The Doctor Will See You Now

Several months ago, I woke up one morning, got out of bed and felt a sharp pain in the sole of my right foot. I hobbled downstairs like an old man, but it soon subsided and I thought no more about it. The next morning, the same thing happened, and the next and the next. This went on for ages, but I did nothing about it. It would probably pass. Most things do. It didn’t. Then it got worse. 

In my typical way, the thought of consulting my GP didn’t even occur to me. What kind of person wastes a doctors’ time with a bit of pain that comes and goes? Everyone in the local Facebook group says you can’t get an appointment for love nor money. Anyway, who needs the help of a highly trained medical professional when you can just Google stuff?   

Time went on and the increasing pain eventually forced me to reconsider my reluctance to speak with the GP. Despite the opinions of the FB group, it was all rather slick. Within a couple of days, I’d had a phone assessment and a week later there I was with my sock off, being told I probably had plantar fasciitis by a friendly GP who seemed perfectly happy to see me. I learned the condition is very common and perfectly treatable with the right advice. 

You see, I have an entrenched mind set that tells me I shouldn’t ask for help. I don’t know where this comes from, but it’s the case. My brain habitually backs this up with some well-worn internal arguments. Everyone’s busy with more important things than helping me. I’m making a fuss about nothing. I shouldn’t need help with this. Dr Steve Peters, the eminent sports psychologist, writes about this in his book, ‘The Chimp Paradox’. He explains how all of us have two chimps, one sitting on our left shoulder, the other on the right. One chimp is good, the other is bad. Here the good chimp is saying, ‘you’re in pain, call the GP, get it sorted’ whilst the other shouts it down. All too often, we let the bad chimp win.

The thing is, within a few days of seeing a physio, the simple exercises he gave me were already taking effect. The pain was easing, and I was walking better. Although the pain was in my foot, he showed me the root cause of the problem lay elsewhere, so most of the exercises didn’t work on my foot at all. He saw right through me and said, “I bet you Googled this first before you came here, but it didn’t help.” Yep.   

My bad chimp has a lot to say about my writing too. Don’t ask for help, everyone’s too busy. No one’s interested in you. Stay quiet, eventually you’ll work it out for yourself. Oh, did I tell you that your writing’s rubbish?

Recently, my WIP had reached a point where I just didn’t know how to move it forward. I was tinkering with it to little effect and going round in circles. It was causing me pain, but I didn’t know where it was coming from. After thinking about it for ages, I eventually reached out to a writing contact, and he quickly recommended someone who could help. We set up an appointment; I explained my symptoms and awaited the diagnosis. Before the feedback came, I convinced myself the verdict would be terminal. I could clearly hear the words of the writing doctor as they broke the news to me; I’m so sorry, but your book is incurable. Best to let it quietly pass away. Perhaps in time you could consider a different hobby? Preferably something that doesn’t involve stringing words together? 

My bad chimp was wrong. I was relieved to discover my condition wasn’t beyond help at all. It wasn’t in perfect shape, but the right treatment could save it. The diagnosis contained lots of positives and encouragement. It also came with some very specific and pragmatic advice about what I needed to do. Many of the suggestions were quick wins, alongside ideas requiring some more detailed thought. Every single point made total sense and my WIP is now on the road to recovery. I need to put the work in, but that’s down to me. Thank goodness I overcame the voice of my bad chimp. 

Does anybody reading this struggle to ask for help? What are your strategies for silencing your bad chimp?