Manning up

I started to write this post about how I’d stepped up (or “manned up”) this week in coming clean with my therapist. And then I realised that I’d actually “manned up” in a few situations, so thought I’d give myself a big bloggy pat on the back.

1. I finally came clean with my therapist. Funny, I had avoided this in the session after my post, and by the time the next session (or the one after) rolled around, I felt much more able to tackle it. So much so that I barely squirmed or cried or anything – just had a “normal” (at least “semi-normal”) discussion with her about it. I’ve waxed lyrical on the benefits of talking to one’s therapist so many times in the blogosphere. Seems that sometimes there’s benefit in waiting, and not blurting.
2. I reported a guy at work for giving me a work nerd stick that contained p0rn0graphic material. It was gross and freaked me out … It came on the back of the bad trigger at work, so possibly I was more sensitive than I ordinarily would have been, but seriously people, pornography at work? Just. Not. Appropriate… EVER.
3. I’ve been feeling lazy and lardy and awful lately. For months actually. And then my BFF online pointed out that I used to go to the gym regularly, and it seemed to help with all the body tension. She’s right. What she said triggered a massive “a-ha!” moment in my brain, so I went to check out a new gym after work yesterday. Spur of the moment appointment to check out the gym, and a spur of the moment decision to sign up. I felt really motivated while I was there, so I went again this morning. It really brought my focus back to my body, and made me aware of all the places I’m carrying a ridiculous amount of tension. Of course it also made me aware of how much condition I’ve lost, but I’m hoping this will ease as I get back into a fitness regime, and (hopefully) gain some of my fitness back. Thanks BFF!

I also bombed my therapist today (as in ‘last minute bomb’ or LMB – kinda love it when we get to throw them occasionally) – “Why do you always ask the hard questions at the very end?” she asked. Ha ha! I asked her about my intense fear of abandonment and can she talk to me more in “intellectual terms” about it. I’m desperate to understand it, though I do fear it’s a bit like therapy in this regard – that if I stop intellectualising and just go with it, I’ll start to get better. Of course, I’m not sure what the “it” is in this situation. I guess that will be top of the agenda for next week…

Once living in fear

It seems like ages since I was able to blog regularly. I feel bad about that, though I know I shouldn’t. Like has gone into crazy mode, and mostly I’m going day to day dealing with things. On one hand it feels like I’m completely unstable; on the other, I know I’m not, and I’m actually coping well with what are incredibly difficult life events, if almost crippled with exhaustion. I know I’m also continuing to heal, as I was reminded last night.

Just as I crawled into bed, shortly after midnight, I heard my door bell ring. Of course, being so late, I panicked. Heart thumping, palm sweating, brain frying panic. I lay in bed, totally frozen. I was scared almost to death about who was at the door, and the bad things they had come to do. I watched the clock tick over* and waited, everything on high alert, convinced someone would break in. I literally couldn’t move.

At some stage I must have fallen asleep, because when I woke up this morning, well, I actually woke and no evil had taken me in the night. Of course, the first thing I did was check the front door – no one there, no one sleeping on my porch, nothing. Strange.

And then I remembered how many nights I’ve felt that panic before. How often, over the years, I slept with knives under my pillow, or scissors under the blankets. How often I sat under the window or by the front door, waiting for the bad men to come.

They never did.

And so, while I panicked (who wouldn’t panic that when their doorbell rings so late?), I also remembered that I’ve come a long way. It’s been a loooong time since I slept with knives or stayed awake all night to make sure nothing bad happened.

And that, my friends, as they say, is progress.

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* It’s a digital clock. It doesn’t tick. But what do we say now about digital clocks? Do they flip? Swoosh? What is it we say now that analogue barely exists? What will little kids say in years to come?  

Taking care

We got news yesterday that my mother’s cancer is more advanced than originally thought. It’s not good news, and it’s thrown both Mum and I a little bit. Actually it’s been a week of bad news on one front or another. I’m blaming some weird planetary activity.

On top of the cancer and the myriad appointments I’ve attended with Mum, I’ve had my own health issues to deal with, as well as work, and putting my father in a nursing home, and a job interview (that’s another story) and and and …

Understandably, this has all taken its toll and I’ve been feeling overwhelmed.

I finally made the decision today that something has to give. I chose work. I’m taking a few days off to deal with things. I’m also withdrawing from the job I interviewed for. I’m just not in the space to take on anything new. It’s also likely I’ll need a bit of time off for Mum, and I don’t want to muck them around.

It feels a bit weird this taking control and taking care, but I know it’s a good thing. I hope you’re all sitting down because I’m also planning to get back into my exercise routine, and get healthy foods going for Mum while she stays with me and endures her treatment. Crazy stuff, I know, but that’s what’s happening.

I also had a nap this afternoon, something I do sometimes. I was at a friend’s place and looked at her bed, and realised I just wanted to crawl into it and fall asleep. So I did (in my own bed). Almost unbelievably I slept for three hours. They say stress does funny things, and sleep is a way for the mind and body to regenerate. I’ll be heading back to bed again very soon.

Needless to say the Wonder Therapist was impressed at my care taking. It’s quite nice, really. I think I might even like it.

Reflections on 2010

I like New Year about as much as I like Christmas. I’m glad the hoopla is finally over and I can shift into something resembling normal for the year. A couple of my bloggy friends have done a “year in review”, so thought I’d give this a whirl. 2010 was a big year for me and another bloggy friend reminded me that as survivors, we tend not to acknowledge our achievements nearly often enough. So here I am.

Some of my biggest (tangible) achievements:

• Changing jobs – twice. Getting the hell away from that awful boss I had, and then getting a brand new job in a brand new sector.
• Giving the whole relationships and dating thing a whirl. This wasn’t the big success I had hoped it would be, but it was an achievement for me to saddle up again. I learned a lot about myself in the process. Perhaps my biggest achievement was standing up for myself in The Great Leap Forward.
• Taking holidays – several of them – and believing I deserved them
• Doing group therapy, which saw my healing move forward in leaps and bounds. I met some amazing people, learned a lot about myself and realised (even finally believed) that I’m not alone driving the survivor highway. I also even believed that I’m one of those “amazing” people – I’ll never forget the day the Wonder Therapist looked at me and said, “now do you see what I see?” (umm, not really, but kind of LOL)
• Health – this has been a really mixed bag for me, as I’ve had two rounds of surgery to endure and various other health issues. I’m listing it as an achievement, though, because I’m learning (slowly) to address health issues. I even went to the dentist for no apparent reason, other than a general check up!

I’ve also made many smaller, less tangible steps forward – wearing skirts, for example, as well as heels again. I’ve used public transport – for years a surefire way to a panic attack. And I’ve been out, at night, and discovered I’m not nearly as afraid of the dark as I once was. I’m also not as scared of being stuck in a lift, and have sat in the middle of rows at the theatre without panicking. I’m also starting to learn how to listen to my body – when it’s hungry, when it’s tired, or in pain. I’m still not great at this one, but I’m learning.

Of course, the year has had its ups and downs, with continued triggers that spin me out of control sometimes. The Wonder Therapist says “that’s what life is like” – it’s completely normal to have ups and downs. I did notice that sometimes the downs have come from me taking on too much leaving me vulnerable, mentally and physically. I’m guessing there’s a lesson in self-care in there – perhaps that’s a job for 2011?

I’ve also continued to have struggles with my family – especially my mother, though at times I’ve been able to see the family dysfunctions from a distance and maintain (or at least try to) my own “self”. I’m  learning to accept my father’s bad behaviour: not accepting the unacceptable, but accepting that it’s *his* behaviour, and nothing to do with me. Nothing I do can change it, or make it better. He is the abusive a$$hat that he is, and that is no reflection on me at all. That’s progress for me, too.

One area that doesn’t feel so much like an achievement is that I still feel quite distant from “me” – from the person my therapist described here. That person still doesn’t feel like me, even though I *know* it is, and even though I wrote – and believed – posts like this one.

One thing that’s really helped me is the Expressive Arts Carnival (you can see all my entries here). I’ve loved the activities and the encouragement to do things creative. They’ve helped me think about things differently, and get in touch with different parts of me.

I’ve also learned to more consciously drawn on my lessons in therapy, and the blogosphere – as you all saw in my Christmas survival post, just this week.

My favourite posts for 2010 – and by chance also the most popular – were these:

• 10 good things about falling apart
• How do you define success?
• A shift
• Eight inspiring people

Thanks for being with me in 2010 peeps, and I look forward to sharing 2011 with you!

Updates, bravery and naughtiness

I’m home. My trip was amazing, but I’m glad to be home. I’ll admit that I didn’t want to come home; didn’t want to come back to my life, but now that I’m here, I’m glad. It’s nice to be around trees and gardens again and nice to have rain, having spent time in rainless countries. It’s especially nice to be able to eat and drink without thinking too much about hygiene or nasty diseases.

The other reason I’m glad to be home is that I’m not around my mother any more. I’ve spent three weeks with her and it’s just about done me in. Enough to bring back the darkness and thoughts of doing myself in. (To all you Captain Obviouses out there, yes that was probably predictable and thanks, I’ll know that in future.)

A contributing factor to the darkness is that I reduced my meds a few weeks ago, just before I went away. Yea, I know, not smart. I know that now. I was feeling good and taking two pills a day was annoying me so I thought I’d reduce the dose. Silly me. Actually “naughty” me, as the Wonder Therapist said, with a smirk on her face – “you naughty, naughty girl.” (She’s a member of the Captain Obvious club, too.)

I could spend this post on tales of woe about my mother’s behaviour, or how ordinary I feel, but I won’t. I’m feeling down enough as it is. Instead I thought I’d share a few marks of progress I experienced while away. I even surprised myself!

• Almost no pre-flight anxiety on the day of my departure, not even at the airport or on the plane. Once on board, a couple of drinks and some magic pills and I slept nearly the whole way
• I rode a camel AND on the spur of the moment, without “preparation” (whatever that might have entailed)
• I rode a donkey, also on the spur of the moment, and even if I was scared to death the whole time it was prancing up the side of a cliff knocking pedestrians out of its way, I still did it
• I talked to strangers (tourists and locals) interestedly and comfortably, without being embarrassed
• I went out looking for supermarkets in strange towns – WITHOUT A MAP! and without consulting the hotel concierge about where to go or what I might find
• I took taxis in countries where I don’t speak (or read) the language, without having a panic attack about where I might end up or what might happen
• I realised that my body is just my body, it’s not disgusting as I once thought, it’s just as “normal” as everyone else’s. Ok, I still don’t like it, but I don’t feel as disgusting about it as I once did
• I ate foreign food, without getting paranoid about what it might do to me
• I generally got through the days rolling with whatever happened, not worrying about what might happen next or getting paranoid that something bad would happen.
• And even when I was anxious, I was generally able to talk myself through it, without descending into a total panic-merchant

Even though my fortitude didn’t last the whole trip, I did well with these things. So a double smiley face to me

The Great Leap Forward

I am a political junkie. Or at least I used to be. But that’s not what this is about.

Not-so-Nice Guy came back on the scene a few weeks ago. He contacted me to say he was sorry for being such a “b*st*rd” (to use his word). Yes, he was.

Don’t get excited: he still is (and I can think of a few other expletives to add to his list, too).

This time around NSNG didn’t wait too long before pressuring me to do some Things I was entirely uncomfortable with. We discussed these Things. At length. Repeatedly. Ad nauseum. He wouldn’t take no for an answer. (The Things he wanted were s*xual, sordid and deviantly s*xual, but I’m not going into the details because I don’t want to trigger anyone – let alone me.)

I even said to him that it was the Things, or me. I didn’t say that to blackmail him, but because I realised this was a deal breaker for me. All I got from him in recent times was trigger after trigger after trigger. Looking back, I should have seen the signs earlier.

He knew a little of my past in this area, but still wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Then he accused me of trying to “control” him because I wouldn’t do the Things (and because I wanted him to make a time to catch up this week, before I go away for three weeks).

Finally I said to him:

“Well, if standing up for myself makes me ‘controlling’, then GO ME, I say!”

It’s only taken me a few decades, but I finally managed to stand up for myself. Can I just say that it feels GREAT! Better than great… just, well, GREAT! I’m soooo proud of myself, and the Wonder Therapist is delighted, too.

I’m still upset about tossing him to the kerb, mostly because it’s bringing up all sorts of old messages about me being useless, a failure, blah blah blah. But rationally I know this is for the best. I know (and almost believe) that I deserve better.

I deserve someone who thinks I’m amazing… like this schmaltzy clip … I have no idea where to find it, but I’m starting to believe that I deserve it.

So that, my friends, is The Great Leap Forward of 2010.

When CBT works

You hear a lot of talk around the blogosphere about CBT and how bad it is. The Wonder Therapist is of the CBT persuasion, but I’ve never experienced any of the negative things that people talk about. There’s never been a 12-step program, or worksheets to complete, or anything like that. She’s probably more eclectic than she lets on, because I actually experience a blend of a whole lot of things in my sessions with her… though she’s definitely a rational being underneath it all.

I had my job interview today and it struck me as I parked my car that this is one of those times when CBT actually works.

I was, of course, anxious before hand, but only normally so. Besides, the half bottle of magic elixir I’d sprayed into my mouth and the “lick” of v@lium* I’d had before hand probably helped keep my anxiety to manageable levels (even if the v@lium was over 18 months out of date).

I also managed to talk myself through some of the anxiety. Like when I started panicking that I would be late, I was able to say “When have you ever been late for a job interview? Never. Ok. This will be ok too.” And it was.

I also found myself saying things like, “You’ve done this before. You can do it again. Just relax. You’ve prepared. You know your stuff.”

And, “Come on, they just want to get to know you. It isn’t a trick. Just do your thing.”

So I did. I even used the yoga-breathing technique to relax beforehand.

It was ok. I relaxed into the interview and I was able to answer all their questions, and ask some of my own. The only thing I mucked up on was learning about the organisation, so when they asked me what I know, my first thought was “Hmmm, f*** all.” Obviously I didn’t say that, I just stumbled my way through. How on earth I forgot to bone up on that is beyond all fathoming. The most basic interview question and I missed it! Oh well, too late to worry about that now. Hopefully I didn’t make too much of an a$$ of myself. Besides, it was an early question, so hopefully I recovered some ground afterwards.

I’m completely exhausted, but I’m managing to be nice to myself tonight – snuggling on the couch with my blanket and a DVD.

Even if I don’t get the job (and I hope I do) this seems like another step forward.

**

* The Wonder Therapist calls my use of 1.25mg of v@lium a “lick”… barely enough to be of any therapeutic use, but it does work, even if just placeboically, if that’s a word. LOL.

Not-so-Nice – Part 3

I’m feeling better about the situation with Not-so-Nice Guy. Not better, exactly, because I still wish he wasn’t Not-so-Nice, but I don’t feel so wretched anymore. In part because of things the Wonder Therapist said; in part because of things you have all said; and probably in large part because my attention is diverted elsewhere for the moment, but more on that later.

I talked, and sobbed, with the Wonder Therapist. She said a couple of things that have really stuck with me. Not that I quite believe them yet, but at least they’re in my head:

• Why end my life over a guy I’ve really only known for a short time?
• Why does Not-so-Nice Guy’s “rejection” of me (which is how I see it) mean that I’m stupid, useless, worthless?

Of course, I couldn’t rationally answer either of these questions. She also said that what I’m feeling is completely normal. It’s the natural grief over a broken heart/broken relationship. It will pass. Rationally I knew this, but it certainly hasn’t felt like it.

I also talked to a friend. One of the women from The Group, who has also had some relationship issues lately. She suggested I think about what I can learn from this. Sounds clichéd, I know, but I think some of her questions are helping me process this.

• What would you differently next time? What would you do the same?

My instinctive reaction to this is that I wouldn’t open myself up so much next time. It only leads to hurt. But this is a double-edged sword, because if you don’t open yourself up, you potentially miss out on great things. I guess I need to learn how much to open that door – enough to enjoy the good, but not enough that I get sucked in to believing there’s hope and that I’m onto a good thing, when I might not be.

• What did you like about yourself in the situation? What didn’t you like that you can work on?

How’s this for confoozed? What I liked is that I was able to open myself up… aarrgghh!! Not completely, but I was able to walk some scary lines, share a little of myself without being rejected (initially at least) and be open to receiving something positive in return.

And now just to really mess with your heads, what I didn’t like is that I opened myself up; I let myself believe that this was a good thing (and it really was) … that only ended in tears.

• What didn’t you like about him? What are you looking for in a person that you can look out for next time?

This is really tough for me. It’s hard to name things I didn’t like, because there was so much that I did like.

What I’m looking for in a person, and what I largely got with Nice Guy, is someone who’s intelligent, funny, shares some of the same interests – particularly an interest in politics and current affairs (even if our views were almost polar opposites). I’ll never forget the night he said to me:

Nice Guy: “You might think this is really weird. Don’t think I’m nuts or anything, but on election night, I like to sit at home and watch the count.” Looking embarrassed.

Me: “Oh my god – me too!!!”

And then we talked about all the things we like about doing that, how it’s the highlight of our political cycle, and how it annoys us that other people think we’re nuts because, even if watching the count is a bit like watching grass grow, when you’re a political junkie, it’s awesome!!

I also want someone who’s sensitive, kind and compassionate. Nice Guy fit that bill, too. It shone through in spades in the way he talked about other people, especially those important to him – like his family, and even his ex-wife. He also showed an interest in me. He sensed that something “not quite right” had happened to me in the past, and he was patient, and caring and understanding about that. I never did disclose anything to him, but he was nothing but kind in wanting to understand and being patient with me.

I also want someone who understands the meaning of the word “no” when things get, ahem, hot and heavy. Simple, right? Apparently not with some men, though Nice Guy oozed respect in this regard.

I want someone who has a job and a life. It doesn’t matter what that is (within reason), but I don’t want someone who is struggling to set themselves up. This might sound horribly judgemental, but I figure at my age, being “set up” comes with the territory. If you’re not set up, either something terrible has happened or you just can’t get your sh*t together.

If I’m completely honest, I could have lived without a little of the passion he had about things that don’t interest me – like cars and military history. But I still loved that he was passionate about those things, even if the subjects themselves bored me to tears.

I’m sure I could keep writing, but that will do for now. It’s something for me to think about anyway.

The other reason I think I’m doing better is that my brain is fairly full thinking about my health issues. I saw the specialist again today and I’m having surgery on Friday. Not the greatest news, but at least they can do it sooner rather than later. I’m hopeful that this will be the end of these troubles, but there’s no guarantee.

I’m also kind of proud of myself because I talked to the specialist about my gynaecological health, and fertility prospects. I was incredibly (and I mean INCREDIBLY) scared about asking those questions. Even though I really want a family, I’m not sure I want to hear some of the possible answers. He was fine about it – he always is. He’s a gentle, caring soul. We’re going to look into all that once the surgery is done with.

I expressed concern to the Wonder Therapist about the prospect of having another general anaesthetic. Here’s what she said:

The Wonder Therapist: “Sorry, a minute ago you were telling me you’re going to top yourself over a guy you hardly know, and now you’re worried about the health impacts of another general? That seriously doesn’t make sense.”

Me: laughing “I know. I never said it was rational!”  

Both of us laughing.

A shift

So, the Group was ok last night. I credit David with helping me to see the obvious – that I didn’t need to go to places that were too painful, or disclose anything I wasn’t comfortable disclosing. I was conscious of this, and it was ok. Not exactly what I’d call “fun”, but much less distressing than I had anticipated. Phew!

Something weird happened afterwards, though. I feel like there was a quantum shift in my thinking.

Perhaps it was the Pregnant One (who I think really seems to have her sh** together; have this healing jag pretty much nailed) saying things that I often think – like wishing she had the courage to ring her friends and say, “hey, let’s go out for dinner.”

Or perhaps it was the one I call the Unstable One (which isn’t very flattering, or very accurate), but perhaps it was her saying how “unstable” she is and how her life is completely in the toilet, when it very clearly isn’t.

Perhaps it was the little book of affirmations that the Angry One brought in to show us.

Or perhaps it was all of these things stirred together in a big pot.

I came away from the Group thinking that I might finally believe – and I mean REALLY believe:

• I am a good person
• I have achieved a lot in my life, against the odds
• I am loveable
• I can look after myself, physically and emotionally (well, with a little help on the latter)
• I accept who I am (though there will always be room for growth)
• I am safe

I’m sure the Wonder Therapist would be pleased to hear this – it’s only taken me 18-odd months of therapy to realise it!

Update on blah

Hi everyone

Thanks so much for your messages of love and support in response to my last post. You really are too kind. It’s kind of amazing, really, to hear that my blog ramblings are useful to some of you, some of the time. Thank you.

I’m not sure whether I feel better, or not. I guess I do. I mean, I still feel that things are pointless, but I’m not as actively thrashing around at the bottom of the pit, so I guess that’s a good thing, right?

Yes, time with my FOO wasn’t very helpful, that’s true. But there’s a number of things contributing to this – not least of which is feeling like I can’t yet will never be able to do the things I want to do.

I’m not sure I can reply to each and every one of you – mainly because you’re all too nice. But I did want to throw a couple of shout outs:

@ Castorgirl – smarty pants! Luv it when your friends use your own words against you….

@ Life Multiplied – yea, there’s a few of us who have to keep going, so I’m here with you, too. 

@ Paul – I had forgotten all about my “10 Good Things” – bad, bad me. Thanks for the reminder.

In other news I got a good reminder from the Wonder Therapist today. I’ve been doing a great job of flagellating myself for not being “cured” yet (influenced partly by my lovely mother who thinks we should all be able to “just get over it” – well, that “strong minded people just get over it”. Sigh.)

Anyway, the Wonder Therapist reminded me (again) that I may not be “cured”. Not yet. That IT TAKES AS LONG AS IT TAKES.

I gotta try hard(er) to remember this.

Take care out there, my friends.