Posted on by histrionicabutterfly

Wednesday’s Child Needs Her Some Saturday

Monday’s child is fair of face,
Tuesday’s child is full of grace;
Wednesday’s child is full of woe,
Thursday’s child has far to go;
Friday’s child is loving and giving,
Saturday’s child works hard for its living;
But the child that is born on the Sabbath day
Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay.
~ Mother Goose

 

Since Wednesday, i’ve been nearly overwhelmed with feelings of guilt, shame and embarrassment. It happens whenever i become highly dissociative. It’s a loss of control. It’s involuntary vulnerability. It’s utter failure. I want to hermit in my Little Crooked House for good. I’m dreading seeing my family again.

This is not healthy, nor is it functional. This bit of family is extremely important to me. To not see them again would be immeasurably worse. Therefore, i must find a way through this bit of woe. I am certain that i will dissociate again. I’m actively working on ways to minimise the damage that can be caused when that happens, and the aftermath of Wednesday seems so far to be evidence that i’m having some success. What needs some more work are my thoughts and feelings following those times.

So to that end, i shall list the reasons i feel guilt, shame and embarrassment:

  • loss of control;
  • being seen while out of control;
  • doing things that are uncharacteristic;
  • doing things that reflect poorly upon my character;
  • damaging relationships/property;
  • reliance on others for information.

 

There’s probably more, but those are what’s coming to mind. (I can’t think on one thing for too long or i risk getting stuck in it and losing focus and discernment.)

 

I was very depressed upon waking this morning. The weight of it all was so heavy. I was tired and lethargic and my dreams had drained me of most of my reserve energy. I got up to pee and went back to bed. Sometimes i hide in my dreams -even the vexing ones- because at least it’s not here and now. The thing is though, i seem to’ve come too far along in my personal growth to do that for very long. Oh yay. So i’m laying there filled with anxiety because i know i can’t do this forever and i know it doesn’t help and i know i’ve gotta face the feelings and face my family and i know. I just know, now. I know every time i’m not the person i want to be, every time i do something i’d have preferred not to do, is now a proving ground. It’s an opportunity to learn and grow and be/do better next time. (The previous sentence was brought to you by: Gobs of Sarcasm. Are you running low on witty contempt? Well we’ve got GOBS!)

So yeah, i got up. I already knew i needed to write about it, and i had a pretty good idea what i was dealing with that needed some reexamination by way of reminder, coupled with a good, hard tweak.

I cannot control what other people think or feel about me. And not only do i really hate that, but it scares the shit outta me.

 

I spent the majority of my life knowing something was different/wrong/broken about me, but not exactly what it was. I worked very hard and for a long time, to try and figure it out. Once i did, i wanted to go back to every person that had ever disliked or just misunderstood me and explain why they were wrong to do so. Heh. I set about putting people right and fixing my life. And it worked really well. (GOBS!)

 

Okay, what really happened was, people thought i was weirder than they did before. They overwhelmingly did not care and continued to dislike me, and more often than not – they didn’t believe me. I spent a few years skipping around singing, “Neener  neener, you were wrong because i was sick and it wasn’t my fault!” /tralala

I didn’t even give most of them any details. I just told them that my childhood had made my brain sick and that was sometimes why i acted the way i did and sometimes did weird/crappy stuff. And i was generally just rejected all over again. This particular, very important member of my family was one of them.

So there, that’s why i’m in this awful place. I lost control in front of someone who matters a great deal to me. A person who rejected both me and my diagnoses at one time, and although they now no longer reject me, that other subject hasn’t come up yet. I wanted to make it a non-issue by keeping it out of our interactions, but i wasn’t able to on Wednesday. They assure me that everything’s fine, but i feel very not-fine. What do i do?

 

This is why i dragged my ass outta bed – because i know exactly what to do.

I haven’t done all this work for all these years for nothing.

 

When i didn’t get the results that i’d expected from telling people i had REASONS, i wondered why not. I pondered for a long time, and as i continued to work on myself, gathering information, doing the work my therapist told me to, learning about who i am and what i want and what i think… I figured out why, or at least i came to a way of looking at it that gave me peace and allowed me to accept reality and let it be:

  • what people think about me is none of my business;
  • i can’t control what people say about me when i’m not around;
  • i can’t convince anyone of anything without their cooperation;
  • being disliked won’t kill me (it hasn’t so far);
  • being misunderstood won’t kill me (see above);
  • the truth is the truth, regardless of whether or not it’s believed;
  • belief is subjective;
  • i don’t owe anyone an explanation, unless i’ve done harm;
  • it’s not always about me;
  • awareness and respect of my personal boundaries is paramount to healthy interactions with others.

 

I don’t know if my family member believes me. I don’t know if they understand me. What i do know is that, based on results, they accept me and want me in their life. And i veryveryvery much want that, too. I must let it go and be what it is. They’re allowed to think and feel what they will, and it’s only my business inasmuch as they care to share. There may be fallout in the relationship as a result of what happened, and if i want to maintain this relationship, i must handle it within the parameters as they’ve been defined.

This guilt, shame, and embarrassment, while valid, are secondary to what is really going on – and that is fear of rejection. The absolute core issue of my life. I must keep this in mind, and recognise that it has a hair trigger. The intensity of my reaction is in alignment with this, but out of proportion to the event. I will check myself accordingly, and i will draw peace and calm from knowing this. I will acquire confidence, respect, and esteem for myself from figuring this out. I’ll be stronger and more functional next time.

I’m looking forward to being bonny and blithe tomorrow.

 

*** Life as me: It’s as simple as that. ***

 

Love and Peace,

~H~

 

 

Posted on by histrionicabutterfly

I Made My Friends Like J. F. Sebastian

“There’s some of me in you.”

~J. F., Blade Runner

Friends. Yeah. Looooaded subject for this chicky right here. So much so that i don’t talk about it. It is, perhaps, when i feel the most vulnerable. I had no friends growing up. Not really. I was rarely allowed to hang out with other kids after school, and hey, i wasn’t asked that often. There was a time in grades 7 and 8 when my mom was trying to appear more normal, so i actually had a few friends to sleep over, but that was about it, i think. We couldn’t usually have anyone over because our house was a pigsty. And the bigger my mother got, the worse the condition of the house.

With the exception of 3yrs in cities, the rest of my secondary schooling was done in small towns, where i was quickly branded weird. I was always either close to, or at the very bottom any social ladder. When i finally escaped the back and forth hell of school and home, i went to work in another town. There i was able to turn my attention to making friends. I wasn’t very good at it, but i made 2 very dear friends that accepted me and we bonded. I think it was partly because they were broken in some of the same ways. I lost one of them while trying to please my religious community. I’d give a lot for the opportunity to apologise to her and make amends. I’ve had a few best friends since then, but they’re all gone now. One i hated to leave behind but i had to – the only friendship i’ve ever walked away from, and it pains me to this day. Another one was based on a super-sick dynamic, and so when she got mad and stopped talking to me, i stopped kissing her ass the way i’d always done, so BOOM! friendship over. The last best friend i lost is a betrayal that still hurts – but i think i’m better off.

That last loss made me crawl way up inside myself and i haven’t been that close to anyone outside my husband since then. It’s been a tough job, this figuring out who i really am. I read in books and hear in love songs about the woman who’s a study in contradictions, and it seems so romantic. You ask my husband though… He’ll tell you that an ambiguously ambivalent woman will test a man’s mettle. It’s not romantic at all. My parents taught me on the one hand that we were better than everyone, and i was on this earth for a special purpose. But the purpose seemed to be as a receptacle for their anger and hate. Which creates complications for any future relationships.

I was told by more than one friend they were moving on because there was a certain level of connection they couldn’t get to with me. I was a closed door. They were right. There were others who dropped me because i was unreliable. I might show, i might not. Can’t fault them for that, either. Then there were those who got fed up with being the only one who initiated contact. Totally accurate. I’m terrible at keeping in touch.

I want human connection, but i’m terrified of being rejected. I have a long history with rejection. I don’t care for it and i’d prefer to avoid it if it’s all the same to you, thankyouverymuch. I’m a let’s-hang-out-thanks-now-piss-off kind of person, and who has time for that? It’s not fair. Besides, my last couple of attempts at making close friends were brutal. I was terrible at it. I’ve been stripping down to the real me under all the protective barriers and brokenness, but i’m still not ready for prime time. So the only people i hang out with are my husband, my kids, and my grandkids.

I don’t know if i’ll ever be a people person again. I mean, i love humans. I love y’all soooo much, but i’ve got a lot to learn about how to be a good friend. I’m gonna have to start with the family i made, though. Seriously, some of folks can be heinous. I’m not well enough or strong enough not to take it personally. I’m looking for rationality, normalcy, and above all, balance.

I’m truly fortunate to have my Little Crooked House and the man-thingy and my lovely young men and their families. I also have an online group of friends that has sustained and even saved me, many times. I know some scoff at such relationships (and some are pretty scoffable… scoff-worthy… whatever, scoff off), but they are an integral part of how far i’ve come. A group of friends i’ve had for over 10yrs, that accept me for exactly who i am and where i’m at, even if i don’t have a clue who or where that may be. They’ve been a safe place for me to talk about things, work things out, and try on new ideas. I parade them around and see if i like the fit. The friends i’ve found here have been both boon and balm for my horn of plenty-crazy. So, wherever i land on the social spectrum – i’m covered.

Love and Peace,
~H~

IMAGE: Luis Villa del Campo, Prague’s Toy Museum

Posted on by histrionicabutterfly

(No More) Mindshaker Meltdown

That old vicious cycle screaming within
As I talk of the building with the crashin’ about
~ Mother Love Bone, Mindshaker Meltdown

A big part of managing my anxiety has come from not thinking about certain things. I’ve had to learn how to control my thoughts. If thoughts were bugs, i’d be Willie Scott in the Temple of Doom. I had to reach my hand into the little tunnel full of the creepiest and crawliest of them in order to release myself from the prison i’d created in my own mind.

How can i stand there, covered in little fears with whispering legs, and then willingly place my questing hand into a black hole filled with more chittering terrors?
Well, i don’t think about it, that’s how.

Wrangling my thoughts seemed an impossible task. I was always at their mercy: racing thoughts, invasive ones too, obsessions aplenty. All cavorting through the big carnival tent of my skull, carousing with impunity. I was just Weary Willie (different Willie – look him up) who came in to sweep up all the Cracker Jack and elephant shit when it was finally over.
I grew sick and tired of being at their whims, various and sundry. I also got pissed off. My brain, admittedly a bit of a fixer upper, has some big, beautiful windows that merely needed a good cleaning, and the open beam cathedral ceiling is really quite spectacular. If i didn’t agree to take on the job of getting her marketable, she may very well have been razed to the ground.

No promises, but i think i’m done with the analogies for now.

Anyone who’s been in the grips of runaway thinking knows how hard it is to stop. And that thing you know you shouldn’t think about, because you’ll be lost to time and reason, too. I emerged from those dismal sessions empty of everything save self-loathing. Some period of depression always followed. Then the slow work of picking myself up, carrying on, and attempting to get traction and maybe some momentum (? HA!) would begin.

Anger came to my rescue, as it so often does. I was laying there in a wrung out, pitiful heap of emotional sludge, the echoes of those words still keeping me company, when i just got angry about the whole thing. The fed-right-the-fuck-up kind of mad. I told myself enough, i wasn’t going to live or die at the mercy of transient thoughts. I decided i would no longer allow those particularly sticky ones to gain purchase in my mind.

At first i thought it was going to be one of the hardest things i’ve ever done, but the wonderful surprise is how easy it’s been. Once i realised how adept i already was at not thinking about some things, i just had to apply the same technique to thoughts i’d believed i was powerless to resist. Take perceived faux pas, for instance. If i did something in a social situation that i thought was stupid or wrong, it was all i could think about, almost from the moment i’d done it, until well after it was over.

It would start with embarrassment. Exclamations of horror, replete with histrionic declarations (I’m never going back to the grocery store, EVER!) and laden with cursing (Oh shit, goddamnit!) Then would come the pointless questions i never had an answer for, that only dragged me further down (Why do i always do that? WHY?!) Until finally i’d be nothing but a puddle of nihilistic ennui (What’s the point? I’ll always be this way.)

I deal with that thought immediately now. First i acknowledge it, then i do a quick run-through of how it’s gonna go if i allow it to overwhelm my brain. (HINT: Not well.) Next i ask myself if there’s something tangible i can do to relieve the anxiety. Like, could i call up the person i was talking to and clarify what i meant to say or apologise? Could i ask what their perception was of our interchange? If yes, i do so, and if not, i remind myself of all the potential for negative fallout if i have too much of a think on this thing. And then i distract myself. Like, ASAP. My current favourite is housework done to loud rock n’ roll.

It’s been working.

If i can be at a family function and not give a single thought to what so-and-so over there did to me when i was twelve, i can not think about how i laughed too shrilly at dude’s joke when he handed me my coffee and doughnut.

If i can look at the beautiful thing at the store that i want but can’t afford, moving along to the thing that’s not perfect but good enough and in my price range, then i needn’t obsessively mourn lost relationships.

If i can step back and let my children and other loved ones make their own life choices, even if they’re not what i would personally choose for them, then i needn’t suffer the pervasive angst of the life i might have lived.

I can and am doing this, one thought at a time. Is this benefitting me? No. Is there anything i can do about it? No. Am i willing to pay the price for giving in to it? No.

So… It’s Mother Love Bone and window washing then?

HELL YES.

Have a weekend, will ya? I will, too.

Love and Peace,
~H~



IMAGE: Austrian National Library

Posted on by histrionicabutterfly · 6 Comments

Rub ‘Til It Bleeds

The title made you wince right? Heh, me too. Every time. While it’s from a song by PJ Harvey, whether or not it refers to anything i’m about to touch on would be open to interpretation and debate (which is how she may prefer it). What the lyric is for me, is a very apt description of what anxiety is like.

Ever since putting up this blog, i’ve been experiencing anxiety. The kind of anxiety where describing it to a friend would go like this:

Friend: Are you okay?
Me: Why? What am i doing?
*panics*
Friend: You seem anxious.
Me: Anxiety?
*eyes bulge*
Do i have anxiety?
*shrill laughter*
Lemme tell ya ’bout anxiety!
*twitches*

As with most intense emotions, i wasn’t initially aware of feeling that way yesterday. I was out of sorts due to an issue in the home, but i knew that would be dealt with later, so i put it away until then. Hey, i can compartmentalise thoughts, feelings, and situations like i used to play that old Hasbro game Perfection – and i could finish that with time left over.

I began to realise something was off when i went to see a friend. I noticed that my thoughts were racing. Now bear in mind that social situations of any kind already cause my thoughts to speed up a fair bit, but this was far worse than usual. She doesn’t make me feel any more uncomfortable than i generally do being around people. In fact, it’s probably less, as i like her and think she’s a nice, kind person. Nevertheless, my thoughts were racing so fast that my conversation with her was zigzagging all over the place, like one of those jerks in rush hour that darts in and out of lanes and never signals.

In the time it took for the man-thingy to pick me up and get me something to eat at a local restaurant, i was utterly out of sorts. I nearly took his head off for no reason. Fortunately someone we know was working there, which kept me from activating beast mode. Instead, i was able to realise i’d gone off the rails somewhere, and i had to figure out where and why.

So here i am today with my answers. It’s the blog, and it’s because as soon as i put it up, i began picking apart ways it could go wrong. Ways that could compromise my pursuit of happiness or otherwise blow up in my face. To avoid that, some parameters seem necessary:

  1. If you’re someone i know, especially locally, know i absolutely will NEVER discuss your personal business, nor will i discuss specifics of our interactions. If we have any issues between us, they’ll never be fodder for this blog. I was never much for gossip, and these days i don’t tolerate it at all. There will be no identifiable details of any kind, ever.
  2. This is my new blog. It is not my old blog. The old blog was a purge, which i’ve now done, and i’ll only refer to it in an ancillary way. It was locked down long ago. I’ve also learned a great deal about my particular mental diagnoses. That, coupled with knowing some of the methods used to cause me harm, has enabled me to sort through what happened. Some i know with surety, some i’m reasonably confident, and some may have been coloured by illness, drugs, terror, or just the way the brain functions with regard to memory. This blog is not that blog.

This morning started with the terrible kind of anxiety that threatens to make you a prisoner of your bed. I woke with a headache, and my face and jaw were on fire, despite the mouth guard i now wear every night. My throat ached as it often does when i’ve spent the night dreaming emotionally charged dreams. I wanted so badly to escape back into the relative unconsciousness of sleep, but i couldn’t. It was the kind of anxiety where, if i’m able to drift back to some sort of almost-asleepness, it won’t last long. There’s this dread that grips me at regular intervals, like a knife in my chest. It causes a painful twinge, my guts to drop, and my head to explode like a piñata full of poisoned candy that i’m helpless to resist eating. It fills me up with terrible scenarios, dozens of what-ifs, all played to terrible conclusions. It holds me tight in its arms and drags me further down into despair.

I’ve fought this closet monster and won though, more than once. So i got my ass out of bed and forced myself to do things i’ve put in place to do when i’m in the grip of anxiety. A set morning routine that quickly affords me a sense of accomplishment and functionality. A regularity that calms me and buoys my morale and my mood, which in turn brightens my outlook. It renews my resolve to move steadily forward, turning my mind away from myself, towards more egalitarian pursuits.

Friend: Are you feeling better now?
Me: Ever so. *smiles*

IMAGE: ian dooley