Post-therapy wrap-up
Therapy (on the phone) was really helpful today. I gained some nice new understanding of:
(1) how badly some of my parts want to reach out to others with authenticity, a touch of vulnerability and needs
(2) the protector part that jumps in the way of the above coming to fruition. the people-pleasing impulsive talking part who betrays all the vulnerability, the emotion, the “true” me in an effort to keep the whole system safe
(3)the reinforcement that the protector part receives each time I welcome into my life the types of people who will replicate the patterns of my youth.
What I’m left with is this: I want to do it differently this time. I want to figure out first how to distinguish those people who are NOT like my family of origin and who are safe to be me around and then how to let those people in a bit. The first part is crucial to remember because I definitely have “good therapy” parts who think that experiencing my emotions and being vulnerable is the end goal of therapy. But what’s the point if I finally get to that place with people who mistreat me again? No, I have to figure out before hand if my parts feel safe. B. says it’s just a process of being aware of what parts are most “in the living room” when I spend time with people. Examining what comes up when I’m with them. Awareness is not something I’ve been cultivating a lot of lately. I’ve been busy and distracted and ungrounded. Kayaking and yoga are top priorities for the week. Maybe listen to a guided meditation. Best of intentions…we’ll see how it works out.
Technology restriction
Today I’d like to do a little experiment in technology restriction. I have about 3 things that I absolutely HAVE to get done today, the not-doing of which will bring out some serious self-loathing that will keep me up tonight. So, seeing as how my computer has consumed about 83% of my waking hours lately, I’m going to restrict a bit. After this post, I will actually power down my laptop – that’s right – not just put it to sleep with it’s little head down. I don’t have any new DVD’s from Netflix so that’s out of the question. That leaves me with reading, sewing, playing banjo, walking the dog and actually doing what I need to get done today (oh how I loathe laundry). Wish me luck!
In other news I leave Tuesday at the crack of dawn (4:30 am) for my travels to NC for job interviews and househunting. I’m anxious but also really excited. It will be a high energy week of zooming here to there with my googlemaps directions and my snack bars in the rental car. Lots of cell phone calls and chaos. I’ve looked up the schedule at a reputable yoga studio and added it to the Microsoft Word document containing all the pertinent details of my trip (current document is currently 5 pages long). I’ll download some good podcasts to encourage me to take walks between interviews. And I’ll bring a journal. I’m basically trying to prepare for the stress and anxiety that will wind me up TIGHT all week and the pressure of decision-making on my own with no boyfriend-sounding-board to rely on. I’m going to try not to call my family either. I don’t want to be influenced on these decisions – I want them to be my own. I’m bringing my computer so perhaps I’ll blog about it to keep me a bit grounded. That’s the plan anyway…we’ll see how it goes.
I think I finally did some un-burdening in my IFS work the session before last. I’m not even sure I understand what happened but it seemed to help. The parts we were working with were ones that protected me ferociously from feeling intense emotions because of the ongoing threat from an early age (both spoken and implied) of impending bad things that happen as a result of feeling too much. The most obvious one being that my dad would kill himself if anyone let him see how much he hurt others. But there was a much more subtle insinuation that if you allow yourself to get really sad, your life will permanently fall apart. Even now my mom will say things like, “What does your therapist want you to do..lay in bed crying all day and not go to work and lose your job and have to be institutionalized?!” (okay so maybe the insinuations weren’t so subtle afterall…) The implication being that taking one day off (or even 3) to cry when you call of your engagement will lead your life into a rapid downward spiral to homelessness and straightjackets. There it is…the idea that even the smallest bit of sadness, anger, depression, hopelessness will suck you into a vortex of unending yuck. Others in my family are black-and-white thinkers, too, but mom I think was my greatest pedagogical influence in the ways of emotional restriction and detachment. And on the cusp of my big move and all the changes, I realize that she also has sent the message that if something is change for the better, then there’s no reason to feel sad about it. Relationships ending are a perfect example – I’m not sure she even grieved over her 16 year marriage to my father ending. Granted, it was on some levels a huge relief and I can imagine parts of her wanted to do a touchdown dance of freedom. But certainly some parts were really sad. So I haven’t really grieved my losses of the recent months. I’m leaving a place that holds many complicated and wonderful memories. I’m leaving a really awesome group of co-workers. The clinic that I worked for and invested so much of my heart in, is closing. I’m leaving behind a bunch of kids who I spend hours working with each week – some of whom I’ve grown to adore. I’m leaving the chance of bumping into J at the grocery store and I’m introducing the distinct possibility that I’ll never see him again. So much is there and I think it’s time to let it out. Most recently I’m grieving the few friendships I have here that are still young but could have potentially grown into something great. And certainly I’m grieving the loss of the most influential and amazing therapist I’ve had and my wonderful group. This is hard. This part doesn’t feel like it’s for the better. I am scared to move on.
So much is going on for so many of my parts right now. My managers are working diligently around the clock to coordinate the logistics of my move and all the transitions (enter “Things to Do Before I move” word document including such highlights as “oil change” and “sell used snow tires”). I need to take some time for the grief to swell. So power-down, dear computer. Take the day off, I’ve got some other plans.
Friends
What does a Saturday spent with female friends mean to me? It means that Sunday can be spent sewing, cooking, working out, cleaning all without even for one second feeling lonely. I’m not so needy that I can’t bear to be alone for an hour. In fact, my mom reportedly gets confused because I send mixed messages of enjoying alone-time but hating to be alone. It’s true. I guess this does sound confusing.
I guess I need solid friendships in which I really feel known and valued in order for alone time to feel tolerable – even enjoyable. So rather than feeling like today was a sad pathetic exercise in tolerating excruciating emptiness and solitude – it was more like a treat. I got to spend the day doing whatever I wanted and relax my social muscles after a big day yesterday. Quality time with good women friends is so nourishing to me. I’m still figuring out why friendships are hard for me and romantic relationships jump in the way so frequently.
Breathing into it.
Boston road-trip: successful
Visited my cousin and two friends (plus all three’s significant others) and it felt really great to be social and catch up. I felt.very.single. But that’s okay. I’ve got a lot in my life I’m working on right now and I’m on the brink of moving – FOR ME. Making a major decision without the influence of a male partner. That is huge. Monumental. Put a plaque up somewhere, people.
I didn’t make it to a museum today but I did take in a yoga class before scooting out of Boston. It was a free class taught by students in a teacher training program. Basically a pretty strenuous vinyasa class. Because no one knew me and I wouldn’t ever see these people again, I really tried to set the intention of setting aside my “worried about what other people are thinking”, “perfectionist” and “competitve” parts aside. It wasn’t easy, especially since the teacher:student ration was about 1:3. There were lots of adjustments and assists and cues/tips/suggestions. Every 4 minutes it seemed someone was whispering in my ear to move my feet back or lift through my middle back, lower my chin, raise my chin, relax my neck, and on and on. Ack. But it was a really good exercise each time in asking my self-critical part to relax and step aside. That I didn’t have to make the adjustments just because they were suggested. That these folks’ job for the day was to adjust people. I just breathed through each whispered suggestion and decided what was best for my body today. I felt a little surge of pride when I responded to “you could sit up on a bolster and be more comfortable” with “oh, thanks, but I’d rather use the block”. High fives to myself for getting what I needed from the practice.
I’ve recently felt this pull toward yoga teacher training but I’ve simultaneously realized how much room for growth there is in my own practice. Why should I start wanting to give away to others and help them? Right now, this may be the one thing that is truly mine (okay, maybe other than ED and Sam the dog). I want to indulge in my own practice as much as I want and keep yoga a personal endeavor for awhile. So teacher training takes a back burner. Maybe it always will.
Road Trip
I am driving to Boston for the night. I’ll visit my cousin and two former roommates, hopefully take in a museum and a yoga class. I’ll return Sunday night, hopefully with a renewed faith in the fact that I have a life and that I have some people who care about me and enjoy my company. Sam the dog will come with me, which is always a nice antidote to the anxiety of traveling and being out of my comfort zone.
Thursday night group was really good – there were some nice comical moments and I got a good (very brief) cry in. I didn’t intend for it to happen but it did as I described the wound of disappointment that keeps getting re-opened when a member of the group (who was not there – she’s in residential for the next few months) makes plans with me that she bails on at the last minute. I didn’t realize how deeply it stirred up past hurts until the tears and the sobs erupted. Dab dab at the eyes with a tissue, take a few breaths and the flush had faded from my cheeks and the waterworks had dried up. I like this girl and I wanted so badly to connect with her. It felt so fucking good that she seemed interested in the same. And so fucking bad when she couldn’t hold up her end of the bargain. Obviously since she went to residential this week she’s got her own very serious issues that likely prevent her from socializing (whether they be physical, ED, or emotional issues). But B. reminded me that my caretaking part for her shouldn’t shove aside my hurt and disappointed parts. I know that I’m encouraged to bring this up in group when the group member returns because it’s supposedly a really great opportunity for us each to speak for our parts and feel some hurt in a safe and supportive place. Blech. I don’t know about that. I can only imagine what I would hear if someone told me I had disappointed them. B. and C. reassured me that in words in group there was a strong message of “I wanted so badly to connect with her and was so excited at the prospect” that may be positive for her to hear but all I can imagine she’d hear is “you disappointed me” and then….of course….the internalized “you are a bad person” “you are a lame friend” “you will never be better than a disappointment”. I’m projecting, yes. But I don’t want to hurt anyone else, even if doing so expresses my true feelings and protects me. Wow -there’s fodder for about 26 therapy sessions!
Grey Day
Just a grey day here. Lots of intention to do things. Not a lot got done. Took a day off work and feel it was wasted. What did I expect? It’s me. Me who has lost any sense of adventure. Me with the social isolation. Me with the inertia holding her back.
I’m feeling pretty grey after my birthday. I got about a million and one facebook happy birthday wishes, about 6 phone calls and a dinner of leftovers and Grey’s Anatomy DVD alone. It’s that last part that’s really affecting my mood. What a pathetic evening, one that happens at least 5 out of every 7 on any given week. But it hurt on my birthday. A lot. I talked about it in therapy today and how I have a really hard time making close friends. I meet people easily, make a good first impression, am generally likeable but have such a hard time forming closer more meaningful bonds. I totally realize that I have a part to play in that. I avoid opening up and experiencing vulnerability at all costs, which tends to keep friendships superficial and doesn’t welcome intimacy or connection. But also, B. brought up a really valid point that those intense friendships take time – for everyone. After high school, I’ve never lived anywhere long enough for it to happen. Which I think factors into my addiction to intense romantic relationships – it’s an easy way to feel that connection pretty quickly. But this whole friendship thing is going to be really important if I’m going to not fall head first into another relationship that’s not right for me. And it is factoring HUGELY into my decisions about where to relocate. The main city where I’ve investigated jobs and sent my resume is a city where one of my oldest friends lives, where I have a cousin close to my age, where several of my sorority sisters from college live – who I feel closer to than most acquaintances. There’s a bit of a support system there. It’s also within a days’ drive of about 30 other friends and family.
In other news, I had my first chiropractic appointment today. It’s a newer form that isn’t about cracking and popping and forceful manipulation of the spine. It was…exactly the opposite…the guy touched me about as lightly as you would to dial a number on your cell phone….about 10 times. And that was it. He told me a bunch of stuff was wrong with my spine and then told me to come back twice a week. I left with a brief feeling of – “ooohh…did it work? can I feel anything different?” and then…”no. not really. other than the discrete absence of $100 from my checking account.” I do want to pursue some more body work, especially during this time of transition. But I feel like I’d rather put my money towards accupuncture – which I know makes me feel different right after. I highly recommend alternative holistic health treatments – but only one’s that feel effective. I know that’s likely not the same for everyone but I don’t think Network Chiropractic is for me.
Pause. Rewind.
I just had a girls’ night. Like an actual fabulous girls’ night in with three amazing women. Champagne. Cheese. Chocolate (apparently the 3 “c’s” of a girls’ night). A projector my friend borrowed from work splashing enormous images from episode 1 of My So Called Life across the barren wall of the most beautiful apartment I’ve seen outside of magazines. Then Sex and and the City the movie with plenty of chit-chatting between.
Almost. As if. I. Had. Friends. It was great. Perfection. Just what I needed on a night when I have a sore throat and am feeling overwhelmed by the turmoil that is my professional life and geographical location at the moment.
Everything is moving so fast
It feels like the world sped up. I know I said I was busy but this feels like some sort of cosmic conspiracy. It was four o’clock today and I would have sworn it was only noon.
In therapy tomorrow I’m planning to at least mention the relocation plan to B. I’ve really decided to go for it and am starting to feel a little worried. I’m considering letting work know of my plans in the next few weeks. Despite the fact that I don’t have my “next job” lined up, I feel like committing to taking travelling positions means that there WILL be a next job – even if it’s not exactly in the place I want to be. I’m willing to be flexible in order to make a change happen in my life. And the fact that I am the only full-time therapist in a non-profit whose financials are abysmal with one other part-time therapist going out on maternity leave in July – I feel like I need to give them as much heads up as I can so that I don’t cause the doors to close. Also, I keep getting thrown these new clients or longer-term commitment tasks that I don’t feel it’s fair to take on knowing that I’m about 90% sure I’m leaving in May or June and positive I’ll be gone by September. I think the faster February flies by (wait, did I MISS January?!) the more I realize how soon May and June really are. I have a few once a month clients that I’m realizing I may only see 3 or 4 more times. So there’s a lot to chew over. The only reason I’m not up and out of here now is my therapy. My group. My individual treatment. I don’t even feel like May/June is long enough for it but I’m ready to move on in every other area and I feel like the work ahead could take years.
As an aside, I started feeling yucko about Valentine’s Day. I realized I have NEVER been single for V-day. Like EVER. So rather than wallowing, I sent a bunch of pretty cards with a handwritten message to my 5 closest girlfriends and my mom. Makes me feel warm and fuzzy about V-day now. And I’ll be with a good friend – who happens to be a guy – so it’s almost like I have a date. Except that it is in no way shape or form a date. An almost date is enough for me not to go nosediving off any high bridges.
Anyways, this whole time warp I’m in has made getting to bed at a reasonable hour very difficult so I’m headed that direction now.
life and other busy-ness
My work life has been absurdly busy the last 4 days I’ve been there. My office is merely a place to toss my coat and Sam’s leash in the morning and a depository for paperwork throughout the day. Paperwork I never get a chance to file, look at or even sit still in close proximity to. It’s good to be busy, though. Certainly makes my not-so-busy evenings feel welcoming and comforting rather than painfully empty. Although, recently even those evenings haven’t been free of the busy-ness. Between cleaning, cooking and eating dinner, walking the dog, getting lost in Barnes and Noble* on my commute home and group therapy 2x a week – bedtime keeps getting later and my evenings feel pretty full.
I ate more than would have wanted tonight but luckily had stocked my pantry with really only healthy things….so my post-dinner snacks were half an acorn squash, an orange, and a yogurt. Hardly can beat myself up about that, right?! Still want to work on the food zone out and downloaded Geneen Roth’s book “Food is Love” tonight to listen to while dog-walking. Mainly I bought it because it was mentioned in a podcast I was listening to tonight (coincidentally about food and nutrition and even more coincidentally heavily weighted toward a “mindful eating” approach rather than counting calories, food logs, etc.).
This Friday I fly back to my homestate to visit a dear friend in Charlotte. Technically speaking, he was my high school sweetheart but it has morphed into my second longest friendship and a really wonderful supportive relationship. So I’m leaving my pup at home with a professional dog-sitting service. I have a lot of leaving-Sam-anxiety and it’s ramping up as evidenced by 4 drafts of an information page of everythingyouneedtoknowaboutSamandthensome because it didn’t seem thorough enough on the first 3 attempts. Should be a really great weekend, though, with coffee dates on the horizon with several other friends who live there. And it’ll be nice to escape the busy-ness and have a long weekend**!
*My local Barnes and Noble officially blows goats. Of the 17 books I have gone there seeking lately, they have had 1 – ONE – in stock. I finally caved and ordered two today and cross my fingers they’ll arrive before my flight on Friday.
**I don’t really consider it a day off, however, when I reschedule all my Monday clients for the remaining 3.5 days of my workweek. I wish I was better at just saying – I’m on vacation and will not be rescheduling. Maybe next time? For now my quest to make everyone else happy all the time continues…
p.s. as I was tagging this post I had a moment of shock and horror when I realized that in my tag cloud suicidality is bigger than The Avett Brothers. Must insert more TAB into my blogging and rectify this situation!
When you’re hurting, just go Yurt-ing
After a little bit of stressful indecision this week about “what to do this weekend” (amazingly I had two offers on the table!), I opted to stay close to home rather than travel to Boston. Largely because I couldn’t find a dog-sitter. But it turned out to be a wonderful decision because the local option was to join an old friend on a winter women’s weekend. Her mother rented a yurt, which I admittedly googled after the invite was extended. And I learned that a yurt is a large, round semi-permanent tee-pee type structure. This women invited a bunch of friends and her daughter to escape reality, do some winter camping in the yurt and partake in some snowshoeing and cross country skiing in scenic Vermont. I joined for the afternoon, which was quite brave considering I don’t know this woman’s mother or her friends. But I have been absolutely dying to do some winter sports – well, all winter.
After parking my car, I stared at my chicken-scratched directions on the back of a receipt, took one look at the wooden sign pointing straight up a snowy hill towards “Maple Yurt” adjusted my backpack straps and started hiking. I was carrying borrowed snowshoes and a grocery bag with wine and gluten free snackies. My boots sank in the powdery white stuff and my legs felt as if I was walking through molasses. And then it hit me – THAT’s what the snowshoes are for. After fumbling with the straps a bit and muttering something about hoping I’d put them on right I began trekking. A successful endeavor for a Southern girl, I must say. And I got to chuckle at myself for being so silly carrying the snowshoes as I waded through the snowbanks.
The afternoon was really wonderful and just what I needed. A mini-adventure complete with outdoorsy activity, a sense of adventure, wine and warm and welcoming people. Turns out many of the women didn’t know each other well, if at all. So I wasn’t the only unfamiliar face. My one regret is not bringing Sam the dog. Turns out he would have been totally welcomed and I know he would have been on cloud 9 hiking up the mountain off-leash. In the yurt he may have cleaned up spilled trailmix on the floor and then settled in for a nap near the wood-burning stove.
I’ve recently been craving a retreat. I’ve been twice to Kripalu for yoga and meditation weekends which completely revitalized me. I’ve decided that it would be a supreme act of self-care for me to just budget for one to two retreats or workshops per year. And like I said, I’ve been itching for one lately. So I’ve found a weekend yoga workshop in Boston related to yoga for anxiety, depression and insomnia. I thought it would give me some good tools to deepend my practice and tailor it to my mood on any given day. So I’m trying to register and plan for that. Also it will be my birthday weekend so a little gift to myself.
Off for a bath to soak what will undoubtedly be some sore legs tomorrow. I have the borrowed snowshoes until Tuesday, though, so I’m hoping to take Sam out for a trek.
