43rd "Anniversary" Mumblings

[sKePTiKal]

So... I'm fairly convinced now that there is a distinct physical aspect or perspective to the kind of emotional warpedness that I still experience and am working on. I've spent some time trying to "see" the connections... trying to find where this began to "go wrong" - in other words, where emotions and physical sensations and impact of the emotions got so hopelessly whirled together that it was difficult to tell body sensations apart from emotions. There are a lot of starting points for jumping into this, and I tried on a few and none of them were overly coherent or useful. I'm beginning to see that after working so long from the emotional starting point... the rest of the potential for progress might be from a physical starting point.

And then I realized that the date of my "very bad day" trauma was fast approaching... the Ides of March, the 15th... today. One of the things I know I've glossed over in my healing "program" are the physical-emotional aspects of the rape and near death experience. There were bigger things to get to and deal with than even something like that, for me... so perhaps this "new" idea for working from the physical is just a return to "finish up" the work that at that particular time, simply wasn't as important to me. (And this is the first year that there is no more internal Twiggy-tales about it; it's all just "me" now.)

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I just had an experience yesterday that provides an example of my inquiry:
I've been working with a woman, long distance over the phone on a business project. (Degree of difficulty for communication is already kinda high). I asked, what I thought was a simple yes - no question and what I got back from her was a continuous stream of information and regulation that she was obviously reading. I rephrased the question, I kept trying... but in all cases she kept returning to the words on the screen and referencing things that were outside of what I had asked and she wasn't speaking to me, from her understanding of those words. Fortunately, there was another person in the call who could "translate"!!

That 90 minute call, left me feeling like I'd been run over multiple times by a very, very large truck. I felt deflated and flat and beyond tired... and I "needed" to withdraw into myself to "recover". But I didn't. I'd postponed an errand to make the call... so hubs and I went out. Back home - I dove into my paper and began to insulate myself with the chips and dip I bought. Like slathering on a mustard plaster... for this particular emotional "wound".

My other phone conversations with this woman have been similar. She talks down to me - always gives me way more detail than I want or need, even though I've explained I do have some experience in the area we're discussing - and she always tries to "drive" the decision-making process. The conversations have been longer than necessary - I've felt she's pushy and doesn't hear me - and I've "pushed back" in self-defense.

I used to feel guilty about defending myself when confronted by these kinds of oblivious overbearing people, but I no longer have that kind of reaction. Progress! The area that still concerns me, though, is the kind of "need" I have for self-soothing and the way I do this. The way people like this barge right into and over what I feel are my "boundaries", regardless of how I try to back them up. Why do I not see this coming - especially given past experience - and yank the driving wheel out of her hands? Why does an experience like this leave me feeling so weak, wounded and "left for dead"... that my rationalization engine feels justified using any means whatsoever to "recover"?

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At a primal level, as infants... there isn't much difference between physical comfort/discomfort and emotional calm and comfort. And I think people's neuro-"firmware"... our amygdala reflexes and the brain systems that evolved out of that... have retained a fair measure of combining emotional reactions with a physical sensation. We have so many verbal expressions of emotion that are described using physical metaphors - walking on air, feeling crushed, a sinking fear in the pit of the stomach, deflated, etc.

It's "normal", in other words to feel emotions in combination with some physical sensations. At least in Amber's World of Explanations. What I'm finding dysfunctional - even self-sabotaging - is how I deal with that.

Some part of this is derived from a dysfunctional attachment style. Neglect... leaves an infant to find their own form of self-soothing... for me, withdrawal. And I suspect there might even be some distortion of the emotional impact of the "wound"... of whatever nature... the reinforcement that my needs are not important via neglect... so that the emotional is felt physically and therefore a physical solution (along with sensory withdrawal) is necessary for re-establishing equilibrium.

Yet again, there is a negative reinforcement when the physical solution "adds insult to injury" - when the infants' need for food, clean diaper or just physical touch is met with roughness, anger and resentment. Seeking emotional "Comfort" is dangerous, hurts, and makes things worse, in other words.

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Shame is another element of this puzzle. One would think I feel shame as I'm stuffing chips & dip mindlessly in my mouth. Absolutely not! The emotional need expressed physically trumps that. It's when I'm finally giving myself permission and taking an opportunity to indulge in self-care - particularly things that FEEL GOOD - when I've noticed that I feel rediculously foolish, that I'm feeling some kind of core over-riding shame that interferes with my initial motivation, continuing pursuit of those goals, and even my desire to feel physically healthy. The same exact thing happens when I lay out an intentional plan of action to quit smoking - not smoking brings up this feeling of shame. Go figure.

It's completely upside-down, inside-out and this one threw me for a loop - until I remembered some discussion of this kind of thing, over on the After Silence board, for sexual abuse and rape victims. And I was able to connect this, to a suggestion that Guest made over on the Designing a Healthy Ego thread - about needing to "trust in oneself". There are lots of ways that sexual abuse victims learn not to trust themselves - especially their bodies. And it doesn't seem to matter what age a victim - or survivor - is... though the lack of trust in oneself tends to integrate deeper in younger people, as they build defense mechanisms and coping strategies around the initial wound.

So this is like coming full circle for me... and tackling the original problem that my T and I identified about me not trusting myself. It involves in large measure so many of the projections from my mom, that I was not able to defend myself against too. And how this manifests as that nasty-whispering-cop on my shoulder... in my thoughts. But this time, instead of working from the emotional side back to the physical... I think I need to turn the process around.

And when the shame comes up, follow the advice of Twoapenny's grandmotherly T - tell it to F off and ignore it. After all, it's just a feeling and feelings pass or change - they are very ephemeral... and my particular set of feelings is some sort of leftover from the Twiggy days... and up till now, I've let them make decisions and control me. Time for an adult in that mental-emotional room, I think.

[Guest]

that's a shame strategy that works for me Amber.

Oh and that old chestnut, comparison. It has its uses.

[teartracks]

((((((((((PR)))))))))

tt

[lighter]

Yup, time for an adult, (((Amber)))

You're gonna be fine: )

Lighter

[sKePTiKal]

So the work on this new theory begins; I had an interesting dream...

back in Twiggy's old house - only lots more rooms - and I was getting ready to "leave for the day" (as if my "shift" was over)... told my Dad 'bye and be good... and had to stop to lock all the doors... Heavy, wooden; painted that house's color of green - doors with elaborate sliding double latches that were difficult to work - to keep my Dad IN, so he wouldn't wander off or hurt himself. There were some other bizarre things in the dream... that I sorta feel were just thrown in for "effect"... the main symbol is that door. I don't ever dream about my Dad, and don't recall myself as Twiggy dreaming about him either.

I know if I just remember the dream - and wait long enough - the meaning of this will arrive in my brain.

Worked more, packing up MILs stuff yesterday. It's still hard. I still have a next morning grief reaction, but it's a welcome OK grief - there's a ton o' love mixed in with it. It was physical activity - "work" - which I can do without all the complicated crap that comes up with self-care. Usually, I can do physical work longer than a lot of people. I do take frequent breaks... one thing I've noticed is like a muscle spasm in my back whenever I'm doing something like this that has a lot of emotion involved. OK, it's hard not to notice it! It hurts. It comes up with cooking also, which makes no sense. As if I'm carrying around a couple hundred pounds on my back and shoulders while going about my task. Or expecting to be stabbed in the back... or something like this. But I will drive myself on & on, without eating even to exhaustion... until the task is complete... or complete enough for me. Same with working outside.

But self-care or things that feel good - even simple stretching - forgetaboutit! That's just not on the "list"... not allowed... don't deserve this... it's a "stupid" thing to do... 'coz we're all gonna get old, sick and die anyway or hit by a bus or tsunami... or so goes the "tape" in my head from the "good old days". I don't have a whole lot to debate this old tape with; but I do have what I learned with MIL... helping her recover from a stroke... get her strength back from major surgery for lung cancer... and how we coped with radiation, chemo drugs, and even her last illness. I do have the wacky ideas that I put out here, for Iz... and others... try this... maybe this will work.

MAYBE... what that old tape has turned into now... maybe that's one those "feelings" that got projected on me... that I internalized... and because it's associated with my body (and therefore, shame)... maybe that's why it's like the last, most stubborn piece to kick out of my life. HEY, I've left husbands for the same kind of crap.... so I'm really not understanding what the power of this particular thing is, over me. And one more idea has popped into my head:

what is the role of compassion - self-empathy (or it's other cousin, self-pity) in all this? Because, if I had to say what that message was... it was direct permission to neglect myself, over-indulge in foods that aren't healthy, lay around and do nothing physical... nothing with my body that "feels good".

That is strictly prohibited... and gets lumped into the "shame" category under the sub-head of "self pity"... or pampering myself... or thinking I deserve this - when of course, the wicked witch in my house wouldn't/couldn't do this for herself... and therefore, I wasn't allowed either. That "hurt' her... and it was "my fault"... I was bad and shameful... for really enjoying how my body felt - ice skating, wanting to learn ballet, running, climbing trees, rolling down a grassy hill in the sun, feeling myself attune to horses galloping into the wind.  Oh, and she was jealous because I was tall and skinny, like a willow wand and just as flexible.

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I've been able to at least call a truce with the "mom in my head" about the things that she decided would happen after the rape. I can see her reasoning about the abortion makes some sense, given her mentality and my age. She really, really wanted me to prove that "girls are smart and successful and capable"... even as she gave me explicit messages to the contrary... stupid, clumsy, not good enough. She wanted me to do it - because she wanted to do this herself... and whatever her odd mental illness is... she couldn't. (weird - how that also fits in with projections...)

I can even even see that the "shame" she felt about what happened to me... she pushed that on me... and then tried to deny any of this ever happened - to protect herself from the feeling of shame... hoping against hope and even working hard to get me to forget it, too. It really was more than she could bear. I'd already seen her go through one nervous breakdown, when my grandma died... she came very close to another, in this time period. My mom simply fell completely apart when she felt any emotions. She felt them as physical assaults on her being. And yes, she'd fight and throw things like a 3 yr old having a temper tantrum any time she couldn't hold off any feelings. I saw this again 10 or so years ago.

My whole life, I've felt like she was somehow vicariously living through me... sending me to learn so that I could teach her how to fix herself... using me to interface with the world that she feared so much... forcing me to be two people - myself (which is the one that had to endure the negative messages) and her pawn, substitute, golom infused with all her projected crap giving me the quest of finding a solution to her "problem"... until I learned about boundaries, that is!! 

I have a concrete, distinct memory of my mom giving me a bag of potato chips when I expressed an emotion... saying "here, eat all of these, it'll make you feel better - but you have to eat the whole bag." And telling me that's what people do with emotions. That was one of her beliefs that she projected... wanted me to believe too (to make it OK for her?)... something she stuck to me, as if I were the Tar Baby. It's NOT me, though. She also bitched furiously about how little I ate because I simply didn't have the appetite she did and couldn't eat those huge portions. I've already been through this... but I still must be missing something obvious as hell - so big I can't even see it.

Maybe that something big, is that she had such complete control of me - and I of course "gave up" and didn't tell her F off or that she was crazy or couldn't tell me what to do... I gave over all my own personal power to choose for me... I acquiesced; collaborated; cooperated - participated - in my own undoing... because it was the only path to survival that my kid mind could think of, at the time. Or MAYBE........

since in her mind, it was my Dad who was "so bad"... because he liked people, having fun, he liked to feel good - emotionally and physically... maybe in my dream, I was locking the door to keep him "in" because that's what my mom wanted... god forbid, since she couldn't/wouldn't allow herself to feel good - anyone else should. Maybe I should've left the door in my dream - unlocked - and given my idea of my Dad - my own ability to do things for myself that are healthy and feel good - FREEDOM.

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Guest: what do you mean about comparison? Can you finish that thought for me? Thanks!

Light, m'dear: I'm actually "feeling" OK... maybe kinda like I'm polishing a turd... a bit silly going through this yet again... but also like FINALLY there's some fresh air in a space that's been shut up against the light and is damp and musty. There's something "new", but I don't know what it is yet... some new energy... or pattern emerging. It's all good.

[Hopalong]

Just messing here, fantasy wise, not sure it'd be any bit helpful, PR, but just in case...

She talks down to me - always gives me way more detail than I want or need, even though I've explained I do have some experience in the area we're discussing - and she always tries to "drive" the decision-making process. The conversations have been longer than necessary

I'd like to start our conversation today by expressing something that might help us work together better. And it would remove an obstacle for me, so we can all get more done in less time. It will take me just a minute to explain, would you be willing to hear me out?

I've been noticing that although I've mentioned I do have some ____ experience, I feel as though I'm receiving much more detail than I would like. I find that this can interfere with clarity, for me. I appreciate the knowledge you have and the information you provide, and I want to thank you for the effort you've been putting into that. But today, I'd like to request that you try to give me LESS detail. I want to take leadership of the decisionmaking for this dialogue, and this is how you could support me in that. Would you be willing to give that a try?

The other thing that hit me was about the back pain you've been feeling while:

1) packing up MIL's things
2) cooking

I could only think of how deeply intimate and domestic the packing is (and how much that would trigger feelings about being a daughter--DIL, same thing). And secondly...cooking...MIL's biscuits.

love to you, Amber--

Hops

[lighter]

Amber:

It's interesting that you see yourself as the responsible person, but still a child, in that dream with your father.

Do you think that Twiggy ever wished that her father would come home, take over the duty of caring for the disordered mother, and let Twiggy leave the house/responsibility of safety to him?

Maybe Twiggy didn't want him to get in trouble, with your mother, for being outgoing and people loving?

Maybe Twiggy wanted him to stay inside, not upset the mother, and save himself (and her)?

Lighter

[Guest]

Hi Amber

Guest: what do you mean about comparison? Can you finish that thought for me? Thanks!

Can't remember right now sorry Amber. Not good for much at the moment and you know what? That's okay too: it all is. Take care.

[sKePTiKal]

OK - no problem, Guest! I have those flashes of inspiration that seem to go just as quick as they come, some days too.

Lighter... you're spot on all the suggestions on the dream, except maybe the last one. My Dad's mom was even worse than my mom... and when he stayed home, all my mom did was abuse him and twist the knife in the old wounds that his mom created initially. Even though he was the one drinking heavily - he was the domestic abuse target in the FOO... no one's ego could survive that unrelenting onslaught of criticism, invective, and projected "blame" and "shame" without fighting back, one way or another.

It probably infuriated him no end, when he finally couldn't take any more and lashed out (altho' in many cases mom swung first)... and then she hollared "abuse"... all while he simply wanted to come home to peace and quiet, to be comfortable and to rest and have his own space there... safe space.

Then, after he was gone, it seemed to me that I became the new target. Bro of course, being the golden child... and still inseparable from his mommy.
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Even though my mom tried to convince me I was "just like her" - and in her sick way tried to MAKE me just like her... I knew that my real self was a lot more like my Dad. I liked people and when I got past my anxious self-consciousness... I had fun with them. It's a real head-trip though... to realize that a part of me is like him (especially at that time, in those early teen years) and to have to listen to a constant propaganda stream of negativity about him... about how he was bad through and through.

The "bargain" was - to be able to live in my mom's house, I had to keep the parts of me that were like my Dad - locked up. Safe from becoming her target again.

And you know - I was really hurt and felt abandoned when he left and didn't take me with him. I totally feared what would happen being left with her. And then... all the rape trauma and all that... and I think all that made it through my fog in those days... was that my Dad was "bad".  My Dad being - the bits of me that were like him. I did like feeling good... having fun... dancing. Maybe that's the source of this "shame" about doing things for myself that feel good... self-care things. Maybe.

My mom's BW thinking didn't have room for "and" statements: responsible adult "and" able to feel good and have fun... her version of martyrdom precluded any and all forms positive aspects of life. And she clung to this... as if she'd melt in sunlight and fresh air... into nothing. And she didn't/doesn't recognize that other people are able do this... that having fun and enjoying oneself and feeling good, doesn't mean one is a reprobate, degenerate, good-for-nothing, irresponsible slob.

[lighter]

I wish your father had taken you with him, Amber.

I really really wish he had.

Lighter

[sKePTiKal]

After all this "walking around" in all the old story cesspool...

I think what it all comes down to - is that I need to ignore the feeling of "shame" that comes up when I do something I need to do physically - enough times, that the feeling just goes away... the association with self-care activities is broken. Other feelings that show up as part of a rationalization or it's cousin: conditional thinking... shouldn't be allowed to take root and attach themselves to the activity, either.

And then, perhaps the way will be clear for physical work to actually impact those feelings once and for all. To make bigger, deeper changes... permanent ones.

(thanks to tt... for giving me another opportunity to talk this out!)

[sKePTiKal]

Just did a re-read of my own thought process... so far.

The feeling of shame that comes up when I coerce myself into exercising, planning healthy meals... isn't just a pure single emotion. There's guilt mixed up in that - of being able to do something bioNic mom can't... there's also fear of being "caught" and the consequences... being made fun of, told I don't deserve it... of being called "greedy" and "selfish" and "egotistical" and "vain" for wanting to work off the pounds, look good, and be "normal"... having friends...

... like I'll somehow lose some "special status" of being unique, special and different... by losing the role and feelings that are leftover, clinging cobwebs... of that one warped, sick relationship in my life.

When you get right down to it - that's just a power-situation where my needs and wants aren't important - because compared to what bioNic mom wanted... what I wanted didn't matter.

She found ways to sabotage me... to make sure I didn't feel good... so that I would be absolutely DEPENDENT on her "approval" - which in the end was only given when I was meeting her needs and doing what she wanted. That is the "special status" that mattered... and anything else wasn't important... unless it threatened that special relationship.

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So... I've noticed that I have to constantly be putting something into my body: smoke, water, food... like there is an insatiable need that I'm trying to fill. I "have to" play puzzle games in situations where I'm forced to sit and wait so that I have something to prevent being bored, or people watching or becoming more and more impatient... and I choose to play the same puzzles as a way to return to center... to self-soothe... not think... activate R-brain's comfort and peace systems - equilibrium.

My "theory" is... that my physical needs for comfort, soothing, safety and calm... went unmet beginning very early on. And that those needs were attributed to character-flaws... rather than simple infant/toddler/child environmental requirements. I was given "substitutes" to placate me, keep me occupied, get me to be quiet & "go away"... rather than having my emotional and physical needs for touch, comfort and safety met. And that's how the confusion and merging of physical/emotional awareness happened... and why there is this wacked association between the two.

BioNic Mom's jealousy comes into play... her insistence that the world was a bad scary place and all the people in it trying to get one over on her... and that everything that was happy, fun, felt good would end badly - or was sinful - and most of all, didn't support her idea that catastrophe, doom and gloom, and self-abuse was the only "right" way to be. After all - if there was proof otherwise - why would I continue to mother her? So there is the built-in "time bomb"... the guilt, shame... for simply having fun, taking care of myself, feeling good.

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So, my brain mis-interprets physical - emotional sensations... and perhaps this is why I suffered so many psychosomatic symptoms from emotional distress. BioNic mom could address "physical" symptoms - here, eat this - but not emotional ones.

So... to put things right... my intuition about ignoring the emotional signals - shame, guilt, feeling foolish - for doing physical self-care (observation allowed - but not letting the emotion STOP me) might have some value.

Time to experiment!

[lighter]

Oh, I would love to see you what you paint, if you were to paint, over the next few months, Amber: )

Lighter

[Guest]

Amber

I "have to" play puzzle games in situations where I'm forced to sit and wait

I had to read this twice. Three times! Ahhh you mean puzzles on paper? Crosswords, suduko?

Whenever are you forced to sit and wait?

"Please take a seat and s/he'll be with you in a few minutes."

Sometimes I do, sometimes I don't. The times I don't, those certain gatekeeper types, they don't like it. I've been told again to SIT more than once. And then of course, I won't. Unless I want to. Just fun.

[sKePTiKal]

Hi Guest...

maybe it's connected to the physical stuff... maybe not... but I'm like the world's worst "waiter". Doctors offices, a group of people (usually with small people) trying to get ready to go somewhere en masse... a) there's usually a tv on with a channel selection that makes me want to yell back at the tv... or there's obnoxious people who are oblivious to the rest of us, and how uncomfortable the rest of are due to yelling at kids - yelling kids - or one time, even a Mother-caregiver-son conversation that was a picture perfect example of my bioNic mom.

Paper puzzles are a last resort. When I was a kid there used to be these handheld number puzzles with sliding red/white squares and one empty space... but since hubs has introduced me to video games and I can now navigate the controls (which was why I was the last computer geek on earth to play these)... now I use a DS or iPod and play some variation of Bejeweled. Altho... I have to admit I am now getting hooked on Angry Birds - one slingshots these birds into building blocks trying to blow up silly looking pigs. It's kind of an Archimedes game... selecting the right angle and "lever" to bring the whole structure down... I think I like the silly noises the best... I never care about points; just getting the next level open.

Our last Dr appt, MIL noticed that I was frantically working my puzzle... we'd had a long wait in the waiting room; a struggle to get her there... and the reason for being there was vitally important: adjusting her coumadin dose... MIL leans over and says: You just can't sit still can you? I told her, no - not for long; my body does NOT like being in a chair and it doesn't feel good to sit so long... so I use the puzzles to kind of sedate it, give it (and my mind) a focus...

... I got "trained" in and accepted this technique for coping because it was better than the constant barrage of "leave that alone, get over here and sit down, what are you doing now..." or the unbearable physical restlessness I feel when forced to try to become comfortable in a chair... and the consequential admonition to "stop squirming"... while I stretched, shifted, tapped feet or fingers... waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting for it to be "my turn".