I guess this post is about acceptance except in this case it is not acceptance of a physical or a health problem it is acceptance of an emotional problem. I wish I could have a counseling session with Deepak Chopra and learn to "Let it go!" or perhaps a consultation with Steven Covey so that I could more easily accept the shift of a problem from my circle of control to my circle of influence.
Please accept the following as undisputed facts. There is a situation in which I have been wronged by someone but I am forced (this is not under debate) to rely on an intermediary to deal with the situation. The intermediary is quite fair but is not without their own set of needs, wishes, and demands as regards this issue. They are an intermediary not an advocate. I think it would be reasonable to say that this intermediary is trying to finesse the situation so there is a minimal amount of damage done to any of the parties - but the damage has already been done to me.
I'm finding myself very frustrated, hurt and angry about some of the intermediary's choices, particularly by the fact that my issue and my agenda has been shelved, for the moment, while other issues are taking precedence. I can see that this is a reasonable course of action but that doesn't stop my feelings of frustration and abandonment coming to the fore. I know that my actions and reactions are causing damage. So I have reached a place where my intellectual self knows that I need to control the only things that are within my sphere of control... these are of course, myself and my own actions and reactions.
So how can I divorce myself from the emotional response I am having?
I am responding to the original transgression in which I was a collateral casualty - this arouses fear, feelings of helplessness and also hopelessness... it triggers memories of other situations in which I was forced to be the passive recipient of abuse, it is perhaps triggering stress responses that were implanted in me 40 years ago.
I am also responding to the fact that the intermediary is not acting as my advocate. They have, at times, advocated strongly on my behalf but they remain firmly in the role of intermediary and at the moment they are not focused on their advocacy of me, and I do intellectually understand, if not fully agree with, why it is being handled this way. However, this is triggering feelings of abandonment, galloping insecurity, fears for the future, and a terrifying sense of my alone-ness in this world. Again issues from my past- BIG issues.
So I'm hurting a lot and I have no means of changing the source of that hurt... I can't change my past... I can't change the events of this issue... I can't change the way this issue is being handled... I can ONLY change my response!
Listen everyone, I know this is something that could only be fully achieved through years of therapy but I can't afford to spend years or even months rolling around in this cesspool of semi-polished turds. I need the Reader's Digest version and I need it NOW!
I need to accept that this has happened and release it...
I need to accept that the intermediary knows best and is doing their best for everyone...
I need to accept that my feelings about abuse and fears of being abandoned are actually unreasonably exaggerated by events from my past...
I need to accept that the best chance I have for making a decent future for all parties in this action is for me to become more relaxed and easy-going about the outcome and the process...
I need to accept that my current responses are damaging and that not causing further damage is actually my highest priority...
So help me please... I don't know how to magically sweep my soul clean of all these twisted emotions... I'm hoping that writing about it will help, sometimes it does... I can't "get it off my chest" or anything like that to the other party but I can write as if it is for them to read.
Any ideas, thoughts and suggestions would be very gratefully received!
Showing posts with label depression. Show all posts
Showing posts with label depression. Show all posts
Tuesday, 21 February 2012
Thursday, 24 November 2011
Is you is, or is you ain't depressed?
Yesterday I had a bit of an argument with the psychologist I have been seeing,
She thinks that I'm depressed and I don't think that I am any more depressed than any intelligent person would be in my situation. There's a lot of stuff going on in my life at the moment that is cause for concern. Problems with housing, money, the government, oh and let's not forget the stress and uncertainty associated with my health. There would be something wrong with me if I were vivacious, bright, bubbly and effervescent all the time! Quite frankly, if you take your car to the mechanic and you tell him what is wrong with it, is he or she very likely to turn around and tell you you sound like you hate your car? Of course when I am at the psychologist I talk about the things that are bothering me! I have been depressed, I've been down in the blackest parts of my soul. Hell, I've hung out down there and had a good look around; stirred up the demons. I know what depression feels like and this isn't it!
Perhaps I should be aiming to give a more fair and balanced account of my state of mind? Maybe then people would stop asking me if I am thinking about hurting myself? (This was asked at least 5 times last week which I must confess was a rather low week for me.) More to the point I am concerned that if the medical professionals who are handling my case start to focus on the idea that I am depressed the next thing they will be saying is that the pain and fatigue (and all their nasty little friends) are all caused by depression and THAT is quite simply NOT the, case. This pain has followed me, to a greater or lesser extent, through all kinds of emotions, through great highs and horrible lows, through hopeful excitement and abject misery.
Sooooooooo in view of the fact that it has been Thanksgiving in the US, the first Thanksgiving I have missed in a dozen years I am going to talk about some of the things that I am hopeful and excited about.
She thinks that I'm depressed and I don't think that I am any more depressed than any intelligent person would be in my situation. There's a lot of stuff going on in my life at the moment that is cause for concern. Problems with housing, money, the government, oh and let's not forget the stress and uncertainty associated with my health. There would be something wrong with me if I were vivacious, bright, bubbly and effervescent all the time! Quite frankly, if you take your car to the mechanic and you tell him what is wrong with it, is he or she very likely to turn around and tell you you sound like you hate your car? Of course when I am at the psychologist I talk about the things that are bothering me! I have been depressed, I've been down in the blackest parts of my soul. Hell, I've hung out down there and had a good look around; stirred up the demons. I know what depression feels like and this isn't it!
Perhaps I should be aiming to give a more fair and balanced account of my state of mind? Maybe then people would stop asking me if I am thinking about hurting myself? (This was asked at least 5 times last week which I must confess was a rather low week for me.) More to the point I am concerned that if the medical professionals who are handling my case start to focus on the idea that I am depressed the next thing they will be saying is that the pain and fatigue (and all their nasty little friends) are all caused by depression and THAT is quite simply NOT the, case. This pain has followed me, to a greater or lesser extent, through all kinds of emotions, through great highs and horrible lows, through hopeful excitement and abject misery.
Sooooooooo in view of the fact that it has been Thanksgiving in the US, the first Thanksgiving I have missed in a dozen years I am going to talk about some of the things that I am hopeful and excited about.
- I'm eagerly anticipating going back to University next year. I see it as an opportunity to retrain into an area where I might be able to get high paying part-time work that I could participate in regardless of the effect of fibromyalgia (or whatever the hell this is). I also see University as an opportunity for me to shine and to increase my pretty low self-esteem. I have always done well in the past and I hope to do well again. Furthermore it is an opportunity to meet bright, interesting people and to expand my social circle.
- I have been spending time with The Boy who is now looking at staying in Sydney and perhaps not moving to the UK for a while. He makes me feel happy and proud and we are close and getting along well (complete with our usual bickering).
- I have rediscovered many of my old friends and I have been spending time with them and I have been feeling appreciated and cared for. The Best Friend is like a shining beacon of warmth and support and makes me laugh hysterically every time we meet!
- The Reader is angling to get me some copy writing work which would be something I could comfortably do while lying down (which I spend 80% of my life doing). This would help with my financial woes, and perhaps even my housing problems.
- Then, out of the blue, there is The New Connection with an old friend that seems to be blossoming into something tender and beautiful. There is even a tiny little voice inside me that is asking ...? well... I'll pause that thought for now. However she is coming to visit Sydney soon and I am very much looking forward to spending time with her when she is here.
- I have been seeing a really AWESOME group of doctors. Dr McLovely is caring. helpful, compassionate and kind and Professor McCool is uber cool and is leaving no stone unturned. While his investigations are hanging over me a bit at the moment I am definitely more hopeful than fearful.
- Today I had a telephone interview for a part-time job. The good news is that it will not be until next year which gives me some time to resolve all the issues that are holding me back at the moment. Hopefully by then I will also be feeling better and stronger and I'll be able to work this around my University studies.
Yesterday I had an MRI (ordered by McCool) so no more calling me brainless, ok? I do have a brain I have a picture to prove it! I will be seeing McCool on Monday afternoon and although I am frightened of some of the possibilities (and of him finding nothing) I am also excited and hopeful that there might be something that can be treated. Naturally this is hanging over me to some extent... but I am honestly more hopeful than trepiditious.
Anxiety, I will cop to, I do have issues with anxiety and stress is a huge trigger for me, but depression? Not at the moment!
Tuesday, 22 November 2011
Protecting me or protecting them?
I'm wondering if it is just part of the human condition or if perhaps it is part of the Australian cultural identity or if maybe it is just me...
I just saw a facebook friend suggestion to connect with my first cousin once removed (my cousin's son) and it made me immediately think that I would really like to touch base with my cousin who I will call Sugar Plum (not because it describes her in any way but simply because it was part of a rhyme that my mother used to say in reference to her). When I first came home to Australia she was one of the first people I wanted to connect with but then my Gay Brother told me she was going for a month long trip overseas so I let it go... Now I know she would be back but for some reason I am hesitating to reach out to her. She was one of my mother's "girls", one of a handful of people my mother loved above all others.
Sugar Plum is about 9 or 10 years older than me (she was the oldest surviving grandchild and I the youngest) so when we were kids, although our families spent quite a lot of time together, she and I were not really in the same generation and had only passing interactions. I thought she was brilliant and glamourous and I think she thought I was hyper and annoying. By the time I grew into adulthood she had a husband and three rambunctious boys and I was off trying new things and spreading my wings.
The 1990's saw a string of horrible losses in her family. First her younger brother died of cancer and then her father, my beloved uncle (after whom I named The Boy) died and then her mother, my irrepressible aunt, died as much of a broken heart as of the colon cancer she had fought for so many years. My mother was by then the closest thing to a parent she had and I was happy to share her. Sugar Plum was the only person other than myself and my two brothers who we told when mum was dying in 2008. She made the trek up the coast to see mum one last time and on my way back to the US that trip, after mum died, I spent a night in her house and an evening laughing and crying together. It might have been the first and only time we were alone as two adult women.
I love my cousin, there's no doubt of that, but I don't want to burden her with my problems. I think it is human nature to want to solve the problems of others... As a side note I think that's why so many people are always making suggestions and recommendations to those of us who have chronic illnesses. I am wondering if my reluctance to get in touch is about trying to protect her from wanting to help me or if it is about protecting myself in some way. Time passes and it gets harder and harder to make that initial contact.
Back when I first got really sick with FMS, or whatever the hell they decide this condition is, I retreated. At that time I was living in the US and the people I withdrew from were my friends. I didn't want to talk about it, I didn't want to be a giant misery guts whining about how shitty I felt. I felt, in many ways as I feel today; I feel like I have nothing positive to offer, nothing to bring to the table. My health isn't my only problem at the moment (as if it wasn't enough), I'm really broke cause I can't work and I am living on a small government benefit. I can't go on staying where I am staying for much longer, and though my wonderful friend with whom I am staying won't throw me to the wolves I know that I am overstaying my welcome and that stresses me out. So back to the default setting I go - I retreat.
When I get really down and out, when reaching out to others would help, I do the opposite and pull away. I'm really lucky that there are a few people who listen and understand and don't seem to consider me to be too much of a burden so I'm not in complete retreat. I'm seeing The Best Friend several times a week and that's wonderful, and I had lunch yesterday with The Reader and that was great.... There are others who are there for me in wonderful ways, thank goodness. But I am feeling very uncomfortable about calling my cousin, I don't know if I am up to starting from scratch to explain all this to someone else and yet she is my closest living female relative and I am hers. We share a huge pool of people we have loved and lost and we are in many ways the only remnants of my mother's family.
So, should I call Sugar Plum?
I just saw a facebook friend suggestion to connect with my first cousin once removed (my cousin's son) and it made me immediately think that I would really like to touch base with my cousin who I will call Sugar Plum (not because it describes her in any way but simply because it was part of a rhyme that my mother used to say in reference to her). When I first came home to Australia she was one of the first people I wanted to connect with but then my Gay Brother told me she was going for a month long trip overseas so I let it go... Now I know she would be back but for some reason I am hesitating to reach out to her. She was one of my mother's "girls", one of a handful of people my mother loved above all others.
Sugar Plum is about 9 or 10 years older than me (she was the oldest surviving grandchild and I the youngest) so when we were kids, although our families spent quite a lot of time together, she and I were not really in the same generation and had only passing interactions. I thought she was brilliant and glamourous and I think she thought I was hyper and annoying. By the time I grew into adulthood she had a husband and three rambunctious boys and I was off trying new things and spreading my wings.
The 1990's saw a string of horrible losses in her family. First her younger brother died of cancer and then her father, my beloved uncle (after whom I named The Boy) died and then her mother, my irrepressible aunt, died as much of a broken heart as of the colon cancer she had fought for so many years. My mother was by then the closest thing to a parent she had and I was happy to share her. Sugar Plum was the only person other than myself and my two brothers who we told when mum was dying in 2008. She made the trek up the coast to see mum one last time and on my way back to the US that trip, after mum died, I spent a night in her house and an evening laughing and crying together. It might have been the first and only time we were alone as two adult women.
I love my cousin, there's no doubt of that, but I don't want to burden her with my problems. I think it is human nature to want to solve the problems of others... As a side note I think that's why so many people are always making suggestions and recommendations to those of us who have chronic illnesses. I am wondering if my reluctance to get in touch is about trying to protect her from wanting to help me or if it is about protecting myself in some way. Time passes and it gets harder and harder to make that initial contact.
Back when I first got really sick with FMS, or whatever the hell they decide this condition is, I retreated. At that time I was living in the US and the people I withdrew from were my friends. I didn't want to talk about it, I didn't want to be a giant misery guts whining about how shitty I felt. I felt, in many ways as I feel today; I feel like I have nothing positive to offer, nothing to bring to the table. My health isn't my only problem at the moment (as if it wasn't enough), I'm really broke cause I can't work and I am living on a small government benefit. I can't go on staying where I am staying for much longer, and though my wonderful friend with whom I am staying won't throw me to the wolves I know that I am overstaying my welcome and that stresses me out. So back to the default setting I go - I retreat.
When I get really down and out, when reaching out to others would help, I do the opposite and pull away. I'm really lucky that there are a few people who listen and understand and don't seem to consider me to be too much of a burden so I'm not in complete retreat. I'm seeing The Best Friend several times a week and that's wonderful, and I had lunch yesterday with The Reader and that was great.... There are others who are there for me in wonderful ways, thank goodness. But I am feeling very uncomfortable about calling my cousin, I don't know if I am up to starting from scratch to explain all this to someone else and yet she is my closest living female relative and I am hers. We share a huge pool of people we have loved and lost and we are in many ways the only remnants of my mother's family.
So, should I call Sugar Plum?
Thursday, 17 November 2011
Homeward bound, I wish I were...
The new med I'm taking has made me even more exhausted than usual and perhaps it is also making me depressed... It wouldn't be the first time an anti-depressant had a depressing effect on me. Wellbutrin made me cry all the time... I'm at the point (having taken it 3 times) where I am wondering if I should tell Professor McCool that it is having a negative impact. Being 3pm on a Friday afternoon I really need to make my mind up.
Today I received two almost identical emails both with the heading "Hello" both somewhat unexpected. One from my gay brother and the other from my step-sister. Both were inquiring if I am going to make it to Christmas. It must have been Check On Displaced Day. Hmmm. I mentioned this to both of them and my step-sister insists that it is pure coincidence.
Well, I just put in a quick call to McCool and after being routed to the wrong number 4 times I actually got his office where he personally answered the phone! He says to persevere and that the tiredness will pass in a week or so. He asked if I was suicidal. I've probably been asked that about 5 times this week. I'm not suicidal. I would never do that to my son. I couldn't leave him with that legacy. Although to be honest, other than him I sometimes wonder, 'what's the point?'
I do have a purpose though, at least for now... Shortly I am going to drag my sorry arse out of bed and go and pick up The Boy from the train station. Then I'm taking him back to The Best Friend's house and I'm going to hang out there for a while. She will make me laugh.
An interesting thing has been going on lately. I have reconnected with an old school friend (not one mentioned before) and we have been chatting online late in the evenings. I don't want to make too much of this but it seems for some reason, that is yet to be revealed, this connection is important to both of us. I actually think about our interaction during the day and even, dare I say it, look forward to our talks.
I wonder if there are people who are like the human equivalent of "comfort food"?
I pose this theory;-
We have a great deal in common (socio-economic background, very similar education, daughters of divorced houses, we have the same unusual name (girls called Displaced are pretty unusual), we are both lesbians, we are both single)
We shared a brief period of time when we were girls/young women (we sat next to each other in class, we belonged to the same school clubs)
We were both kind girls at a time when girls were often so horrible to each other.
We both hated the same teacher... and she hated us!
I wonder if we are comforting to each other in some way, like the smell of baking bread or apple pie might be if your granny had been a baker. My self esteem is so low at the moment I can't imagine that anyone would be interested in me in any way other than as a friend, I have so little to offer, so little to bring to the table...
So now I need to express my gratitude... The Boy, The Best Friend, The New Connection, The Reader, The Horsewoman, Dr McLovely, Professor McCool, you are all helping me get through this low period in my life and I am grateful for you all. I am also grateful for my online friends/readers/fellow bloggers - in particular my Fibro Sisters Jazz and Kathy and the coolest advocate of all Sarah... and never to be forgotten My Pseudo!
Today I received two almost identical emails both with the heading "Hello" both somewhat unexpected. One from my gay brother and the other from my step-sister. Both were inquiring if I am going to make it to Christmas. It must have been Check On Displaced Day. Hmmm. I mentioned this to both of them and my step-sister insists that it is pure coincidence.
Well, I just put in a quick call to McCool and after being routed to the wrong number 4 times I actually got his office where he personally answered the phone! He says to persevere and that the tiredness will pass in a week or so. He asked if I was suicidal. I've probably been asked that about 5 times this week. I'm not suicidal. I would never do that to my son. I couldn't leave him with that legacy. Although to be honest, other than him I sometimes wonder, 'what's the point?'
I do have a purpose though, at least for now... Shortly I am going to drag my sorry arse out of bed and go and pick up The Boy from the train station. Then I'm taking him back to The Best Friend's house and I'm going to hang out there for a while. She will make me laugh.
An interesting thing has been going on lately. I have reconnected with an old school friend (not one mentioned before) and we have been chatting online late in the evenings. I don't want to make too much of this but it seems for some reason, that is yet to be revealed, this connection is important to both of us. I actually think about our interaction during the day and even, dare I say it, look forward to our talks.
I wonder if there are people who are like the human equivalent of "comfort food"?
I pose this theory;-
We have a great deal in common (socio-economic background, very similar education, daughters of divorced houses, we have the same unusual name (girls called Displaced are pretty unusual), we are both lesbians, we are both single)
We shared a brief period of time when we were girls/young women (we sat next to each other in class, we belonged to the same school clubs)
We were both kind girls at a time when girls were often so horrible to each other.
We both hated the same teacher... and she hated us!
I wonder if we are comforting to each other in some way, like the smell of baking bread or apple pie might be if your granny had been a baker. My self esteem is so low at the moment I can't imagine that anyone would be interested in me in any way other than as a friend, I have so little to offer, so little to bring to the table...
So now I need to express my gratitude... The Boy, The Best Friend, The New Connection, The Reader, The Horsewoman, Dr McLovely, Professor McCool, you are all helping me get through this low period in my life and I am grateful for you all. I am also grateful for my online friends/readers/fellow bloggers - in particular my Fibro Sisters Jazz and Kathy and the coolest advocate of all Sarah... and never to be forgotten My Pseudo!
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