lot of weight. If I gained any in May, it was insignificant.
What else do I want to be wrong about? I want to answer this question!
Pull the thread of this thought…
As a coach, I help my clients develop strategies and find the confidence to achieve whatever it is they want in life. My job is not to make everything be positive. My job is not to make my clients think positively. My job is to help them see that just a few small tweaks in their thinking can make all the difference in their success. I am my best client. I want my arm to get better. I am willing to be uncomfortable to do it. I also want to continue on my journey of building solid habits and not having to table my progress while I heal.
We have to be willing to be uncomfortable. Discomfort is the currency of our dreams!
I decided to make a plan that allows the side effects, but prioritizes my goals. At first, I scheduled naps because the drug makes me sleepy. The day following the weekly dose is the worst, so I plan every Thursday with the anticipation that I will not be my best. This often looks like not cooking dinner, having fewer meetings, and watching documentaries or reading. Second, I make sure to walk most every day even when I don’t want to. I make daily food and work plans and follow them even when tears well up under my eyelids for seemingly no reason, even when I want to throw a tantrum. And, when things feel gloomy, I remind myself this is just an emotion in my body. Nothing has gone wrong. I’m okay.
I’m not doing it perfectly, but I am willing to keep making small tweaks while I work through this season. I am my best client. I am willing to be uncomfortable to achieve my goals. Everyday that I don’t do it perfectly, is still a day where doing something is more than doing nothing. If I decide tomorrow or next week that I’m no longer willing, that’s okay too, but I’ll like my reason.
Where are you absolutely sure there is discomfort, but you wish you were wrong? You pay for your dreams with the currency of discomfort. You could be wrong about how uncomfortable the journey may be. Are you willing to find out? Message me if you’d like to strategize!
One final note, clinical depression is serious. While significant help can be found through coaching, coaching is not a substitute for professional medical help.
