The "easiest" way to change
Last checked for editing: January 22/2025.
I’m always hearing I have to learn to be less anxious. But it’s all wrong. I was born this way. And I can’t unlearn it. So I don’t need to tell myself not to be afraid. That just makes it worse and adds guilt that I failed to stop the fear. Now I’m afraid of being afraid.
And there’s more.
Is:
Isn’t:
Updated November 12, 2025
I have a negative feeling. My response: I fight it. I oppose it. I treat it as a problem, which triggers my brain to solve it. Fighting is a type of solving. Opposing is a type of solving. Solving is a type of opposing. I can call my response whatever I want. But if the response is anything other than observing it, I’m solving it, usually by fighting it.
If my response to a negative feeling it to fight it, that is, if I have a problem-solving response (psr) to it, the negative feeling comes back. For example, if I try not to be angry, I get more angry. If I try not to feel the pain of failure, I feel it more. Why? Why can’t I control my feelings?
Updated May 9/2024, March 6/2025, May 9/2025, Aug 20/2025, Jan. 10/26, Feb. 11/26
I don’t need to know why the Seeing Sequence works in order to do it. While I may want to know why, understanding will not, at all, help me change, or make me work at change.
See Summary below for the short version of this post.
The main thing to know from asking “why” is this: Ignoring is the pivotal event in my daily living.
The Problem
I love distractions. Because I love that feeling of relief from tension when I look for them and find easy ones to solve or to go with. I like to look for them, but the best distractions are those that come in unbidden, loaded with pleasure; like my favourite food when I’m hungry; Or changing my mind at the last moment when something good crosses my path.
The problem with my love of distractions is how scattered I can be. Everyone gets tired of me doing it. Even me.
Not upbringing, not experiences. Instead, psr’s. Psr = inappropriate or imaginary problem solving response. It’s not real solving of real stuff. (The short form “ipsr” is too long and doesn’t roll off the tongue well, so … psr – problem solving response.)
Updated December 6, 2025, December 16, 2025, December 29,2025, Feb.2/26
The Problem
I don’t believe helping others is a problem. I’m just naturally generous. I love solving other people’s problems: helping them out, offering advice, giving them things. I do it even if they aren’t asking me to.
I feel tense if I don’t. And I feel hurt, baffled, even angry if they refuse my help, no matter how politely. I only show these negative feelings if I know others won’t reject me forever. Lucky them.
However, there is a condition to my helping: I only help when it’s easy to see or do. For example, if something is messy, I see how to organize it; dirty, clean it. If a person is upset, calm down. If hurt or sad, cheer them up.
But I can’t go one more thought, like to the cause of a problem that’s more complex than child-like simple. I’m scared of failing.
Not upbringing, not experiences. Instead, psr’s. Psr = inappropriate or imaginary problem solving response. It’s not real solving of real stuff. (The short form “ipsr” is too long and doesn’t roll off the tongue well, so … psr – problem solving response.)
Updated December 6, 2025, Dec.29/25, Feb. 2/26
The Problem
You’re shy. As a result you’re blocked from trying to connect to me. I know it’s temporary. But It triggers in me boredom, then detached amateur analysis, then, worst of all, doing the work of connecting for you.
Not upbringing, not experiences. Instead, psr’s. Psr = inappropriate or imaginary problem solving response. It’s not real solving of real stuff. Ipsr is too long and doesn’t roll off the tongue well, so … psr – problem solving response.
Updated December 6, 2025; December 29, 2025, Feb.2/56
The Problem
I attack my creative thoughts. Just like I attack my happiness.
The attacks take the form of finding a flaw, especially the flaw that my creative thought will fail – predicting failure.
Another way of describing this: I edit my creative thoughts in order to solve my fear created by my predicting failure.
I do this so often, I think it’s normal editing. But it isn’t, because normal editing is solving real faults that lead to improvement that leads to externalizing. Psr editing solves imaginary faults after I’ve already solved the real ones. The editing leads me to externalizing prs’s instead of my true response.
Not upbringing, not experiences. Instead, psr’s. Psr = inappropriate or imaginary problem solving response. It’s not real solving of real stuff. Ipsr is too long and doesn’t roll off the tongue well, so … psr – problem solving response.
Updated December 6, 2025; December 29, 2025; Feb. 2/26
The Problem
I attack my memory and convince myself it must be wrong.
Result:
Not upbringing, not experiences. Instead, psr’s. Psr = inappropriate or imaginary problem solving response. It’s not real solving of real stuff. Ipsr is too long and doesn’t roll off the tongue well, so … psr.
I have been hurt by you more than you would ever imagine. It’s not that you can’t imagine my pain. It’s that you won’t and will do everything you can not to, as you always have.
The only thing that eases my pain is fantasies of revenge. In these fantasies, I hurt you as much and more than you hurt me. But my relief is quickly followed by images of everything that could go wrong with my revenge, especially images of you countering my efforts and hurting me again.
My pain has kept coming back into my days and nights.
Updated November 29, 2025, Feb2/26
The Problem
I’m thinking of death. I makes me feel relief. That scares me. What’s wrong with me?
Updated November 25, 2025; Feb 3/26
The Problem
I love perfection.
A small list :
Updated November 25, 2025, Jan 19, 2026; Feb.. 3/26
The Problem
This glass I just drank from, still in my hand, I think of washing.
Predictions of failure immediately come into my mind: failure to wash in one easy try, or it will be boring, or I’ll have to waste time drying my hands, or all of these one after the other.
I drop things, spill things, bump into things, break things, choke on things and misplace things. I’m clumsy. I never thought of myself that way until someone told me. Then I saw it in all movement that I didn’t need to pay close attention to. I could climb any tree, walk on any roof without mishap. But I couldn’t wash dishes without bumping them, without splattering the water, without occasionally dropping one. And I often injured myself mildly, and sometimes worse, while playing sports or working with tools.
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