It is COVID-19 booster season, and as much as I really appreciate that I can have one, I couldn’t help but feel the vaccine left a bitter taste in my mouth – I mean this literally and metaphorically, it made me taste metal and alcohol all the live long day. It was one of those days where I absolutely didn’t want to go for how bad my anxiety was. Vaccines are something I believe in strongly, they are a core value of mine, something I feel is absolutely necessary for my well-being, and the well-being of those in my community. However, it felt like I was going to fight big scary sentient monsters, my very own version of Reapers, instead of having a vaccine and I knew it would be a tough battle.

Whenever something like this happens, my brain reminds me of a quote from Commander Shepard in Mass Effect, “I will not let fear compromise who I am”. It is a quote she uses to fight the actual big scary sentient machine monsters and it is a quote I have used so often in my life, that I should probably have it tattooed across my forehead by this point, to push through fears. Whether it is a vaccine, a task, or trying to keep my castle from collapsing, I will use all of the brute force energy I can muster to get it done. But here’s the thing: I brute forced my way through the vaccine to get through it, just like I’ve brute forced many other things. And while it worked this particular time, it doesn’t always and I guess, unfortunately, that’s where my brain decided to go off to (I don’t get to choose what it focuses on).

Brute force and the vaccine

Brute forcing my vaccine made me think far too much about how these tasks are so seemingly small, and yet I have to muster all of the courage inside of me to get them done. Shepard musters all the courage she can to fight Reapers, but I am using it to get a vaccine. I also thought about how this brute force method, and actually getting myself to do the task, doesn’t make it any easier the next time I have to do it. I’ve been told repeatedly by every health professional I’ve encountered, that it does make it easier next time. Therefore it makes me feel so completely broken and inept, that the next time I do this, it will either be exactly the same or even worse – I might not even be able to get myself to do it at all. I might not be able to summon any energy to enable myself to brute force. For instance, when depressed I become a shell of who I once was, with just the memory of the feeling of keeping to my values.

ACT, or Acceptance and Commitment Therapy, teaches us to act within our values. It’s about making choices that align with who we are, even when things are hard. Commander Shepard’s quote, about not letting fear compromise who we are, does align with this. But here’s where it gets tricky: when you’re facing what feels like a life-threatening sentient machine monster, humans often operate outside of their values, purely to survive. This is where brute forcing is necessary, you’re overriding everything your brain is telling you to keep you safe from harm, to live by values and to get it done. Sometimes though, just getting through the day feels like fighting a Reaper, you might not have any energy left to brute force.

I was told by medical professionals, that if I faced the task, the next time would be easier. But that’s hardly ever true for me. Sometimes, after brute forcing, it gets harder the next time for the sheer exhaustion I feel afterwards which often makes my mental health worse for the few days after it. I realised that while I got the vaccine, well done me, the mental toll was immense. Brute forcing might help me do the tasks my brain desperately tells me not to for fear of big scary monsters, but it doesn’t help me live in line with my values, and it doesn’t make the threat of the big scary monster go away (actually, sometimes it comes back with an even bigger health bar and better armour). It often makes me feel that medical professionals completely overlooked or misunderstood the sheer depth of my anxiety, I never once felt understood with how hard daily tasks are. In fact, the opposite happened, they sometimes unintentionally made me feel so broken, for the fact tasks do not get easier when I repeat them like they said they would, for the fact sometimes the next time is harder, for continuing to struggle despite completing all of the therapy they throw at me, for the fact that somedays I hate myself so much for only being able to survive that day because “it’s not enough” – moment to skip over the fact it was suggested it’s because I don’t work hard enough when I do, and to not struggle every day is all I’ve ever wanted my whole life.

Brute Force and the Collapse of the Castle

This brings me to where I am now, with a sore vaccinated arm, and a collapsed castle. Brute forcing is something I’ve relied on for years, just trying to keep everything together. I kept pushing through, believing that if I just forced myself to do the hard things, it would get easier next time. Spoiler alert: it didn’t. My castle eventually collapsed because brute forcing is not a sustainable way to live.

I wondered for years, 12 of them to be exact, how I even built that castle the first time I was in recovery for anorexia. It’s only now, that I know. I did not build that castle for me, I did not build that castle brick by brick, I brute force built my castle on the value of, “My kiddo deserves a mother who eats pizza with them” and for WeeGee my best friend. Throughout those 12 years, in my weight-restored recovery, I still had all the same problems with food, emotions and trauma as I did when I was severely underweight. I ate to, “stay in recovery”, not because I felt I deserved food, not because the destructive coping mechanisms were unpacked and addressed, not even because I enjoyed food (the only time I enjoy food is when I am underweight). I brute force built a castle because my teen needed me to have a castle. It’s only now, after doing some somewhat independent therapy that I realise I didn’t recover 12 years ago, I instead became, “weight restored”. It is not the same thing. It is basically another form of masking I had to do, I kept my weight stable to convince others and myself, that I had recovered because I thought I had.

Sometimes, there are scenarios where masking is the only thing you can do, but it isn’t sustainable, eventually, it forces itself off and even having to mask creates its own unique problems and causes so much strife. It’s the exact same with brute force building a castle. I didn’t build a solid foundation, so of course it was liable to crumble. I was still surprised though, when it then crumbled into pieces when approaching the anniversary of my best friend’s death, but it shouldn’t have been a surprise at all. Now, it’s more of a surprise to me that it stayed standing for that length of time, it was a monument only to how much I love my teen.

Learning to Rebuild my Castle Without Brute Force

Despite the complete meltdown and depression fog that came from thoughts surrounding me brute forcing a vaccine, the side effects themselves and then making me think of my ENTIRE life (the struggle is real), I’ve come to realise that the demise of my castle is not a sign of failure, but a reflection of the tools I was given and the way I was taught to build. Brute forcing my way through life, through the fear, through the responsibilities of being a parent, all seemed necessary because I didn’t have the right tools.

It’s like trying to unscrew a bolt with a screwdriver when what you really need is a spanner. The problem isn’t with the screwdriver or the bolt — it’s just about using the right tool for the job.

Now, instead of just continuing to brute force my castle back together, I’m learning that I need better tools and proper support. No more pretending the cracks aren’t there or exhausting myself trying to patch them with the wrong materials. It’s time to build it brick by brick, slowly and with care, ensuring the foundation is strong enough to last. Whilst brute forcing will continue to help make me do tasks like get a vaccine, it is not a way to live your entire life and is completely unsustainable.

So this week, while I did struggle, and also had a metallic mouth like I’d actually eaten a Reaper (seriously, can you “taste” vaccines too?) I also learned the importance of asking for help. And most importantly, I’ve realised that I deserve to have the right tools to rebuild. Because my castle doesn’t need to be perfect—it just needs to be built to withstand whatever comes my way, and this time, whilst knowing it is a process with ups and downs, I’m going to build it right. “Crush my heart into embers, and I will reignite”.