Yesterday I finished listening to The Myth of Normal by Dr Gabor Mate (with an accent that I can’t figure out how to do on this keyboard) and the feeling, upon finishing, was that of being hugged. It is by no means a touchy-feely read by any stretch of the imagination. It is a sobering and piercing narrative of how we have normalized excruciating levels of stress on our bodies and are caught in a trap of chronic disease, societal breakdown and lack of meaningful connection with all the things that matter.
Like I said, not touchy-feely.
It was hard to listen to at times, and in truth, it’s taken me about a year to finish this 14-odd hour epic. Namely because my life has been ironically; very stressful up until the past three months or so.
I say I feel like I was hugged because it was a crystallization of lots of thoughts and concerns I’ve been observing within myself lately. Overall, I don’t consider myself to be someone that attracts or creates drama. I wouldn’t have even considered myself to be stressed; but these last few months have enabled me space to consider otherwise.
12 months ago my life was a total mess. I was on the edge of a breakthrough, I reshaping, a rebirth in every area of my life and fuck, it was a catastrophe. Toxic bachelors, intensely dysfunctional room mates, a difficult financial situation, a business needing to shift - all big life areas (work, love, financial). I was in the upper echelons of fight or flight for weeks. As a result of the load my body was carrying, I got sick and it took me weeks to recover. I had to move back in with my parents for a couple of months until it was safe for me to be on my own again. It was a harrowing time.
And now, my life has completely turned around. My business has taken the shift it needed and is thriving, I am back to living solo again and having a home environment that nourishes me, I have total autonomy over my life choices, I an intentionally single whilst I really dig deep into who I am and what I need. I eat a plant-based, mostly GF diet. I don’t consume excessive amounts of sugar or alcohol. I read. I get good sleep. I see a therapist. I am fit and healthy.
So, how can it be that I am still stressed? A psychic, a GP and an acupuncturist all have told me that I am stressed. All in the last three months. One of them even used the word anxious which I have patently denied ever having been. Indeed, my body is so fucked up at the moment (my version of fucked up) that it is also telling me. But - how? Of all my friends (who have hordes of children between them, going through divorces, working in exhausting jobs) I carry the least stress.
I know, I know; there are eleventy different ways of defining stress but I am genuinely offended with life and with myself that given the IDEAL state my life is now in, I am still manifesting signs of chronic stress.
Enter, The Myth of Normal.
Summary: What has been normalized in our modern lives includes stress levels that kick the body into fight or flight (instead of a healing state), constant fatigue, the obsession with productivity and being so time poor we don’t have the space to see that any of us are in this position and what we can do to get out of it. E
Even more disturbing is what has been de-normalized (and this really makes me weep, now that I realise it); slow mornings, resting, time in nature, not being busy, spending time alone (and this being completely acceptable), having periods of low or non-productivity, not spending money as a status symbol, choosing to honor the bodies needs and so on.
We have normalised a world that is totally unsustainable. Even though my life is wildly less stressful than the average 44 year olds; its still considered stressful. That is totally fucked.
But before I go ahead and finish this story with some laconic plea to do some more hygge shit; let me also say that the internal narrative that I live my life by is what I consider to be the real demon here. Up until recently, I haven’t realised that I have am rarely present in any part of my day. We have all heard the petitions to be more present but what we hear less of is the damning and captivating internal narratives that can make this almost impossible.
My internal narrative, whilst again, on the whole has some decided positive aspects, is downright suffocating. Although I have largely a positive self-esteem, I struggle with a deep sense of not being worthy. I have been humbled to realise that I still crave the approval and validation that my child-self didn’t get. I still behave as though my value is outside of myself. Ugh. Introspection is dark and nightmarish, at times.
This lack of self-worth is a motivation like no other. Firstly, it hasn’t been evident to me so I am driven by a powerful force that has resided in my subconscious. Secondly, it has been happening since I was a child and is now a physiological and psychological habit. Like being unable to remember the colour the walls are painted in my house, I can’t see these deeply embedded ways of being. Until now. Until I’ve had nowhere else to look but within.
A damning internal narrative has driven me to push myself to extraordinary lengths to be approved (by myself and by others). I haven’t believed it’s possible for me to be present in my days because there’s always one step ahead I need to be. Something I need to plan for. Some extra thing I need to do. Just hearing these dark messages from my internal judge and jury makes me weep with exhaustion. Also, with empathy for all the experiences I’ve put my past self through. God, I’ve enabled some toxicity that has turned to trauma many times over.
And the normalisation of the off-the-charts stress that we live in has exploited this self-flagellating approach to life I have charted from the inside out.
In stabilising my life, extracting myself from ‘normal’ rhythms, and really allowing myself to heal and observe habits; I have been able to see that I have not been kind to myself. And that may not necessarily have been my fault. If I didn’t get what I needed in childhood or if overarching messages suppressed those needs; I am simply going to continue on with that messaging until something interrupts it.
Being conscious of how you talk to yourself is a hard thing in that it happens all day long and we have 60,000 thoughts (on average) each day. But I have found that the more I am aware of my internal drivers (deep ones, not superficial ones like annual goals) I’ve been able to intercept and reverse the narrative with relative ease. I am not willing to continue living with such a high degree of internal stress and that willingness has probably led me back to finishing The Myth of Normal.
As with all of his books, Dr Gabor finishes on profound and achievable modalities to change and to heal. The last section is called ‘Pathways to Wholeness’ and right now, I can think of no other pathway I would like to be well on my way along.
Thats why it felt like a hug.