Before Dr. Seligman instructed me to keep an ABCDE diary, he informed me not to “seek out   
   adversity.” Oh, don’t worry, it just comes to me, I thought. First fail. But really, in
   keeping a log of adverse situations, I did feel forced to focus on the negative, which seemed
   counterproductive. Nevertheless, I understand it is part of the journey. To learn to override my
   pessimistic thoughts, I have to recognize when they’re happening and the consequences that they have. Here are a few Adverse situations that occurred in my life over the last couple weeks along with my Beliefs about them, the Consequences from my Beliefs, my attempts to Dispute them, and the Energization I’m supposed to feel after dealing with my negative beliefs. Since I’m long-winded (and my Google Analytics tell me that 67% of you will leave after a few seconds on this page anyway), I’ll keep it at four.

1.
A: I come down with what I later self-diagnose as the stomach flu. I’m lying on the bathroom floor barely able to move with my iPhone next to my head. I lift all I can manage—my hand—to WebMD my symptoms. After following a few simple flow charts, I narrow my condition down to about five life-threatening ailments.
B: I’m dying. I’m definitely dying.
C: I text my roommate and mom to ask at what point I should call 911. Neither responds. I make a mental note to find new emergency contacts. I wonder how long before they find my body. At some point, someone will check up on me, right?
D: You’re not dying. (Remember when Dr. S said that sometimes you won’t believe your disputations? This is one of those times.)
E: I don’t feel anything close to “energization.” But on the plus side, I think that if I’m not dying, I’ve probably just lost 10 pounds, and I didn’t even have to give up chocolate or exercise. Win.

2.
A: When I’m well enough to move again, I decide to go to the doctor to make sure I’m not dying. I ask her to check me for a kidney infection.
  “What makes you think you have a kidney infection?” she rudely snaps.
  WebMD told me.
  “Well, my back has been hurting for several weeks, and on Sunday I couldn’t stop throwing up,” I reply.
  “Today’s Tuesday,” she barks again. I can see why they pay you the big bucks, Dr. Obvious.
  I stare blankly, unsure how to answer.
  “What happened between Sunday and Tuesday,” she asks.
  “I started to feel a little better,” I reply. “I stopped throwing up.”
  “Well that could be a number of things,” she geniusly concludes. No kidding! That’s why I’m here for a test, so that you, the doctor, can tell me if I’m dying.
  She continues with the exam and runs the necessary tests. She then tells me she still doesn’t think I have a kidney infection, but that she is going to treat me for one anyway while they wait for the blood results.  
  Excuse me, I think. So I can come in here claiming to have cancer and you’ll just order me up some chemo “just in case”? This is really validating my belief that doctors have absolutely no clue what they’re doing, and I’m better off with WebMD.
  I leave the office with my drugs telling myself that I was right, and she just didn’t want to admit it. I commence with the treatment and return to the office a few days later when they call me in with the lab results. The doctor tells me that I don’t have a kidney infection and to stop the medication. She asks me if my back still hurts, and I say yes. She has me bend in all sorts of yoga dog/pigeon/tree/fish emulations as she pretends to diagnose me but I’m pretty sure is merely entertaining herself with my humiliation. Unable to come to any sort of conclusions from her phony examination, she sends me out the door with a bill and a few pain killers. Thanks Doc.
B: Doctors are total shams. When they don’t have answers, they make one up or just tell you that you’re fine. I think doctors should be like those lawyers that only get paid if they win your case. I’m only paying you if you fix me.
D: Ok, fine. Maybe I don’t have a kidney infection, nor am I dying of a disease. And maybe all doctors aren’t phonies, just the ones I manage to pick. Maybe my back hurts because I slept weird or pulled it somehow or because I routinely sit hunched over like a 120-year-old woman.
E: I feel a little better <s>thinking</s> knowing I’m not dying. (What? I’m trying, okay!)

3.
A: My absolute most favorite pair of skinny jeans get a hole in them.
B: I wonder if I am the only one with this problem. My jeans always eventually rip in the same place—right where my big ole thunder thighs rub against one another. I am a disgusting pig, and I should be ashamed of myself.
C: I vow to buy a thigh master. It can sit next to my dumbbells, yoga mat, elliptical, and collection of DVDs that each promise to banish fat in under ten days. Ya know, those things I <s>hardly</s> never use.
D: I am not a fat cow. In fact, I even googled thunder thighs and came up with a picture of “chub rub.” Apparently this is when one’s thighs rub together, chafe, and cause an uncomfortable rash. I’m happy to report that I do not suffer from this unpleasant condition. (Any ladies who do, I apologize and assure you that I have my own other troublesome beauty issues!) Also, I wasn’t totally truthful. I do use my elliptical sometimes. Hey, that once a week or every other week is more than some people. It counts! Lastly, the jeans were a year old, and I wore them several times a week. They can’t last forever. (Shut up if your jeans last longer, and you do not have this problem. Who asked you?)
E: I am also happy to report that I’ve purchased a new pair of my favorite jeans, and even better, I found a 30% off coupon and scored free shipping. My mom is surely smiling with total pride at this sentence. (Now, please don’t start judging how often I live in said jeans or assessing my thunder thigh situation, thanks!)

4.
A: Two days before they’re due, I decide that perhaps I should start my taxes. Upon discovering that I owe 
$_ _ _ _ to the good ole IRS, I proceed to have a meltdown.
B: In addition to the many angry thoughts I have toward the government, I curse myself for my complete and total incompetence in all things grown-up. Why did no one in college teach us about the actual important things in life—taxes, retirement planning, mortgages, loans, investing, buying a car, finding a rich husband?
C: Certain that I’ve made an error, I go through the TaxAct questions a few more times. When nothing changes, I proceed to cry to everyone I know and mourn the loss of all the fun things and new clothes that could have been purchased with my now-owed-to-the-IRS money. At the conclusion of my pity party, I enquire about the tax deduction one can receive after contributing to an IRA. Following hours of online research and questioning of more-knowledgeable-than-me friends, I make a sizeable deposit into my newly-acquired IRA account, thus significantly decreasing the amount I owe in taxes. Take that, greedy government!
D: I am not stupid. It’s not entirely my fault that I have no idea how taxes work or why this year I suddenly owe so much. In my defense, other friends of mine had similar struggles too. And most my friends have accountants, so clearly other folks my age need help too. In fact, I know people older than me who have never once done their taxes themselves, nor have any idea how. Good for me for being brilliant enough to understand TurboTax since the first year I had to file taxes. And I did help my French roommate with hers, and she seems to naively think I’m completely competent. (Shh, no one tell her that I really had absolutely no idea what I was doing!)
E: I feel pretty excited that I don’t owe the government as much. More importantly, I learned a valuable, forced lesson on how IRAs work. Sure, I have no idea what to do with the money in the account, but the point is, I have one! I’m about one month closer to retirement. Win again!

     Alright, so maybe I didn’t use Dr. Seligman’s techniques exactly how he explained them in all my examples. But in actuality, I don’t think that his techniques are a one-size-fits-all for pessimism. Most of his methods for warding off negative thoughts are only applicable to instances where you have a negative belief about yourself. That’s certainly a major component of my own pessimistic thinking that I need to work on. However, there are many other ways in which one can be pessimistic about life or situations where I don’t think his methods, as he’s explained them to this point, will make sense. I’ll save my overall review on the success of our therapy together for the end of my sessions. Place your bets now on if I’ll be cured of my addiction at the conclusion of the next couple lessons.