Friday
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Month - years? - ago someone commented to me that eventually I'd have to make my mind up. But how? How do I work out whether I'm keeping the emotional stuff "over there", away from me, or whether I'm malingering?
I can’t remember if you’ve looked at the faking/malingering//undeserving thought streams as a function of avoidance or survival or both?
***
I’m splitting the two just from personal experience with “I’m fine.” <<< My personal 9.9 on the subjective units of distress scale. Sometimes I’m fine because I actually believe I am (I’m not, I’ve learned I never use those 2 words when I’m actually fine, they’re my personal 3 second fuse / 1 minute to midnight/ DefCon2/ Hail Mary warning signs if I’m paying attention) ... other times “I’m fine.” Because I need to be.
The first one is almost pure avoidance. I honestly believe I’m fine in the moment. Nothing else matters and nothing I’ve ever experienced is capable of contradicting it. It’s wholly self-protective, and goes waaaaay beyond denial, although that’s a piece of it. When “I’m fine” I’m capable of anything, and nothing can stop me. (You may notice the cognitive distortions in this ;)). Everything I cannot deal with is tabled. Thoughts, emotions, consequences, all neatly sidestepped. Probably one very small step away from delusional, and definitely deep in disassociation of a few types, it allows me to be exactly as I need to be. It’s not putting on a brave face, or stiff upper lip, although other people have confused it with that... thinking I’m being tough. Nope. I may be dying, but I’m not letting that on for others benefit (done that in spades, and that is being strong), but because I actually believe it. Later, I can do a more rational assessment, but not in the moment.
The second one? Is an attempt to reach that place. To BE fine, even though I most definitely know I’m not, I need to be, so I’m forcing it. It’s just as subconscious as the first one.
To give an example of types...
1) Avoidance. if someone is trying to get me to go to A&E? I’ll think they’re nuts. I have no reason to go to A&E. (Your leg is broken). What? Ok. I guess it is. I mean I knew that. I tied it up didn’t I? No more bleeding. Well. Not a lot. Still don’t need to go, I’m perfectly fine. (I have literally had this argument, compound fracture. I can even strap up my leg, because it’s slowing me down and making me puke every time the bone grates on itself, but honestly not see it as a problem worth stopping what I’m doing, much less waste anyone else’s time on). When forced to go to A&E, I will be embarrassed and apologetic, because seriously, I’m fine. It doesn’t matter how many other people are like “Your leg is broken. Really broken. That’s a big deal.” It makes as much logical sense to me as being out of strawberry jam or stone ground mustard being a big deal. It’s not. The artery is on the other side, I live in a country with clean water and antibiotics to hand so infection is unlikely, sure it’s painful, & there’s damage that will take some time to heal, but I’m not going to die from it, or need it off, or anything. So c’mon. It’s just a broken leg. It’s not an emergency. I’m not going to die if I don’t drop everything and go for it looked at. They won’t even be able to cast it until the swelling goes down in a few days, stop making such a fuss. I’m so so sorry I’m wasting your time, doctor. Please, see anyone who actually needs help. I’m fine. <<< I know exactly where this comes from, it comes from a place of having much bigger problems, so all the “little” stuff, the stuff that’s not actually going to kill me right this minute, gets tabled. I’ll deal with the little stuff, the non lethal stuff later. Which leads me to my next point. Because these two things start to blend.
2) Survival. If I’m laying on the ground in screaming blinding pain because I just broke my leg? I’m usually not screaming. I’m usually repeating over and over and over I’m Fine I’m Fine I’m Fine I’m Fine I’m Fine I’m Fine through gritted teeth and barely above a whisper (quiet, always always be as quiet as possible when weak/injured/exposed don’t let anyone know how bad it is < one of my core beliefs). Not because I am fine. Because I need to be. I need to stop writhing on the floor and DIG DEEP and suck it up, and assess the injury, and stop the bleeding / stabilize the bone, and and and and. <<< It has never in my adult life occurred to me that someone else could do this / yell for help, wait for help, etc.. Largely, because when I really f*ck myself over I’m usually either alone, or I didn’t f*ck myself over it was someone else, so I not only have to sort myself pronto, but also deal with that person. Preferably without dying. So it creates this split, of where I actually am (f*cked, completely f*cked) and where I need to be (fine, I need to be fine)... so I start pushing everything that is too big, everything that is f*cking me over into a box. Cut it off from myself. There. The f*cked over mess is in a box. Me? I’m fine. ...and you guessed it, that leads me right back to the first example. The worse off I actually am? The more fine I make myself, until I believe it. Because it’s true. And it is. (Sort of, not really, but mental splitting is hard on language).
***
I picked a physical example of a broken leg, but these 2 pieces simply exist across all of everything in my life. Not a cognitive distortion. Fundamentally how I operate.
Knowing I do that? Doesn’t actually stop me from doing it. But it DOES let me act differently. Because I know that if “I’m fine” has become part of my vocabulary I’m either in avoidance, or survival mode, or more commonly both which each feeding into the other. So it lets me listen to my instincts, without being a slave to them. Okay. I’m in avoidance/survival mode. How do I work around that? ((Hint: Not by looking for proof for/against being fine.))
The first one is almost pure avoidance. I honestly believe I’m fine in the moment. Nothing else matters and nothing I’ve ever experienced is capable of contradicting it. It’s wholly self-protective, and goes waaaaay beyond denial, although that’s a piece of it. When “I’m fine” I’m capable of anything, and nothing can stop me. (You may notice the cognitive distortions in this ;)). Everything I cannot deal with is tabled. Thoughts, emotions, consequences, all neatly sidestepped. Probably one very small step away from delusional, and definitely deep in disassociation of a few types, it allows me to be exactly as I need to be. It’s not putting on a brave face, or stiff upper lip, although other people have confused it with that... thinking I’m being tough. Nope. I may be dying, but I’m not letting that on for others benefit (done that in spades, and that is being strong), but because I actually believe it. Later, I can do a more rational assessment, but not in the moment.
The second one? Is an attempt to reach that place. To BE fine, even though I most definitely know I’m not, I need to be, so I’m forcing it. It’s just as subconscious as the first one.
To give an example of types...
1) Avoidance. if someone is trying to get me to go to A&E? I’ll think they’re nuts. I have no reason to go to A&E. (Your leg is broken). What? Ok. I guess it is. I mean I knew that. I tied it up didn’t I? No more bleeding. Well. Not a lot. Still don’t need to go, I’m perfectly fine. (I have literally had this argument, compound fracture. I can even strap up my leg, because it’s slowing me down and making me puke every time the bone grates on itself, but honestly not see it as a problem worth stopping what I’m doing, much less waste anyone else’s time on). When forced to go to A&E, I will be embarrassed and apologetic, because seriously, I’m fine. It doesn’t matter how many other people are like “Your leg is broken. Really broken. That’s a big deal.” It makes as much logical sense to me as being out of strawberry jam or stone ground mustard being a big deal. It’s not. The artery is on the other side, I live in a country with clean water and antibiotics to hand so infection is unlikely, sure it’s painful, & there’s damage that will take some time to heal, but I’m not going to die from it, or need it off, or anything. So c’mon. It’s just a broken leg. It’s not an emergency. I’m not going to die if I don’t drop everything and go for it looked at. They won’t even be able to cast it until the swelling goes down in a few days, stop making such a fuss. I’m so so sorry I’m wasting your time, doctor. Please, see anyone who actually needs help. I’m fine. <<< I know exactly where this comes from, it comes from a place of having much bigger problems, so all the “little” stuff, the stuff that’s not actually going to kill me right this minute, gets tabled. I’ll deal with the little stuff, the non lethal stuff later. Which leads me to my next point. Because these two things start to blend.
2) Survival. If I’m laying on the ground in screaming blinding pain because I just broke my leg? I’m usually not screaming. I’m usually repeating over and over and over I’m Fine I’m Fine I’m Fine I’m Fine I’m Fine I’m Fine through gritted teeth and barely above a whisper (quiet, always always be as quiet as possible when weak/injured/exposed don’t let anyone know how bad it is < one of my core beliefs). Not because I am fine. Because I need to be. I need to stop writhing on the floor and DIG DEEP and suck it up, and assess the injury, and stop the bleeding / stabilize the bone, and and and and. <<< It has never in my adult life occurred to me that someone else could do this / yell for help, wait for help, etc.. Largely, because when I really f*ck myself over I’m usually either alone, or I didn’t f*ck myself over it was someone else, so I not only have to sort myself pronto, but also deal with that person. Preferably without dying. So it creates this split, of where I actually am (f*cked, completely f*cked) and where I need to be (fine, I need to be fine)... so I start pushing everything that is too big, everything that is f*cking me over into a box. Cut it off from myself. There. The f*cked over mess is in a box. Me? I’m fine. ...and you guessed it, that leads me right back to the first example. The worse off I actually am? The more fine I make myself, until I believe it. Because it’s true. And it is. (Sort of, not really, but mental splitting is hard on language).
***
I picked a physical example of a broken leg, but these 2 pieces simply exist across all of everything in my life. Not a cognitive distortion. Fundamentally how I operate.
Knowing I do that? Doesn’t actually stop me from doing it. But it DOES let me act differently. Because I know that if “I’m fine” has become part of my vocabulary I’m either in avoidance, or survival mode, or more commonly both which each feeding into the other. So it lets me listen to my instincts, without being a slave to them. Okay. I’m in avoidance/survival mode. How do I work around that? ((Hint: Not by looking for proof for/against being fine.))
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