The barriers of extreme – learning that there’s middle ground in mental illness (or any) recovery

A kawaii style waterfall scene with a rockpool

I’ve realised that recovery from mental illness involves a lot of learning – learning to listen, learning to change. and most importantly, learning to reflect. To partially quote Ren in their EPIC single ‘Hi Ren’, ‘There were no real losers in psychological warfare, but there were victims and there were students‘. Changing habits I’ve been conditioned to normalise is never easy, but as someone with a personality disorder, many of my habits are more like unhealthy addictions, and removing them from my brain has been a challenge every time. I’m a student of my own psychological warfare…I hope.

Besides my unsurprising addiction to nicotine (I’ve been a vaper now for about a decade) and self-hate (I’ve been a hater now for about 4 decades), I also have a very common but lesser discussed addiction.

Hi, I’m Steph, and I’m a catastropholic (made up word, still like it). In other words…I’m addicted to looking for and obsessing about the worst case scenario.

Many years ago, when I first started talking about my mental health publicly, I discussed the unusual levels of paranoia I experience, and how that paranoia can become unmanageable and dangerous when I’m stressed, angry or upset. Those diagnosed with EUPD (emotionally unstable personality disorder) or BPD (borderline personality disorder) will be familiar with catastrophising and experiencing difficulty believing any outcome is possible other than the worst one. This behaviour can sometimes be misunderstood as begging for attention or being melodramatic, but these labels are usually wrong, and failure to recognise a persons very real fear of catastrophes is a definite barrier to helping them see other possibilities and manage better. For example, I’ve been told to ‘stop exaggerating; it probably won’t come to that, and you know it.’ when I genuinely believe that a terrible situation is chugging towards me on the misery express. In this example, rather than having the opportunity to have a balanced conversation with someone who seemed empathetic, I chose to clam up instead, believing this person was more judgemental than caring and wouldn’t understand the thoughts I’m having even if I tried to explain them.

Being isolated with this kind of paranoia is the favoured breeding ground for anxiety, and it balloons like Mentos dropped in a cola bottle.

No one understands my worry, the situation is therefore even worse than I imagined, I’m going to think about this some more. Maybe it could get worse because X is possible, how will I cope if X happens? I can’t cope with X. In fact, X would be a disaster, but karma/bad luck has always applied to me, so X is actually the likely outcome.

Without the opportunity to talk about ‘X’, my mind spirals into a frenzy of paranoia. Sleepless nights are fed by the anxiety, and my tired mind allows the worst thoughts to fester. I start to believe outcomes to my worry will be terrible, life altering, painful, impossible to overcome, and so I start to disengage with the world as a way of coping. I stop talking because no one understands. I stop writing, drawing, having fun, engaging with family and friends, finding time for self care, and my time spent alone becomes something I believe I deserve.

Loneliness and worry are excellent at multiplying each others parts. It’s a difficult spiral to escape from…but it’s still possible.

Karmic retribution

The beauty of karma is that it’s supposed to be about a balance of good and bad. I misinterperate that to mean ONLY that my negative actions have an equal and opposite reaction that is aimed at the me too. If, like me, you lived an earier life that was less than perfect, or, like me, you’ve been through trauma that you tend to blame yourself for (regardless of the truth, involvement of other parties, or inevitability of the event/s) then you’ll probably find it as easy as I do to believe that your deserved karma is lurking around every corner.

Yes, I’m ashamed to say I made mistakes in the past that I’ll always regret. I chose the wrong man, forgot the friend who cared, neglected family in favour of fun, and skipped a lot of school because I believed there was much more excitement outside of the immature kids on the playground (in some cases I was right). I also went through horrible traumas that I think about often, and blame myself for repeatedly. Miscarrying multiple times and losing our first daughter in the second trimester are events I blame my own body for. The fear and sadness in my childhood home was the main reason I spent so much time trying to escape, but that meant I left my mum to deal with everything I left behind. All this regret, and much more, still haunts me today.

For this and many more mistakes, misadventures, and missed opportunities, I believe karma is waiting.

I deserve the payback, right?

But what about the things I got right? What about the times I helped friends in need, the days and nights I provided carer support for nothing but love, the courage I found in the moments I felt afraid, the protection I offered people who needed a confidant? I know I didn’t always get it right, but I didn’t always get it wrong either. Where is the positive reinforcement? Why can’t I believe in good future outcomes in return for good deeds passed?

Karmic retribution works in both ways. In religions such as Buddhism and Hinduism where this universal principal of cause and effect is followed completely, unwholesome actions are said to lead to negative outcomes and, conversely, wholesome actions are said to lead to positive outcomes. It’s a balance.

For those of us who aren’t following the rules of karma religiously and live with an ability to catastrophise in order to fuel anxiety, this principal of cause and effect exists only as a tool to batter ourselves with, never as a way of feeling pride or having hope.

In light of all this, blaming karma for my paranoia when I’m only following one side of the rules seems pretty unbalanced and, in some ways, disrespectful.

But if it’s not karma…why?

Catastrophising vs. reality

I spoke to a therapist recently, trying my best to explain the fatigue this rollercoaster is causing. Brief moments of quiet are broken by massive let downs and upset, and my stomach is always fragile after repeatedly falling from the summit of those imagined mountainous peaks. The climb is sudden and fast, the pause at the top is prolonged and painful, and the fall back to ‘normality’ is usually fast, welcome, sleepy and over in a heartbeat as the next mountain is never far away.

Having spent years wrestling with these looming catastrophies I had a breakthrough. What if extreme outcomes aren’t the only possibility? What if, and hear me out here, there is a middle ground where the outcome is just…mundane? Liveable? Run-of-the-mill?

In my 44 years on the planet I can’t think of a time where I believed the worst wouldn’t happen. It’s always been all or nothing, but my therapist helped me understand I have genuine reasons for creating this belief system. Past difficult events have often gone horribly wrong, and the outcome was awful, usually morphing something planned to be good as a new trauma to survive. Many of those events I’ve mentioned above. But amongst all the bad results are a shit-tonne of regular results (and yes, a few positive results too) that have been lost in the sands of time, along with my ability to reason with myself in a balanced way.

From ‘What if’ to ‘What is’…

Clinical Psychologist Meg Jay, a PhD working as Associate Professor in the University of Virginia, wrote an excellent example of this situation in Harvard Business Review. Her report titled ‘What to do when your mind (always) dwells on the worst-case scenario’ has valuable ways of managing catastrophising and talks about changing ‘What if’ to ‘What is’.

As the person in her report says, ‘fears aren’t facts’. Our dwelling on what might be is based fully on internal conjecture because it hasn’t happened.

In her own example, Dr. Jay meets with a student convinced they’ve failed their recent exam. She suggested to her patient that they explain their worst case scenario, and gives them freedom to vocalise their biggest fears. 1. failing the test, 2. failing medical school, 3. failing their parents. After their mind had run away with itself negatively, Dr. Jay asked the patient to do the same positively. What is their best case scenario? In the end this meant future success for the patient. High earnings, good status, positive outcomes.

After explaining these are 2 extremes based on ‘What if’s’, Dr. Jay goes on to tell us that the usual outcome exists somewhere in the grey between best and worst. Our fight or flight systems are working overtime telling us the worst is coming, catastrophising to such an extreme level that we convince ourselves it’s not just possible, but likely. We completely ignore that the opposite is also possible, and so is the grey, mundane, normal outcome that is statistically the place we should put our money.

Applying ‘What is’ to recovery

So, I’ve learned that I’m catastrophising and that the worst-case scenario isn’t the only outcome possible. I’ve learned that these thoughts are imagined and I should base my wanderings on the more likely middle-ground rather than the unsettling terrible events I’m creating in my mind. But I’m only starting my recovery journey now, and it’s not linear at all. So what changes can I apply to my thinking patterns when I feel my false karmic mind creeping back and starting to make assumptions?

  1. What the therapist says – Distract, distract, distract. Until I have psychological interventions to change my thought patterns permanently and help me to live with the trauma that haunts me, I have to find ways of distracting myself when these thoughts become overwhelming again. Though I hope it won’t happen, it’s better to plan and not need the tools, than to once again find myself stranded on Paranoia Island in the middle of the night.
    My distractions include podcasts I engage with using headphones that block out external noise. Writing a diary entry or article I can become engrossed in, researching useful facts and finding out new methods of coping, just like this one. Reading a real page-turner that’s positive, knowledgeable and/or funny. Watching travel programmes and being engrossed in parts of the world I’d love to visit. If all else fails I also have medication I can take to reduce my anxiety on the spot, but I prefer non-medical interventions where possible. I already take a lot of pills throughout the day.
  2. Reframing – If I can’t avoid the catastrophising, then I can try to reframe the thoughts, but it takes practice. I start by identifying the terrible event I’m creating in my mind. Then I have to challenge the thought, just like Dr. Jay’s patient, asking myself what the evidence is to support this outcome. What has happened in similar past situations? What are the events leading to this catastrophe? These facts should help me consider the outcome in a balanced way using real events rather than those I’ve imagined, which is the final step; reframing. After considering the facts I have, I can try to look at the alternative outcomes that are possible outside of the negative ones I am assuming are correct. Some will be positive, some will be grey, but I find that writing them down helps me concentrate on the possibilities and negotiate with the negative noise I’m used to.
  3. Positive affirmations – Again, going back to the words of my therapist, sometimes it feels like the way I talk to myself is negative and often very harsh. If someone spoke to my daughter the way I speak to Me, how would I feel? It’s therefore important to start adding a positive narrative to my thoughts. When all I hear is doubt, fear and anger, it’s impossible to feel any other way. In the USA in 2014 an experiment was completed covering the use of self affirmation in non-clinical paranoia (published on the National Library of Medicine website). In the study a group of students were tested for their paranoia levels both before and after using positive self affirmations. The conclusion showed that ‘findings suggest that self affirmation is effective in reducing state paranoia in a non-clinical sample‘. It’s also suggested in multiple places online that using affirmations can challenge negative thought patterns, increase self worth and even promote a more grounded and realistic perspective. So, although it’s clear this idea might not work for everyone, maybe talking positively to myself could provoke me to think differently about any given situation. Specific affirmations will vary depending on the situation, but for my catastrophising general reminders that ‘I am safe‘, ‘not every situation is a threat to me or my family‘ and ‘I deserve peace‘ are suggestions I’ve found.
  4. Journaling – Sometimes I tell myself that keeping a diary is nothing more than a task I don’t have time for, but journaling is a helpful way of unpacking the events of my day, taking time to do something creative, distracting and soothing, and (importantly) recording the outcomes of events as they happen. This should help me reframe my thoughts when similar things happen in the future. By having a record I can reference my own experiences and, hopefully, find it easier to believe the possibility of grey or even positive outcomes to future challenges too.

In conclusion

Although my level of catastrophising is high, it’s clear that this anxiety level is reaching other people as fast as the pandemic. People aren’t kind to themselves, and it’s a problem that fuels itself, making it hard, but not impossible, to overcome. Although these habits have become my norm, I have to hope that a time will come where I can think differently and not panic about ‘what if’s’, leaving myself in mental and physical pain. I hope the ideas above will help on that road to the mundane.

Saying that, as with every recovery I discuss on this blog, I genuinely believe that I won’t get to the other side without trained professionals helping me. It’s an important part of the process. So, if you or someone you care for needs support with their mental health then please contact a trained medical professional for specific advice as soon as possible. You can also find a list of mental health and suicide prevention support contacts on this website for additional help and advice.

Be kind to yourself. Here’s to a healthier, happier 2026. Thanks for visiting.

Published by stephc2021

Hi! I'm Steph, an amateur writer and illustrator specialising in Mental Health and being a self-confessed Spoonie. I help others by publishing creative ideas to help support chronic pain and mental illness, and I write a blog about my own experiences with disability and mental illness. In 2023 I was nominated twice for a Kent Mental Health and Well-being Award from the national mental health charity Mind.

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