In the tiny space between stimulus and response

On another journey to “rewire” my brain for my kids

I am the type of person who assumes, extrapolates, and becomes anxious, reading between the lines and squinting into the murk to over analyze this gesture or that word. But somehow, I never “get it right” and end up annoying or angering someone in a way that was completely unexpected. Or, it would literally have meant nothing, and I’d have agonized for hours, if not days, for no reason.

The slot machine-like nature of these interactions (because I honestly can’t read what’s “real” and what’s perceived) heightens my social anxiety, exhausts me, and tempts me to retreat into my cave, cutting off all communication with the outside world.

A book I am currently reading mentioned the author’s yoga practice that changed his life (along with therapy and drugs), where he was taught that there is a small space between the stimulus (event, something someone said, an impulse, a trigger) and the response you provide. Most of the time, the trigger-to-response chain is almost instantaneous and automatic, snapping back angry words or getting upset.

But he realized that in between those two chains, there is a small space where you can decide how you want to respond to the stimulus, which will then change the outcome of the situation. The key was to strengthen the ability to sit in that tiny space to make a mindful decision instead of allowing impulses or ingrained habits to choose your response for you.

I’m not a yoga person (I tried for years), but after the feeling of relief and mind clarity I felt after deleting my Twitter app last week, this thought process really stuck with me. For the past few days, when someone said something to me that hurt, or I wondered what they meant by that, I took a moment to think to myself about that tiny space between the input and output, and instead of marinating on the upset, tried to cut the rumination there and move on.

Being the brooding type, a little snag will drag me down for a long time, but by visualizing cutting the string of upset in my mind with a scissor, and not allowing myself the indulgence of an outburst, I feel like I have been able to move on and continue with my days smoother.

Next step is being able to do similarly with things I did or didn’t do, apologize or explain promptly, and move on. Life is too short and I am too busy to drag along past (mostly imagined?) transgressions that would honestly be better served by utilizing the same energy and time to improving myself as a human and interacting better with the world instead.

I wonder if “neurotypical” people can do this process naturally, without becoming overburdened by the anxiety and time suck that is overanalyzing every encounter (and still not “getting it right”).

The amount of energy it takes for me to have a social encounter (and the endless regrets I have afterwards about something I did or didn’t say) makes socializing an extremely load-heavy activity for me.

And yet… I crave the social interactions, hoping the next one will be the miracle unicorn where I come away feeling energized and fulfilled, satisfied with the few hours, feeling like I didn’t upset anyone involved. (Writing this, I sound like someone with a toxic relationship with drugs or bad boyfriends, looking for that next high despite the odds being very bad…)

To have the social interactions I want, and more importantly, to provide my children with the social safety net and connections I want for them, I need to change the way I tackle the social anxiety. Before kids, I could have taken the option to become a hermit (to be honest, that’s the route I did take when I turned 30). But I no longer feel that hermiting is an option in order to help my kids not grow up with the same (perceived) social ineptitude I still suffer with in my adulthood.

So here I am, in my mid 30s, trying to rewire my brain, one social media app, one social interaction at a time…

Breathe in… Stop the breath… 3, 2, 1… Breathe out…