Strange Star

[Hope4Now]

I always thought that my friends should have ignored the mother, and let her get on with it, and bloody-well suffer through the mountain of dishes.

Funny story my husband tells about his family...His Granny cooked a big Sunday dinner every week for husband, husband's sister, and the young grandkids. Every week, she would clean up while everyone sat and visited. As soon as she turned on the dishwasher (the last of the cleanup), her sister-in-law would come out to the kitchen and say, "Can I help clean up?" My husband remembers his granny grumbling about this all the time (of course, HE never offered to help, but that's a different issue). One day, my he says Granny stood out in the kitchen and banged the dishes around for about 30 minutes, then turned on the dishwasher. When her sister-in-law came out to the kitchen and offered to help...LOL! There were mounds of dishes and pots to scrub. While totally passive-aggressive on Granny's part, I love this payback story.

I'm pretty sure, it will end up being about her either way, and I will be the bad one (as ever) for some reason yet to be conveyed to me. I know she'll never, ever change - her psychological need is so great - so all I can do is look after myself.

Yes, it is ALWAYS about them in the end, isn't it. There is just no escaping it. Even if there is no explicit, obvious blame, somehow it gets dumped on us anyway.

And I over-react, I think, when I'm misunderstood (or my actions are) and I get blamed unjustly for things I didn't do or intend. I get far too hurt and terrified, which I am only now relating back to my mother's anger at all traumatic moments of my life (always hidden, it has to be said from everyone else - got to keep up the sweetie pie act...).

I do too. Not externally, but internally. It can be the smallest things, and I feel like a total victim, even if my mind is telling me otherwise. And when I actually AM responsible for someone being annoyed at me because I forgot to do something, or said something insensitive, I wildly overreact in fear and self-blame. That is very hard for me to handle...and I spend a huge amount of energy trying never to do anything wrong.

I know all about the "sweetie pie act" too. Exhausting. Self-denying. Very hard to break out of its extremes. Smile..."yes, I'm fine, how are you?" and "Oh, that's okay that you did (fill in the blank)--no problem."

 

[Pencil]

do too. Not externally, but internally. It can be the smallest things, and I feel like a total victim, even if my mind is telling me otherwise. And when I actually AM responsible for someone being annoyed at me because I forgot to do something, or said something insensitive, I wildly overreact in fear and self-blame. That is very hard for me to handle...and I spend a huge amount of energy trying never to do anything wrong. I know all about the "sweetie pie act" too. Exhausting. Self-denying. Very hard to break out of its extremes. Smile..."yes, I'm fine, how are you?" and "Oh, that's okay that you did (fill in the blank)--no problem."

ME TOO, ME TOO!! (Sorry about the yelling)

 

[Hope4Now]

(Sorry about the yelling)

I don't mind the yelling. It's hard to inject any passion into typed posts without yelling in caps! :)

 

[Echo]

ME TOO, TOO!! I no longer show the hurt because that is ammunition, but I definitely do the apologising too much outside my blood family, and then I wonder why I'm bullied, despite thinking I'm a sufficientlyl assertive, professional woman. Evidently I ain't quite coming across that way, or I undermine it immediately. Wow, this emotional abuse stuff goes so deep and spreads so wide. Not sure I want to be in our new-found club though! Bet neither of you do, either. Shall we form an escape party?!

 

[Hope4Now]

Shall we form an escape party?!

YES! I'll bring the chocolate. Let's SCRAM!

I am an inveterate apologizer. I am becoming very aware of this. Am trying to stop. It's like I have to physically hold myself back from apologizing for everything. I just almost apologized to my husband for this morning--an awful morning that had NOTHING to do with me...just my son being a beast. But I sent my husband up to do battle instead of doing it myself. Then, I almost apologized. But I didn't. I also deflect compliments and praise. I don't know why. I want them; I like them. But when they come, I can't take them. I guess I just don't believe what people have to say. I totally undermine myself.

Wow, this emotional abuse stuff goes so deep and spreads so wide.

The more I start to look at my childhood past (which I had basically completely shut out for the past 25 plus years), and the more my feelings are starting to wake up a little in my present, the more horrified I am by how deep and wide the trauma goes. I'm seeing how I interact with others in a whole new way. And I thought I had it all together. Ha!

It's going to take a lot of practice to change some of these thinking and feeling patterns. A bit like exercise, I guess. Strip away all the extras that got added on, and then find the beautiful and wonderful person inside? Too bad there's not a pill for that. (I mean one that actually would repair the damage). Too bad I've never been very good at daily routines like exercise.

 

[Pencil]

Got so much to say, but will have to come back later as J wants attention

 

[Hope4Now]

I spent my entire therapy appointment today talking about my mother and my need to figure out how to manage my reactions to her. It was one of those really practical appointments. It left me feeling empty--like I was complaining about nothing. Like I wasted yet more of my life trying to figure out how to deal with my mother.

I'm so sick of it. I need a super-power shield. Especially for tomorrow when I take her to do her taxes and then out to dinner for her 85th birthday. I just bought tickets to a musical for her gift. She will like it, but I know she will ask why I didn't also get tickets to something else she's always talking about wanting to go to. Sigh. At least I'm prepared. It doesn't make it any easier.

I talked with my therapist about setting boundaries with my mother (I DO set them, but she violates them all the time). I think my he was surprised when I told him that I talk to her once a day and see her 1-2 times per week. I guess he didn't realize how often I am in contact with her. He did a little reality-checking with me. He said something along the lines of how important it is that people dealing with trauma remove themselves from traumatizing situations so they can heal. I think he knows I still don't quite believe that I have experienced trauma. I think he wanted to jump out of his chair and tell me in no uncertain terms that I should not be interacting with her this frequently. I guess it is a bit much. It's just that I've been doing this for many years...it is expected.

So, part of my therapy "homework" is to figure out how to put something more doable into place. I'm not sure how. I guess I just have to set days that I will talk to her and not answer the phone otherwise. This is hard--she will continually call all my phones. And if I don't answer, she calls my husband. I can't quite believe that this will work. No, I know it won't. Maybe it will. I guess I have to try. Maybe if I practice ignoring her calls and messages, I will become less triggered all the time. I hope so.

 

[Pencil]

Maybe it will. I guess I have to try. Maybe if I practice ignoring her calls and messages, I will become less triggered all the time. I hope so.

Are you nuts? Of course it won't. She's got the heavy artillery - no, laser - and you want to put up cardboard shields. And what's worse, you'll obsess and stress ALL THE TIME. You'll feel guilty, which will make you mentally justify yourself - all the time. And she'll find a quick and effective way through the cardboard, such as becoming ill, or having a crisis of some sort, or .... one of the millions of crafty things she has up her well stocked sleeves. Which will make you feel defeated, and angry, and guilty - and the whole things will escalate.

You need to be far more inventive, creative, playful and effective. Something that will actually give you joy. But don't ask me what or how. :D All I know is that these head-on defenses don't work. Let's have group think.

 

[Hope4Now]

@Pencil your post made me laugh out loud! Thank you! Much much better than my usual self-torment! You gave perfect voice to my fears about this. And I laughed...maybe that's a really important step in creative response to dealing with this situation.

I am going to try to hold onto this feeling (very non-Buddhist...but needed I think) as I try to survive today with her.

 

[Hope4Now]

Okay. I am writing now at 10:30 am. I was great 30 minutes ago. I don't know what happened. I was walking down the stairs into my office and I felt like I was going to faint. I am in the middle of a weird sort of flashback and I am writing here because I don't know what else to do. I don't know why it happened. It was like yesterday when I was driving. That thing where I got panicked and didn't know where I was for a little bit happened. I know this is dissociation but I don't know how to make it stop. I sat with my head between my legs. I am shaking. I kept hearing my old massage therapist saying Keep your eyes open. I can't do that unless I am writing right now so I am writing right now. I was trying to feel my feet on the floor and look at things in my office but I can't stay focused unless I am writing. I'm not feeling like this because I didn't eat. I did have some cereal this morning. It isn't that. And I had the first good night sleep for a long time. I went to a reiki clinic last night and it helped I think.

It seems like everytime I let myself relax just a little. feel good just a little. this happens. I mean it happens in different ways other times. but this is different. Scary in a different way. Maybe like I am vry young younger than 3. AAAGH. I'm friggin' 50. What the hell is wrontg with me. I wish there were somebody here right now that could sit with me. Hah. Nobody but me. I can't talk anyway. I seem to never be able to talk orally about this stuff. Just write. That's part of the problem. If I could infuse my writing into someone else's brain I might be able to actually share my experience. I don't know, maybe this kind of writing is just another form of escaping from myself. I just don't know. Sometimes I give stuff to my therapist but then I feel like he doesn't want it and only reads it because he has to because I'm his client. I don't know why that bothers me. or why i evan thin k that because he does read it. I don't even know why I give it to him. I don't even know why I'm trying to fix all this. I'm not sure I can fix myself. Nix. Negative thinking, I know. this is just all part of it whatever it is.

I am just pathetic, really. It is very hard for me to believe that I suddenly have all these problems after all these years. that I'm not just making up excuses because I'm avoiding being a productive and responsible adult. the physical stuff is as real as it gets. But it isn't connected to anything at all. Just mysterious. Maybe I'm just making all of it up somehow because I'm tired of and bored with my job. Because my life is all filled up with stuff that is just one big to-do list. Because I don't even know what I WANT so I just keep pushing to do what I think I'm supposed to do. Because I don't want to face the shameful fact that I don't love my mother and didn't love my father event thogh i tried so hard I just loved what I thought they could be if I acted hte right way. I am caught in a conundrum, a paradox, a catch-22 of trying to run away from myself because I am utterly disgusted with myself.

There is somehting very wrong deep inside me and I don't know if I can repair it. Somewhere outside myself is my core self that is okay. And a spiritual self that is maybe part of that and is okay. It is the inside of me parts...the physical and the emotional...that are really messed up and I despair that they are irreparable. Everyone says you have to heal yourself. I ahve been trying so hard and I can't. I am so tired of fighting myself. Nobody is perfect. I know that. I even feel that. I gave up trying to be perfect a long time ago. But this is different.

A world-famous potter who I know talks about how angry he gets when people buy new stuff to replace chipped or cracked pots. He says the life of a piece of pottery is in its use, and chips and cracks are what make it real. Like Velveteen Rabbit kind of thing. I'm okay with chips and cracks in myself. but when a bowl or a mug shatters into too many pieces to glue together, there's not much to do except dump the pieces in the garden soil for drainage. I find pieces of canton china in my garden all the time.

I hate this feeling. But the panic is starting to calm down now. The typing helps too. Last time I tried to write in my journal and it looked like a little kids writing except mostly grownup words. It was scary, actually. I kept writing because I was trying to keep myself from going off the deep end. But also because it was interesting. I was observing myself from outside myself. Later it was very strange to see it on the page like that. Like it wasn't me who did it. Like it is evidence that I actually get these flashback things or whatever they are. I don't think they are flashbacks really. Nobody ever sees them because I am too good at running away and hiding. I've told my therapist about some of them. I guess maybe he sees the body stuff. I am aware of but can't seem to fully control how my body moves when I am in sessions with him. This doesn't happen very noticeably anywhere else in my life. I guess I have some control over it. I can usually distract myself from myself. I'm afraid about losing that control. I don't want anyone to see me when this happens because then they will run away and I really will have nobody at all. At least when I can act normal I have people around me who accept that part of me.

Ugh. Okay. I'm feeling more together now. Tsunami has passed and I'm just treading in high seas now...standard operating procedure. Must get some things done for work. Need to run a meeting soon. It's a big joke. I get put in charge of leading all this coordination and planning and I just don't have much motivation to do it because the higher-ups don't really care and are likely to pull the rug out from under this program we've built at any moment. I'm not sure my boss is willing to fight for it either. I'm not sure I am either. But that will be a rant for another diary entry.

 

[Echo]

Can't write at any length, but my therapist explained to me that when one is dealing with baby stuff, the internal cues in our body are enough to trigger us. So, if, say, you get a brief pang of hunger that could well take you back into your babyhood to a moment when you were hungry and frightened and did not know when your next meal was coming, or that meal was associated with anger or some other negative emotion from your caregiver.

She wants me to forget trying to interpret or associate any of my triggers or bodily weirdness with past events; to stop trying to create narrative. Instead, she says we need to concentrate on the 'curve of experience' as she calls it. This an upwards curving arc that rises from a ground and curves back down to that same ground when whatever stimulus is resolved. She says when we are traumatised, the ground itself is full of trauma and we need to reset that. Those of us with baby trauma have a ground composed pretty much entirely of trauma and we need to recalibrate that before we can deal with the experiential trauma sensations that come and go daily/hourly, etc. So it is all about forgetting the explanation and even the sensations, really, not worry too much about them, and instead, self-soothing, blah, blah, blah....

Thought it might help in some way to share this.

 

[Hope4Now]

We were posting to each other on separate topics and separate threads at the same time :) I am supposed to be writing and preparing for this stupid meeting. I haven't done anything except be on this forum for the past two hours. So now I can beat myself up about that too! No, actually, it was exactly what I needed to do.

self-soothing, blah, blah, blah....

Yes. This is partly why I don't call my therapist when this stuff happens. Why it feels so lonely and awful. Okay...here comes a baby scream: I WANT SOMEBODY ELSE TO SOOTHE ME! I'm waiting for my savior to materialize :) I know it won't happen, but I keep on believing it will. Wishing it would. Like I still believe in the spirit of Santa Claus, and that trees have souls, and that some mysterious force in the universe that is bigger and stronger than I am exists. Maybe I really never did grow up. I do a lot of magical thinking. I'm not sure I'm willing to give that up as it is the ONLY thing that soothes me at all, and, hey, you have to believe in something! UGH.

I'm trying not to narratize (is this a word I just made up?) but I cannot help myself. It isn't really narrative...I can't even approach that...just bits of explanation I need...something to ground me in reality. What you/your therapist says is right though. Thank you for responding. It did help to hear from you; I appreciate it. Everyone seems to say this...just let it happen...be with it...give it time...it's part of the process...do mindfulness...stay grounded...blah blah blah. I even say it to myself. All the time now.

I'm glad I'm seeing my therapist again tomorrow. I wonder if I will be able to bring any of this up.