How to Stop Ruminating

This isn’t a how-to guide. I’m asking, how?

The Problem

So I’m currently in a state of rumination. Google’s AI overview says: “Rumination is the habit of obsessively, repetitively, and uncontrollably overthinking negative experiences, mistakes, or problems without reaching a solution.”

Ah, yup. That’s where I am as I’m writing this. The reason? Someone close to me reacted negatively to something I said in my Listen to Your Mother performance, the five-minute story I told from the stage the first weekend in May.

As it seems to happen when one writes creative nonfiction and has expectations of how their work will be received, it was not the person I was worried about or the specific comment I thought they might react to. It was a problem I didn’t foresee, and therefore, this person’s negative reaction took me by surprise and has me all twisted up inside.

Never mind the dozens of positive comments I received about my performance. My father, my husband, a coworker—all saying they are so proud of me. People reported back that I nailed it. The response I got in the moment from the crowd—laughter and gasps at the correct moments.

Joy Yagid Photography

None of that matters, as currently, I’m stuck thinking about the one person who didn’t like it.

My first response to someone calling me out for something I did wrong is always defensiveness, followed by anger. After 53 years, I know myself pretty well at this point. And I try to reel in my defensiveness, as I know from experience that a defensive stance never works in my favor.

When I got the feedback, I ended the conversation quickly. I didn’t want to say anything I would regret. And then, of course, afterward, I thought about what I could say to convince this person they’re wrong.

Why This Used to Be a Vodka Situation

This state, this in my head, ruminating on a bad conversation, worried that someone is angry with me, THIS is Liz at her worst. This is why I would turn to vodka. The vodka would be like whitewashing my brain. A thick layer of soothing paint on all my dents and cracks. So now, without vodka as a solution, when I’m stuck in my head, I turn to my emotional support toolbox. This toolbox is mostly filled with recovery How-Tos, but there are a few solutions I’ve personally added as well.

The Toolbox

The first thing I did after this conversation, well, was put away the groceries. I was on the way home from the grocery store when the conversation occurred. But after that was done, I did the thing that always makes me feel better. I went for a walk in the woods. Although I was still in my head on the walk, I’m just a better version of myself when I’m surrounded by tall tulip trees and chirping chipmunks.

Then I started my phone calls. Unfortunately, it was early in the morning, and not everyone was up. I sent some texts and left voicemails, then spent an excruciating hour waiting for someone to call me back.

When I did finally get in touch with a friend, it was such a relief to pour out my story. Having it stuck only in my head is terrible. As Anne Lamont says: “My mind is a bad neighborhood that I try not to go into alone.” But the first person I spoke with is not in 12-step recovery, so although I got some good advice and soothing comments, I couldn’t log it as an official 10th step. So I had to keep making calls until I reached someone in recovery.

The 10th Step

When you do an official 10th step, your sober friend helps you determine what part you had in the current problem. For more detailed info about the 10th Step, check out this previous post.

Let’s Get Into the 10th Step

In my current rumination situation, after I poured out my problem to my sober friend, she helped me single out what defects were making me all twisted up. And it’s the usual cast of characters for me. Clearly, my pride was affected. Why couldn’t this person see that I was great? Haha! And then my self-centered fear of having someone be disappointed or angry with me. I HATE having people angry with me. Also, I wanted to prove I was right; I wanted this person not only to hear my side of the story but also to agree with me. My sober friend helped me release my anger. I then asked my Higher Power to remove my defects. And I made a few phone calls to other folks in sobriety who could use a phone call of support. In those calls, I didn’t mention my problem; I just listened to theirs.

And yet still, I’m ruminating. Ugh.

Page 417

I’ve been in this situation before, when multiple 10th steps don’t quite remove my angst or stop the rumination, and my sponsor has directed me to read page 417 of The Big Book¹. I’ve read this page so many times that my Big Book’s binding is bent to just flop open at this page, and the page is marked with stars and passages underlined.

“When I am disturbed, it is because I find some person, place, thing, or situation—some fact of my life unacceptable to me and I can find no serenity until I accept that person, place, thing, or situation as being exactly the way it is supposed to be at this moment.”

The name of the chapter, which is part of the personal stories section of The Big Book, is called “Acceptance was the answer.”

The Answer

Oh wow, just re-reading that section as I write this Substack is helping me. Clearly, acceptance is the answer to this situation I’m in. And maybe writing it all out, as I did here, also helps. (Which, ironically, was something I suggested in my Listen to Your Mother speech.) Oh well, this person didn’t like my story. Not everyone is going to like everything I write. <shrug> I mean, I could even go back to basics here:

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change (this person’s opinion)

The courage to change the things I can (my response)

And the wisdom to know the difference.

So I’ve written myself to answer my original question. How do I stop ruminating? Hard-core acceptance. That’s the answer. I know this. I’ve known this for fifteen years. And yet here I am, writing a whole post about it, because apparently I needed one more lap around the block before I could let it go.

Progress, not perfection.

Disclaimer: To err is human. Please excuse any typos or grammatical errors. I employ Grammarly, but mistakes happen. In this world of AI, they're my way of keeping things delightfully human.

1. The Big Book is the nickname for the foundational text of Alcoholics Anonymous, formally titled Alcoholics Anonymous: The Story of How More Than One Hundred Men and Women Have Recovered from Alcoholism.