Living As All of Me

[HannahOne]

SanMagic7 I can't grow even weeds. Thanks for the support!

PapaCoco, your experience is very interesting. I had not thought of it like this: "But when we cried out for help and our caregivers either ignored us or hurt us, then the natural flow of energy to our survival mechanisms were pinched off." That's it, a flow of energy is blocked.

With the horse it was all about getting them moving, trotting, so the energy could move, even though moving often led to exploding at the end of the rope, bucking kicking galloping. After a time, the trot would become more rhythmic, the head would drop, shake the neck, snort.

I am trying to move more, physically move. And also move through the world, try on outfits, try things out, try talking, try writing, try cooking new things. Trying to get the energy moving after about five years of not moving, hunkering down, freeze. Trying to help that flow of energy complete the circuit.

[HannahOne]

Talking to my therapist about making a morning routine.

I get up. Get the kids breakfast, pack their lunch, get the dogs breakfast, the rabbit breakfast. Walk the dogs.

What about your breakfast? What would you like to eat? the therapist asks.

Oatmeal, eggs, I say.

And what to drink?

Water, I say.

Water, ok, she says, and coffee?

I don't drink coffee, I say, the last thing I need is more anxiety.

Ok she says, juice?

I don't drink juice.

How about tea? she says. Tea is nice in the morning, nice and warm.

Ok, ok, I say, I'll have tea.
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I start to laugh. I'll have tea? I laugh hysterically until I cry. At the least pressure, even in complete safety, I cannot not give in. Sure, I'll have tea. Bring on the tea.

*******

I hate conflict. I don't want to argue. How many times have I said that to her? I hate conflict. I don't want to argue.

We have a big snow where I live. It's rare. It's beautiful. It's triggering. My kids want me to come out with them in the snow. "Nope! Mom doesn't like snow." I watch from the window briefly. When I was a kid, building a snowman would often devolve into a snowfight. It ended with me red faced, face down in the snow, mouth full of snow, his hand on the back of my head. For too long. He always had to win. The winner takes it all.

One day we walked miles in the snow to skate, because driving was impossible, and because it would be fun. Huge flakes coming down, my snow pants creaking against themselves, trying to walk in his steps as the snow was past my knees. I was exhausted and freezing, but terrified to keep up. He couldn't carry me, he had his hands full. We got to a small pond. I collapsed into the snow to rest. The tree branches were heavy with snow, bending down to touch the surface of the frozen water, also covered with a foot of snow. He began to shovel the snow off the pond. He never tired.

It was silent. It seemed we were the only two people in the world. Time slowed down. Big flakes falling. Would it ever stop snowing? Would the world ever reappear? If I screamed, would anyone hear? What if the pond wasn't fully frozen? If he fell in, what would I do? It would take me an hour to "run" home in snow past my knees. He made his way to the middle of the pond. "Please don't!" I screamed. "Are you crazy?" he yelled. "It'll be fun!"

After a time a clearing was made and he took off his boots and put on skates. He seemed like a god, hands behind his back and gliding along on the reflection of the slate gray sky. He called me out to the middle of the pond. My stomach sank. I didn't want to argue.

If I died, I died. There was no alternative but to go. I had only my boots, and slipped and skittered to him. Would I fall through? Was it solid? I couldn't trust him to know, couldn't trust my own feet. I grabbed onto his mittened hands and he pulled me along, skating backwards. Thrilling, terrifying, surreal. Everything with him was thrilling, terrifying, surreal.  Always the manic high, and the stomach sinking feeling.

I question myself. There are different perspectives. He was unaware of how scared I was on the ice, or just knew better? Wanted me to be brave, tough. He thinks he is generous and kind. He could've been watching TV instead of taking me out in the snow. And I didn't fall in, did I? Did I? No I did not. He would never put me in danger. Would he? The ice was solid, if it held him, it would hold me.

It's a no-win situation.

I'm ungrateful. Hysterical. Shame to keep me small and quiet, to make sure I don't argue, to keep my words stuffed into my throat, melting away like snow.

***

Ok, ok, I'll have tea.

My acquiescence kept me small. Shame and fawning allowed me to survive many storms. Fighting only led to being held down longer. Refusing only led to being dragged. He was going to take me out on the ice whether I was tired or not, had skates on or not, and he was going to spin me around until I was dizzy whether I cried or not. I know this.

Because I wasn't an adult who could speak up, negotiate, or refuse. Or scream.

Because he thought it was fun, fine, that I was tough, brave, that he was kind, good.

Yet I excoriate myself. I hate myself. I hate that I'll agree to drink tea because my kindly therapist wants me to have something more than just plain water, wants me to think about what I want, wants me to want it and take it. Wants me to win, win the morning at least. Wants to win me back to real life where things are solid under my feet and I know it, where I'm not walking on ice cold water, where I can walk across the kitchen floor and know it's not going to give way, can take my time to make tea instead of grabbing water and running back to bed. Wants me to know I'm somewhere that someone will hear me if I scream. That screaming could be brave, too.

[Chart]

HannahOne, you remind me just how hard this stuff is. Damned if you do-stuff... I don't believe in screaming by orders from higher-up. But the higher-ups aren't always wrong. Annoying that.

[NarcKiddo]

The ice was solid, if it held him, it would hold me.

Sure. But would it hold the both of you? Your concerns were always valid.

I hear you about your kindly therapist. My husband is like this. He tries to make things better for me, making all manner of assumptions along the way. Quite reasonable assumptions that don't apply to me because - why? I am not a reasonable person? I don't know the answer, but I'd have said "yes" to the tea, too. I'd probably have cracked at juice, to be honest.

[SenseOrgan]

I'm not sure if I'm interpreting your entry correctly. Please ignore if I'm missing the mark. And perhaps I'm too direct, so a bit of a TW there. Reading your words, I was taken back to an experience in which there was no bs'ing myself possible. What I saw clearly, is that deep down, I don't want to be alive. Because this existence is so painful. It that it? Does your therapist skip over this by insisting on you reaching certain goals? Does your therapist allow you to have these feelings? Does (s)he make space for that to be real and validated in connection?

Generally, people seem to flip out on me drinking water. Hot water in particular. Except for tea in the morning, it's about all I drink. Because I like it. My therapist found it a little odd too when I started with it. He didn't push me like yours did though. There were just the facial expressions and perhaps a few remarks indicating it's a little odd to him. After a while, he started asking me if I'd like some hot water. It didn't feel like therapy for me, but these things can be. 

[sanmagic7]

hannah1, i don't understand why water isn't good enough!  i drink water for breakfast most days, don't have an appetite for anything else till later in the day.  but water is so important for our bodies, our systems, so i don't understand the push to drink something else.  maybe it's me.

i heard about a friend who wrote 'NO' on a card when they went to see their T.  they couldn't get the word out of their mouth, but at the beginning of the session, they told their T they would hold that word up because they had trouble saying it.  i thought it was some good problem-solving. 

you'll get there, keep talking about it - maybe you can talk to your T about it in your next session?  therapists are not god figures, not parental figures - they're meant to be guides to help you get from where you are to where you want to be.  encouraging, but not necessarily pushy.  i just feel bad you went thru this w/ your T.  love and hugs

[TheBigBlue]

I'd have said "yes" to the tea, too. I'd probably have cracked at juice, to be honest.

    me too.