My Personal Values: I challenge you to pick new words for yours

Tags

12 step, anxiety, balance, co-dependency, counter-dependency, depression, DIY, harmony, mental health, peace, ptsd, recovery, safety, stability, sustainability, values

Per my usual, I am still trying to find balance, routine, and consistency with regard to posting. I am back to writing daily, but my posts are still a long way between. Real quick, my last post, a book really, ended with my personal thoughts on changing a person’s values in order to truly recover from addiction and other mental health struggles. This is my blog and my personal opinions based on what I have done for myself (which is based on reading almost the entire self-help section of my bookstore, mental health counseling, and 12-step).

I do not disagree on the importance of one’s home and lifestyle, of family and friends, of church affiliation,  employment, education, pets, nature, hobbies etc. I find them all important to a well-rounded life. What I disagree with is continuing to value the people, places, things, and situations that made me suicidal, depressed, anxious, shell-shocked, frightened, and generally f*d up in the first place. For me, continuing to “value” what made me this way is dumb. Threading those things back in LATER, when I am much healthier, much more solid in myself, much more discerning for my well-being, much much stronger, and truly ready for what they bring my way; can be done. I am not advocating disowning one’s family. I am not suggesting cutting all ties to the past, turning away from one’s up-bringing, or permanently destroying our place in the Known Cosmos; what I’m advocating it that those things not be one’s core values  if one wants to build a life based on recovery.

Two and a half years ago I sat in a day hospital break-out session on “Values”given by an old white religious guy. Problem number one. Everyone around me was calling out things to write on the white dry erase board. The group contained a surprising spread of demographics. Three different colors of people, three or more religions represented, a decent spread of education, household income, and employment statuses, married/single, gay/straight/, using/clean, veterans to the program and newbies. But despite the diversity, everyone said the SAME THING. They all valued things outside of themselves, things that did not necessarily put a roof over their heads, pay their bills, keep them from drinking/drugging/addicting. My point is that when it came to the “values” session, the dry erase board looked exactly the same both times and every person in both groups of people said exactly the same thing (of those who spoke, I know..). That was problem number two. It was a colossal re-run. And for some of us there, the whole experience was a re-run, and for others a re-run of a re-run. NO CHANGE.

Doing the same things over and over but expecting a different result is “crazy” right?

Here are my suggestions and what I said on my second tour through the day-time mental hospital.

I have five base values. They are for me to be able to take care of myself. They may seem selfish, but I think I deserve self-care since this is where I am sitting for the second time in two years, and on the second major mental break-down in 14. The statistics don’t look pretty after this. This is what I base my life on, and my life depends on it.

1. Safety

2. Sustainability

3. Balance

4. Harmony

5. Stability

The room was silent. No one spoke for a minute or two. Then someone said, “I never thought of that”.

I think they may have meant that they didn’t think of “values” as something for themselves personally. I think most of the people in the room had on rosy colored glasses and I took them off. I tend to point out reality. Many of us were in fact not safely off the streets, not safe in our homes, not safe among our “values”. Even the staff had to think on this. Problem number three. That bothered me a HUGE amount and almost up-ended my time there.

I don’t know how to use line spacing (and a bunch of other things) on WP so this looks long and I want to keep this post short. I want to leave time for anyone reading to ponder my suggestions. It isn’t that my mother, or child, or best friend, or education isn’t very important to me, or that I don’t value them; it’s just everything else has a place AFTER my safety needs are met. I let things back in when I can sustain them in balance with my life as a whole. I spent an entire year on each value, this year I am on Harmony. As I get along better with myself, I get along better with others, but it is hard with my desire to disconnect (hence my previous post). Next year I hope to be living in a place of stability. I’ll let ya know.

Over time I discovered that each value has an accompanying character trait that I have had to develop to solidify the value. This has been perfect for 12-step work.

I advocate for people to come up with their own words, their own core concepts that will give them a place a safety, mental health, a ground zero to start from perhaps again and again until it works for them. I’m a DIY girl. I believe the ground underneath us is stronger if we lay our most solid work ourselves out of the most solid parts we create in ourselves. I know what heals me, and I believe that most people know what heals them. I think the thing mental health needs the most is CHANGE.

 

None of the values on the dry erase board worked for me. They actually kept me trapped in co-dependency. They took the focus off myself and my development, even my personal physical safety.

Thanks for reading and I wish you safe.

bc

 

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uncertainty of moving on…

Tags

12 step, anxiety, connections, depression, development, kindness, mental health, peace, ptsd, recovery, resistance

As I move on, out of a huge major depression, I don’t know how. I don’t know how to live with the idea of my life not directed by navigating the b.s. of those around me. I don’t know how to direct myself without the immediate energy of others. I don’t know how to move my day along with thoughts and feelings at the same time. I know there is much to do, emails to read, appointments to make, help to get to make my BlackBerry and my laptop to talk to each other again, swimming to do, cleaning my refrigerator, cashing a surprise check, thinking on a second job….. my question is how do I do these things without losing myself again. I am a late sleeper, a slow waker, a dawdler; until my brain realizes that time is ticking and I need to move along.

This is different from my long hatred of mornings. I no longer hate mornings. I no longer dread them, wish I didn’t have to endure them, or fight them. These days I wake up peaceful, okay with my life. I wake up safe in the life I have built on my own, for myself. Most mornings my mind is actually blank for awhile. My a.m.routine is written down so that I stay on track whether I am thinking or not.

It is after this that I have questions. And they are questions, not angst, drama, or even that much anxiety. Just, “How do I stay with myself this day and do some of the things I really should do to participate in my Life, as it is and where it is headed?” I think it is a question of balance. How do I love myself, love those so supportive around me, remain connected to it all? How do I cling and continue to grow at the same time?

These are things that get missed in abusive, neglectful, dysfunctional, addictive, and traumatic homes as we grow up. These are developmental steps that get ignored, forgotten, destroyed, or damaged; and to me, it seems, they need to be made up. I am repairing in myself those connections in my brain that say, “Hey, connection is important! Hey, yes I know you need to move on but don’t forget me now that you have found me!”

My questions are things like, “Do I just throw myself together and go swim, because if I don’t, I won’t swim today? Or can I write in my journal, maybe post, and then go?”

Then there are questions of efficiency. “If I stay with myself and write first, should I throw in some laundry or soak my dishes?” If I write and don’t have those things going at the same time, is this good focus or license to go down the rabbit hole?

Issues of time arise for me WAY TOO OFTEN. I hate my struggle with time. I hope that someday it goes the way of my struggles with mornings! Rabbit holes suck up a metric crap ton of my time. BUT I have found that I have also grown-up about 4 years in 8 months of pursuing myself through my own rabbit holes. With regard to time, I feel that time to grow-up the natural way, in the time that I should have had, was mostly taken from me; so I am doing it now. I feel very firmly about this.

So, I guess my questions of good decision making, efficiency in running my own home (for 4 years now), how much I exercise, and whether I post or not; will get answered as I muddle through my quiet solitary days. Days like today I can chose to connect with interested parties on WP as I sort these steps out. As I have shared through photograph, I can connect with my fur-babies, allowing them to demonstrate their dependence on each other. My black and white rabbit is old and frail, she clings to my young brown rabbit who is patient, kind, and quite frankly assertive if she doesn’t like something new near them. They are peaceful and happy with their lives, a good reminder for me to follow suit.

On the thread of connectivity, and now that I have written to know what I think, perhaps I will read the email from my insurance agent and then give her a call to make an appointment for a sit down. This goes to meeting my budget needs, so perhaps it should be my first priority. Maybe then a swim will be the right thing. I don’t know what I will do after that, but later tonight is my 12-step meeting, then my Monday night Backgammon game and beer.

I am learning that gentleness with myself, structure, and hope are as important coming out of depression/anxiety/trauma as they are while in their midst. I am learning that honoring connections the entire time, is critical to sure footing and avoiding going seriously backwards. Staying with myself in the face of economic, employment, social, and societal pressures is vital to my recovery. What would the point be in any of it if I lost myself again? And of course I need to continue to push myself to authentically engage with others to really thrive.

Thank you, WP.

bc

The Struggle for Independence is not Brief

Tags

12 step, addiction, adult children, anxiety, being an individual, breaking-the-cycle, CBT, co-dependency, depression, dignity, fear, healing, independence, mental health, ptsd, recovery, safety, self-worth, shame, suicide, trauma

I give to Myself: Inherent worth, dignity, and individuation.

Because I bestow these by Myself, for Myself, I am obligated to uphold them for Myself.

I will do this by providing Myself with healthy, appropriate defense strategies to protect Myself from intentional/unintentional harm by my own or anyone elses’ hand.

I will also provide Myself with as many healthy, appropriate means of acquiring comfort as I can, to protect Myself from further internal harm, and continue to heal old wounds.

Experience has taught me that I also need to give Myself the freedom to declare at least to Myself: That anyone who denies my inherent worth, dignity, or individuation; and/or denies or belittles my need for protection and comfort; in violation of my unique Personhood.

 

This is my personal Declaration of Independence that I created in February of 2013 while hospitalized for a mental breakdown. I was seriously suicidal again after fourteen years of mostly fleeting suicidal ideations.

In writing this, I gave Myself a Self. Over the years as I encounter the variety of people that I encounter, I have noticed that lots of people don’t seem to have a sense of Self. I mean with a CAPITAL S as I write. I believe that in a persons’ early developmental years, this inherent worth as a human being gets destroyed or damaged to the point where they are unable to see themselves as a separate, autonomous person, with needs unto themselves. I know people who exist only because their physical body keeps generating electrical impulses that maintain the flow of mortal life, but they don’t really live. Unfairly, they don’t know why they can’t live, and certainly not for themselves. I think in this situation, a person has to give themselves a Self. I decided in 2013 to give myself a Self. I get to be a person, just like anyone else. I believe it can also be called the rise of “the Will”. I get to have a will of my own, long last in my forties. Usually, this comes along in the toddler years and gets reinforced through childhood, but mine was f’d up so it either didn’t happen, it was extremely weak, or repeated trauma killed it. Whatever. I decided I needed a Self.

I capitalize “Myself” and “Self” and other words in my writing for emphasis, to bring damaged people “up” to other human beings because we Are, and to encourage thoughts about the words I have chosen. I am a word person. 99.9% of the time I have agonized over writing (often saying) the exact word I want to use to convey the exact meaning I wish to convey.  I am also extremely literal (think American TV show BONES.) I think of recovery this way: my child’s mind was broken, often my mind still runs in a broken, sometimes primitive manner, and my job now is to find, heal, and assimilate these broken bits so that I can live rather than exist. I had to have a Self on which to build a life.

I believe all living things have inherent worth and a place in the web of life, indeed the Cosmic plan. I simply took this basic belief and applied it to Myself.

I believe all living things have inherent dignity as well. I have a very old rabbit. She falls and can no longer bathe herself. Her facial expressions appear to say “damn it!” when she falls. She struggles a bit until I pick her up, then she fervently licks my hand as I reset and block her back up with a rug. When I reach down to pet and reassure her, she “butts” my hand, closes her eyes, and sorta smiles. At bath time, she is nervous and seems embarrassed, but then is clearly happy to lay on the bed grooming herself as she dries, then seems cheerful now clean again. I think people deserve the same dignity we afford our pets. I expect from here out to be treated with as much dignity (and respect) as my mother’s cats.

Every person is unique, irreplaceable, belongs in this world, has a reason for their stay, and a story of their very own. Many stories are similar, suffering is often a shared experience, all humans bleed red; but absolutely nothing is identical outside a lab. The human story is also about perception. Perceptions can be as tangled, and layered, and lickity-split as the neurons that pass along the messages. Recovery/healing to me, seems to need to be an individual endeavor, who knows one’s self better?

 As children, if these basic human needs are not given to us, I think we have to give them to ourselves, the sooner the better, because life can be long. They need to be firmly for ourselves, as a gift we give ourselves. I needed to learn that I need to put myself first- always. This is tough to swallow, especially for parents, but it is true. The parent that cares well for themselves is far better equipped to care for a child. I believe that whatever the stage in life a person gains in recovery, they can begin to pick up the pieces for their children and move on in a healthier manner. For me, when I stopped arguing with the Universe and took care of Myself, my child also began to take care of Himself.

As an addictive type person, healthy and appropriate means of defense and comfort is vital or I will just keep up the same crap. I have found that now that I don’t spin, and blame, and play the victim, and run around, and pretend that I have “a life”, I actually do. I weigh out and CBT seven ways from Sunday every-single-time I feel I need defense, protection, comfort, some kind of action or attention. My first impulse is usually bad on the budget, a drink to an emotion, some kind of avoidance, or something to cover Shame. Over the last three years I have developed an arsenal of safe, inexpensive, self-contained, productive, sustainable, inexhaustible, satisfying, and replicable defense and comfort strategies. My secret is to STOP. Just freakin STOP already!

I use my arsenal to limit self harm and keep from being victimized by another person while I am in whatever state I am in. I have learned to soothe Myself. Moving ahead, some of my struggles are to not be bitter that I have to soothe Myself, not be frustrated that I need so freakin much soothing, and to come to terms with the Shame I feel about my soothing activates. (I color A LOT. On my bed. While watching a DVD or listening to soothing music. I feel 6 next to busy professional running all over with their families. Who sits on their bed and colors because they are overwhelmed? Me.) My thinking is I will “outgrow” this, increase my tolerance for stress, and someday teach this to others. My thinking also is that I am no longer hurting myself if I am on my bed with crayons.

Finally, I think good declarations need teeth to enforce them. What good is it to give yourself a Self with inherent worth, dignity, and the right to your own individual needs including what is Kyrptonite to you and what makes your heart sing; if you don’t also declare what the consequences are for not upholding the declaration. And not just that, but MY declaration says you cannot even belittle any of my defense or comfort strategies. They are mine. Unique to me and MY suffering. Nobody is allowed to violate my declaration that I created out of violation, to end my violation.

Once my personal “Declaration of Independence” was in place, giving me a Self, with rights, a clear directive to maintain those “rights”, and teeth to bite back against any violations of my D of I, I was free to begin a personal “bill of rights” or institution of NEW core values.

I think sometimes people don’t heal because they try to keep the same values that keep them injured and sick. I believe that where a person puts their spirit, thoughts, feelings, energy, care, time, money, resources, and vision for the future; is where their values lay. If all these things keep going to other people who are not around, or are unhealthy/addicted, or the ones who broke them in the first place; then I don’t see how the new Self, the new declaration of independence, and it’s enforcement could be maintained anyhow. I think that if core values aren’t changed, the person themselves will violate their own new contracts and the cycle will just continue.

Values have to change. The rules have to change. It’s not fun or easy or fast or sometimes understandable; but if done consistently long enough, the Self will heal. We are biologically designed to do so.

bc

A Day to Re-set

Tags

12 step, anxiety, balance, confidence, courage, freedom, gratitude, grounding, mental health, non-addiction, one-day-at-a-time, peace, ptsd, re-set, recovery, rest

Thank God I took today off.

Real freedom through thoughtful planning, in this case, this day, keeping my time for myself and limiting my interactions. This took courage to clear my schedule of places to be, things to do, and people to see. I realized that it has been over thirty days since I was alone and I will lose my mind if I don’t stop to rest. This is huge given that that I spent nearly 3 1/2 years retreating from life and here I am now so busy that I need a break from it. Recovery is possible. Time to balance back out letting my instincts be the guide. The only human being I can handle everyday is my own child, everyone else I need a break from or I get over-whelmed. I felt enormous relief upon waking and remembering that I don’t have to deal with anyone today. This is made possible by the day off work, letting my exercise class know I would be absent, and there being no social engagements on the calendar. My few pals were forewarned that I would be unplugged today. Although, I don’t think it is “unplugged” really, I think it’s just a “no demands, please” day.

I need an emotional break from human interactions for twenty-four hours to “re-set”.

My biggest fear right now may be committing to the rat-race again, or to the Treadmill of Life. I get exhausted to the soul and want to wither away after long periods of “doing” and interacting. I want to live as a human being, not a human doing. As it is, I live most of the time feeling blue in a fog of grey, pretending that I am okay with this running to work, school, family things, social engagements, the gym, the business of life, and fun; like other people, chasing success and happiness. Truth is, I suck at it, and I don’t like it at all. Maybe most people don’t like it either, they just do it because they know no other way. Maybe others do like I am doing and pull back to rest, I think this may be what they mean by “vacation”; although usually I hear about needing a break after vacation, so I think even vacations are just more running. Anyhoo, I can’t wait for a real vacation so this is a one-day version.

I also woke with the trippy sense of having had dreams within dreams.

When I first fell asleep last night I think I began to dream right away. I awoke in startle response and physically felt something heavy on top of me. At first I thought it was big, bigger than me, and holding me down. My mind raced, my heart braced for violence, maybe death.

I thought, “Well, this is a big city, people kill people, someone came in my window and this is it, Matt will be devastated and everyone will know that big cities are dangerous.”

Then I thought, “No, the windows are closed, the air is on. Oh, I left the keys in the door again and this time I won’t be so lucky….”

Next I realized the thing on me wasn’t that big. It was small and mostly on my shoulders and neck. It was moving, slowly, sort of gently. “Wait, there is a sound, low, steady, slightly rumbly-scratchy sound, and it is occasionally rubbing against me. Oh! It’s head-butting me!”

In my sleepy fog I identified this weight as a cat. A cat had jumped on me and was purring and butting into my shoulder, neck, head, and face for attention. I could clearly hear its happy throat, smell its hot feline scent, feel its wet kitty nose and mouth. I remembered how loving a creature a cat can be, and all the cats we’ve had over my life. Okay, a cat I can handle.

Concern suddenly hit me as I tried to rouse to deal with the situation. “I love cats, I want a cat, but I am allergic to them. This is the biggest reason I was sick most of my life. I didn’t know I was allergic to them. SHIT! I am well now, I so will not go back to constant “kill me now” sharp headaches, nausea, swollen glands, and tiredness with confusion! This cat has to go!”

” Bummer, I was enjoying the attention.”

 

I finally managed to move, as I opened my eyes I found nothing. In disbelief I jetted my eyes around not wanting to disturb anything. Then I turned my head and looked around. Nothing. Absolutely nothing was different from when I went to sleep. No open window or door, no cat. I shot up to a sitting position and began to shake. For probably five minutes shook, and quivered, and writhed a little. I realized that it had all been a very elaborate dream. Then I realized that it was probably my body working on trauma. THEN it hit me…

“That was trauma physically working to the surface and leaving. Very cool.”

 

I went back to sleep grateful that I had taken the next day off. I continued to dream but sort of realized they were dreams within dreams and life was okay. When I woke up for real and got out of bed this morning, I felt this powerful sense of okayness. I felt a re-appearance of confidence in my mind’s abilities, and the same confidence in my place in this world. I had lost these friends for a very long time, I am glad they are back, if only for the day.

O Happy Day.

bc

 

 

 

Exercising with Erikson

Tags

12 step, addiction, anxiety, CBT, co-dependency, depression, fear, mental health, process, ptsd, recovery, rejection

I had my exercise class today. I was a little tardy, but they hadn’t started yet. I like to parse out the behavior that I am changing and ferret out the new beliefs/thinking that helps me to change this behavior. Cognitive Behavioral Therapy hard at work!

1. Good job just dropping what I was doing and going to class. [Believing I am worth dropping things for.]
2. I didn’t take anything with me such as swimming gear or banking inquiries. [ I wasn’t going to take the time to gather the items and be later than I was ]. Upon getting home I further realized that I let myself off the hook of doing something at a time that I didn’t want to do it.
3. I did not plan to run errands immediately following class. [This is about growing self-awareness of how I would likely feel. Per 12-step I do my best to not stuff my feelings especially with myself. I would be hot, tired, thirsty, hungry, and stressed from the re-engagement after a week of not being there. I knew I would be upset at missing classes due to covering for other people, a little out of shape again as this is a new routine for my body, and confused as usual over my-needs-v-and/or-village-life-decisions.

I don’t have a template for social flow between meeting my needs and the needs of others and remaining in communication while doing so. I did stop in the last day I missed to talk to them and let them know why I was absent. This was new behavior for me as I generally don’t think people even think of me, which I am discovering is just not true. I also saw my instructor as I entered my building and spoke with her.

Another behavior I am improving is registering for things ahead of time as places request. I usual don’t know about this, ignore it, or can’t do it for IT reasons. I always feel badly, and I know it is yet another character defect that I need to get rid of. In this case, I registered as requested. I suck at re-entry into a situation because I feel like I am being judged for missing, will lose whatever place I may have had, and I have to start all over again feeling comfortable with the people. Even things like this require me to come home and “process”.

I feel sort of like a teen coming home to check in and be checked on, then going on with my Friday and day off work. Maybe this is “re-parenting”.  Maybe coming home to think, write, eat, drink, and perhaps nap, is doing for myself in the here and now, what I didn’t get to do then.

Another success was that I took a risk and parked in the patient parking garage, not the employee garage where I usually park. I did this as a move to show myself that sometimes I am the guest and get to do guest things. Good for me!

During class I realized how much I missed it. I felt the difficulty and misbehavior of my unexercised body. I felt sort of out-of-it. My instructor gets a little short when we don’t follow exactly. I noticed a weird unawareness of my own body that sometimes happens to me. I think my brain briefly, unintentionally, and unknown to me, goes somewhere and my body just hangs out. I hate this the most of all my issues. I think this is the point where deep frustration began to bubble up making me wish the class was almost over. In this case, this thought shocked me because I love this class.

I hope I am right in the realization that this is a small example of my strong sub-conscious mind shifting into some kind of  self-preservation mode when completely unnecessary and in reality not helpful at all, but rather creating a problem. This is where a class would end and I just wouldn’t return because it is in fact too hard or I think it is. The bottom line is my entire experience today stems from deep fear of rejection. Deep fear of not deserving. I will remain on the outside even when I absolutely do not have to. AAGGHHH!!!

After class there was discussion about attending a cancer survivors forum the next morning. The other ladies inquired if I was planning on attending. I replied that I knew nothing of it, but that I probably would be there. In those moments I felt the line. A line I am usually on the other side of. Do I walk the line with these other people? Do I buy into the group for what it is and however long we are a group? Do I take the offer of invitation? And if I do, what is my commitment, how long is it, how big is it, how will it end? Can I comfortably fit another grouping of people in my life? I need belonging as much as I need air, but relationships/commitments have residue of Kryptonite on them. They can be my undoing. I missed classes in the first place because I cannot say “no” to co-workers who want me to work for them. I give up my own plans all the time. This is the “my-needs-v-/and/or-village-life-decisions” conundrum!

For me, an exercise class is not just an exercise class; it’s a public sprint through Erikson in about an hour.

I need a nap.

bc

Tardiness: my laundry

Tags

12 step, addiction, adult children, anxiety, CBT, co-dependency, courage, crisis, fear, Laundry List, mental health, process, ptsd, safety, shame

This is a bit rambley and long. I do try to keep to 1000 words but sometimes the topic is too big for that. Also, this post is inter-active. You will need the Big Redbook, your smart phone, or other material until I re-post. This was my share last night at my ACOA meeting. I am throwing it up “as is” to be timely, because my previous post needs it to make full sense, and I WILL NOT BE LATE for work. Nothing is linear, especially getting well from something. Hang in there with me and I’ll hang in there with you.  bc

Due to the holiday I knew the group would be small and I was chairing it, so I seized the opportunity to go really big. It opened up a ton on topics to share on (The Laundry List in the Big Redbook on page 5 lists 14 items that we ACOAers tend to do). All of them, or at least 11 of them show up in my inability to be on time. This is my third draft on the topic.

To save time and space I did not type out the contents of the Big Redbook. After a number sign # and a number (11), read that trait in the book. Later I will come back and amend this or make another post with a warning lable!

I forgot my reading glasses for the meeting so I had to have someone read from the book when I got to the number signs and their accompanying numbers. This was not protocol but it worked and it was fun.

My Share:

I have been tardy to everything since I was 8 years old. What began as in “instinctual safety sprint” has continued as my family’s pathological fear of success due to addiction and dysfunction in previous generations. Unless I root it out, I will bare the sins of my father, ie grandfather.

For me, tardiness began out of safety. When I was 8 or 9 it was an instinctual sprint from point A to point B. I was alone in the morning most of the time until 8th grade. We also moved every year until I was 11, then again when I was 15. I never knew anyone in my neighborhood or school. When I 2 or 3 our neighbor shot our dog. We lived in that house again when I was 8, and although our dog survived, I found going out scary.  The walk to school was long and down a busy four laned boulevarded street. I always made it to and frough  safely, but I was terrified, always.

Other years our neighbors weren’t wielding shot guns at our dog and the street were quieter, but there were other perils like snakes, bullies, men in cars, and other kid’s parents. Throughout it all no one could know my biggest secret: I was alone.

I was vulnerable from 4 or 5 on. Even at 15, I was vulnerable to my life being toppled because I had entered the work force, wanted to go to college, and didn’t share a last name with my mom. All my real fears became my Laundry List. Pg. 5 BRB.

However, believe it or not all of it comes down to ONE thing, now in my current reality. And that ONE thing is PLEASURE. Yes, my friends, pleasure. I am usually tardy now because I can’t allow myself pleasure. I don’t deserve it. Pleasure? Really? Yup! I will unpack this.

So, I am at home and have to go somewhere. Depending one where I have to go, the laundry list emerges. Take work, although I am not really late, I definitely need to arrive earlier due to changes that make my shift literally impossible to manage if I am not early. Asking myself why I am late for work-If I get there 15-30 minutes early then I am wasting time. #11.

Wasting time? Calmly driving, parking, walking, changing, refrigerating, reporting, watering, coffeeing, chatting……. Calm and plenty of time for preparation is wasting time? Yup. I don’t deserve it. I should run from the time I get out of the shower until I walk to my car a mid-night. I don’t deserve calmly organizing, planning, or seeing to my own needs as I work. I should cram in as much as possible before work as well. I never get enough done. IT IS NEVER ENOUGH! Never get to rest. #6.

Being late for school or a class (actually anything) can also be because I don’t deserve to go there in the first place. I don’t deserve a good job, education, to exercise, to socialize.  There are other things I should be doing and I should not allow where I am going to bother anyone. #7. What I am doing is not important, enough, or is temporary. My needs are secondary, always.  #3 My involvements, interests, goals, or attentions to me, bother someone around me. It’s the “how dare you” thing. School and other classes are about success, which is forbidden in my family. Nobody should do better than my mom’s generation, who of course weren’t supposed to do better than my grandfather’s generation. Maybe even further back.

Being on time, always, is risky. I could get noticed. Nobody should like me, want me to be successful, know my secret, or put me in the place of needing consistency. #1. The consistency of timeliness and success and involvement was a threat my family’s dysfunction. How dare I expect them to deal with their own crap!

Its’ hard to be on time when I feel uneasy about leaving whatever I am leaving. My mom taught me to leave the house in “dying order”. No dishes in the sink, no unmade beds, no unswept floors…. If I die while gone, what would people think of my messy home? Also, their needs must be seen to first. Where I am going, and my purpose may not have their total approval, or at least it can’t be more important than them. There is much to attend to before walking out the door. #2. When I arrive late, I know this is wrong and that I suck, but I don’t deserve any better anyway. Since I suck, it makes it easier for others’ to not count on me, which they shouldn’t because for me, nothing lasts anyway. I can’t be consistent or I will lose the little that I have, then who would I be?

Being tardy helps me to calm down. What ever machinations I went through to get there, kept the status quo I am used to. It  also weirdly revs me up. #8. The bizarre thrill of getting upset, then overcoming it, pulling out of the fire, getting away with something, or cramming in that one last chore to be good enough after all; keeps the adrenaline amped, thus making me think I am alive, accomplishing things, capable.

#10. What do I feel when I am not tardy that hurts so much? Pleasure. Connection. When I arrive in time for work, the pleasure is reduced stress. I barely know what low stress, putting what I need to do first feels like. I stuffed terror, anger, confusion, feeling less than, unimportant, and being needless for 4 decades. Now it all has to come out, and I have to learn the way it should be which includes relaxation, preparedness, flow, questioning, and connection.

Arriving in time for school,  a class, church… the pleasure is the coming together. The pleasure is the purposeful gathering. The pleasure is joining a group, being a member, having a place, dare I say? Belonging? I need to learn that my isolation was wrong. My nomadship was wrong. My outsidership was not good for me. Being late helps me to not deal with painful things. Small talk, being known, ugh, maybe pieces of the big secret.

Pleasure in commitment that I was never allowed because it interfered with someone’s addiction. Commitment  that could lead to, gulp, success. Then comes fear of maintaining that success. If I am always late, I don’t have to maintain anything. Now, you see, it isn’t over responsibility, it is being irresponsible. This irresponsibility keeps us seeking others tardy, underachieving, and dysfunctional like ourselves. Yup, #9! We suck, so we love others who suck and then of course there’s # 4. This translates for me, into having to do everything because I am with  someone who does little, so I am late because I have so much to do. OI! Allowing pleasure has allowed me to expand my peeps. I sometimes get in with the early birds, cool kids, and successful people. Letting go is actually the normal thing to do. Holy crap!

By being on time is a big push back from victim-hood. It’s saying ” I am person, I have things I MUST do for myself, things I WANT to do for myself, and some shit I am NOT going to do”.

To RE-cap the Laundry List:

I am going out in the world, I don’t care what you say or think, go ahead and leave-don’t come back, you may not pick on me, this is about me not you, I said, I don’t care!, I am not here to pity you, I want and deserve calm and less stress, no I won’t stuff my feelings, and I refuse to judge myself anymore.

Now, get the hell out of my way; I have places to go!

bc

Rejection

Tags

12 step, adult children, anxiety, fear, good wins, mental health, neglect, ptsd, reality check, recovery, safety, trauma

In this long process of rebuilding Myself, there are certain triggers that threaten the entire project. One of the biggest is rejection. Rejection by my peers or those lateral to me, rejection by others around me on a daily basis, rejection by leaders. This rejection if left unattended can begin an inward pull that at it’s worst, leads to suicidal ideation.  I think it is the instinctual fear alarm of getting eaten by a predator and the ensuing suffering. The suicidal ideation is about alleviating that suffering.

Let’s pick it apart so I don’t end up in the emergency room. There are no giant predators between my studio and my job, church, or my ACOA meetings, so I think I can safely put fear of immanent harm by saber-toothed tiger aside.

For many species one can simply migrate to another group or even join a different kind. I don’t know why this doesn’t just click in for me. Rejection is so wounding that almost no normal thinking can take place. Maybe sometimes rejection is accompanied by perceived or actual betrayal and that’s what undermines my progress. Maybe it’s betrayal of what I think I’ve got as a constant that I am wrong about. That constant isn’t an honest, safe, or consistent constant. Maybe it is this realization that sends me into a spiral. When I feel that someone doesn’t really care, will withdraw that care, or that I am important only until someone better comes along; I get to feeling unsafe. I get to feeling worthless and disposable. These are overly strong feelings for the situation most times and I know it.

At work there are various individuals and groups of individuals who have been my almost total support for the last three years. This is lessening by the month as I rebuild financially, socially, and emotionally. Very soon I will need to also recover academically and professionally, but I am not there yet. Anyway, yesterday a couple of my main supporters, one in particular, was aloof, almost ignoring of me and with the addition of another whom we don’t often see, they got very cliquey.  Basically it was high school all over again. I am getting better at this, but it did sting.

With one of them, I am her pal until someone better comes along all the time. I almost can’t get away from it, so I am learning to flow with it seeing her for who and where she is and not letting it get to me, although professionally speaking, I want to kill her. Another one is much most consistent in her consideration of me as a person, co-worker, and occasional confidant. She usually does step away from the clique to converse with me. The third co-worker who graced us with her presence yesterday is someone with whom I have had a stormy relationship. She greeted me in the beginning of the day, then let me be, which I prefer.

It was a great day all told. My feelings of rejection may not have been that accurate. The one I usually want to kill, had pissed me off some days ago and she knows it, so maybe this was just a break for her. She had two of her pals with her so she didn’t need to make requests of me. She got so caught up in whatever they were yakking about that I easily slipped away. The one with whom I used to do battle, may have simply not needed anything or had anything to say to me, so there wasn’t any dialog. I probably wasn’t rejected, just left alone.

In reality I took the opportunity and ran with it. Being free of three co-workers and their charges was fabulous! I spent most of my time in other areas, enjoyed those around me, and doted on some of their charges. I actually enjoyed the care I provided and was who I like to be.

My day was winding up nicely, then two things occurred. One was that the person coming in to be in charge doesn’t speak to me. At all. Ever. For any reason. This is hard to deal with. It is my fault that they don’t talk to me. I made them so mad over a long time, that they declared that they are “done with me”.  I have since completely changed the behavior that made them mad, but they still won’t talk to me. The behavior was not intentional, not even entirely known to myself, and not meant to make anyone mad; but it did and the result is the silent treatment, probably for life from this one. Another person with whom I have struggled to talk to myself, and they me as well, has joined in on the silent treatment; so I have two leaders who ignore my existence. So I ended up with high school on one side, and my silent treatment preferring mother on the other side. Oh joy.

I still did well. Thank God, Athena, Buddha, and Muhammad that my work environment is enormous! As my day wound down so did I. I was upset, yes, but my thinking remained clear and my self-esteem remained intact. I was neither nervously apologetic, entering martyr mode, nor was I clearly hurt, angry, afraid, and wanting to get the hell out of there. I wasn’t numbing out either. I was thinking GRIT. I was thinking about perseverance, resilience, diversifying, and personal integrity.

Quite a lot still needed to be done making me nervous about passing that information on to the next person who tends to be crabby, bitchy, and mean. The second thing that occurred was that meanie didn’t show. Great. If I stay, I am mad and carrying out martyrdom; if I leave, people can be left in the lurch, information doesn’t get passed on, and apathy reigns. This person did not text me to cover for her, my fearless leader did not inform me of anything nor give me direction, and this is normal. I am routinely discounted at the end of my day.

I left. Silently I went home. I walked to my car alone. In the darkness as I drove, sadness seeped in. For a few moments I was 8, or 9, or 13 and alone. I had a bad day a school and no one cares. No one will talk to me at the end of my day. No one will hear my worries or encourage me. No one will tuck me in bed. No one will ensure my safety.  Sometimes set-backs occur or almost occur because while I may survive the crash, I still die of internal injuries. Injures no one bothers to think about, including myself, until now.

I can rise out of my own instinctual fears. I can use cliquiness to find my true people, the silent treatment to stop my most offensive behaviors, snottiness as a reminder that it isn’t always me, sometimes it’s them, and the disrespect/discounting of another to raise my price.

Maybe rejection is just an arrow pointing me in a different direction.

bc

 

 

 

 

Surviving quiet success

Tags

12 step, addiction, adult children, co-dependency, fear, mental health, neglect, ptsd, recovery, self-sabotage, shame, success

After three years and four months of dedicated recovery work, I am pretty good at identifying where my insides are, and often how I am maintaining homeostasis by the accompanying behaviors. I am keenly aware that my slippery psyche is all about keeping the status quo of safety. But what my slippery psyche doesn’t ever remember, is that there is a much bigger game plan in play, including if the slippery psyche even really NEEDS it’s homeostasis maneuvers. I have to constantly evaluate whether I am actually doing things out of safety or out of fear of success. I constantly get in my own way.

Today I am very scattered (I wrote this Wednesday). Not of mind or emotion or spirit, but of ideas, lists, time, goals, and things accomplished. I feel like the cartoon character with his finger in the dyke plugging a leak only to see more leaks spring forth. Or the other visual I love is the “I Love Lucy” episode where Lucy is stuffing her mouth and clothes with the chocolates as they whiz by on the conveyor belt.  Addictions, distractions, and bad behaviors are the leaks in the dyke; long standing interests, connections between the dots, and the continual flow of new ideas are the chocolates. My anxiety climbs with each escape of water and bite of delight. Accomplishments seem to fire up my anxiety even more. Its like my brain will not allow forward movement. Some of that hesitancy is useful as it reminds me of my pitfalls, but some is just plain old fear of success.

Success, you see, is not rewarded in my family. Success of the individual is a threat to the whole, which of course does not exist in reality, only in our minds.  That is a huge problem because it is our minds that run our bodies and our bodies operate out in the world where we have to defend ourselves; so we create the whole that doesn’t exist as our cover story. Over time we come to believe the fantasy assuming it to be actual truth when it is not. Facing the truth of our untruth cuts the ropes to our conditioned false sense of safety and obligation thus freeing us to move independently.

I believe that the enormous success of autonomy can be so terrifying that all manner of chaos can break out in a person’s head. In my case, how dare I beat certain addictions, reign in certain distractions, put bad behaviors in their place. How dare I connect the dots of my truths, my story, my interests, and the possibilities surrounding me. How dare I succeed without them.

So I scatter so as to not appear together, actually have it together, or at times to be more expedient. This annoys me because my emerging healthy self wants to appear together, actually BE together, and NOT take the quick unplanned route. As long as things remain messy, undone, and uncertain I don’t have to move on. AAGGHH!!

Now-a-days I am onto myself. There is success amongst that which is scattered and it needs to be built upon because like it or not, I got back up again. Like it or not, I am a rat and there is a race afoot.

For me, and I believe others in recovery, a successful day is surviving success. When I relax and truly see myself as others see me and as others also live; I find that I am just like them. OMG! I am normal! I am not different, less than, invisible, or disposable. Because I have developed real families at work, 12-step, and church I no longer have to feel obligated to my biological family or maintain the fantasy of safety that we all built to get us through actual danger.

Sure, today there remains thousands of holes in my developmental dyke and thousands of bits float into my brain on a daily basis; but through commitment to an emotionally sober life I am learning to live with success.

bc

 

 

Risks of sharing my blog

Tags

12 step, acceptance, addiction, adult children, anxiety, co-dependency, confidence, counter-dependency, depression, development, fear, freedom, gratitude, grounding, harmony, mental health, peace, ptsd, re-parenting, recovery, respect, self-esteem, shame

Today, I awoke profoundly happy. Last night I slept more peacefully than I have in years. It wasn’t that I didn’t awake or toss and turn and destroy my bed; it was that last night, life felt okay. This okayness was a direct result of a great previous 36 or so hours. It had been a wonderful Sunday filled with a dead-on-for-me message from my awesome minister; a productive afternoon re-installing, “updating”, and managing home IT; a brief walk outside between raindrops; then a cozy social evening of beer, burgers and conversation about God and the role of play in our lives. For me, a well rounded, balanced day is Nirvana. I felt complete. I felt like my needs had been met. I felt the increase in my functioning. I felt normal. I could let go and let myself rest.

The clock read 9:30 pm by plumeria candle-light as I slipped into my bed sans feathers, but accompanied by a glass of Spanish wine. My body was willing to co-operate with the early retirement because my mind was blissfully quiet.

Saturday had even been a good night at work. As usual it wasn’t worth it to stress about achieving or to worry about the state of affairs on my unit, because as usual, the powers that be have no concern for those things; so I didn’t. I got floated to a totally chill assignment which enabled me to do things at work that I never ever do. After a couple of hours I was able to check my work and personal emails and go online. I had two hours to read up on WP blogs. I was able to respond to those who sent me “likes” and comments. I was able to read their posts, their bios, their struggles. From a dark, cold, institutionally lit room; I was able to connect via invisible radio waves sending and receiving digital data across my continent and possibly “the pond”.  (I think radio waves is correct.) In those moments I was totally loving technology. Although such connections are not as fulfilling as connecting with someone ten inches from me, I am growing to look forward to checking in on this online community of fellow travelers.

As I left work (early even) I was pumped about the blogs and those who wrote them. I felt a new surge of energy and interest. Once home, I messed with IT and wrote most of the night. At 5 am-ish I was happy enough with my work to take a nap before rising for church. Little did I know, I had just written the jist of the coming sermon. I love it when that happens because then I KNOW I am going in the right direction. 

WP blogs provide a relatively safe place to drop our masks. While I am mostly “out” in my world, this blog is anonymous and no one who knows me in person is privy to it. However, this is beginning to fray. My closest pal/friend wants to read more of my writing and usually wants to read as I post. I am hesitant to direct them to my WP blog because of the freedom of expression that it affords me. I can say anything I want on my blog and it doesn’t impact anyone around me. It is a space that I am free to be me. I’ve never had this before so it is beyond special and I want to protect it. What if I want to write about them? What if I want to explore my tendency to hang out with married men who have crazy wives?

A few people from my Monday night 12-step group have asked how to find my blog. When asked this I say that I am sorry but that I want to keep it anonymous. This is in part because I am protecting someone that I did write about and I don’t want to out them. But a large part of not wanting my fellow 12-steppers reading my blog is that I feel it would impact their growth. Some will feel less than, and unintentionally my blog could pressure them where there is already too much pressure. Some will get all ADD. My writing could influence them to stray from their path to investigate something on mine. Some will get compary. They will compare their writing with mine, their journey with mine, how I manage things with how they manage things, their life with mine. A few will be better than me in some areas and will either want to tell me so, want to critique and fix things, or improve how I do something. At least one will push me to improve the appearance of my blog, how it functions, and it’s exposure. I don’t want the stress.

Then there is the humany stuff. People will gossip, bitch, tease, compete, compensate, disengage, placate, and worry. It will be like high school.

I am beginning to think that thinking of groups of people together all the time, over a long period of time, is like high school. Silver lining: I am also beginning to think that my natural order of development can be recaptured in the HERE and NOW if I can learn to navigate my thoughts, feelings, behaviors, instincts, dreams, and the ethereal things that happen, right in my current environments. That is, I have high school all over again to finally grow-up! Now, we all know that in high school, the less said, the better.

bc

Denial: yeah or neah

Tags

12 step, addiction, adult children, anxiety, co-dependency, depression, fear, mental health, ptsd, recovery, shame

I’ve seriously got to find a rhythm that keeps me consistently rocking creative productivity. I write everyday but can’t get it posted. This is driving me nuts.

I wake to National Public Radio. To say I live by NPR would be a serious understatement. This morning I listened to I think a writer for the New York Times and I think another publication (perhaps online) about the power of Denial. I think the piece is called “In Defense of Denial”. I am not stopping to look all this up before posting because it will slow me down and likely impede me from publishing- I am choosing to not deny that too many things will pop up infront of me and get in the way of clicking “publish”.

My brief, goal directed thoughts, agree that sometimes denial is the way to go-for awhile.

Denial let me go on as I was, growing in areas that I could, until I decided not to anymore. Denial bought me time to prepare for when I absolutely had to fold and face up to being outed as someone with something seriously wrong with them. I needed to be ready for my world to crash, because it did.

Mental Health often asks the sufferer to suffer even more, and to do so in public. 12-step is the same way. In both cases, I have to put out there what is harming me in front of one or more people. I have to risk being seen as I truly am, to let others see the wounds I bare, to drop my cloking, to turn around and look at them. It’s like being naked in public. Living without denial is a form of nudity.

Now, I am able to do this. At the risk of serious backlash, I  share my demographics. I am single, middle-aged, white, educated, employed, a healthcare worker, a parent, and live in a city in the Midwest. I was able to let go of the things that propped me up. Denial got me through a lot of life I wouldn’t have otherwise survived. I understand that it is not possible for every person to give up their denial. It could even be dangerous or disastrous for them and those around them.

For much of my life, I  have lived on and off with a certain family member. I’ve taken some grief for not simply going back to that situation to finish school. A co-worker told me that I was strong, that I could have put up with my family member for the year and a half to finish if I really wanted to. Um, no. I wasn’t strong enough. I had reached my tipping point with denial and was already slidding in the opposite direction. Living with them requires maxium denial of Self. I chose not to return to their home because I chose Myself. I was no longer willing to deny my Personhood. I wanted to be an adult woman with an adult life doing the things I needed to do, that were real to me, not maintain things that were unnecessary to a healthy person. I needed to live without unreasonable demands of someone else.

I was not going to deny that every single minute movement on my part was going to have to be fought about with them. I couldn’t deny that I did not possess the energy to go to school, work, do clinicals, commute times three, and fight every single day with this person. I guess I gave up denying exhaustion. My thinking at the time, and even now, is that if I am going to get exhausted, forget it.

Exhaustion takes me down.

Giving up Denial took me down.

bc