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Wildflower:

--- Quote ---Hi Wildflower, and then I remembered you did an interior design course. Clean surfaces, and I bet - no fridge magnets. Blaah.  
--- End quote ---


I have to admit, my fridge is pretty low on magnets, and that’s partly by design.  I actually used to have a few until my cat managed to hide all of them in various places where I’ll probably never see them again.  :D  He also used to go through all of my kitchen sponges, too.  I’d come home and they’d be in shreds on the floor, so now I buy special cat-proof sponges.  I’ve seen this guy eat enough cat toys to know he’s gotta have a tummy tough enough to manage a shred of sponge now and then, , but I worry about him getting sick on whatever chemicals are in the sponges.  Talk about cat/child-proofing a house though.   :D  Which is why I got such a kick out of imagining a cat going after the rungs of Maslow’s ladder.  :lol:  And regarding being the first one out the door with the most magnets, I was the same with my first car and bumper stickers.  And it was a very large old car.  Lots of room for stickers. :D


--- Quote ---The helpful, recommending, jointly exploring, encouraging ones
versus
the talking at me, telling me what to do, assuming, imposing, lecturing ones who set too high goals and tasks for me at my level.
--- End quote ---


It took another, closer reading to hear that you may be trying to tell me something here about the way I approached my first posting.  If you are, I know I have a tendency to get on a podium sometimes.  I try not to, but I may have slipped again here.  I’m sorry if I gave anyone a frozen brain.  If that wasn’t your intention, I’ll move on. :wink:

In any case, thanks for your very kind words, Guest.

Wildflower

Anonymous:

--- Quote from: Wildflower ---
--- Quote ---

--- Quote ---The helpful, recommending, jointly exploring, encouraging ones
versus
the talking at me, telling me what to do, assuming, imposing, lecturing ones who set too high goals and tasks for me at my level.
--- End quote ---


It took another, closer reading to hear that you may be trying to tell me something here about the way I approached my first posting.  If you are, I know I have a tendency to get on a podium sometimes.  I try not to, but I may have slipped again here.  I’m sorry if I gave anyone a frozen brain.  If that wasn’t your intention, I’ll move on. :wink:

In any case, thanks for your very kind words, Guest.

Wildflower
--- End quote ---


Gosh I positively absolutely wasn't referring to you at all Wildflower, I actually wasn't even thinking about anyone here at all when I wrote that.

I was thinking about Miss Freegard my maths teacher in high school, and how different she was from Mr Tainton my English teacher. I loved maths till I got Miss Freegard as a teacher. She ruined my love of school & maths and teachers for quite some time.

And those ridiculous short skirts she wore, made of what looked like felt, finished off with a huge thick black patent leather belt pulled as tight as possible around her waist. The belt was nearly as big as the skirt. And then the black knee high boots did it for me. She had such shapeless legs that didn't meet at the top, you could have driven a double decker bus through them and not touched the sides.

Add to that her shouting, telling, demanding and lecturing and teased hair and blue eye-shadow. How the hell could I think about maths, I was trying to work out why she wore brown mascara and black eyeliner and reddy brown eyebrown pencil.

And why hadn't anyone told  her someone with such a flat bum shouldn't wear short tight skirts. If you have a flat bum you wear full pleated or swirly skirts. Anyone with a brain knows that. She lost my confidence. :D

Then there was Mr Tainton. He was gorgeous, old, soft, gentle, leading, encouraging, laughing, and even the boys loved him. He poked fun at himself and made us laugh. And taught us how interesting the dictionary was by playing a game he made up for his kids with us.

I play that game now with my kids. Pass the dictionary. I pick out a word, whoever guesses the correct meaning gets the dictionary to pick out a word and so on. I really loved his manner and I worked so hard in class and on the assignments and each and everything he asked me to do.

No no no, Wildflower, I don't see you like Miss Freegard at all, you're like Mr Tainton.

Love to you Guest.
--- End quote ---

rosencrantz:
And all I feel is sick and ashamed and lost and alone.  And if I post this I'm probably ruining the thread.  It's a nice thread.  I've lost 'me'.  I don't know where I am any more. What the hell did my mother do to me. I'm trapped in circles - I'm got at from every side - and then criticised for going in circles.

I thought it was meant for me, too, Wildflower.  (I'd try to wink but I haven't the strength).  Other stuff, too.  Maybe it was.  Because I 'know' I'll be the bad person round here.   I'm on the edge of believing that but what I do know for real is that the feeling/thought comes from childhood because it was precisely that feeling that stopped me 'fronting up' to that 'bad therapist' (inexperienced is perhaps a better word).  I would be the 'bad' person and get into terrible trouble and probably be abandoned if I 'preferred' someone else (eg to talk to the more experienced therapist) so I had to stay in the bad relationship and just cope. :idea: ping! (I also knew at the same time that this represented my relationship with my mother and father - but how to even begin to explain!!?)

I did write down my experience, tho - what was 'real', what I thought was 'real'.  I don't know exactly what I wrote - he threw it all away.  He came back off holiday and I said, can we look at the letters now (he never mentioned them during our sessions, I must have sent him one every week trying to explain things better!) and he said, "oh I threw them away when I was clearing my desk before I went on holiday"  :shock:  (I know what that felt like, but I won't be so basic!  Let's say he threw away some precious gifts I'd given him. It gave me a lot of pain; I'd trusted him by not keeping copies. I keep copies of everything now!!!)  

I guess I was in a better 'space' after a break away from him, but I never did get a chance to sort of 'review' the madness. To see whether or not it was madness or whether it was real.  

I used to think : He is a nice person (so how can I think he's doing terrible things), he is young, he is inexperienced; so was my mother.  Who's who??  What terrible guilt for thinking 'bad' thoughts about him (I don't even know what the bad thoughts were - anger? dissatisfaction? competitive? wanting to take his place?  I phoned up once and the receptionist thought I was his wife.  :shock:  That's all I needed.  Quick, find me the funny farm - catatonia would make living so much easier!!!!!)

But you go into therapy to try to work things out.  You're meant to use your brain so don't start picking on me again and tell me not to think.  I'm sure he would have preferred me not to think - but it was easy, then, to stamp out the threat because I was very, very 'nice' and very, very accommodating - then.  I discovered later that the only way to become 'me' was to stamp about a lot and make a racket to be heard!!!  :idea:  I have this idea you have to fight for your life if you want to be born/become independent/become strong (but I didn't realise there was absolutely no point in making a racket, that the earth would explode before her disorder would 'hear' me!!!)

I think it is true to say that I've been well and truly f@d up by some people in my life.  I don't even know if I've ever been sane- perhaps I'm just all 'a great big front'.  I can be who you want - who do you want me to be?  I'm good at that.  However you define me, I'll fall right into the mould.  It's so hard to stay 'me' if I'm amongst people who want to define me according to their own 'demons', unless I'm really, really alert. And if someone wants to define me according to something nice, I risk alienating them if my identity is an issue for me.  Mostly I go with the flow but then it sets up expectations and disappointments.

Oh, here's a good one.  When I was two, I was taken to the social services to sort out why I was so clingy!  They put me on one side of a door and my mother on the other, shut the door and then held me back while I screamed and screamed to reach her.  Don't you understand you dumpkopfs that I have to be with my mother to look after her so that she can look after me????!!!!!  No, people don't understand what's going on in the head of a two year old.  They just play 'sadistic' games instead.  It was totally ineffectual as I was 42 before I worked that one out and realised that not everybody else's needs come before mine!!!  

I had to stop laughing that deeply, Wildflower - I'd get an asthma attack!!  But I would if I could.  :wink:  

I post to say I'm OK then suddenly slip into some ravine again.  I guess it's getting better - just up and down.  

R

rosencrantz:

--- Quote ---my mother is ‘hard of hearing’, which is true in the metaphorical sense. Her physical hearing is just fine – but that doesn’t stop her from saying ‘huh?’ after everything I say
--- End quote ---


I'm glad I came back to this thread and found this again because I wanted to share an idea with you.  

Her 'hard of hearing' may be psychological but there's also something called CAPD - it's like a hearing dyslexia.  

We discovered my son has it and it's something to do with the left or right side being stronger than the other so that what goes in one ear has to travel a long way to get processed.  I'm also sure my husband suffers, too.  Ask him 'what did they just say' and he, without fail, tells me the last but one thing someone said.  Weird - until you know.  

They really do take longer to process what they hear and often it doesn't get processed at all with kids who have a busy mind (mine's got an imagination that never stops) as what you say just doesn't get time to be processed before the mind is whisked off elsewhere.  I found that simply repeating what I wanted (eg put your coat on) several times without stopping provided enough input to reach him.

I've discovered that in the States they are passing this on to the audiologists but as it's not a 'hearing' issue per se, but a processing one, I think that confuses things.

Just a thought to play with.
R

PS Central Auditory Processing Disorder

Portia:
Hello R, can I tell you I'm having a visceral response to your post?
Like  :cry:  :cry:  :cry:  :cry:  but no tears as such from me, just the pain behind my eyes and in my head. I'll just say you're not alone, no more than me, or others....or anyone. I read the Shamed poem. I could feel myself kicking against the holding hands together...because I don't really trust all that well. And no daughters for me thank you! But I'm still here. Going to post on Myers Briggs now, that's occupied me all morning! :roll:  Sending some rainbows your way. (((((R))))) P

and another post above! Look at you helping! Helping..trying to help..

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