You’re familiar with how the mind conjures up scenarios, right? Well, I found myself scripting a drama, all because I listened to that negative inner voice.
I’ve been diligently working on improving mobility in my new knee that I received on December 11th —engaging in exercises and attending physical therapy two to three times a week. Whether standing, where I’m constantly lunging, squatting, or doing tip toes, or sitting, where I’m diligently stretching, icing, and tightening, I’ve been on it consistently. My bend is at 110, and the physical therapist assured me that I was in the middle of the road compared to others on a similar journey. However, online forums suggested that individuals in my position were often headed for a manipulation. This procedure involves the surgeon putting you under anesthesia to manipulate the knee extensively, breaking up scar tissue, followed by intensive daily therapy for several weeks.
I crafted a narrative for myself, generating numerous reasons why I couldn’t undergo such a process. I pushed myself even harder in my exercises, desperately avoiding the prospect of reaching that point. I urged the physical therapist to intensify the sessions, and the result was a newfound pain. Armed with excuses, I prepared to argue with my surgeon—I couldn’t undergo anesthesia due to past pancreas issues, I couldn’t spare the time for daily therapy, and so on. I was working myself into a state of anxiety. A downright tizzy, if I do say so myself.
So, there I am, sitting in the examination room, rehearsing my Hollywood-worthy speech. Stretching, pleading with my knee to surpass the 110 mark. The surgeon walks in casually. I enthusiastically recount my progress, pancreas issues excluded, and provide updates on my physical therapy. He inspects my knee, mentioning the need to clip a stitch and a stubborn scab. As I wince, I proceed to fire off my questions. Can I travel on an airplane? Can I get a massage? Should I continue with the icing routine? And then, anxiously, I inquire about the possibility of a manipulation. He looks at me with a sidelong smirk, revealing that he rarely performs those, especially considering my bend is at a commendable 110. He shares stories of patients coming in with significantly lower bends, putting my worries into perspective.
And I realized that negative inner voice had been a BIG FAT LIAR.
The negative inner voice, often referred to as the inner critic, can be an insidious presence in our minds, weaving self-doubt, fear, and unworthiness. It’s crucial to recognize that this internal narrative is not a reliable narrator of our true capabilities, worth, or potential. In fact, many psychologists and mental health experts emphasize that the negative inner voice is essentially a big fat liar, and I was listening to it the last few days.
Counteracting the negative inner voice involves cultivating self-awareness and practicing self-compassion. Recognizing when this inner critic emerges and challenging its validity is a crucial step toward reclaiming a healthier mindset. Reframing negative thoughts, acknowledging accomplishments, and practicing positive affirmations are effective strategies to silence the inner critic and replace its lies with a more empowering narrative.
Ultimately, understanding that the negative inner voice is a big fat liar allows us to take control of our thoughts. And not exhaust yourself memorizing Oscar award winning speeches you’ll never have to give.
I believe in you,
Kristy Robinett
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