SELF-TALK SECRET? YOU’RE NOT THAT BAD

Self-talk proves one thing:

You’re an easy sell if you talk yourself into trouble.

Then what?

Talk yourself out of trouble. What did you think?

And that’s where opinions differ.

Self-talk isn’t the same as following directions, and following directions isn’t some kind of emasculating scheme to deprive men from mansplaining.

Mansplaining isn’t self-talk either, but don’t tell a man.

 

Care Giving Talk

Me: I don’t think your stepdad wanted to live.

Wife: How would you know?

Me: He told me every day.

Wife: Every day? Come on.

Me: How long did I take care of him, five years?

Wife: I forget.

Me: Right. For five years I’d go downstairs expecting the worst. Then I’d ask him how he felt. (Click this link)

Wife: So you talked to him first thing?

Me: He didn’t engage much at first, just looked miserable. So I asked if he wanted to die.

Wife: You didn’t.

Me: And he’d say yes, so we’d go over the same ground as the day before. Since he couldn’t kill himself I asked him if he wanted help. After Mr. Smith and Mr. Wesson left the house we, mostly me, talked about the pillow, a rope, a knife.

Wife: Could he hear you? Could he understand?

Me: He was good to go on any means possible, but I told him it wouldn’t work since I’m not a murderer so we might as well can that shit, get out of bed, get cleaned up, and be the best Parkinson’s guy with dementia we can be together. No slacking. Let’s fucking go.

Wife: You said that every day?

Me: I alternated with giving a news report from other eras.

Wife: You were a newsman?

Me: One morning I broke the news of Russian missiles in Cuba and President Kennedy had called to ask what he ought to do.

Wife: I remember that.

Me: So did big daddy and he gave me the stink-eye to let me know he knew I was full of crap. Then I’d get him out of bed and get the day started.

Wife: For five years you kept it up.

Me: Right up ’til the last day.

 

Baby Boomer Self-Talk

Self-talk is either positive or negative.

There’s no in-between for the sake of this blog post.

What would random self-talk even sound like?

Wife: I’m feeling a little down.

Me: It’s the weather and being stuck inside and afraid to go out and fall on the ice.

Wife: That’s probably the root of my negative self-talk.

Me: What’s that sound like?

Wife: I feel dull and lifeless.

Me: That doesn’t sound good. Maybe it’s not the weather? Could it be your husband?

Wife: Maybe.

Me: Do you hear a voice telling you to kill him in his sleep?

Wife: No.

Me: But if you did, would it say use a gun, or a knife, or a pillow?

Wife: Those are all too messy. I’d probably use poison. Or an overdose like death with dignity.

Me: Have you looked at the cost of assisted suicide?

Wife: I wouldn’t need any assistance.

Me: See, now you’re feeling better. Let’s change the old self-talk into something new.

Wife: Like what?

Me: Like our Cannon Beach getaway.

Wife: That was nice.

Me: And we got home before the ice and snow left us in a ditch to freeze to death.

Wife: This is suppose to be helpful?

Me: Come over here and say that with a big smooch.

 

The Science Of Self-Talk

Hit this link for science blogs.

This isn’t one, but after a lifetime of sucking at many things, I believe it is scientifically impossible to suck at everything.

But, if you feel like you suck at everything you haven’t gone far enough.

I read this yesterday:

 

It’s amazing how much rotten luck your bad luck has saved you from.

 

 

For me when I’m feeling down, the turning point starts with a list.

Yes, Elaine, a list. I start at the beginning:

My parents seemed to find more happiness in their second marriages, but I’m more happily married now than they ever were.

And I’ve been married longer than any of them.

I like to think my marriage has been a good example for my kids in their married life.

 

Me: Do you remember Mom calling the cops on me at home?

Kids: No.

Me: Then before you do something your wives might call the cops on you for, call me first.

Kids: Why, so you could turn our problems into blog posts.

Me:

 

What Works Best For Me, Maybe You Too

Find something to do that’s useful yet boring as hell.

Lifting weights does it for me.

Running used to do it.

I know it’s all beneficial, but is it worth the effort?

That’s the question during warm-ups.

If everything clicks, not shoulders and knees specifically, but if your body feels reasonably sound during warming up, the self-talk takes a turn upward.

“I’ll lift light with more reps,” turns into, “Man, if this takes the kink out of my back I’ll go longer and heavier.”

Once the athlete brain kicks in you hear, ‘If it’s going this well on the incline bench I’ll go flat bench and load up.’

Then I start feeling warmer, a little sticky, and my mind kicks in with, ‘I can do this and not break something and drop the bar on my neck and choke to death. Not today.’

You start off doubtful and out of sorts until you go through a few sets of bench, triceps, body weight squats, and trunk rotations for the hips.

By the third time around you’re feeling a pump, breaking a sweat, and clearing the fog.

You could quit there and you’d be better off than when you started, but the athlete brain says, “There’s someone somewhere doing the same thing but doing it better.’

Quit now?

Inconceivable.

You know what to do and where to go. Call it an unexpected self-talk surprise.

The next workout brings the same surprise, so look forward to it.

Attack the bar and bend it in half.

On GO.