I am under orders tonight. Those orders come from my T, who I saw today. Those orders are to take a break from all things emotional for a day or three. She's concerned that circumstance and enthusiasm are going to leave the cupboard bare of cope and hope. I am feeling good, but I am exhausted emotionally. I don't have much left in the tank and need to take care of that. I've not been work-functional for a couple of days, and it is obviously due to the heady number of emotion-driven events of the last week or so.
So with that, I slumber and rest, and onto a new day.
Friday, March 4, 2011
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Tell Me Lies Tell Me Sweet Little Lies
It starts here.
Lies
I read this posting today and I was floored by the fact that something I've been so crushingly ashamed of actually has a reasonable basis in logic and reason. If I look at it with some honesty (ironic?) I would say that my lying falls into two parts of the definition. First, I am over honest. I spill everything and anything about some of my more intimate details very easily. This blog is somewhat an evidence of that, if I consider it fully. It is certainly evidence of a lack of practice with boundaries and understanding what "normal" is. The other area that strikes me is the grandiosity lies. It strikes me very much as a need to prop myself up and be seen as more than I feel I am. Which if I take a breath for two seconds and look at what I've accomplished in life, in terms of professional and personal, there is no need for a prop. But I can't shake that sense of drowning in the juices of my own stew. I have nothing to be ashamed of for who I am on the inside, and that's something I need to grasp with both hands. Maybe I wasn't born this way, but I sure earned it.
I am very tired again. Emotionally worn out, and that isn't necessarily a bad thing. I am working hard with muscles that I've frankly never to very rarely used. I want to keep going, to move forward, more and more, but I am tiring quickly. I am still doing my three things every day, and it feels good. Somewhere on my list of next baby steps is my physical fitness level, but I am only cautiously stepping towards that one.
Realizing that I am a normal product of the chaos I grew up in is a safe feeling. I like safe.
Lies
I read this posting today and I was floored by the fact that something I've been so crushingly ashamed of actually has a reasonable basis in logic and reason. If I look at it with some honesty (ironic?) I would say that my lying falls into two parts of the definition. First, I am over honest. I spill everything and anything about some of my more intimate details very easily. This blog is somewhat an evidence of that, if I consider it fully. It is certainly evidence of a lack of practice with boundaries and understanding what "normal" is. The other area that strikes me is the grandiosity lies. It strikes me very much as a need to prop myself up and be seen as more than I feel I am. Which if I take a breath for two seconds and look at what I've accomplished in life, in terms of professional and personal, there is no need for a prop. But I can't shake that sense of drowning in the juices of my own stew. I have nothing to be ashamed of for who I am on the inside, and that's something I need to grasp with both hands. Maybe I wasn't born this way, but I sure earned it.
I am very tired again. Emotionally worn out, and that isn't necessarily a bad thing. I am working hard with muscles that I've frankly never to very rarely used. I want to keep going, to move forward, more and more, but I am tiring quickly. I am still doing my three things every day, and it feels good. Somewhere on my list of next baby steps is my physical fitness level, but I am only cautiously stepping towards that one.
Realizing that I am a normal product of the chaos I grew up in is a safe feeling. I like safe.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Not Yet a Woman...
Life is rolling. It is moving in fits and sputters, but unlike much of the last 4 years, it is moving. I am feeling quasi-human, and that's a start. I am still fighting the depression, and still get wrapped around the axle on feeling ashamed and humiliated by what I've done. I can't say it clearer than that. Not sure what to do at the moment with that, though I have a clear sense that that shame and the corresponding self-sabotage are what is singularly standing between me and the next gatepost. I am not seeking a life of denial and to launch myself headlong into the abyss of "solving" that problem. What I am going to undertake is patience, and try some self-understanding. I want to lift the veil of shame and live more freely of who I am. On the surface, and even at my core, I know that most people think I am the cat's meow and not the dog's breakfast. But the absence of anything to buttress my shame and loneliness against leaves me bereft of substance enough to feel any peace.
I attended a meeting tonight, an open AA meeting where a friend was speaking. He is a great guy I've met through ACOA and listening to his story, as usual, I heard much of my own. He spoke of never having felt like he belonged, of always having to have a prop to get people to like him, of being a teller of tall tales that amused people enough that they'd like him. That's my story too. I don't remember ever feeling secure in and of myself. He also spoke of enjoying being alone. I so know that feeling, and to this day will withdraw into a vacuum of human interaction if you let me.
On a side, but related note, I have sworn of the internet porn thing for a while, because I think I've been using it as a crutch of avoidance. It can be so compelling to get that rush of testosterone, and to overwhelm my feelings of inadequacy with feelings of manliness. Not so different from the place I ended up with serial infidelity, where it was more about living out Oedipal compulsions and sub-conscious impulses than it ever was about sex and intimacy. It just isn't a healthy place for me, to self-medicate. I am running away from what I want to be when I do that.
I attended a meeting tonight, an open AA meeting where a friend was speaking. He is a great guy I've met through ACOA and listening to his story, as usual, I heard much of my own. He spoke of never having felt like he belonged, of always having to have a prop to get people to like him, of being a teller of tall tales that amused people enough that they'd like him. That's my story too. I don't remember ever feeling secure in and of myself. He also spoke of enjoying being alone. I so know that feeling, and to this day will withdraw into a vacuum of human interaction if you let me.
On a side, but related note, I have sworn of the internet porn thing for a while, because I think I've been using it as a crutch of avoidance. It can be so compelling to get that rush of testosterone, and to overwhelm my feelings of inadequacy with feelings of manliness. Not so different from the place I ended up with serial infidelity, where it was more about living out Oedipal compulsions and sub-conscious impulses than it ever was about sex and intimacy. It just isn't a healthy place for me, to self-medicate. I am running away from what I want to be when I do that.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
We Aren't Going to Go There
Went to the marriage T tonight. I am ambivalent about the experience, but after a sleep, I expect to be all cool with it. The MT went through all the systems and processes for how he runs his deal, and it all made real sense. It is based on the IMAGO approach from some guy who wrote some book about getting the love you need. It broke down into the same lizard brain versus the frontal cortex discussion that I've focused my depression T on and my mindfulness approach to doing 3 little things every day. So I was all cool. Then he said that we weren't going to get into the betrayal at this first session as it is too charged with emotion. I thought, cool that makes sense, and lines up with my trying to approach things with the antithesis of my usual approach to charge headlong and aggressively into everything I "go after".
So, near the end, we started doing one of the exercises, and what do we end up talking about? My infidelity. I felt crushingly shamed sitting here talking to some guy I just met about the singularly most shameful acts of my existence, in front of someone who is still very hurt and angry about my actions. It kicked my ass a bit, to be totally honest and I am feeling incredibly emotionally fucked up. I am living with a weight of shame and remorse, and I don't feel terribly much like adding to that burden while I am also trying desperately to lift my head out of a major depression. I am not trying to make a cope out or excuses, because I am responsible for what I've done, I am just trying to find a pace of healing that lets me survive this. Yes, these are my actions, based on compulsions I can't understand or quantify, to self-mutilate in search of something, something I know not totally what I was looking for. I do know that I damn near destroyed myself in the process, and hurt my SO so greatly that I am still at risk of losing her.
I know I need to make amends, but I can't do it if it will destroy me in the process. It is clear to me that I need to take time and place with this, even at the risk of hurting her a little bit more, because I want to survive this to make it through. It sounds dramatic, and overwrought, but anyone who's been to the darkness knows that you don't compound your exit from it with more horror. I need a beachhead of safety and relative personal sanity, and I am getting there. This is not a rip the bandaid off moment, that's my usual self-mutilating stupidity.
So, near the end, we started doing one of the exercises, and what do we end up talking about? My infidelity. I felt crushingly shamed sitting here talking to some guy I just met about the singularly most shameful acts of my existence, in front of someone who is still very hurt and angry about my actions. It kicked my ass a bit, to be totally honest and I am feeling incredibly emotionally fucked up. I am living with a weight of shame and remorse, and I don't feel terribly much like adding to that burden while I am also trying desperately to lift my head out of a major depression. I am not trying to make a cope out or excuses, because I am responsible for what I've done, I am just trying to find a pace of healing that lets me survive this. Yes, these are my actions, based on compulsions I can't understand or quantify, to self-mutilate in search of something, something I know not totally what I was looking for. I do know that I damn near destroyed myself in the process, and hurt my SO so greatly that I am still at risk of losing her.
I know I need to make amends, but I can't do it if it will destroy me in the process. It is clear to me that I need to take time and place with this, even at the risk of hurting her a little bit more, because I want to survive this to make it through. It sounds dramatic, and overwrought, but anyone who's been to the darkness knows that you don't compound your exit from it with more horror. I need a beachhead of safety and relative personal sanity, and I am getting there. This is not a rip the bandaid off moment, that's my usual self-mutilating stupidity.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Sing a Song of Sweetness
There is no specific thought or theme in my mind as I sit down to wordvomit. I am cognizant of the fact that there is peace in simply exercising the disciplines of writing of my inner sanctum. The day, in and of itself, was not remarkable, though my grumpiness at work was noticeable, it didn't translate to the homespace, as I spent the evening nurturing the kiddies and playing games and sports. It seems a little strange to have that paradigm inverted, but I'll take it 100 fold.
Tomorrow is the counseling with the SO. I am a little nervous, as I am sure I have to tell the "story". It makes me feel great shame to tell where I ended up, and more than a little denuding to tell wherein I came from. I guess from my last T session I feel a little better as she asked me what percentage of survivors of childhood abuses like I suffered truly survive to have "successful" lives. I hemmed and hawed, and she talked about massive longitudinal research studies, murders, suicides, incarcerations, institutionalization and told me that only 12% of people who've lived my life have survived. 1 in 8.33 I whipped back at her. It floored me more than a little, and still to this moment fills my heart with some emotion that I can't shake. Maybe pride, maybe guilt, maybe doubt? I don't know. But while I have wallowed greatly in my ocean of self-pity, hanging on by a thread, I have in fact, hung in there. I guess, even at the weakest correlation, that is somewhat amazing.
The fact is, that I know that 1 in 8 all too well and can simply expand my personal horizon to my own wider family and see that that ratio holds true, and then some. It is sad, sad, sad. I am not crazy, as we talked about with my T, and the most probable conclusion we could draw is that I've never stopped fighting back. As I said in the concussion post, I will brawl until the death, just give me a chance. I know others who've fought, but mostly with themselves. I fought my torment, my tormentors and never stopped. Maybe that's the deal, but I don't know. But I'll take it for now, and sleep soundly.
Tomorrow is the counseling with the SO. I am a little nervous, as I am sure I have to tell the "story". It makes me feel great shame to tell where I ended up, and more than a little denuding to tell wherein I came from. I guess from my last T session I feel a little better as she asked me what percentage of survivors of childhood abuses like I suffered truly survive to have "successful" lives. I hemmed and hawed, and she talked about massive longitudinal research studies, murders, suicides, incarcerations, institutionalization and told me that only 12% of people who've lived my life have survived. 1 in 8.33 I whipped back at her. It floored me more than a little, and still to this moment fills my heart with some emotion that I can't shake. Maybe pride, maybe guilt, maybe doubt? I don't know. But while I have wallowed greatly in my ocean of self-pity, hanging on by a thread, I have in fact, hung in there. I guess, even at the weakest correlation, that is somewhat amazing.
The fact is, that I know that 1 in 8 all too well and can simply expand my personal horizon to my own wider family and see that that ratio holds true, and then some. It is sad, sad, sad. I am not crazy, as we talked about with my T, and the most probable conclusion we could draw is that I've never stopped fighting back. As I said in the concussion post, I will brawl until the death, just give me a chance. I know others who've fought, but mostly with themselves. I fought my torment, my tormentors and never stopped. Maybe that's the deal, but I don't know. But I'll take it for now, and sleep soundly.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Take Me Higher! Higher!
I shall, by all intents, be brief in my ramblings this fine soiree. I am still wiped out from not sleeping for a couple of days but I am pretty ok with that. I know that so much of my not sleeping is due to the emotional over stimulation of the last week. I really am ok with that, as I see it as the portal to growth. And I feel, in some little, tiny, infinitesimal way I am growing. That makes me feel so happy.
In my weekly home group meeting of Al-Anon this evening, I related a story to a fellow member of having been challenged with the whole concept of a Higher Power. I am struggling, and probably always will with the concept. I also related how I am trying to take some advice I was given on living with depression, and that was to focus on only 2-3 little things that you can point to every day on which you've changed something, even tiny, that will move you closer to being where you want to be. I related how I'd done a chore that I'd been procrastinating on, with my eldest daughter helping, and we had a cool talk while we were doing it. I related that I had done some other things as well. But then I told about having taken my daughters to the dog park with the two much loved canines. It was a lot of fun, and right at the end, my oldest asked if we could also walk the trail that surrounds the park. My first instinct was the usual no, as I was growing a little weary. But something made the words "Sure" pop out of my mouth before I could even let the negative thoughts finish and off we went, having a fun, but addingly exhaustive walk with the pups. It was a wonderful experience and I am feeling very emotional thinking about having done that. My Al-Anon friend looked at me earnestly and said something quite profound. "Who do you think it was that said yes? It was your Higher Power, of course".
In my weekly home group meeting of Al-Anon this evening, I related a story to a fellow member of having been challenged with the whole concept of a Higher Power. I am struggling, and probably always will with the concept. I also related how I am trying to take some advice I was given on living with depression, and that was to focus on only 2-3 little things that you can point to every day on which you've changed something, even tiny, that will move you closer to being where you want to be. I related how I'd done a chore that I'd been procrastinating on, with my eldest daughter helping, and we had a cool talk while we were doing it. I related that I had done some other things as well. But then I told about having taken my daughters to the dog park with the two much loved canines. It was a lot of fun, and right at the end, my oldest asked if we could also walk the trail that surrounds the park. My first instinct was the usual no, as I was growing a little weary. But something made the words "Sure" pop out of my mouth before I could even let the negative thoughts finish and off we went, having a fun, but addingly exhaustive walk with the pups. It was a wonderful experience and I am feeling very emotional thinking about having done that. My Al-Anon friend looked at me earnestly and said something quite profound. "Who do you think it was that said yes? It was your Higher Power, of course".
Called in Sick
So, it happened, but it wasn't a bad thing. I missed a blogging day. Net-net? Was out late at a little get together up the street and was just too damn tired to do anything when I got home. The get together was with the same person who asked me about the lack of positive male role models in my life, and we hung out with some couples. Had some snackies, beverages, and watched a marriage video. I was really skeptical, as I was kinda expecting a Jesus-loves-you kinda thing, but it was a suprisingly good video and I enjoyed it, as did the SO. It was nice.
I am out of emotional gas and haven't really slept for a couple of days what with all the new stuff I've been working through, so with that, I am out, but will do my regular post later.
I am out of emotional gas and haven't really slept for a couple of days what with all the new stuff I've been working through, so with that, I am out, but will do my regular post later.
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