Living As All of Me

[NarcKiddo]

This all could be CPTSD. Not knowing what's going on with your own body, misreading signals, lack of awareness, confusion, doing things that don't really make sense, mindlessly following instructions.

Oh, yeah. That's CPTSD. I'm having a discussion in a lung forum about when to take extra doses of an inhaler. I have been told to do so by the doctor if I need to. Well - I don't know what that means. The poor folks on the forum are all trying to help but most of them don't comprehend that I can be completely unsure whether I need help to breathe or not. Your bandages story does not surprise me in the least - except for the bit about the medics putting them on stupidly tight in the first place.

Frank sounds wonderful!

[HannahOne]

Wow NarcKiddo, thank you for sharing your experience! That really moved me, "I can be completely unsure whether I need help to breathe or not." I'm sorry you have this struggle too. And, I feel so validated   I am realizing the more time I spend on the forum how heavy the burden has been of feeling like an alien or an outlier. Very heavy. It's very well for a therapist to "get it," often after years of work but it's so much more powerful for other people to just get it, people here on the forum, for experiences that I think are rare and strange to actually be rather common and typical.

I'm willing to live the rest of my life feeling unsure if I need help to breathe or not but I would very much NOT like to live the rest of my life with the feeling of being, as you said, incomprehensible to others so often. I want to experience being comprehensible. Thank you for comprehending, for understanding and commenting.

[HannahOne]

Today I found myself in a familiar mode. Anxiously turning to distractions, from thing to thing, getting more and more agitated, starting to have frightened, hopeless thoughts for no apparent reason about how I am messed up, or a failure, or something is wrong with me....

I turned to face the feeling and it became clear that when I want connection, I get busy. I avoid it. I stop myself from getting up, greeting whatever family member is in the house or reaching out to a friend. I/m very responsive to my children's needs but they're older teens now and really dont' want me hovering. When it comes to my own needs I continually turn away from any desire or need in myself for other people.

The feeling itself is scary. It came to me that as a very young child, it wasn't safe or useful to try to connect. When I felt lonely as a toddler, I went to the dog or got out a book. When I felt a need to connect or be with another human as a kid, I got busy crafting, cleaning, building, making, studying. Plotting my escape, building my little survival raft out of toothpicks, always toward the future. Anywhere but here and now.

As an adult I no longer want to spend time avoiding myself, my feelings, my impulses to connect, my needs, or plotting a future that I have no interest or need in actualizing at this point. My life has become dissatisfying in many ways because of these habits of avoidance. It's led to a small, isolated life lived largely in my own mind.

It's also sad.

I realize the gap between what I say I want, which is friends, connections, a way to contribute to society, work (meaningful or not!), a life---and what I currently am doing, which is spending a lot of time staring at the wall, reading wikipedia, cleaning, administrating/fretting, is just a little hop skip over a metal vein of fear. I feel it like steel in my spine. It would show up on an x ray.

The fear is old. If I go to my mother, she may be impossible to wake, and that was so scary. If I go to my father, he may be unpredictable, horribly so. I may deeply regret being in the same room with him. So I taught myself to turn away from the impulse to look for a human being, and turn toward a task, something concrete, or toward information, something to occupy my mind, in order to avoid the disappointment, betrayal, or terror of connecting with unwell parents.

It was lonely but I didn't feel lonely, because I was busy doing Very Important Things. My sibling wasn't born till I was six. And once my sibling was mobile, was my responsibility. More task, more Very Important Things to Do, make sure there's food, diaper and change, smooth the hair, teach to count. Not connecting mode, although I did connect as best I could for the baby's benefit, knowing what SHOULD happen, peek-a-boo, "Oh, feeling sad!" "Ouch! hug?" Never connecting for my own needs, although caring for the sibling filled a need to feel Useful, Important, to have a Reason to Go On. It didn't fill my needs for mirroring, support, understanding, safety. I was terrified the entire time.

School was difficult socially, the kids were too loud, moving unpredictably, too close. I turned down my ears and kept my eyes down and focused on the schoolwork, or daydreams.

After leaving home I did pursue relationships, but more for survival than connection. I needed surrogate parents to help me navigate the adult world. Peer relationships were generally few and felt tenuous. I did connect with some people, but never trusted myself and consistently resisted my own impulse to reach out, was very self-conscious, deliberate, careful, restrained. People described me in ways that didn't resonate. Independent, strong, wise, when I felt scared, fragile, and clueless. Vulnerable. I wasn't able to show or share more parts of me, so it always felt tenuous and hollow.

The first step is to start noticing this anxiety, this feeling of restlessness, tension in my face, teariness like a sore throat feeling, feeling like screaming. And instead of avoiding it, consider allowing myself to follow the impulse to reach out, not in desperation or demand for support but just the human need to say hello, catch up with a friend, share a chore, chat about the weather, dissect a reality tv show or gossip about the neighbor's BBQ. I fear this impulse as if it were a yawning threat to other people, as if it's somehow wrong. But it's just a social impulse. Hello! What's up? Want a snack? Help me fold? What about that sister wife? Did John mow his lawn at 6 am on Saturday again?

It feels like trying to turn a cargo ship, very slow, not sure I can do it. I hope just the practice of not turning away from or inverting my own impulses for connection will be healing for my inner children, even if I don't end up connecting. I can connect with myself by not turning away from my self. I can tolerate the feelings of fear and emotional flashbacks of betrayal, disappointment, attachment loss, and alienation that come up immediately when I feel this impulse to reach out, in order to feel the feelings of warmth, wanting, connection, solidarity with other humans. Or with myself.

And if it goes badly with the humans, I don't have conclude that it's too unsafe to feel. I still have my dog, snoozing on the bed, and the rabbit, chewing his hay with a wide unblinking eye.

[Chart]

 

[HannahOne]

Well, today I tried for social connection. After agonizing over the invite, I went to lunch with an old friend from my former religion. My goal was to try to "be myself," and observe myself if that wasn't happening to try to figure out why.

If you have religious trauma, TW, probably don't read this post. Be well.

My friend is one I knew from the religion I have left. She doesn't quite know how far I've left. I haven't attended the church in three years. But I haven't told her I no longer believe in God. So how was I going to navigate this, as "the real me"? As "All of Me"?

It started with the clothes. What am I gonna wear to this thing? Our religion didn't allow women to wear pants. Was I gonna put on a long skirt? Little bit of a flashback looking at my old long skirts, I've tossed most of them. How about the long skirt I wore to my daughter's violin recital? Too much tulle, not modest to draw attention like that. How about the long satin skirt I got this Christmas? Too clingy, not modest enough. I decided to wear a long loose navy blue paisley thing, so modest, so unfashionable! but skipped the requisite virginal ballet flats and put on pointy toed boots with it. Maybe, unconsciously, so I could kick any wayward priest in the behind if needed. Added a "lady jacket" with it, a la Chanel, very mindful, very demure. But underneath the lady jacket, black lace. Haha. And a bracelet from my childhood, to remind me where I came from. I've come a long way, baby!

Thus attired, I proceeded to step right into it and upon greeting her I said "Oh my God I love your coat!" And of course in our religion we would never say "Oh my God." That is a sin. Oh God. Why did I say "Oh my God?" Poop! Dang! ARGH!

From then on I was beginning to dissociate. I had planned out what to order, because it's a fasting time, so I would need to eat vegan. With each concession, the skirt, the fasting food, the self-censoring of my speech, I disintegrated more. Smiling, nodding. She talked pretty much nonstop. Wild things I can't believe I ever entertained, about monks knowing her future, moving across the world to become a nun after she's widowed, superstitions about viruses, complaints about the decadent West (And she's a born and bred American just like me).... No judgement---well, ok, some judgement, but I respect her beliefs--I respect her right to have them. It was just incredibly alienating to try to wedge myself into them. And I felt I had no other choice. That's the part of me I need to work with. How could I give myself the choice next time? We don't even share common context, she doesn't read pop books, or watch TV, or listen to music except religious music.... there was nothing I could say that would make sense in her world. Jane Eyre, I could talk about Jane Eyre... but I never read Jane Erye... I'm reading a book about a Korean woman who lost her mother to cancer. But my friend wouldn't read a book by anyone who wasn't the religion. What to talk about, drawing a blank, another blank....

I spent the rest of the meal somewhere above my head. She gifted me a prayerbook and a beautiful icon. I still paint icons, but am conflicted about it. I don't know if I'll continue. This one was painted on a piece of petrified wood. Lovely. And yet.

Upon leaving she wants to meet up again. I don't think it's good for me. It's too triggering. I am disappointed that I couldn't stay more authentic to who I really am now, that I couldn't update her as to where I am. But like my parents, there's no room in her world for someone like me. It would cause her distress to know my real thoughts. She would be baffled or irritated or unsettled. And I don't want to baffle, irritate, or upset. I guess, if I'm honest, I didn't want to deal with her feelings about who I am. Am I being unfair, am I assuming? I don't think so in this case, she's such a true believer it's her whole identity. But at the end, it's me, I don't want to embody my identity if anyone is going to have a feeling about it.

I think I joined this religion in part to make it my whole identity, because I hated my identity. It was a repetition, I repeated my own trauma to myself. I was raised in a brutal, insane form of Christianity, complete with speaking in tongues, laying on of many, many heavy hands, exorcisms (oh yes, even of sad nine year old girls), and so. many. rules. Superstitions. Devils around every corner. Satan in my lunchbox. 88 reasons why the rapture must come in 1988. As a child being abused every which way, purity culture was agony nd the exorcisms never stopped the abuse, no matter how many hands, how many tongues or how much I prayed. So much trauma. I left at 18 and never went back.

In midlife I fell into icon painting, and from there the religion. At first there were no triggers, all the chanting a different language, the service the opposite of chaos, everything written down and planned. But eventually the rules got to me, so many rules, and I was never doing it quite right. I realized I wouldn't raise my kids in it. So much superstition. The skirts, annoying. Can't keep track of fasting days. Confess, try again, fail. Confess, try again....fail. Lost my faith. Left.

And now what. I want to be social. I want to have friends. I'd like to be part of a community the believes in something good. But not at the cost of all of me, the me who wanted God, the me who doesn't. The me who thinks the Mother of God is a beautiful idea and the me who thinks the idea is absurd on its face. The me who liked wearing long skirts that make me the shape of a bell with little ballerina flat feet, and the me who wants to wear camo pants and high tops. The me who was abused and the me who grew up and left. The me who had no choice and the me who does....

I don't know how to bring all of this together, or how to begin to communicate it with another person. Today was certainly quite an epic fail. But maybe I just need a person who is not so locked down herself. My poor friend. May she find happiness, safety, peace, joy. And my God, her coat! May she wear it with just a little bit of pride. No one has to know! Although she'd have to confess it....

Tomorrow, I will put on cropped jeans, tall boots, a striped button down and a big fuzzy sweater and I'll stomp around the doctors office, slump over to the cafe. We'll see how that feels, and who I might make eye contact with and meet, what context we might share, and who they will say that I am.

[Chart]

Maybe, unconsciously, so I could kick any wayward priest in the behind if needed.

It depends on the priest of course, but there's a much more appropriate place to kick them (imo :-)

I don't know how to bring all of this together, or how to begin to communicate it with another person. Today was certainly quite an epic fail. But maybe I just need a person who is not so locked down herself. My poor friend. May she find happiness, safety, peace, joy.

I disagree that this was a "fail". To the contrary. Or maybe your objectives were different than what I understood. What a fantastic experiment you did. Everyone changes. Some a lot, others less. But change is fluid, and process isn't "on-off". We "transition" into new things. It's a learning process, like getting a doctorate. As we evolve, how great to pause and look back over our shoulder. There's nothing wrong with having one foot on each side of the river (so long as you're flexible :-)

Ultimately I believe this: it is "okay" for me to be 100% who I am at any given moment in time. So long as I am being "healthy with others", who I am and how/what/why... is okay. Anyway, the present moment will change and I have the future before me again. To change or not to change... interesting and beautiful either way.

I came up with a concept years ago. I've since heard the same thing in other forms, but I love this idea and fall back on it very frequently: 100% of Judgements are false. That is to say, "judgements" are opinions influenced entirely by beliefs and feelings. A judgment, viewed from another perspective or a different context easily becomes the reverse. I'll leave off a bit, but this idea gives me freedom. I can have my opinions AND see my "flaws" in those same ideas but still understand that that "judgment" is part of my "composed self" at that particular moment (now or whenever) and I can continue or change as I sense/feel in that experience I'm currently having called "life". I become "god" but a god who is only another part of a deeper greater truth.

Sorry, kinda rambled there... :-)

And I gotta say (admittedly a judgment on my part) I've run across a few Evangelicals... happy to hear you saw through it and got out. Huge win imo. Gotta love yourself for that.
 

[NarcKiddo]

I also disagree this was a fail. I think you undertook a difficult task and are doing very good work in analysing how it went and how you feel about it (during and after). Maybe you'll feel like meeting the friend again one day, even if any meeting ends up having to be superficial so that neither of you gets too dysregulated. Maybe you won't. It's fine either way, I think.

 

[SenseOrgan]

Will respond later... Something popped up in my mind. Terence McKenna. Consistency is the hobgoblin of small minds... Looks like he referenced Ralph Waldo Emerson.

"A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little statesmen and philosophers and divines. With consistency a great soul has simply nothing to do. He may as well concern himself with his shadow on the wall. Speak what you think now in hard words, and to-morrow speak what to-morrow thinks in hard words again, though it contradict every thing you said to-day. — 'Ah, so you shall be sure to be misunderstood.' — Is it so bad, then, to be misunderstood? Pythagoras was misunderstood, and Socrates, and Jesus, and Luther, and Copernicus, and Galileo, and Newton, and every pure and wise spirit that ever took flesh. To be great is to be misunderstood."
― Ralph Waldo Emerson, Self-Reliance: An Excerpt from Collected Essays, First Series