what alone feels like
when by choice it feels like wind in my hair on a long bike-ride. sun on my face on a run with The Avett Brothers screaming from my iPod. enveloped in a comfy chair at Starbucks with a good book and cup of tea on my lap. when by choice it’s an adventure, a journey, an accomplishment, a point of pride.
so why, right now sitting alone at work does it feel more like imminent doom? in front of a computer at work. not another soul in the building. so quiet i can hear the heating ducts rattling above my desk. and it feels like in the movies when a wall of rushing flood water is careening through a tunnel and it’s about to round the curve and overtake the protagonists. any moment i will be suffocated by the silence and the stillness and the space. why can’t i relish this peacefully with a meditative mind? why does it make me restless and panicked?
I never thought…
I’d lose touch with my blog. I never thought I would so seamlessly transition from “bad girl for not posting every day” to “when was the last time I posted???”.
I’ve asked myself a few times recently if I’m avoiding anything by not posting. I claim I’m so busy but really I’m parusing westelm.com and drinking wine. So why have I felt the disconnect?
the logistical updates include that I landed a job I wanted (or at least think I want at this point in time – you never know based on a 1 hour interview and tour, do you?) and I start Friday May 1 (god bless health insurance companies – it is for their sake that I start work on a Friday). I move either Sunday or Monday april 26/27th. I have 10 days of work left and 17 days left in Vermont. I have a list of things to do before the move, things to do after the move, who to notify of my address change and what things to sell at my moving sale. My manager parts have done their part.
I think, honestly, that so much is going on that a post feels daunting – where to even begin?
What I’ve been dealing with in therapy today and in group tonight is the internal battle between some young, exiled parts who want very badly to weep and feel all the sadness right now and the protector parts who don’t want to. It’s awfully new and a mark of therapeutic process that I have parts voicing the need to express sadness. They are mightily pissed off that they’re finally speaking that need but the protectors won’t let them jump into the pain headfirst. I started shaking in group tonight – like full-blown tremors – because I was talking about my Aunt Julie and my fucking protectors weren’t letting me feel sad or cry about it. I felt like my head was going to explode.
I’m also feeling a really really strong attachment to my dog right now. I mean, I always do but right now it feels heightened. We talked in therapy about “transitional objects” today and also about the role that animals played in my childhood (including Yoda the turtle). In all the change and closure and transition occurring at home and work right now my daily mantra is “Sam is moving with you”. I’ve imagined where I’ll put his bed. I’ve imagined him sleeping in the bed with me in the hotel on the way to NC. He is my comfort right now. And as the staff has dwindled at work he is my protector when I’m there all alone (the clinic was broken into the night before last and I am NOT happy about having to be there alone so much in the next two weeks). I felt so needed when he sought me out the other night when he had a tummyache (from eating my co-worker’s going-away cake!). He came to the head of the bed, sat upright and put a paw on my shoulder, panting heavily in my face. I’m rambling, but ultimately I feel pretty unanchored and alone right now and Sam is “my buddy” through it all.
Sunday is Easter – my Aunt Julie holiday. don’t know how much I’ve discussed my Aunt Julie on this blog but she was my dad’s little sister. She lived 2 hours from us and was unable to have kids of her own. She was THE nurturing figure in my life – warm and cuddly affectionate. A fourth-grade teacher who “got” the way kids work. So every year I do something for Aunt Julie on Easter and this year I’m stumped. My younger parts are pissed that my protectors are working overtime and protecting me from the one day that I actually allow myself to feel sad and miss her. Been dealing with that and talked about it in group.
I’m feeling pretty checked out at the moment. Some wine in my belly. Ready to walk Sam and head towards the bed.
reason #421 why being alone sucks
I am sick. Up and down all night to get tea, another throat lozenge, another blanket, my iPod, and on and on. All the while a hedgehog as lodged itself somehow in my throat. Prickly little bastard makes my voice faint and my eyes teary. Slight fever and absolutely no desire to leave the house. But the lack of television makes things around here, well, Bo-RING! It’s times like these that make me miss J. He’d swing into full nurse mode – getting up with me in the night, running to the store to get Nyquil, renting movies. At least for one day, he’d be attentive. Then he’d go back to sleeping and moping. His empathy, it seemed, far outlasted his energy.
Operation find a new job is in full force. And since the great state of Vermont has about 3 positions available (one of which is at my current job – which is going out of business any minute, one of which is at the SNF that made me cry on Friday, and one of which is at the hospital over an hour away which seems quite impractical), I swung into gear looking for a position in NC. My manager parts are efficient little fuckers – I emailed a cover letter and resume to 9 – yes NINE – different places yesterday. Mainly in a similar job to what I do now. It’s not what I want to do for the next ten years but it sure as hell beats the old folks’ home! I already heard from one place that they’ll be needing a new OT for April 1 – that’s a distinct possibility time-wise.
Moving and starting a new job, despite the anxiety of it all, feels pretty exciting. I just really, really, really don’t want to leave my therapist. My group. All the things that are making me feel so much better. The things that I attribute to keeping me safe and healthy right now. Maybe I should give myself a bit more credit for it, but I don’t. Ugh. I do not want to tell B. on Thursday about the latest developments in this whole work saga. Some of my parts feel like it’s a failure on my part – like I’m quitting something by relocating. Other parts feel like leaving B. will feel devastating and grief-filled. Those ones feel young. They had really started to trust me and emerge a bit in the safety of therapy. And now I’m going to bury them once again? Am I ready to let them emerge on my own? Would therapy 2x/week until I leave help?
questions. sore throat and a lot of questions. chills. bedtime.
Lessons learned this week:
1 – If you “call out sick” from work because you’re an emotional wreck – it’s not truly a lie because physiological sickness is likely soon to follow. Burning sinuses, flushed cheeks, prickly eyes and subtle body aches through my neck and shoulders tell me that this body is fighting off some germs after being beat up mentally at the start of the week.
2- My “Self” (with a big ’s’) doesn’t just have to be an innocent bystander. It can calmly assert itself and ask other parts to tone things down a bit (“I know you’re feeling really hopeless right now but I need you to step back for a moment so that I can think clearly about my next step.”). It can negotiate with parts (“I know that you really feel like dissociating because you’re exhausted from this week, but if you can just step aside so that I can be present for group tonight, I will allow you to totally ‘check out’ all afternoon tomorrow.” – impeccable timing for the Netflix delivery of season 3 finale disk of Grey’s Anatomy for just this purpose). It can ultimately play the role of a compassionate parent – listening to each parts needs but also asserting some of its own for the benefit of the whole system.
3 – I miss lifting weights. I felt so strong and powerful Wednesday night after lifting a bit and then slept like a baby for 8+ hours. This is one gym activity that has never really had to do with my appearance as much as just feeling active and strong. Yes, please.
4 – I have no idea what to do about my job. Maybe that’s okay. The options around here are quite shockingly limited and I interviewed today at a skilled-nursing facility. Blech. I’ve been arguing with myself all day about it. Parts of me wanted to cry and run away just upon entering the building – warm and smelly, lines of wheelchairbound slumping elderly with food on their shirts, mumbling to themselves. I just don’t do well with old people like that – never have. Sure I like the 90 year old in the back pew at church but she’s, well, still functioning pretty well and coherent. She doesn’t make me sad and squirmy and in search for a sink to wash my hands. And most importantly, her bodily fluids are contained. I have parts that want to prove to myself that I can do this job as a sign of achievement and strength. But deep down I know I’d be miserable. I’ve done a 12 week clinical rotation in a comperable setting and hated every day of it. I never relaxed or got over the awkwardness of naked grown-ups who can’t remember how to put a shirt on. At least with kids it feels developmentally close-to-appropriate to poop in your pants or be naked or snot or drool. Maybe I am just a kid person afterall. I inquired about one other position at a hospital but it’s an hour away and probably wouldn’t allow me to get to my therapy appointments – the whole reason I’m not relocating out of VT right now. So maybe I’ll just stick it out where I am. It works for my therapy schedule. Who knows, maybe our financially dysmal little non-profit can hold on for 6 months until I’m ready to move??! Maybe that’s a wishful thinking part? hmmm.
5 – I have finally accepted my mom for who she is and what she can offer me in terms of support. On Tuesday night, I was devastated and panicky, overcome by the yuck bubbling up, overtaking all sense of self-control. I sobbed and heaved and thought my chest would implode. I hyperventilated and paced and clung to my Aunt Julie blanket and hoped I wouldn’t die from the sadness. And the whole time I had the phone nearby, ready to call mom to rescue me. But I waited – for longer than I ever have before. I tested the waters a bit – afterall, all this time, energy and money on therapy is supposed to be allowing those exiled parts and their feelings to unburden and be heard. So I let it go until it was unbearable and then called, knowing full well that my mom’s tone would be directive and cold. That she would attempt to talk sense into me and would quickly shift me into the intellectual and analytical mindest that protects me from the yuck. I didn’t call expecting warm and fuzzy or even empathy. Just a rescue.
6 – There are many, many websites, blogs and support groups for the adult children of parents with Narcissistic Personality Disorder. I thought my dad was so crazy and unique and hard to describe or understand. Turns out – he’s in a very special club of crazies who are astonishingly similar.
7 – Mentally rehearsing a plan of what to do if I come home to find my dad on my back porch makes me feel a little bit better.
8 – Sometimes my granddad knows just what to say, “[your mom] told us that your engagement is off. From here I can’t tell if that’s good news or bad news, but whatever its much, much better to break up before getting married. Finding the right mate is a very dicey deal and surviving a few “loves” is good experience!”
9 – Body dysmorphia seems to peak just before my period. My brain is having a field day checking body parts in the mirror, running my hands over them, trying on various pants to see how snug they are, pulling, pinching, squishing, etc. Hormonally exacerbated craziness.
Check, please!
The universe was listening today and gave me a sign. Morning individual therapy was spent exploring my parts’ feelings about making decisions in my life. Central to the conversation were my upcoming plans to relocate. I just don’t feel ready to leave therapy or group – they’re working…something is finally WORKING! But a part of me wishes I didn’t feel so dependent on therapy, that I didn’t feel so scared that I’ll fall apart without it, that I could see myself as more resilient than that. The biggest motivation to stay is therapy. The biggest reason to leave is that I’m tired of my job and relocation feels like the only “valid” excuse to leave my current position. But I generated some ideas of other options – take a different local job short-term until I feel like I’m ready to leave therapy and then relocate. I left my session feeling like it’s at least an option but feeling really sensitive to how that would “look” to my employer, co-workers and the parents of my clients and extreme anticipatory guilt about what it would do to the business for the only full-time therapist to leave.
Another part we worked with today was the one that is terrified of making my own decisions because I’m scared of choosing “wrong” or making uncorrectable mistakes (i.e. choose the wrong job, the wrong place to live, etc.). A firefighter part wants to jump in and make me attached to someone else in a relationship – so that the other person factored into the decision – someone else for my blaming parts to scold if I don’t make the best choice. Something to explain away my bad choice. So when and how did this part form that thinks there’s always a right answer and a wrong one? That there is some predetermined path in my life that if I don’t make the right guesses, I’ll stray from and be doomed to be miserable and stupid forever. I’m working towards realizing what my brother always says – “there is nothing you can do that cannot be undone in 5 years”. You can go from broke to having money, you can go from wealthy to broke, single to married, married to divorced, you can move, change careers, sell a house, make new friends – I guess he may have a point. But this black/white thinking part that thinks that decisions are either right or wrong – it’s just trying to protect me and keep me feeling safe and insulated.
I get to work and the first conversation I have is one in which our director informs us that she will not be taking her salary for the forseeable future because we cannot afford payroll. CHECK, PLEASE!! There’s my valid reason. I’ve said for a long time that the writing was on the wall with the financial situation of our clinic – but not making payroll is the END in my book. Me leaving doesn’t put a nail in the coffin – the coffin is already nailed shut, but nobody seems to want to face that fact. So the universe has sent its sign and I listened – I’m going to get in touch with two local places that I know are hiring. It would be the same type of work and setting as what I’d be doing when I travel – so it’s a good training experience. Not sitting around waiting to be laid off seems like a good enough reason for a decision to be made!
Group therapy was amazing tonight although yoga was shitty. My wrists are sore again – my right in particular. I went through 6 months of really bad right wrist pain beginning this same time last year – was in a cast, a brace, a splint, had an MRI with injected dye into my wrist joint – NOTHING uncovered the source of my pain or made it better. So, needless to say, I’m pretty frustrated that it appears to have returned.
I’ll talk more about group at a later date – pretty exhausted and have to get some rest before my big trip tomorrow. Uncertain as to the availability of private internet time – I’ll try to post if I can but if not, I’ll be back Monday night.
PS – If another job doesn’t materialize, I’ll sell all my wordly possessions except my dog and my banjo and we’ll hitchike around following the Avett Brothers…..mmm.
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.
anatomy of a purge
I admit: I’ve gotten swept up in the tidal wave that is New Year’s Resolutions and self-improvement. Unfortunately, I’m caught in the frothy surface of the swell and not the thrashing, bubbling well of momentum and overpowering change that is below. I’ve put down the cigarettes, taken up twice daily walks with the dog, aimed to drink more water, lifted weights, eat more fruit and basically anything else seemingly good for you that you can think of to set a really arbitrary quantitative goal around and track using spreadsheets or bar graphs. Or sparkpeople.com. Doh!
Sparkpeople may have just been the straw that broke this saucy young camel’s back – turning my recently domesticated pet of an eating disorder into fiery beast stamping and spitting aggression. It senses competition. The presence of a new step-sibling – “the good one” who gets to have all the fun. All the data entry and goal setting and internet searches for tips and motivation. It feels its remarkable skills in these areas are underappreciated. Someone else has been assigned the lead role in the school play – a role it was born and groomed to do. And so it decided to make a little stink about it.
And further fueling that stink yesterday was a work day filled with hours of nothingness. I chewed through my to-do list by 12 noon, hungry for more. But I floundered – couldn’t settle on anything that really sparked my attention. Well, that is unless you count internet searching, sparkpeople data entry, and google searches for health tips while chugging 24 ounces of water in under 15 minutes (peeing every 12 minutes doesn’t do much for the attention span either). Left without tasks, my mind becomes a bored bovine chewing its cud and instinctively swatting its tail. I ruminate. I obsess. I get stuck on something and it just resurfaces over and over and over. Just when I thought I’d broken free with a People magazine and some Chamomile tea I was pulled back in, scheduling work-out sessions and walks in my planner and adding new foods to “my favorites” on sparkpeople.
Which leads me to now – 4 in the morning – without even an eyelash that’s sleepy. Churning. Plotting. Angry at myself for the plotting. Trying to supervise the internal sibling rivalry which has exploded into toy-throwing and biting. It seems that if my parts can’t play nicely with sparkpeople.com, I’ll have to take it away like an exasperated mother. At least until they grow up a bit.
Friday in a nutshell
-up early
-half-day at the old place of employment
-nap
-shopping for pretty undies (gift cards are wonderful motivators to splurge on lacy things)
-dinner cooked & eaten (love those sweet potatoes)
-gym workout completed (“normal person” workout plus weights)
- bubble bath taken
-wine drunk
-nails painted
-Grey’s Anatomy DVD watched (vague recollection that I HAVE seen season 3 before)
-chapter in novel read (NYT bestselling “Special Topics in Calamity Physics” by Marisha Pessle)
All in all a good day. A bit lonely but kept myself meaningfully occupied with less ruminating and obsessing than in recent days. I did have one of my “kids” (by which I am referring to a 16 year old boy – 6′1″ and 200+ lbs. ) attempt to physically attack me twice. Cue the adrenaline and surges of want for a different job. I had “backup” and was safe (the same kid has successfully attacked me before so I knew the cues and activated my most effective plan for dealing with aggressions – RUN like hell. Attempt not to squeal – detracts from your professionalism).
Not much content here, apologies. Will undoubtedly delve deep into philiosophy, religion, psychoanalysis and psychic premonitions tomorrow.
Brrrrr.
Current temperature on my doorstep: 10 below (that’s farenheit, folks!). Yowza. It stings your eyes and burns your cheeks and contracts your lungs into an asthmatic wheeze. Puts a damper on my motivation to leave the house to do anything at all.
I’m coming to the point where I think I’m ready to take the ring off. It’s a vintage ring that’s been in my family for generations so I will keep it and eventually wear it on my right hand. But for awhile I think I need some space from it. I had been postponing it for several reasons: first and foremost my nosy coworker. She has no sense of what’s appropriate or inappropriate to ask or discuss and absolutely cannot receive subtle non-verbal cues that someone is uncomfortable or uninterested in sharing. This is her last week in the office so I kept the ring on so I didn’t have to go down that road with her. Secondly, I just wasn’t emotionally ready yet. It didn’t feel right to do it immediately for some reason. Such a symbolic act of the end of my relationship – almost deserving of a ceremony or a moment of silence. And finally, I just wasn’t ready for all the questions. I work with kids all day and their parents, no doubt, will at some point notice and ask. I still haven’t come up with my 20 second script of what to say:
“Plans have changed, but I know it’s for the best.” (optimistic answer)
“Life throws you curveballs and this is just one of them.” (philosophical answer)
“We had a very difficult fall and it came to a head over Christmas break.” (pretty honest answer)
“Yes, things have changed in my life but I’d rather not talk about it.” (boundary-setting answer)
Why is it that the boundary-setting one seems bitchy or rude. Like it would somehow make the other person feel awkward for commenting on the nakedness of my ring finger. And why should I value their feelings over mine? Let them feel awkward. It’s a pretty awkward thing to ask. Like if someone was going out on maternity leave and suddenly changed that plan. You might want to wait until they bring that up if you’re just a casual acquaintance. Obviously a very personal and likely heartbreaking change in their life has occurred. But unfortunately we read People magazine and US Weekly and feel an entitlement to know everyone else’s personal business. Come to think of it – those are the most boundary-breaking publications around. We shouldn’t know who’s sleeping with who, who entered rehab and who has cellulite on their bum. None of our god-forsaken business!
So I still have to decide how I feel comfortable responding to the inevitable inquiries.
In other news I shadowed the therapist at the hospital yesterday, which proved interesting but didn’t stir a deep desire to do what she does day in and day out. So that solidifies in my mind my decision to move in the future. There aren’t an abundance of jobs up here for me (despite that being the case seemingly everywhere else in the country). And did I mention it’s 10 below zero right now?! I think it’s a huge step for me to make such a huge life decision WITHOUT making it for a man or for school. I’ve moved all over – South Carolina (college), Boston (grad school), Atlanta (internship), North Carolina (internship), Virginia (boyfriend), Vermont (boyfriend). Bringing my own volition and independent will to a life decision is a huge symbolic step on my part. Progress. It also means not staying stuck in one place out of fear or discomfort with uncertainty. I want so badly to settle in one place – my family moved every 1-2 years growing up and I had the joy of living in 10 houses (all in the same town, though. I think I’ve said it before but…my dad is crazy! and this compulsive/impulsive apple didn’t fall far from the tree). But I’m not willing to let the anxiety and restlessness of moving and change and uncertainty pin me down in a spot that doesn’t feel right. Progress also, I think.
No therapy this morning. Feeling surprisingly okay about that. Knowing I have group tonight helps. Also gives me some downtime before my measly short day at work.
And then, nothing.
This evening, I got off work early. Eagerly cruising home in the beginnings of our next winter storm it hit me – what I was eager to get home to? No one’s home. Anxiety has set in. Lots of restlessness – contemplating what to do with the 4 hours before what would be considered an early bedtime. Feeling lonely despite 2 good conversations with friends. Feeling a little panicky at all the uncertainty I have to face without anyone for comfort except Sam the dog (who is the lucky recipient of lots of snuggles and very one-sided conversation this evening).
So many clients cancelled today due to weather that there was ample time for check check checking. And the real estate market provides endless fodder for my racing brain.
So how do I relax? I could meditate, sew, attempt to take Sam for an icy walk, go to the gym, straighten up the house, paint fingernails, read blogs. But somehow none of it feels right. The reality of the past week is settling in and the positive energy and empowerment is waning in the face of the stronger and very understandable emotions of sadness. loss. grief. lonliness. fear.
And now as I type, the tears well up. I think it’s time to roll out the yoga mat and tune in for a minute. Let this stuff rise up. No one’s here to judge. Oh the fear, though. I’m much more inclined to stay busy for as long as it takes until these feelings are sufficiently buried. But that’s not what I’ve been working so hard in therapy on. I need to let go. Allow. Breathe. Cry. Wallow, even, if that’s what my body and heart need. Even though the house feels empty, I’m sure there are enough emotions in me to fill it. And then some. So here goes nothing…
