Thanks, Pamela. I agree that it's essential to prevent a toxic environment from poisoning us, and this requires us to change what we can without becoming overwhelmed by trying to change too much. Your image of "becoming a beacon, shining a light in one small place at a time" is a beautiful metaphor to bear in mind as we try to strike this balance.

Thank you! I'm very grateful for the support.

Thanks, James. I agree that boundaries are critical, and our ability to manage them in a dysfunctional environment is particularly important--even if it's just developing the ability to stop ruminating about the situation and focus our energy elsewhere.

You're welcome, Vickie--I'm glad to know it was helpful. Some keys for me in this process have been: - Exploring why I was pushing so hard. I was quite physically active and feeling very healthy at the end of the year--what was I hoping to achieve by working out harder? I had taken a break from writing in the fall, but December and early January were very productive--why did I feel the need to do more? - Recognizing that new problems may require new solutions, even when they look quite similar to old problems. The lower back pain I experienced in the late '90s was entirely stress-related, and the solution was managing my stress + pushing past the pain to keep active. The upper back pain I'm experiencing now is certainly exacerbated by stress, but because it's initial cause is nerve damage and irritation, I need to listen to, not push past it. - Giving myself (even more) permission to say "No" and to prioritize. Since this happened I've turned down opportunities that would have been rewarding and I've been slower to respond to requests because I realized that I had to prioritize my health and healing. I've gained a lot of experience in setting boundaries over the past few years, but I've had to kick it up a notch, because the calculus has changed: Right now I have less energy and capacity, and I have to respect those new limits if I'm going to heal. Hope your own healing goes well.

Thanks, Tarik--I appreciate it. And I think you make an important and accurate distinction between "criticism" and "critical feedback" or "negative feedback." I often use these terms interchangeably because most people do as well in casual conversation, and I find that being more conversational myself makes it easier to connect with people. If I'm too precise in my terminology, it sounds like jargon, and that can be distancing. But your point reminds me that precision can have value, and if I'm too informal I risk losing some meaningful nuance. I'm also reminded that "criticism" is one of John Gottman's "Four Horsemen," the behaviors that are particularly corrosive in a relationship, and he describes criticism as "Presenting a problem as though the other person has a defective personality," which is another sure way to have a highly ineffective feedback conversation. I do want to acknowledge that when we have meaningful critical feedback to deliver, it's often accompanied by strong negative emotions. Something's gone wrong, someone has screwed up, and we're pissed. While it's essential that we manage those negative emotions in order to deliver our feedback effectively--see above--I think we're better able to do that when we 1) admit those feelings to ourselves and 2) share an appropriately filtered version of them in the feedback conversation. "Managing" our negative emotions doesn't mean "repressing" them, but rather finding ways to express them that don't trigger a threat response in others. This is why I tend not to use terms like "constructive feedback"--it's a little too sanitized and fails to convey the emotional aspect of the experience. Thanks again--very thought-provoking!

Thanks very much, Dan and Allen--I truly appreciate it. I said to someone today that my manuscript submission date of Sept 2014 is far enough away that I'm not freaking out, but close enough that it's changing my priorities. In a word, it's motivating, and that's how I feel about your feedback as well.