This is intended to be the eleventh article in a series I’m working on about trying different mindfulness and coping skills from the website DBT: Dialectical Behavior Therapy (https://dialecticalbehaviortherapy.com/). I’m doing these practices because my therapist thought they would be good for me—and honestly, I’ve been curious to see whether they actually make any difference in my everyday life.
First Impressions: Is This an Excel Sheet for My Emotions?
The first time I heard “Cost–Benefit Analysis,” my gut reaction was, oh great, am I about to do accounting homework in DBT? I pictured Excel spreadsheets, pie charts, maybe even pivot tables judging my life choices.
But knowing what I did from earlier mindfulness skills, I figured the name probably didn’t tell the whole story. So instead of letting my inner rebel roll her eyes and check out, I tried not to set expectations and just listened. Turns out, this exercise wasn’t about math. It was about finally dragging some of my sneaky habits into the daylight and asking them, “Are you actually worth it?”
Choosing My Behaviors: Food, Exercise, and the Gut-Brain Circus
When it came time to pick behaviors, I went with two that haunt me daily: eating habits and exercise.
Part of that was because the instructor suggested them, but also because I’ve been thinking about them nonstop anyway. I keep coming back to the gut-brain connection — how what I eat might be fueling (or frying) my bipolar symptoms. There are even people experimenting with fecal transplants to reset their microbiomes and treat mood disorders. Tempting? Maybe. Gross? Absolutely. So instead, I thought: what if I just ate healthier and let my gut heal itself?
Working out, of course, is the other classic demon. The science is there — serotonin, dopamine, endorphins, heart health. And let’s not ignore the fact that people with bipolar disorder often have higher rates of heart issues. Not exactly a motivational poster, but still.
I didn’t pick these because they were “safe.” They’re the hardest. If I could change these two habits, I’d be a completely different person — more energy, better memory, mood stability, maybe even happiness. Sometimes I wonder if my bipolar disorder is less about brain chemistry and more about my diet and the fact that I sit way too much.
Facing the Costs: Kitchens, Cravings, and Confessions
No cost was too hard to admit — except maybe confessing that my kitchen is a disaster zone. And when I say “mess,” whatever you’re picturing in your head right now? Not messy enough. It’s worse.
The real surprise came when I scored dopamine from junk food as a six (yes, out of five). Junk food is addictive, and when I’m stressed, depressed, or mid-episode, cravings hit like a freight train. It feels like if I don’t get my fix, everything will fall apart.
But writing it all down actually helped. Seeing the “costs” on paper felt like wrapping them up, labeling the box, and tossing it out of my head. They weren’t festering anymore — I could own them instead of letting them own me.
Owning the Benefits: Doritos Taste Good, But…
Yes, I admitted it: Doritos give me dopamine. Junk food can taste amazing. But stacked against the long-term benefits of eating better — mood stability, less brain fog, sharper memory — it was clear the junk food “benefits” were excuses dressed up as rewards.
And honestly? Seeing the benefits of the “good” behaviors in writing was a bigger motivator than listing the costs of the bad ones. Every time I reread the line “more stable mood,” it was like a shot of hope.
The Scoring System: More Clarity Than Math
At first, the 1–5 scoring system threw me off. I wondered if I was supposed to tally up points and compare sides, like a scoreboard for kale vs. burgers. But that wasn’t the point.
It wasn’t about math; it was about perspective. Seeing brain fog as a “5” told me how much I actually care about clear thinking. Realizing “strength” wasn’t as motivating as “daily energy” shifted my priorities. And apparently, my brain thinks Doritos are Yelp-worthy at a 6/5.
Emotional Fallout: Motivation, Fading, and the Poster Plan
Filling this out made me feel motivated. Like — let’s do this, let’s get healthy. But I know myself. The further I get from the exercise, the easier it is to slide back into old patterns.
That’s why I had the idea to make a poster listing all the benefits of eating well and exercising. Stick it somewhere I can’t ignore, like the fridge or the TV remote. If I can remind myself that I’m not doing this for my waistline, but for my brain, maybe it’ll stick longer.
Real-Life Application: Too Early, But Promising
Have I changed yet? Too soon to say. But the fact that I left the exercise feeling motivated instead of guilty tells me there’s something here. The more I can make the benefits of healthy habits front-and-center in my daily life, the more likely I’ll follow through.
Comparing DBT Skills: Why This One Clicked
Compared to skills like “Wise Mind” or “Letting Go of Judgments,” this one felt easier — probably because my unhealthy habits have been gnawing at me for years. Cost–Benefit Analysis gave me clarity in black and white, and sometimes clarity is exactly what you need before confidence can even show up.
Humor + Snark Factor: Doritos > Kale?
There were definitely moments I laughed at myself. Like seriously, I’m putting numbers on Doritos vs. kale? Or the realization that my brain believes dopamine is worth breaking the scale.
But the humor made it human. And if I can laugh about it, I can work with it.
The Bigger Picture: Decisions Everywhere
Doing this worksheet reminded me that we’re constantly running cost–benefit analyses — we just don’t usually write them down. Should I text a friend back? Go to the gym? Order pizza? Each decision has costs and benefits, but most of the time we let them swirl in the background.
Writing them down — just once — makes the tradeoffs undeniable. And for someone with bipolar disorder, where moods can skew logic, that clarity is gold.
So if someone’s skeptical, I’d say: you’re already doing it. Try writing it out once, and see how much power it gives you back.
Final Takeaway
Cost–Benefit Analysis isn’t a spreadsheet for your soul. It’s a tool that takes the whispers of your brain — “eat this, skip that” — and forces them to stand trial on paper. For me, it showed that Doritos can score a six, but long-term mood stability wins every time.
And if my kitchen ever gets cleaned? Well, that’ll be a whole new worksheet.
