“So I started chemo treatments. I have to tell you, I feel like a failure every time I go. The people around me are catching up on TV shows, listening to audio books, emailing their grandkids, and knitting blankets for crime victims. I mean seriously. All I can think about is that I don’t want to be there.” Sylvia had been living with a cancer diagnosis for months, working her way through a variety of treatments.

“What does the doctor say?” I asked.

“Oh, there’s a great chance all of these treatments will result in full remission. I know; it’s what I need to do. But I feel like such a loser there with all these over-achieving cancer patients!”

“I’m headed to Florida in a few months for a work conference. I sucked it up and tried on my bathing suit. I have to tell you, it was a terrible experience! I’ve grown a belly! I used to run marathons. Now between work and family, I can barely find time to sleep. All my friends somehow still run 50 miles a week or bike up and down the canyon. I’m so embarrassed, I’m thinking about backing out of the trip.” John gave an exasperated sigh.

“Is the trip optional?” I wondered out loud.

“Oh no. It means I’ll lose out on my promotion. But at least I won’t be embarrassed.”

“My family never helps. I’m the only one who puts together holidays and keeps everyone up-to-date on the family news. No one comes to visit us, but all of our vacations are trips to visit family around the country. I even make sure each person gets a birthday and anniversary card. I mean seriously, does everyone think I’m made of money and time? I’d love a European adventure like my sister recently enjoyed, but instead I take care of the family. So, I finally put my foot down.” Jennifer’s face was bright red and her voice was at a shout.

“What does that mean?” I was a bit afraid to ask.

“I told my family I was done. Either they start stepping up to keep us all connected, or I’m not talking to them anymore.”

Sylvia, John and Jennifer have all been living in their heads, making judgements and assumptions based on the stories they’ve created. Reality testing, a Freudian psychological intervention, offers the antidote. We take our idea, theory or story, and test it out in the real world.

Sylvia began by talking with Martha, who it turns out started knitting because she felt like she was underachieving during chemo and didn’t know what else to do. As Sylvia and Martha talked more regularly, Sylvia began to feel less angry and alone and even more productive as she explored some YouTube videos to learn simple knitting techniques. Once John called up a couple of his buddies (instead of just seeing their social media posts) he learned that they too were struggling with life/exercise balance and changing, aging bodies. Finally, Jennifer opened up with a couple of her cousins about her frustrations and learned that they felt like they couldn’t share any challenges with her, because they thought her life was “perfect” all of the time.

With so much going on in our lives, it’s easy to forget that the ideas in our head may not actually be the truth of what’s happening in the real world. Take some time this week to notice where you might need some reality testing.

I’dlovetohearaboutyourexperiencesat amy@peaktopeakcounseling.com, 303-258-7454, and you can always find past articles at www.peaktopeakcounseling.com or find us at www.facebook.com/peaktopeakcounselingservices.