I Named My Inner Critic "Bitch Monkey"

Here's how I'm winning over it

Two years ago, I would wake up with the morning light around 6am and a horrible voice would immediately kick off in my head.

“You’re doomed.”

“You’re so fucked because of your illness.”

“You’ll never amount to anything.”

“Who knows what will become of you.”

Once the voice woke up, there was no going back to sleep.

At the time I was struggling with chronic fatigue brought on by long covid. I was at the beginning of a therapeutic journey. It was in the initial phase where things became unsettled before they got better. I was having to honour and listen to my tiredness. There was a risk that it would never improve and I would have to accept that this was my life.

I was in my late 50s and had been on the menopause journey for around ten years. One of my main symptoms was anxiety and a feeling that I was a pathetic shadow of the dynamic, capable person that I once was.

I had tried HRT a few months previously but it had caused some issues and I had to come off it. But now, with my plummeting mental state, I decided to try it again, in a different format. It was a Friday morning and I dutifully slathered two pumps of the Oestragel over the backs of my shoulders. That night, before bed, I popped the progesterone pill in my mouth and swilled it down with some gulps of water.

The next morning, I woke up at 6am as normal.

Except it wasn’t normal – there was no voice.

Bitch Monkey, as I came to call it, was silent.

Nada. Nothing.

A single day of hormone treatment had shut it up.

And it never came back.

From then on, I continued to wake up around 6am. I’d pop to the toilet, hop back into bed and with no nasty voice swirling around in my mind I would go back to sleep for another hour or so. Bliss!

Sadly, after a few weeks, I developed the same issues with HRT that I’d suffered previously. Thanks to some expensive appointments with a private doctor, I was able to try different ways of taking the hormones for a few more months. This gave me stability through the horrendous aftermath of my husband’s accident.

However, it also became clear that my body just did not like progesterone and with the help of my brilliant homeopath, I was able to come off the hormones with no ill-effect.

Best of all, Bitch Monkey was still absent. Hooray!

Bitch Monkey remained silent for the months that followed, in spite of everything I have gone through with my husband’s brain injury and my own recovery.

Until recently…

A few weeks ago, I felt Bitch Monkey circling my bed in the dawn hours. It wasn’t saying anything but its presence was in the room.

I’ve been looking into the viability of starting a coaching business. I’m working through Marie Forleo’s B-school course which is helping me to test my offering and figure out how to position myself.

Some stuff has gone well but other activities aren’t going according to plan. This is normal with a new endeavour.

But it’s discomforting. I could fail. It might never work out. Maybe I’ll be capable of running a successful business, maybe I won’t.

This is perfect fodder for Bitch Monkey.

Bitch Monkey loves to point out how my delicate health balance will result in severe inadequacies in my financial future.

A couple of weeks ago, on waking, there was a push/pull going on in my body. The spirit of Bitch Monkey (thankfully still silent) was pulling me down but at the same time, my more joyful side was saying, let’s get up and have a nice day.

It was interesting to observe both dynamics going on.

Prior to three months ago when I decided to see if I could build some kind of business, there were no serious demands on my time. My life had been dedicated to healing myself alongside dealing with the needs of my husband and aging mother.

In taking a decision to see if I could earn money again, I had introduced pressure. There was the risk of failing, work to do and courage required to attend networking meetings and approach people to see if they would assist in my research.

Bitch Monkey thrives on pressure.

Where am I with Bitch Monkey now?

I recently did a writing prompt exercise where you had to write about a favourite line from a book. I chose the following passage from Elizabeth Gilbert’s Big Magic:

When courage dies, creativity dies with it. Fear is a desolate boneyard where dreams go to desiccate in the hot sun.

In doing this exercise I realised that Bitch Monkey is a manifestation of fear, or my inner gremlin. It wants me to think that my business plans are going to end up in that desolate boneyard, that they are not fit for anything else.

I wrote:

How awful. I must not buy into this.

What then is the antidote to the desolate boneyard where dreams go to desiccate in the hot sun? It is a lush green sunny upland with trees to provide shade from difficulties.

Nourishment of all types is required – healthy food, nice cups of tea, friendship and most of all, love.

There is a huge difference between the me of two years ago and the current me. During this period, I have developed a huge sense of self-love. I don’t curse myself any more. I’ve learnt to say, loving encouraging sentiments to myself.

Yes, Bitch Monkey might be circling, but it is silent. I’m steeped in love now. This is a very effective shield against the barbs from fear. I know that saying kind loving sentiments to myself is hugely powerful.

I have realised that moving onwards quite naturally brings up resistance. Bitch Monkey is sniffing around because I’m moving forwards and making headway. I may have to accept feeling a little blue or trepidatious upon waking but just see it for what it is – the inner gremlin. Then I can prize myself out of bed and embark on my day with love and joy.

Joy is an essential ingredient to my ongoing health. It is the element which will stop “must do all these activities” from toppling my health again. In much of my journaling I am encouraging myself to seek joy. It seems that I need to be constantly reminded of this.

With joy and love in my life, there is no way that Bitch Monkey can win.

Plodding gently

Cali x

You might also like these recent articles:

8 Ways To Transform Self-Loathing Into Self-Love

Scientific Proof That Kind Self-Talk Makes A Huge Difference

Photo by Jamie Haughton on Unsplash

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