More specifically, I've been thinking about that voice in your head that tell you when you've done something wrong. Not your conscience, or rather not just your conscience – this little guy/gal speaks up when it thinks you've made any kind of mistake, whether it's a question you got wrong on a french test or a breach of social etiquette. Everyone has one of these, like a sniper sight that makes little red dots pop up over things when we employ critical thinking. It critiques other people, too, but my thoughts are mainly directed at how it monitors what you says and do and how if left unchecked it can develop into a generator of self-loathing.
This voice – let's call him
Because he's doing such good work, you end up letting him advise you on more things. How do you look today? Does your new haircut work with this shirt? Did you like that movie?
Thing is, Clom's not an artistic fellow. He can't really answer certain kinds of subjective questions – he knows that is the wrong spelling of "there" to use in a particular sentence, but he hasn't got a clue whether your hair looks nice curly or not. Clom only knows when things are wrong. He can't fix them, he can't figure out what to do to change things, and most of all, he can't accept things. But he's a massive know-it-all, so he'll lie his way through it the only way he knows how: "You look terrible. Your haircut doesn't work with your shirt, or your jeans for that matter. That movie had a flaw and it was a waste of money."
This makes you sad, but Clom's very smart and you trust his judgement. Other parts of your brain – constructive, artistic, creative parts – try to figure out what to do with these observations. Put on some make-up or pull back your hair? Clom still thinks you look terrible. Wear a different shirt and jeans? Clom doesn't like those either. Rewatch a movie you love? Ah, but Clom sees flaws in that too.
The more power you give to Clom, to your critical side, the harder you make it for yourself to enjoy life. Nothing is perfect and he just can't accept that. While he's right that So&So is a boring character, it doesn't actually ruin the whole movie. Most of you loves this scene, but Clom is being loud and obnoxious and going on about how this and that don't work and ruining it for the rest of you. On top of that, the more duties of judging that Clom takes on, the less thought he puts into it. It won't be, "That word is spelt wrong", it will be, "You suck at spelling. You're an idiot. Don't hand in this stupid essay, it's wrong."
Soon enough, you'll ask him whether you should wear a green or a blue shirt to work and he'll just reply, "YOUR SHIRTS SUCK AND YOU SUCK AND THE WORLD SUCK AND EVERYTHING IS AWFUL AND BAD!" A part of you – at this point a very powerful part of you – will give up and just hate everything and everyone, including yourself. Everything you do is accompanied by Clom saying that it was wrong, that it was bad, that you shouldn't have done that and why don't you just lie in bed because then you won't be wandering around being a miserable failure. Every so often he'll give you a hard time for doing that too, but that's mostly when you actually get up and walk around. You become effectively paralysed, spending as much time as you can just lying still trying not to be so wrong.
It's become pretty obvious at this point that Clom has mutated into a complete monster, but them you think back to the whole "Rise and Fall of Ancient Rum" incident and figure he was right then so he's probably right now. Every time someone points out a mistake you made just seems to confirm that Clom is right, and then people wonder why on earth you're getting so upset about such a little thing. It's because of Clom. Fucking Clom, guys. What a douche.
I've been reading the Calming Manatee blog (2) all day, so I think I should follow up all this oddly-phrased psychological analysis with some kind of advice? So, if you feel you are in the later stages of Clom-paralysis, ask for help. Talk to your parents about it, reach out to your friends and explain that you've been having issues (it's called depression, by the way, not Clom-paralysis. I'm just a geeky Whovian), and (I cannot stress this one enough) go to the doctor. Talk to you GP or a counsellor if one is provided at your school or workplace, but go, talk about your feelings and be honest. Actually, that's the thing I can't stress enough. Be honest with your doctor or counselor: they are healthcare professionals. I was really insecure about being diagnosed with anything (3) and so I lied to my school counselor for ages, and it put off my recovery from depression for years.
If your personal Clom is making it hard for you to do something, like paint a picture or write a book, I have a simple, one step plan for you. I'll allow Mr Hulk to demonstrate.
Simply put, tell your critical side to STFU. Ignore it and just keep doing what you are doing. Chances are it will be a beautiful painting or an awesome novel, but even if it's not great it's still a step in the right direction. All obsessive nitpicking will get you is half a first chapter and low self-esteem. Once you've done your first draft, if it's a novel, or your first sketch or whatever, let yourself find things to fix. Then stuff your critical side back into its box and start your second draft, using that knowledge to focus your creativity and editing. Repeat as needed, but never let your critical side out when you are creating. All it will do is get in the way and make it hard to move forward.
Those are my thoughts about thoughts. If you are reading this, just remember that making a mistake doesn't make you a failure or a bad person, and don't let Clom define who you are.
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(1) Well, it would be hilarious but you know what I mean.
(2) Calming Manatee also likes Supernatural and The Avengers. This is awesome.
(3) I was frequently accused of being 'retarded' or 'brain-damaged' by other students during my school years, and I thought admitting I had problems to the counselor would mean they were right. Obviously, it doesn't. Everyone has issues, and sometimes we need help handling them. Having depression is like having the flu, and there's no shame in asking a doctor how to treat it.
