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- #109
I am feeling like a physical and emotional wreck today. Woke up in the middle of the night sick again and in a really anxious/fearful/needy/disorieted state again. I don't know why this is happening. I don't know if I just have a virus I can't kick, or if I am processing stuff unconsciously and it's just bubbling up to the surface as more physical and emotional symptoms with no grounding in anything that seems real. It's just a state-of-being kind of thing that I can't seem to connect to much. I was sick last weekend, then again on Thursday...both times with a fever which suggests a virus. But most nights I've been waking up multiple times through the night with these panic-attacky kinds of physical and emotional feelings. Then I had a visual migraine on Friday. That freaked me out, but I figured out what it was. I never knew there was such a thing. The images of what it looks like that I found online were strikingly similar to what I saw, so at least I know I'm not imagining that! I've also lost a bit more weight which I'm glad about, but it is odd too after all these years of trying, I am just not able to eat much without feeling sick.
Yesterday was a very, very strange day. I had a very quiet morning and was feeling good both emotionally and physically. In this past week, the pain has loosened up noticeably for long periods of time (hasn't happened like this since the very beginning of all of it), and I was feeling really hopeful and happy. It is becoming clear to me that at least some of it results from my existing in a permanent state of crisis.
I had agreed a while back to host a house party fundraiser for this great social action/social justice group that is doing really important work both on immigration rights and prison reform. I was excited, but nervous too because I've been trying so hard to slow way down and NOT do these kinds of things. I didn't realize when I scheduled the date that my husband would be gone all day on one of his insanely multi-tasking professional adventures, so I was on my own. But it was okay...I had nothing else planned really. Except that my mother had called on Friday to encourage me to bring my daughter over to where she lives because a bunch of 4H kids were bringing their pet rabbits to visit with the residents. She really wanted us to come. I thought it might be fun for my daughter who loves rabbits, but I said no because I am trying not to pack too many things in to a day.
Then in the morning, I realized my children have not seen my mother since Christmas, and she is getting quite insistent on seeing them. I started wondering whether I have been playing out some weird flashbacky-transference thing by avoiding having my kids have any contact with her. Well, not wondering actually--realizing that's what I have been doing. Especially with my daughter. I find it intolerable to be in the same space with my daughter and my mother. It becomes unbelievably toxic. So, what do I do yesterday? I decide that maybe going to see the rabbits would be a way to get my daughter and mother to see each other in a public kind of way that would diffuse some of the difficulty for me. Bad choice on my part.
I'm writing about it here because what happened over the course of an hour yesterday at this assisted living place was both informative to me of my own issues and totally confusing and upsetting to me too. This is really long, and boring, and detailed, so anybody reading this "diary" be forewarned :)
We arrived as the kids were bringing in the rabbits, and the community room was full of people. I told my daughter she could stay there and get a seat up front so she could see, but she was too nervous to stay there by herself. We went up to my mother's apartment to get her (she is never where she says she'll be, when she says she'll be). It took a lot of verbal maneuvering to get her down to the presentation in a timely way. By the time we got there, there were no seats together. I got my mother to sit down, finally, and encouraged my daughter to go to the seat in the front, away from my mother and closer to the rabbits, but she chose to sit in the seat behind my mother. Right away, I felt this was going to end badly. I took the seat in the front, 2 rows away.
Part of the key here in this weird scenario is that my mother heard me encourage my daughter to go up front. I don't know if any of this would have happened otherwise. As soon as I sat down, I heard my mother say to my daughter at least six times (and at pretty much full volume) over the next 5 or 6 minutes that she should go up front, and my daughter saying, with ever more insistency, "No, it's fine, Gram, I'm fine where I am. Let's just watch." I tried to ignore it, but quickly became afraid that if it continued, my daughter would blow up and stomp out in angry tears (she does that), or that my mother's repeated insistences would interfere with the program and bother the other people there. So I went back and invited my daughter to come sit up front with me, on the floor, or sharing the seat. My real goal at that point was to get my daughter away from my mother. I didn't realize, until later, that by doing this, I was just putting my daughter in between my mother and me in a perverse playing out of parts of myself. I made the seating suggestion; my mother picked up on it and, like a pit-bull, made it her own and used it to try to coerce my daughter; in an attempt to keep some sanity I then played right into it, making my daughter feel doubly-controlled. When she refused again, I went back to the front and just focused on the rabbits and breathing and trying to ground myself. No blow up occurred.
Then, the 4H kids started to bring the rabbits around so people could pet them. I felt so happy watching the people around me interact with the rabbits and the children. Watched one tired-looking woman come to life--a sparkle in her eye and a beaming smile on her face as she stroked the Dutch Lops with the back of her gnarled hand. And the crumpled man sitting behind me sat up straight and held out both his hands as a 7-year old offered her pet to him to hold. Big smile. I loved it. It was magic.
I turned to watch as my mother petted a rabbit, then my daughter. Both were smiling. Then my mother started ordering the child (about the same age as my daughter) to let my daughter hold the rabbit. It's hard to even explain the next ten minutes or so. My mother was completely focused on telling my daughter how much she "should" enjoy holding the rabbits, and other things she "should" do and feel. My daughter's face was bright red. I could tell how hard she was trying not to be rude to her grandmother--she was just going further and further into herself--crouched over the rabbit, stroking it, looking only at it. But her body was totally tense. I went over and took my mother's hand in such a way that she had to turn around in her seat, away from my daughter. I said, "Mom, why don't you just let S do what she's doing and you focus on enjoying the bunnies!" I directed her attention to another rabbit. She absentmindedly petted it, and started in on me: "I just want S to enjoy the rabbits. I thought she would enjoy the rabbits. Why is she acting this way? What's wrong with her? Why isn't she excited? You should get her a rabbit...etc."
This went round a few more times with me trying to redirect, and my mother going back and forth between me and my daughter. I became increasingly direct with her. "Mom, she isn't enjoying the rabbits because you will not stop telling her what to do. Please stop talking to her. Just focus on your own experience, okay! You love animals!" She just could not stop. Then she shifted her attention to the other kids and said something nice to one that was completely insensitive to the other (I saw the other child's reaction). Then, I felt like I had to get out of there fast. Felt like I was trapped. But I couldn't just leave my mother and daughter there...couldn't leave my daughter to fend for herself (not sure why, as she is 12, but she knows I would be upset if she went stalking out...) Very emotionally confusing moment for me, and I could tell my mother was getting angry and winding up, so I had to diffuse it. It took me another 10 minutes to get them out of the room.
I took them to the sun room. My daughter sat on the other side of the room. My mother kept trying to engage her about the friggin' rabbits and I kept trying to change the subject. Then she got on to sports and asked S about her new athletics sweatshirt with the soccer ball on it. S perked up a little (very proud). Then my mother twisted it again and started telling Sarah that she really should play tennis and why doesn't she play tennis instead of soccer because it is so much better (my mother was a tennis player). And it went on and on from there until S was almost in tears again. S wouldn't look at my mother and talked to the floor. She kept catching my eye and mouthing "Can't we leave now?"
Then my mother asked me how I was feeling (she knew I had been sick twice this week). I told her better but still a bit under the weather. Then she started telling me about what I had done that made me sick. That I should have taken time off after last weekend and then I wouldn't have gotten sick again. I told her I had taken Monday off. She said I had not. (I DID, but still she made me second guess myself!) This is an old story--I am always at fault for being sick...it is always something I have done that brought it onto me. We had the same argument on the phone on Thursday night. I called her on it: "It is NOT MY FAULT that I got sick. Stop saying that!" and when she wouldn't, I said, "I'm hanging up now," and I did. I think what's under this argument is that I have not been able to take her out because I have been sick and busy.
Finally, it seemed like time to go. We hugged each other and said, "I love you," and "Goodbye," and all that, with the understanding we would be getting together on Tuesday for my mother's birthday.
The whole thing, which felt like an ordeal, took less than an hour and left me totally stressed and overwhelmed and feeling this odd sense of unreality. And felt the pain returning...more tense than screaming pain, but back. Managed to suck it all up, and get home. Processed a bit with my daughter about what had happened. There was much to do to get ready for the party and I had 30 minutes before people were coming to set up the presentation for the social action group. I made an unusual decision to lie down and rest for 15 minutes before I dove into cleanup and setup. That was one good thing I did.
The party was fine, and I actually met a very cool person who I felt immediately connected to. He is a UU minister (there were a bunch of them there). We were talking about spiritual paths. He suggested a spirituality group that meets twice per month and sounds like it's exactly what I'm looking for. I am really excited.
By the end of the night. I was in screaming pain. Ugh. More later.
Yesterday was a very, very strange day. I had a very quiet morning and was feeling good both emotionally and physically. In this past week, the pain has loosened up noticeably for long periods of time (hasn't happened like this since the very beginning of all of it), and I was feeling really hopeful and happy. It is becoming clear to me that at least some of it results from my existing in a permanent state of crisis.
I had agreed a while back to host a house party fundraiser for this great social action/social justice group that is doing really important work both on immigration rights and prison reform. I was excited, but nervous too because I've been trying so hard to slow way down and NOT do these kinds of things. I didn't realize when I scheduled the date that my husband would be gone all day on one of his insanely multi-tasking professional adventures, so I was on my own. But it was okay...I had nothing else planned really. Except that my mother had called on Friday to encourage me to bring my daughter over to where she lives because a bunch of 4H kids were bringing their pet rabbits to visit with the residents. She really wanted us to come. I thought it might be fun for my daughter who loves rabbits, but I said no because I am trying not to pack too many things in to a day.
Then in the morning, I realized my children have not seen my mother since Christmas, and she is getting quite insistent on seeing them. I started wondering whether I have been playing out some weird flashbacky-transference thing by avoiding having my kids have any contact with her. Well, not wondering actually--realizing that's what I have been doing. Especially with my daughter. I find it intolerable to be in the same space with my daughter and my mother. It becomes unbelievably toxic. So, what do I do yesterday? I decide that maybe going to see the rabbits would be a way to get my daughter and mother to see each other in a public kind of way that would diffuse some of the difficulty for me. Bad choice on my part.
I'm writing about it here because what happened over the course of an hour yesterday at this assisted living place was both informative to me of my own issues and totally confusing and upsetting to me too. This is really long, and boring, and detailed, so anybody reading this "diary" be forewarned :)
We arrived as the kids were bringing in the rabbits, and the community room was full of people. I told my daughter she could stay there and get a seat up front so she could see, but she was too nervous to stay there by herself. We went up to my mother's apartment to get her (she is never where she says she'll be, when she says she'll be). It took a lot of verbal maneuvering to get her down to the presentation in a timely way. By the time we got there, there were no seats together. I got my mother to sit down, finally, and encouraged my daughter to go to the seat in the front, away from my mother and closer to the rabbits, but she chose to sit in the seat behind my mother. Right away, I felt this was going to end badly. I took the seat in the front, 2 rows away.
Part of the key here in this weird scenario is that my mother heard me encourage my daughter to go up front. I don't know if any of this would have happened otherwise. As soon as I sat down, I heard my mother say to my daughter at least six times (and at pretty much full volume) over the next 5 or 6 minutes that she should go up front, and my daughter saying, with ever more insistency, "No, it's fine, Gram, I'm fine where I am. Let's just watch." I tried to ignore it, but quickly became afraid that if it continued, my daughter would blow up and stomp out in angry tears (she does that), or that my mother's repeated insistences would interfere with the program and bother the other people there. So I went back and invited my daughter to come sit up front with me, on the floor, or sharing the seat. My real goal at that point was to get my daughter away from my mother. I didn't realize, until later, that by doing this, I was just putting my daughter in between my mother and me in a perverse playing out of parts of myself. I made the seating suggestion; my mother picked up on it and, like a pit-bull, made it her own and used it to try to coerce my daughter; in an attempt to keep some sanity I then played right into it, making my daughter feel doubly-controlled. When she refused again, I went back to the front and just focused on the rabbits and breathing and trying to ground myself. No blow up occurred.
Then, the 4H kids started to bring the rabbits around so people could pet them. I felt so happy watching the people around me interact with the rabbits and the children. Watched one tired-looking woman come to life--a sparkle in her eye and a beaming smile on her face as she stroked the Dutch Lops with the back of her gnarled hand. And the crumpled man sitting behind me sat up straight and held out both his hands as a 7-year old offered her pet to him to hold. Big smile. I loved it. It was magic.
I turned to watch as my mother petted a rabbit, then my daughter. Both were smiling. Then my mother started ordering the child (about the same age as my daughter) to let my daughter hold the rabbit. It's hard to even explain the next ten minutes or so. My mother was completely focused on telling my daughter how much she "should" enjoy holding the rabbits, and other things she "should" do and feel. My daughter's face was bright red. I could tell how hard she was trying not to be rude to her grandmother--she was just going further and further into herself--crouched over the rabbit, stroking it, looking only at it. But her body was totally tense. I went over and took my mother's hand in such a way that she had to turn around in her seat, away from my daughter. I said, "Mom, why don't you just let S do what she's doing and you focus on enjoying the bunnies!" I directed her attention to another rabbit. She absentmindedly petted it, and started in on me: "I just want S to enjoy the rabbits. I thought she would enjoy the rabbits. Why is she acting this way? What's wrong with her? Why isn't she excited? You should get her a rabbit...etc."
This went round a few more times with me trying to redirect, and my mother going back and forth between me and my daughter. I became increasingly direct with her. "Mom, she isn't enjoying the rabbits because you will not stop telling her what to do. Please stop talking to her. Just focus on your own experience, okay! You love animals!" She just could not stop. Then she shifted her attention to the other kids and said something nice to one that was completely insensitive to the other (I saw the other child's reaction). Then, I felt like I had to get out of there fast. Felt like I was trapped. But I couldn't just leave my mother and daughter there...couldn't leave my daughter to fend for herself (not sure why, as she is 12, but she knows I would be upset if she went stalking out...) Very emotionally confusing moment for me, and I could tell my mother was getting angry and winding up, so I had to diffuse it. It took me another 10 minutes to get them out of the room.
I took them to the sun room. My daughter sat on the other side of the room. My mother kept trying to engage her about the friggin' rabbits and I kept trying to change the subject. Then she got on to sports and asked S about her new athletics sweatshirt with the soccer ball on it. S perked up a little (very proud). Then my mother twisted it again and started telling Sarah that she really should play tennis and why doesn't she play tennis instead of soccer because it is so much better (my mother was a tennis player). And it went on and on from there until S was almost in tears again. S wouldn't look at my mother and talked to the floor. She kept catching my eye and mouthing "Can't we leave now?"
Then my mother asked me how I was feeling (she knew I had been sick twice this week). I told her better but still a bit under the weather. Then she started telling me about what I had done that made me sick. That I should have taken time off after last weekend and then I wouldn't have gotten sick again. I told her I had taken Monday off. She said I had not. (I DID, but still she made me second guess myself!) This is an old story--I am always at fault for being sick...it is always something I have done that brought it onto me. We had the same argument on the phone on Thursday night. I called her on it: "It is NOT MY FAULT that I got sick. Stop saying that!" and when she wouldn't, I said, "I'm hanging up now," and I did. I think what's under this argument is that I have not been able to take her out because I have been sick and busy.
Finally, it seemed like time to go. We hugged each other and said, "I love you," and "Goodbye," and all that, with the understanding we would be getting together on Tuesday for my mother's birthday.
The whole thing, which felt like an ordeal, took less than an hour and left me totally stressed and overwhelmed and feeling this odd sense of unreality. And felt the pain returning...more tense than screaming pain, but back. Managed to suck it all up, and get home. Processed a bit with my daughter about what had happened. There was much to do to get ready for the party and I had 30 minutes before people were coming to set up the presentation for the social action group. I made an unusual decision to lie down and rest for 15 minutes before I dove into cleanup and setup. That was one good thing I did.
The party was fine, and I actually met a very cool person who I felt immediately connected to. He is a UU minister (there were a bunch of them there). We were talking about spiritual paths. He suggested a spirituality group that meets twice per month and sounds like it's exactly what I'm looking for. I am really excited.
By the end of the night. I was in screaming pain. Ugh. More later.