Try This Instead…

Sometimes, you just want to be told why you do the things you do, and what to do instead. “Try This Instead” is self-help that doesn’t s*ck — it’s an advice column written by me, Sam Dylan Finch, a neurodivergent writer and lived experience advocate who’s passionate about sharing what I’ve learned.

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Hey Sam! I struggle with anxiety and depression and I have for years. I’ve noticed that sometimes, when I’m at a low point, I’ll get sucked into listening to sad music, revisiting sad memories through photos, watching sad movies, and basically making myself worse. I know that it doesn’t help, but it’s almost like a compulsion… or maybe emotional self-harm? What’s wrong with me?

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Let’s start with what I think is a pretty important disclaimer: Not knowing your particular history, I can’t say with any certainty what drives you to cope in a particular way. Having a blog, and a lot of lived experience of mental health struggles, doesn’t make me a mind reader!

You are the expert on your experience, so only you can know what resonates (and please take the rest with a grain of salt!).

I can, however, remark on my own experiences and observations. Hopefully that will give you some food for thought. Bonus points if those thoughts are then shared with a therapist!

I want to validate this for you upfront: If you feel that this is emotional self-harm? That’s a valid way to feel!

But like any other form of self-harm… it’s really just a coping mechanism, and what makes it harmful is whether or not it’s truly supportive in the long-term, or if it has consequences that you do not find manageable or livable.

From your question, it sounds like it makes things worse in a way you don’t like! So it may be helpful to view this through the neutral lens of a coping tool that has gone awry — and that’s how I’ll unpack this question from here.

For what it’s worth, I used to do this a lot myself!

For many years, you could find me listening to angsty music that reminded me of toxic exes; reading old, despairing diary entries; or camped out on my couch, watching really triggering shows on an endless loop.

As you’ve probably noticed, it doesn’t always lead to the release we’re maybe hoping for — and in some cases, it can feel like we’re more stuck.

So why did I keep engaging in this? I personally believe that we don’t do things for “no reason,” so it must be serving us in some way, even if it’s becoming more and more problematic.

These are my theories for why I personally was “making myself sad,” and what you might consider trying instead.

I was trying (and struggling) to feel my feelings.

This is the number one reason I was “making myself sad” and it took years for me to realize this.

I simply did not know how else to access my emotions, so I essentially coaxed them out of hiding.

I’m a bit of an intellectualizer, so I often mistook thinking about the situations that upset me and trying to reason my way through them as being the exact same thing as actually feeling my feelings, and moving through my emotions.

But in actuality, theorizing about emotions and trauma isn’t the same as processing them in the body.

And until I learned how to do that, I was probably going to keep trying to get myself to feel — that’s a healing instinct, and that’s a good thing! — just to cut myself off the moment I started to get overwhelmed or flooded.

Try this instead…

How are you taking care of yourself during this experience?

Is it possible to take periodic breaks to check in with your body, engaging in something like self-massage, having a warm and comforting beverage, or paying close attention to any sensations that come up for you in your body?

If we trigger ourselves but then check out so much that we don’t move through those emotions, it makes sense that we might get stuck here!

(If this is interesting to you from a therapeutic standpoint, I bet you’d be really into somatics.)

The depression and discomfort was familiar — so I mistook it for safety.

While depression isn’t an ideal state to be in, it’s not necessarily full of surprises, either.

I had a therapist once tell me that people who are dealing with depression can sometimes feel drawn to it, even unconsciously, because its familiarity and predictability feels safe.

It makes sense, then, that we might engage in activities that sustain our sadness or keep us numb; we might feel afraid of the unpredictability that comes with doing something differently (I touch on this in my article about self-sabotage as well!).

Try this instead…

In my experience, we will step out of the familiar and toward the discomfort that helps us grow and heal when we’re supported in doing so.

If you are returning to a painful but predictable misery, it’s not because you’re unintelligent or not trying hard enough. Chances are, you just don’t have what you need to practice doing things differently.

I find that when we’re in this space, we need to come back to basics. Are you eating enough? Sleeping enough? Connecting with others? Sharing your feelings with a trusted person? Showering once in a while, to ensure you still feel human?

And if even the basics still feel impossible, that’s information about the level of support you might need — and it’s definitely time to call in the professionals.

I had unresolved trauma that I was attempting to process. 

Sometimes we force ourselves to relive the pain we’ve experienced because it’s unresolved.

For me, I found that I was sometimes triggering myself because I wasn’t really confronting my trauma — I was sort of just flooding myself, maybe because unconsciously I thought that it might finally push me to fully deal with it.

We might also make ourselves feel pain because we’re trying to re-experience it, but with a different outcome, or with the hopes that we’ll unlock some kind of epiphany or realization to help things feel more conclusive or sensible.

In a way, our brains are saying, “Hey! We have unfinished business here!” But we may not be equipped to respond helpfully right now, and that makes a lot of sense — most of us aren’t taught how to heal after trauma.

Try this instead…

If your strolls down memory lane have become compulsive, triggering, and/or intrusive, it might be best to seek out a therapist or other healing professional that can help you process your pain in a more helpful way!

I needed to feel understood, validated, and seen. 

Everyone wants their pain to be recognized and affirmed.

We might seek this out by looking for representation in music, television shows, movies. I used to watch every TV show I could find that featured a PTSD survivor or someone with an eating disorder, because I wanted to know I wasn’t alone.

I especially wanted to see someone “overcome” that struggle so I could live vicariously through them.

I mean, you’re reading this article now. And you might have had a moment already of, “Wow, this is so me.” It’s a validating feeling, right?

It makes a lot of sense, then, that we might subject ourselves to content that’s triggering with the hopes that it’ll make us feel validated, even if that validation is accompanied by pain.

Try this instead…

If you’re seeking validation from the media you’re consuming, that may not inherently be a bad thing, but if it makes you miserable, you might want to consider seeking out connection rather than just validation.

Is there someone you can share your experience with, to get the kind of affirmation and validation that your media isn’t able to provide? Maybe there’s a support group in your area specific to your situation that would help, or an online group for peers to support each other.

I didn’t have the tools that I needed to cope another way.

When we gravitate toward less ideal coping mechanisms, we’re often doing this because we don’t have better alternatives in place.

I was most likely to seek out my triggers when I was already vulnerable — when I didn’t have a therapist or coach to help me make sense of things, when I was isolated from my support systems, when I wasn’t eating enough or sleeping enough, or even on the anniversary of a past trauma or difficult chapter.

Try this instead…

I would ask yourself what small steps you can take to build a more robust support system.

Sometimes that’s just a text message to a friend that says, “I’m so sorry I’ve been MIA — just going through a tough time and self-isolating. I’d love to check in and hear how you’ve been. Catch up soon?”

Or maybe you’re ready to take the step to work with a therapist and seek out a support group! I know this can feel like trite advice, but I offer it as a gentle reminder that there are people out there who will understand what you’re going through.

Either way, I’d also consider making a list of ways you can self-soothe that don’t involve triggering yourself, ideally so you have replacement options, but if not, so you can practice some “aftercare” after you’ve engaged with the triggering thing.

These soothing tools don’t necessarily need to make you jump for joy, but even if it’s just turning the dial back from Intolerable Despair to Mild Sadness, that’s still a win and a way of signaling to your body that you’re still safe and taken care of.

You might create a “chaser playlist” for after the sad bops, or bookmark your favorite standup comedy routine on YouTube. Just make sure it’s easily accessible for those moments when you’re running low on energy.

Here’s the good news: I think you’re trying to work through something, and that instinct to process and heal is a positive one.

Consider this: Maybe you’re not just making yourself sad — maybe you’re trying to make yourself feel, which is always the first step in healing.

Sometimes we just don’t have the support, skills, or emotional resourcing to get ourselves through that process, so we opt for the coping tools we’re used to.

It sounds like this is a tool you’ve reached for really often, and I don’t doubt that even though you feel worse in the moment, you might be able to process this stuff more effectively with support overtime!

And remember: Please be gentle with yourself! 

Rather than treating this as something that’s “wrong” with you, look at it as information. Your body and mind are trying to work through something, and you’re doing that the best way you know how.

I know it’s easy to slip into the whole, “What the hell is wrong with me?” mentality. But what I’ve found to be true is that there’s always some form of method to our madness — or in this case, sadness.

With love,

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