Category Archives: history

Loose Ends

One of the sources of my anxiety is the lack of completion in my life.  Everything is half-started or half-finished or however you want to look at it.  The yard, the house, my hobbies, obligations, wishes, desires.  It’s everywhere I look and everywhere I go.

It’s overwhelming.

I made a decision that I would start finishing things.  It didn’t matter what it was or how small a project.  The idea was that finishing things would be satisfying.  Satisfaction would ease my anxiety.  And so I began my quest.

There was a bag of baby yarn that had been bothering me for a couple years.  There was a couple of untouched skeins in there and many scraps and partial skeins wound into balls.  Uneven amounts of each colors.  Some with sparkle and some were plain.  But I looked in the bag and determined there was enough yarn to make one baby blanket.  If I made the blanket now, then when someone has a baby, I already have a gift.  If no baby is born in my circle for a couple of decades, then I have a gift for my first great-grandchild.  I finished the blanket a couple weeks ago and it did feel so very satisfying.

Next project was going to be a cross stitch throw.  I pulled out the bag it was in expecting to organize myself for a few minutes and begin.  Ha!  Inside that project were six more tucked away.  Damn!  For some reason, I put away the throw and selected a bell pull instead.  It was farther along, so perhaps that is why I picked it for completion.

That project is fairly aggravating but I’m working on it every day anyway and interspersing it with tinier projects so I don’t lose hope.

One of those tinier projects is a pillow I set aside about twenty years ago.  Yep, it has been sitting in a drawer for twenty years.  I pulled it out with fresh eyes and thought to myself, are you kidding???  It was almost finished!  Why in the world did you put it away???  It took me all of 15 minutes to sew the edges, stuff it, and close up the opening.  Yes, this is what I’m dealing with.

It turns out I was right about this being a way to heal my anxiety.  I feel satisfied and accomplished.  I feel encouraged and motivated.  My mind is feeling a bit like its old self.  There are times during each day that I actually look forward to some aspect of my life.

If I weren’t as healed as I am, this would probably not be possible yet, this tying-up of loose ends.  Basic self-care is crucial when it comes to mental illness.  A certain amount of healing is necessary to be able to move forward even a little bit.  Permitting myself to live this way is an important component.  Not judging myself is very important as well.

So there was ground-work that had to be laid in order for me to take this next step.  And this step, this finishing of things, is also part of the healing package.  It brings me back to myself, who I used to be and what I used to do.

I lost myself over the years.  I became completely externally focused.  I didn’t know how to do my life any other way and I did that until I had nothing left to give.

How glad I am that I am no longer living like that.  I will never again live my life that way.  Before, disappointing others was the worst thing I could do.  Now, disappointing myself would be the worst thing I could do.

Today’s project to finish was a very tiny one indeed.  We have a cupboard with a very stiff door on it.  The knob was hard to grip so opening the door was a pain all these years we have lived in this house.  I went to the hardware store, bought a new ceramic knob with a good edge on it, came home, and installed it in one minute.  Voila!  The cupboard door is no longer hard to open.  Since it’s where I keep some of my half-finished projects, I can be proud of myself and satisfied every time I open that door from now on.

I think I came up with a good plan for myself.

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Filed under anxiety, art therapy, boundaries, decision making, depression, dysfunction, emotional health, growth, healing, history, journey, motivation, planning, pressure, progress, self-care, self-respect, Uncategorized

Triggers

I have come a long way in the past three years, just about, since I walked off the Terrible Job.  At that time I was a shadow of myself.  Clinical depression, anxiety, incredible work-related stress from a toxic job environment, PTSD, unresolved grief issues…. all that and more! left me in a very fragile condition.  The moment I walked out that door was the first moment of real self-care that I had ever attempted in my life.  And that is what I have been doing ever since.

Lately, I have been able to exercise a certain amount of detachment when it comes to what is going on with symptoms of my mental and emotional illnesses.

For example, this past week I learned that other people had been invited to events that I might have expected we would also be invited to.  However, we were not invited.  Both times it bothered me but for different reasons.  And one of the “slights” hurt a whole lot more than the other one, even though that one was not actually personal in nature and was completely understandable.

That’s how triggers work.  Crap from the past that was stuffed way, way down gets unexpectedly dredged up, and the emotions are just as painful now, even out of context, as they might have been back in the day.  If only there had been a safe way to express them at the time of the original hurt.  But there wasn’t a safe way or even a known way to express the emotions.  So someone like me will place them into something like suspended animation forever and just carry them around for years and years without realizing that those emotions are just biding their time.  In an unguarded moment, they come back to life and once again you have to decide what to do with them.

Decisions about emotions sounds strange.  But that is what I did subconsciously in the past and that is what I must now do deliberately in the present.  In the past I had to stuff things down because I was overwhelmed and because I was mainly on my own to figure out these things in the trenches.  It was a way to go.  I don’t have to stuff things down now.  I have space to work in and I even have some skills.  These skills are very new but they are there.

This detachment that I am able to feel these days is a very useful skill for now.  It allowed me to sit with some very, very uncomfortable feelings for a couple of days.  Then I felt able to look at the situation and see other possible scenarios to explain why we were left out.  I acknowledged that maybe we were actually left out because nothing had actually been planned ahead of time.  Other personalities were thrown into the mix and nothing could be done about it at the last minute.

Once I got that far, I was able to talk about what happened.  That was not very satisfying but it was another chance to organize my ideas about being left out.

A day or two after that, I wrote out what happened and how it made me feel.  That was hard because I still want to judge myself.  There is still that voice which wants to tell me, you are not worthy of being included therefore you are foolish to be hurt when you’re not included.  Not a good or accurate message at all but that voice is so persistant!!!

After I wrote it all out, I felt quite a bit better the next day.  A couple days later we got an unexpected invitation from the same source and there it was:  the physical, visible, undeniable proof that my voice is a liar.  We are worthy, we are loved, we mean something, we matter.

What an awful lot of hard work it is to heal and grow in spite of the burden of mental and emotional illness.  This is why it is a priority for me.  It is very hard work and I do not have the stamina to do this while also working and being out there in the world at the level I used to be able to be.

As frustrating as it is to be working on the triggers, I am seeing progress.  I used to just get lost in my stronger emotions.  Now  I am seeing a fairly clear way through them, which gives me reason to hope.

 

 

 

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Truth!

On Super Bowl Sunday I learned the truth about something that happened twenty-three years ago.

Back then a decision was made without my knowledge or input and which affected my life in, what I have supposed to be, a negative way.  Of course, I’ll never know for sure that there might have been an easier and more satisfying path than the one I am on.  But I think it was a good possibility.

As stories were being told around the dinner table before the football game started, there was one story I had never heard before.  I thought I had heard all the stories, the funny ones, the embarrassing ones, the somewhat scary ones.  But this one was new to me.

As soon as the story was told, I knew in my heart that I was hearing the reason for why that decision was made twenty-three years ago.  It made more sense than anything else I had been told prior to this moment.

Actually, it makes “that decision” seem quite sensible on some level.

If I had been told at the time it happened, I like to think I would have been understanding.  I usually am supportive when people tell me their troubles.

I still would have disagreed about the decision that was made as a result.  But it seems to me from this vantage point that perhaps a compromise could have been reached.  Maybe it didn’t have to be a jump off the cliff kind of decision.  Maybe clearer minds might have prevailed.

Of course we always did fly by the seat of our pants, due to lacking any kind of problem-solving skills and emotional maturity.

I’ve always been a big fan of truth.  But I don’t always have the truth to work with, which really burns my butt sometimes.

Now that this thing was told, and now that I know what this thing was and the whole world failed to explode, I have to wonder if we have gotten onto a new path.  It seems like maybe we have.  This feels new on a very deep level.

I have not actually tried to talk about it since the telling of the story.  People tell me things when they want to tell me, not when I want to hear it.  I was raised by poor communicators and I have collected poor communicators for much of my adult life, which makes sense.  I plan to just wait and see.

It would be nice if it turns out that the truth really does set you free.

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Enough Time Goes By

Last night my belly dance troupe held its annual Christmas Hafla (belly dance gathering).  We’ve had about five of them.  This year was our third one held a local bar that one of our dancers works at.

I was so keyed-up beforehand that I felt nauseous.  As many times as I have performed in public, that sickish feeling seems to be necessary on some level.  Maybe it is a gathering of all my energies.  It passes once the food is set up and the pool table moved out of the way and the music starts and we are dancing.

There was something different about how I felt, though, compared to previous years.  I felt more centered in my body.  There was less of a “people pleasing” element to me just being there.  More of a detachment.

I think it was a healthy detachment.  More of a “this is where I leave off and that is where you begin” kind of detachment.

Usually I do a lot of nervous laughing in between songs and sometimes even during a dance.  That didn’t happen last night.  Yet, I can say I did have fun.  Less laughing and more being actually present in the moment.

My choreography partner and I performed the dance we choreographed ourselves this year and we received a lot of positive feedback.  I felt really strong while dancing it.

We finished our second choreography this week.  It goes with a Christmas song and we had hoped to have it ready for the Hafla.  But there just wasn’t enough time.  We will polish it to perfection and unveil it next Christmas.  No pressure!!!

So anyway, this is one more example of the kind of progress I have made this year in comparison to where I was last Christmas season.  It is reassuring to have something to measure in a journey that is all about going with the flow.  These things take a lot of time and I am fortunate to be able to spend my time in this way.

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My Calendar is Mostly White!

During the last week of February I kept flipping the calendar to March so I could see all the blank dates on it. It was very soothing.

I am still not healed from the ugly and demanding fullness of my days as a worker at the terrible job. The relief of punching out at the end of each day lasted only moments before dread of the coming day took its place.

Every day I had to wake up at a different time. Every day I went home at a different time. None of those times was promised. My schedule could be changed at any moment including the last moment. I couldn’t really count on anything other than being disregarded.

Now the items on the calendar are voluntary for the most part. But even items of my choosing still give me stress. I want absolutely NO OBLIGATIONS WHATSOEVER! That’s really what I want.

For the past several days I have been working out a genealogy project. My mostly blank calendar has allowed me to start a look-up and follow it until I have either found the answer or have found that there is no answer available on this particular website I’m using. I can stop when I’m done rather than when someone or something else whomps on me. What a luxury.

This genealogy is not actually my family. It’s my husband’s family. We are not going to share the information widely because my husband’s family isn’t into things of the past. Especially the tragic parts. One time I had to take down a photo of my father-in-law because he looked too ill and that was considered disturbing. The thing about that photo, though, was it showed my father-in-law with a beard–the first beard he had ever been able to grow in his life. To me, it was a picture of the great story he told about his first beard and not a picture of him dying. But that’s just me.

This family has a very tragic event that occurred in 1965, and we did already know about it, but other than the fact that it exists, this tragedy is not talked about.

How can you heal if you can’t talk about these things? And who am I to decide it should be talked about? Actually, I am nobody when it comes to that. However, I did marry into this family and that probably says something about me and my issues.

It is certainly no accident that I am doing this particular research. It speaks to things that I don’t understand in general. Scrolling through the indexes, there is listing upon listing of community involvement, school performances, family-owned businesses, weddings and other happy days. And then suddenly, “Double Killing in Village”.

I keep thinking, there had to be seeds of this somewhere in the past. This did not happen in a vacuum. I try to read between the lines of the man who said, “I have four children…. they are swell youngsters….” The only thing I have heard those “youngsters” say about him is, “He was a bastard.”

It takes a lot of something out of a person to think about these things. Usually there is just no time for it, not for the people who have really full calendars.

I promised myself a long time ago, that if I ever came to a point in my life that I had the opportunity to figure things out, I would go with it, let myself have that time and not worry too much about accomplishments and have-to. That time did come along and I am just going to go with it until things change back again as I am sure they will.

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