“Not My Shit” Jar
The “Not My Shit” Jar is one of my favorite therapeutic interventions. It’s often one of the first ones I teach to a client. I like that the silly name sometimes helps to reduce some of the anxiety early on in the therapeutic relationship, it’s an early introduction into boundaries, and it’s generally a pretty easy skill to start with. I’ll explain what I mean in reverse.
The “Not My Shit” Jar is a derivative of the anxiety container, which is a CBT skill. Essentially, an anxiety container is where you can put your anxiety. I generally describe and suggest that most skills I teach be done in a physical manner, but if a mental catalogue works, then that’s fine, too. For example, before you go to work or go to sleep, you can word vomit/brain dump all your anxious thoughts into a notebook and then put that notebook away in your nightstand drawer. The intended effect is to teach the brain that the anxious thoughts are important enough to keep and have the ability to come back to, but you also cannot hold them all the time. Another way to use this technique is to only be anxious in a certain area of your home, like a certain chair. This helps free the rest of your home from correlation with the anxiety. If you’re only anxious in the specific chair, then you’re not anxious in bed or while washing dishes, and those areas become more relaxing or at least less anxiety-ridden.
The “Not My Shit” Jar is used for more specific situations than just any and all anxiety, which means it can be used by itself or in conjunction with a general anxiety container. In this container, which again may be mental or physical in nature, we put the opinions, beliefs, and emotions of others. These things are not ours to carry. Sometimes we worry what others think of us, our home, our partner, or our situation. If someone thinks we read too often and don’t spend enough time outdoors, that’s their business (or their “Shit”). If someone feels some type of way that we want to rip out the beautiful hardwood floors and put down laminate tiles, then that’s their Shit. If someone thinks it’s unladylike to wear pants instead of dresses, then that’s their Shit. If someone you live with is in a bad mood and doesn’t want to talk about it, that’s their Shit. So much of our anxiety is often revolved around what others think and feel and believe. You can be empathetic and not callous while still not carrying what belongs to someone else. The “Not My Shit” Jar is a way to - mentally or physically - put other people’s Shit down. Allow them to carry their own opinions, beliefs, thoughts, and emotions.
This is a skill under the umbrella of boundaries. Boundaries is a term thrown around often in the sphere of mental health and wellness, and it’s a term that both seems really simple and really complicated. I describe boundaries in two ways. Through the lens of relationships with others, boundaries are the spaces between us. What is yours and what is mine in terms of thoughts, emotions, goals, and responsibilities. Through the lens of relationships with ourselves, boundaries are the ways we show commitment to the only person we have forever: our own self. The “Not My Shit” Jar is more obviously about boundaries related to others. Your anxiety is not mine. Your belief that one should or shouldn’t do something is not mine. I do not have to take on your emotions or opinions, and it’s not healthy or adaptive for me to do so. I can relate to you, but there is always that space between your existence and mine. There is a distinction between being empathetic toward a sad coworker and making their sadness your responsibility to feel or address. The reality is that even the boundaries that protect our distinction from another are still about us and our relationship with ourself. Every time we choose that protection, we show ourself that we are trustworthy. I can trust myself to be empathetic without losing myself. I can trust myself to listen without taking on others’ Shit. I can trust myself to engage without merging my Self with theirs. Boundaries are about building that trust in ourselves and with ourselves so that we can relate to others in a more authentic and confident manner. So we can have connection while still maintaining differentiation, or distinction, from them.
One thing I love about the “Not My Shit” Jar is that it offers some levity. Feeling anxious or on high alert doesn’t tend to leave much room for things to be light-hearted, and there’s already so much reasonable anxiety in beginning a therapeutic relationship. It is really scary and intimidating to share these vulnerable, deep, or raw parts of ourselves with anyone else, much less someone who’s basically a stranger. One aspect of the “Not My Shit” Jar I find so valuable is that it allows my client and I to talk about a serious issue in a less serious way. We can explore the anxiety and the role they play in their experience of anxiety in a way that’s playful instead of shaming. Cheeky and human instead of so entirely serious and “professional.” My personal style as a therapist tends to be one that walks the line between being challenging and using humor.
Therapy is scary and can feel really intense, but it’s not all cardigans and looking over glasses while asking “And how does that make you feel?” Therapy can be fun and playful and silly while still being very effective, and this explanation of an intervention hopefully creates a window into a different kind of therapeutic experience. I invite you to consider how you could implement a “Not My Shit” Jar in your own life, whether you’re in therapy or not. What are you taking on that’s not actually yours?
