Saturday, September 27, 2008

Ooowwwww

Whining Alert: stop reading now if you don't want to listen to me complain and whine for no apparent reason whatsoever...

I have a headache. No - that's an understatement. I have a hell-ache. It started as a tension headache. It woke me up about 4:07 this morning. I ignored it and tried to go back to sleep.

When I got up at 7:30 to wake Kid-2 up for bowling, it was both a tension headache AND a migraine. The left side of my head throbbed viciously - that damned dwarf with the hammer was banging on my head. And the tension headache at the base of my skull ached so loudly that I couldn't hear myself think. So I took my new migraine med, Treximet, and a muscle relaxer, Flexeril, and went back to bed.

By 9:00 I was convinced I was going to die and wholeheartedly wished I would, just to make the pain stop. I tried to wake up Hubby but he was totally gone asleep. So I lay there and willed myself to die.

By 10:30, I realized this was not going to go away. So I got up again, looking for an ice-pack for my forehead and a heating pad for my head/neck. Couldn't find a heating pad, though I found a suitable ice-pack. I heated up my rice sock hot enough that I couldn't hold it, took more Treximet and some ibuprofen, fought with the kids a bit and went back to bed.

About 11:30, Hubby got up. He checked on me and I refused to get up. I asked him to find the heating pad and he couldn't either. Much later, he came to check on me again. Ever the sweetheart, he agreed to go to the store for me (which I had intended to do today) to grab milk, juice and pop - and he brought me back a heating pad.

I went back to bed, still wishing I could cut off my head, but armed with the heating pad and a fresh round of ibuprofen. Come 7 o'clock, I decided I'd best get up and make an appearance.

So here I am, up and downstairs. I made nice-nice with everyone, ate a little and, while my head felt a little better when I got up, it doesn't now. So I'm going back to bed. I would scream and cry and throw a temper-tantrum that I hurt and I'm tired and cranky and have a bad attitude. I would, except that would make my head hurt worse.

Okay, rant over. Good night!

Friday, September 26, 2008

Magic Pills and Extra Effort

I haven't been around much in my niche of the blogging world. I haven't posted as often as usual and while I've been keeping up on 2 or 3 of my favorite blogs, I haven't been commenting like I normally do. This is not a reflection of the blogs I read or the people who write them. It is strictly a function of time and energy.

I think Lexapro might be my 'magic pill' because when I compare my activity levels prior to starting it with this past week, there is a staggering difference. In the past 10 days, I have cooked dinner 4 times, eaten as a family more often than not, programmed a database, made it to almost all of the kids' activities, only snipped once at Baby-Mommy, and made some good parenting decisions.

Since I started doing these things, I have been completely exhausted most of the time. At any given point I can lay down and fall asleep within 10 minutes. (I still can't stay asleep, though. Grrrr) But on the other hand, I have actually been doing these things, despite being so tired. Always before, I haven't had enough energy to do the stuff, with or without being exhausted.

The Shrink asked me if it felt good to take a proactive approach rather than my standard passive control style. I told him that it kinda did and kinda didn't. I was on my way out the door so I didn't elaborate. It feels good to be doing things that are good for the kids and things that make Hubby happy. It feels good when the kids list that they like dinner and eating together on their list of good things about their day. I felt good when Hubby used the database for the scout meeting.

I really like being able to help people. I always feel like I can't quite help enough, do enough, or be enough. I feel the need to justify my existence. At the core, I don't feel I do enough to be worth the oxygen I consume. So doing things to help or make people happy feels good, if insufficient.

On the other hand, I have extremely mixed feelings when people notice what I've done and label it "good". I feel so embarrassed at the attention, even when that attention is praise. I don't generally believe the praise either - I think in large part people will give praise even when they don't mean it, especially if they want to acknowledge effort and/or if they think the person would feel hurt by anything less than glowing praise. And yet parts of me do listen to the praise, do believe it, and feel warm and tingly to hear it.

People's actions tell me more about how they actually feel than their words do. Hubby was telling all sorts of people about the database at scouts. If it was crap, I don't think he'd have bragged about it. He even told the one guy that he would offer it up at next year's district planning meeting for popcorn sales. He certainly wouldn't do that if it wasn't good. Likewise, if everyone says dinner is great - but they don't eat it... yeah, I can read between those lines. So when what people do indicates approval, I get embarrassed and want to hide - but I'm smiling to myself.

Back to The Shrink's question... I do feel good about the things I've been doing. And I feel embarrassed that people are noticing. I feel exhausted by all the extra effort I've been putting in and that is discouraging and frustrating. I am worried that I won't be able to keep it up. How long can I run myself dry before there is nothing left to give? I feel proud because I've proved to myself that I've been correct when I've been hiding behind incompetence but secretly believing I could do it if I tried. I feel guilty that I haven't been doing it all along. I feel awkward because I don't like being in a dominant role - I much prefer being backup, the one who works behind the scenes to make other people look good and sees proficiency as measurable by those other people's success.

So, overall, I think I am heading in the right direction. I'm a little worried that I am going to fast and likely to hit a wall if I'm not careful, but I guess I'll cross that bridge - or... uh, erm... wall - when I get there. Or whatever other mixed metaphors I can think to throw together haphazardly.

Friday, September 19, 2008

I Will Not Live in Fear

I wish you never told me
I wish I never knew
I wake up screaming
It’s all because of you
(Scared by Three Days Grace)


The Shrink is taking every opportunity to both state and imply that Hubby cannot be trusted alone with Baby-Mommy. He is harping on this to such an extreme as to change a totally different subject back to this. I cannot think about either of them without a white-hot stone weighing heavy in my stomach. I'm terrified of the possibility that The Shrink seems so certain of.

My heart, my head, and my instincts tell me that this is not a threat. I truly don't think Baby-Mommy would do that and I would sincerely like to believe that Hubby wouldn't repeat that mistake. The Shrink thinks their past histories separately make them vulnerable jointly. I'm not sure if I'm being naive, practicing wishful thinking, or if I have better insight into these two than The Shrink does. I just don't think it is the threat he is making it out to be. I swear it feels like he is the one catastrophizing and I am the one trying to stay more balanced and objective. Could there be some counter-transference going on here?

Then I realized something tonight as I was wishing I could go to bed and refusing to go because they are both still up. If Hubby is going to cheat on me, he will find a way whether I stay up or not. He is about to leave for 6 weeks during which he will be able to do anything he pleases. If something is going to happen, it is going to happen. My worrying about it non-stop is not going to change anything. My chaperoning them at all times may keep the two of them apart but it won't change the underlying issue.

I wish The Shrink had never told me. I wish I never knew it could be a possibility at all. I wake up screaming in my head from nightmares about them getting involved behind my back. And it's all because The Shrink thinks they would betray me like that.

But I don't want to live in fear. What I want is to go to bed. They both are still up. So it comes down to a choice... stay up and chaperone or have faith and go to bed. I fully intended to choose the latter, say screw it, and go to bed. But now that it comes down to it, and only the three of us are up... I can't do it.

I don't want to live this way. I don't want to exist in a state of perpetual suspicion and fear. I want to trust them. But The Shrink is so sure and, as he pointed out, he is almost never wrong about the big things in my life. When he weighs in, he is generally spot on.

So up I stay...

Vision for a Peaceful Future

I have been seeing The Shrink for well over two and a half years. Sporadically throughout this time, he assigns 'homework' for me to work on during the week. In all that time, only once have I ever not done one of these assignments. It was very early on, probably within the first couple of months. The assignment was to come up with 'a vision for a peaceful future'. I didn't do it because I had no idea what a peaceful future would look like.

I recently found that paper with the assignment on it. I've come a very long way since then. But I still can't come up with a vision. I've been trying, I really have. But I have no idea. I don't know where I want to go. I've been living minute to minute, day to day, from one scheduled event to the next. Trying to imagine even ten years from now? I can't do it. What do I want to be when I grow up? No clue.

The Shrink, trying to help me walk through this, asked me what I want for my kids. The simple answer to that is that I want them to become happy, productive members of society. I don't have specific plans for them, like pigeon-holing them into jobs or whatever. I have general idea of a path that I think would get them there. I want them to go to college, meet a partner there, graduate college, get a job they enjoy, get married and have kids. But I am not so invested in that path that I would be disappointed in an alternative.

He then asked me where I would be in this scenario. And I blanked. I couldn't see myself there at all. So I backed up to see what I could imagine. I can see Kid-1 in high school. (of course that's only 2 years away.) I can see Kid-2 in high school. I can see Kid-3 in high school. But I can't see Kid-4 in high school. I can get my mental picture forward about 6 years, but not past it. Kid-1 in tech school. Kid-2 as a senior in high school. Kid-3 as a sophomore. Kid-4 in middle school. I can see that. But when I reach my mind out any further, there is nothing there.

When I first learned to mow the grass, I used to mow in anything but a straight line. I would watch the grass right in front of it so closely but I still mowed like a drunk in a snowstorm. My aunt taught me 'the secret' to mowing straight. She told me to keep half an eye on what's directly in front of me, but to pick a point way ahead of me to watch and walk towards it. It worked; I can now mow in a straight line.

I'm wondering if this is a metaphor for goal setting in life. We have to watch what's right in front us but in order to keep from wandering zig-zags, we need to keep an eye further on up the road. But I don't have a long-term goal. I have absolutely no idea. I don't even know how to go about finding a long range goal. The closest thing I have is to getting the kids raised and self-sufficient. That's the only thing keeping me alive but it is indeed keeping me alive so I'm going to hold on to it. I don't know where to find a long-term goal, or how to begin looking for and/or creating one.

It doesn't matter where you are, it doesn't matter where you go
If it's a million miles aways or just a mile up the road... (Who Says You Can't Go Home by Bon Jovi)

Monday, September 15, 2008

I Moved My Own Cheese

I don't care for change. In fact, I dread and resist it, loudly. BUT... I do like new toys. And I have new toys to play with!!

First I got BOB for my birthday. BOB is a Nokia Internet Tablet N810. BOB rocks the world! He is a wireless eBook reader, a web browser, a GPS navigator, an audio and video player, a text editor, and lotsa other stuffs. I have been exploring his capabilities and downloading applications and books to run on him. I am downloading classics onto him since a lot of them can be obtained free. Currently I am reading The Picture of Dorian Gray. I started reading it once before but got bored. This time around I am enjoying it more. I also have Wuthering Heights ready to read. I have decided that the game "Marbles" is evil incarnate as even on the 'easy' level it took me half an hour to complete one set. Grrr. One app I downloaded is a YouTube viewer. It downloads the video and then plays it back on BOB. Trying to watch anything directly from BOB through his browser to YouTube doesn't work. BOB is built for size, not for internet speed. At any rate, anyone looking for a cool electronics gadget (that has money to burn... like I said, BOB was a gift) I strongly recommend the Nokia N810.

My other new toy is MAC. MAC is my new laptop. (MAC is not a mac, MAC is Sony Vaio.) My old laptop fell off a table while I was trying to load a DVD and broke the drive and scrambled its insides. But it was under warranty so I went and got MAC. MAC is awesome, faster and bigger capacity than my old one while still being lighter weight. We are still getting to know each other. He does things differently in some places and I am learning some of those while trying to convince him to try my ways on other things. But I am having difficulties getting my backup of my old laptop to restore files onto MAC. And if I've lost all of that stuff, I am going to be beyond devastated. All my music, my stories, my writing resources, countless irreplaceable pictures, and a whole lot more. Another thing I am missing is my bookmarks. But I shall keep trying. You shall not prevail, Foul Troll! (Enchanted)

Next on the new things list is a new web browser. I am giving Google's new browser, Chrome, a shot. IE kept crashing on me. Firefox wouldn't do some things I wanted to do so I am giving Chrome a try. So far so good, though I am having issues with bookmarks.

Another big change... on Friday we moved the boys' bedrooms. Well, the bedrooms stayed but the stuff in them changed. We managed to get the Little Boys' room completely clean. It is a shock and an accomplishment. We then managed to get Kid-1's room clean which, while not as difficult, was frustrating because he wouldn't help. But we didn't have time to mess with ultimatum's and behavior modification. So Hubby and I did it. We bought new bunkbeds on the 8th and got those set up in the boys' room. They looked good. Then we moved Kid-1's bed, a short loft, into the boys' room. Now it looks awesome as it looks like a three tiered bunk bed system. The woods match almost perfectly, the styles are the same and the loft is lower than the top bunk but about a foot and a half. Shuffled around the dressers and such and poof! One empty bedroom, and one clean, cool-looking 'Boy Zone' (as Kid-3 has declared it). We went ahead and set some new rooms rules. (I figured we were already changing things so much that it would be easier to incorporate a few more changes in with the big ones rather than waiting until they finally get settled and then dump more changes on them. It's nothing too too too huge. Everyone sleeps in their own bed. Their room is now part of Sunday Family Cleaning Day and that includes changing the sheets and bringing down all of the laundry. Didn't get any arguments about it so it must not be that big of a deal.

And last but not least, the biggest change of all and a semi-new toy... Baby and Baby-Mommy have successfully moved in. We moved them in Saturday. Poor Baby-Mommy was down for the count with a stomach bug while we were trying to move her - she was miserable. Saturday night, Baby didn't sleep for crap. New place, new sounds, lots of change, all the normal stuff. She slept better last night. I have to say that I am surprised at how well things are going so far. Baby-Mommy and Hubby have not butted heads at all yet. Baby-Mommy hasn't simply dropped in and assumed I would take over stuff with Baby but she still lets me be part of it so it's not to either extreme. Both Baby-Mommy and Hubby are making visible efforts to keep things okay between them - not just forcing themselves to refrain from killing each other, but actually feel civil. This is good. Of course, now I can't get what The Shrink said out of my head and that is causing me some grief but you can't win them all.

So my cheese has moved quite a bit. (If you haven't read the book "Who Moved My Cheese" - go read it! It is not corporate psychobabble pop-psychology BS as I assumed it was. It is very appropriate for corporate America but it is totally appropriate for anything.) But like a good little mouse, I kept my head up and was ready for the changes as they came. More are coming, that's for sure. But I'm rolling with them and watching for them and working to make sure what we get is the best possible outcome.

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

Progress is as Progress Does

My appointment with The Shrink this morning was alright. By alright I mean that nothing went spectacularly wrong but I didn't come away with any startling revelations, deep insights, or pearls of wisdom. He was half an hour late today, which is late even by his standards. (His assistant is out this week. She keeps him organized and without her, he got the time wrong for his first appointment today. Arriving early to do some paperwork, he found himself already late.)

On the other hand, I didn't mind a bit. For I was playing with a new toy while I waited. I call it BOB. BOB is an internet tablet. And it is TOTALLY AWESOME!!! It is an eBook reader, a web browser, a GPS navigator, an audio/video player, a image display and lots of other stuff too. BOB is cool. BOB got his name because he is my new ThingamaBOB and he is the Banisher Of Boredom. I just got BOB for my birthday and was playing around with its features and reading the beginning of a truly awful book on it. (It was the only one I had gotten downloaded onto it at that point.) So the wait didn't bother me at all.

So once we did get started, we ended up flipping back through my (rather large) chart. We realized I have been seeing him weekly for over 2 1/2 years. He read the initial treatment we created and we compared it to where we are at now. Not surprisingly, most of the things on it are still things we work on today. Dissociation, suicidal ideation, self-harm, self-worth, anxiety, motivation, thought patterns, etc. The treatment plan, of course, had the nice measurable goals. The Shrink is fond of his nice little 0 - 5 scale. (I hate it and want to rank things 3.141592653589793238462643383279502884197169399375103 just to screw with him but I don't.)

As far as where I am at now compared with where I was then - wow things have improved. I can clearly remember sitting in his office, rocking back and forth, shaking like a leaf and trying to figure out how to move oxygen in and out of my body while I waited to see him that first time. The constant panic attacks, time loss, hallucinations, confusion... I was one week out of the hospital and didn't want to be there, didn't want to be anywhere except asleep in my bed.

But as far as where I am now compared to where we set those original goals... meh, not so good. No dissociation. Better than before as it mostly intentional when it happens now. No panic attacks. Well, down to very few of them that others can see. Overall anxiety at or less than 1. I spend most of the time, most days around a 2, with significant increases when those people are upset. During busy times of the day (that is from 2:45 until 7:30 or 8:30, depending on the day) I perch on the edge of a 4, my nerves raw, temper short and biting back the panic more or less successfully. Ironically I even have anxiety over my anxiety. Suicidal ideation less than 1, which he says means the thought pops up every once in a great while but is dismissed without consideration. Uh... yeah - or not. Those are still very active, though less imminent than earlier this spring and than other periods of my life. But, at this moment, I give it a 4. No Self-harm. I'm doing much better on that. I fight off the urges but I am fighting them off. I don't remember what other criteria there was, to be honest. Just that the numbers are getting better but we aren't done yet, not by a blue mile.

The thing that gets me about all the progress that I've made is that not only is there so far yet to go, I seem to slip backwards on a regular basis. Sometimes it's just a minor setback. Other times it's a pretty big flop. I know it's a learning process and therefore susceptible to the whole two steps forward, one step back. It's just that it so often feels like two steps back for every step ahead. I feel like any change is coming at either a snail's pace or with great pain and quite often both.

Now, I understand fully that this how lasting change happens - you work hard, often painfully, change is slow but when it comes it is more likely to stay. That doesn't make it much easier to live through. And because it is a well-known fact that it just works that way, I cannot talk to anyone about it. Because the very best I can expect is a pep talk. Generally these come in one of two flavors: the 'but you're making so much progress i can see it why can't you' or the 'change is always like this but it will be worth it in the end' and frankly those aren't helpful right now. They feel dismissive of how I feel. And how I feel is tired and discouraged.

The Shrink and my Guardian Angel both keep trying to tell me that feelings aren't good or bad and they even try to tell me that I can't control my feelings, only my reactions to them. But if this is true, why do people refuse to hear that I already know this is normal but I am frustrated by it?

I'm guessing it our own discomfort at seeing others in pain. It is our urge to make them feel better. And telling them how things aren't as bad as they feel to the person may be a form of trying to lift them up. But if there is one thing I have learned, it that before offering any silver linings, acknowledge the existing feelings.

Please, don't tell someone not to feel whatever they are feeling, no matter how good or how bad or uncomfortable to you that they seem. That only makes the person feel like they are doing something wrong by having those feelings, that no one understands how they feel, that talking about how they feel is a bad thing, and that they have to find a way to make those feelings stop. This can lead to stuffing feelings, shutting people out, and a constant inner atmosphere of guilt and shame.

Here is what I tell my kids when they are having feelings they don't necessarily want or that I don't necessarily want them to have:

"Can see where that would be [fill in emotion: scary, frustrating, painful, sad, etc]. I'm not going to tell you how to feel. You can feel any way that you want or need to feel. But I will tell you that you don't need to feel [repeat emotion] because [insert logic or bright side or comforting phrases here]."

Here is an example I recently used with Kid-2...

What Not To Say:
Kid-2: Kid-2: I'm scared of this quiz tomorrow. I'm afraid I'm going to get a bad grade and you will be mad at me and I'll get a bad grade in the class. (not verbatim)

Wrong: Oh don't be silly. You'll do fine on the quiz. You're smart. Stop worrying!

Better:

Kid-2: I'm scared of this quiz tomorrow. I'm afraid I'm going to get a bad grade and you will be mad at me and I'll get a bad grade in the class. (not verbatim)

Me: I can see where that would scare you. It's not fun to get a bad grade or to feel like someone is mad at you. I'm not going to tell you how to feel. You can feel scared if you want to, but I will tell you that I love you regardless of your grades in any subject and nothing, especially not grades can make me love you any more or any less than I already do. If you get a bad grade on this quiz, and I don't think you will, then we will do what we can to pull your grade up. So, while I can see that you are nervous about it, I can also see that you don't need to be.

Cheat Sheet:
1. Restate the problem you heard the person say.
2. Acknowledge their feelings - whatever they are.
3. Suggest alternative outcomes and/or point out the silver linings. (Be prepared to skip this one if the person is just venting emotions. Sometimes I ask specifically, "Do you want another point of view or are do you just need to talk?")

Monday, September 8, 2008

Two Inches Tall

The children's choir puts out a roster of everyone in each choir, sorted by zip code. This is to facilitate car-pooling. I looked ours over, checked for names I recognized, and filed it with other choir papers that I will most likely never look at again but had better keep just in case. Then what to my wondering ears should appear, but a phone call from the mother of a kid in Kid-2's choir. She lives nearby and is having transportation problems. Can they catch a ride with us?

Sure, not a problem. So we got to talking, first on the phone, then in the car on the way to choir, a little at the parent meeting during rehearsal and finally in the car on the way home. She also has 4 kids with 2 in the choirs. She has them spaced at 14 (boy), 12 (boy), 10 (boy) and 5 (girl). As things go on, it turns out that her daughter was born at home, surrounded by her loving family and her 3 boys and the eldest cut the cord... And they go to the Fine Arts Magnet School because the other school (where mine go) just isn't diverse enough. She loves to cook and they make everything from scratch because the processed foods are just so unhealthy and poor tasting. Her kids aren't in as many activities as mine but that's how it should be so they have more quality time together - plus they get enrichment from school.

Her son is a nicely dressed, well-groomed, well-mannered young man. Their house is big, beautiful two-story that is immaculately tended and in a great area. I can just picture how neat and tidy their house must be, how everyone does their share and the laundry is done and the dishes are clean and the bathrooms aren't considered finished until the whole thing has been cleaned, not just the top surfaces. I half expected to see a few cheerful woodland creatures or her wearing pearls and heels, but maybe they aren't appropriate for a choir parents' meeting.

I was late getting there. I got lost trying to find the house. So we were late to choir rehearsal. And I couldn't find parking. On the way home, Choir-Mom and Kid-2 were talking about how Kid-2 likes to cook because I hate it and suck at it and she cooks fish sticks and macaroni and cheese and chicken nuggets and things. And Choir-Mom tells her that she should come over some night and Choir-Mom will teach her how to cook "real food" (her phrase) and how I should come too because it's never too late to learn the right way to do something, especially something as important as good cooking.

As we pulled away, I felt about two inches tall. The one thing that I pride myself on is loving my kids and being as good of a mother as I can be. People keep telling me that I don't have to be Super-Mom, that there's no such thing as Super-Mom. They tell me that I'm doing great with my kids and what a good mother I am.

Indeed, I had been basking the warmth of juggling our schedules - with time to pick up strays - and still being alive at the end of the day to mend hearts... Until I heard about how Choir-Mom practically is the very Super-Mom people have been saying doesn't exist. So they aren't (yet) a two-car family... that appears to be the only thing I can say that I do better than she does. And that could be seen as a lifestyle choice.

I don't mean this to sound like I am trying to be competitive, that what matters to me is being the best at things or that being a good mom means I'm better than other mothers. Although there is some feeling of "who does better", it was much more friendly, like sharing tips and things rather than competing, comparing ideas and how we do things.

And it is in that comparison that I felt so very, very small. It's not about being better than Choir-Mom. It's the fact that I saw with my very own eyes how much better (than where I am) I should be. I felt like all my failings were hung out to dry. I can't cook, I don't clean, my kids go to public school, and we single-handedly keep the pharmacy in business. Compared to everything I should be doing, I am not doing much at all.

By the time we got to our birthday dinner at my mother's house, I felt like I was barely two inches tall......

Sunday, September 7, 2008

Double-Talk

I am a master of double-talk. I will be saying one thing while thinking/wishing/feeling something completely different. I went into this in detail in this post on lies. And every so often I find it necessary to purge myself of some of the things I don't say, like I did here. And, in fact, I started this post by repeating much of the same stuff I say every time I get this way. (I never lie but I'm not always answering the question you think you're asking, etc...) Then I caught myself and remembered I've written this before. So I deleted it. But I'm wondering: am I trying to convince other people this is true - or trying to convince myself?

At any rate, this time around, what I'm not saying to people is what I really want and/or need. The Shrink's question, "What do you need?" has really stuck in my mind and I find myself wondering just what it is that I do need.

My birthday is tomorrow and I am, as always, pretending otherwise. (It is also Kid-1's b-day so that makes it a little easier.) Still, people have been asking me what I want for my birthday. And I can think of a million things I want but have a nearly impossible time actually telling people what they are. Why? What's wrong with me? It's not like these things are embarrassing. I love smart-ass t-shirts (got one today that says 'I didn't say it was your fault - I said I'm blaming you!'). I have a list of about a dozen movies and tv shows that I want. I'm always up for new books and I'm not even really picky about what kinds. I want money to pay the fees to get a gym membership started (have to pay and enrollment fee plus 3 months in advance in order to pay by cash. bleh). I want bunkbeds for my boys to make switching their rooms work better. I love gift certificates to just about anywhere. See? These are not complicated or embarrassing or anything - but when push came to shove, I froze and couldn't think of a thing. I don't get it.

By far the biggest time I use double-talk is about my feelings. For someone who can identify other people's emotions as well or better than they can, I have a helluva time explaining my own. But I do have 'code words' that I use that are fairly consistent.

'How are you doing?' is an evil question and one that I almost never answer in a way that my words match my meaning. I have certain stock replies that I choose from and people who know me very well and who take the time and effort to listen can interpret.

(The thing is, this is mostly just a greeting for people and not a sincere question. If people really want to know, they inquire further. If not, they are not made uncomfortable by the blunt truth.)

So I will say 'So far, so good.' which means I'm down but not out. Or I will say 'Just peachy' which people think means happy and good when actually the peach imagery is all symbolism and actually means things are not going well at all. 'I've been better' is used when there is something visibly wrong but which I have no intention of talking about. 'Fine' actually stands for Fucked-up, Insecure, Neurotic (or Negative), and Emotional. This is basically a shut down - I hear you, I'm awful, leave me alone. If I am doing good - I say so, usually with 'surprisingly good' or 'today is a good day' or 'I'm a happy camper today' or something similar that is not double-talk at all.

I use double-talk answers like this with the full intention that I don't get questioned further about my meaning. The point is that I don't have to tell people when I'm hurting and at the same time am not putting them in the position of knowing more than they wanted. Hubby, my Guardian Angel, Baby-Mommy, the SIL, and my mother (when she chooses to) can interpret my 'codes' and can choose whether or not to pursue more details. Usually none of them do, with the exception of my Guardian Angel who seems to always take both the time and effort to find what exactly is going on and why. And it's good that people don't call me on this stuff...... but sometimes I wish they would.

A while back, Kid-1 and I got into a fight. He told me that I don't understand him, and can't understand him, because I don't care about him. We talked and I questioned him as to why he felt that way and at first, he resisted talking to me. But I persisted and got him talking and things actually turned out well. The thing is, when I first asked, he said he didn't want to talk about it... even though he did. He wanted to see if I cared enough to work for the answers. It was a test - and I passed. (This time.)

Now, I know very well that this is an unrealistic test to throw at someone. There is no reason to expect them to know that when you say you don't wanna talk about it, that you really do. People are not mind-readers nor should they have to be.

And yet I (usually sub-consciously) throw this at people all the time. I give a stock answer and see what they have to say about it. If they persist I give general responses, 'I'm just tired.' or 'Kids are driving me crazy.' or 'I have a headache.' are all second level replies that I give. Almost everyone stops at that point. And, again, this is the intention. I don't want to talk to them. I don't trust people with my emotions - hell I don't trust myself with my emotions. And yet...... for a lot of the people, if they keep digging, I will open up. And I respond very well to direct questions.

This evening, I was telling Baby-Mommy about 'What do you need?' and I told her that he asked me that while I was crying as part of the story. We discussed the merits of this very excellent phrasing and then she asked me why I was crying. This is classic dodge and weave territory. I told her I was just overwhelmed. And I expected her to stop and move on. But she didn't... She asked what I was overwhelmed about, did I have breakthrough or something. And then we were talking about the things that are overwhelming me and other things about therapy that I don't share with people (except here and to my Guardian Angel) without serious prodding.

She took the time and the effort to press until I answered. And I will respond to those repeated questions, it just usually takes asking 2 or 3 times if it's a touchy subject. Almost every time, it takes asking more than once for me to feel like the person actually wants to know and is not just being polite or mildly curious. If I truly don't want to talk about it, I will change the subject, repeatedly, getting more and more blatant every time I change it. Sometimes I have the balls to come right out and say 'I don't want to talk about it.' but I often don't because people feel hurt when I do that - like I am shutting them specifically out or that I don't trust them. But the majority of the time, I will respond if the person is willing/able/knows to repeat the inquiry.

But I know this is wrong!! Why do I throw unreasonable expectations at people?! Why can't I just trust people and answer the damned questions??? They can then learn not to ask the question if they don't want the answer.

I can tell you part of it... I used to scrapbook with a friend of mine. She can be a very harsh and judgemental person. (She has tons of redeeming qualities so don't think I don't like her or anything.) I always felt a little awkward around her, not knowing how to behave so that I wouldn't be the recipient of a sharp tongue behind my back like I have heard her do to others countless times. She is one of those people who has never experienced depression and just doesn't get it. She is firmly in the 'suck it up' category. At one point, she was telling me how much it annoyed her that her best friend always had some kind of drama going on, something physically wrong or emotionally tense or whatnot. And she said something to the effect of 'Why does she have to complain all of the time?' Whoa! If she says that about her best friend... what must she be saying about me?

That's when I created the stock responses and canned conversations. I am now always armed with a positive story to tell (usually about my kids) and the 'silver lining' to any clouds that are currently producing tornadoes in my inner world. I also make sure I have some slightly bad news stories to produce should the conversation take that turn - but nothing too bad, too deep, or too whiny. And everything else I stuff away from everyone.

The problem is that I have an all or nothing habit to this. I either can't get out all the crap I stuff to anyone without pressure or I'm so depressed that I can't think of a good thing to say and get annoyed when people try to point out good things. I hate black and white thinking! But sometimes it is so damned hard for me to see even the greys, let alone the rainbow spectrum...

So ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies.
But ask the right questions, you might be surprised.

Friday, September 5, 2008

My Human Shrink

I love my Shrink. He's human. I deal well with holier-than-thou attitude people and he isn't. In fact, sometimes he has off-days. Today was one of them. Normally I relish his off-days because it gives me a glimpse into 'the man behind the mask' and then I don't feel quite so lame. And I dearly love to see into people's lives and who they are and what makes them think and feel whatever they are thinking and feeling.

Today he had one of his rare days when he just wasn't altogether with it. And generally I love those days. But today I could have used a little focus.

He arrived 15 minutes late, reminding me of the days when he was always late. He wore jeans and a button down shirt with the first two buttons open and without the usual t-shirt layered underneath. This is why I originally referred to my therapy as 'Drool Therapy' and the only reason I stuck around for the 6 months until I realized I could trust him.

So he shows up in his Friday casual wear, carrying a bag of cereal and an apple. And he asks me if his shirt is okay or if having the other button undone looks too casual or just plain bad. I laughed at him, of course, and told him he looked fine. So he mulled about the office trying to get organized and find his stuff. So I'm sitting there curled up on his couch, consciously refusing to make small talk, wishing I was still in bed, and watching him being human. And he asks if he can eat his breakfast and I'm trying not to laugh at him but he was just being so adorably... real.

I eventually apologized for bailing on him Wednesday - and told him the truth about why I did. I was nervous about telling him that I blew him off because I was too tired to come. I was afraid it would hurt his feelings, even though I know he is a professional and wouldn't take it personally anyways because that's not his style. I was also afraid he'd charge me for the missed appointment, which he is well within his rights to do but I still can't afford it. And, probably most of all, I knew it should be a topic for discussion because in 2 1/2 years with him, I have never just blown him off, even in my darkest times.

And we did start to talk about it. I wanted to. I need help and I don't know what to do. I needed him to hear me and help me figure out something reasonable. But he was really having an off day and kept getting distracted. I even told him about the Xanax. He didn't have much to say about it. He asked how much I took and why I took it. Then he moved the subject to why I haven't been sleeping and suggested a sleep study. Somehow we got off on a tangent about the new meds for my head/neck/shoulders and seeing a physical therapist for it. We talked about the crushing financial pressure we are under right now, bounced stuff around about the bunkbeds for the boys.

But it seemed like every time we started to get somewhere in the conversation, he got distracted. And at one point, he was recapping why it is that I am feeling so overwhelmed that I am back to being suicidal. And he made a heavy point about Hubby and Baby-Mommy again, which I had just begun to relax a little bit about. I did feel validated that I have a whole heck of a lot going on and it's not overly surprising that I am feeling overwhelmed.

I actually started crying this morning, which I don't often do in session. And he asked me an interesting question. I think it is the question we all mean when we try to comfort someone who is upset but it's not the question we generally ask. He asked me what I need. It was very gentle and very caring and I really felt understood at that minute. He didn't ask me what was wrong, like everyone does. I have no idea how to answer the question of what's wrong. He asked me what I needed. I'm going to have to remember that for the future, to use that phrasing, it felt so powerful.

So, aside from some good 'human shrink' moments, what I got from therapy today was a few moments of connection and the one bit of help he did provide. He reminded me to 'fill up my tank' by taking care of my own needs. He says it's not selfish of me to care for myself as well as others. He said that everyone needs to put their own well being high on their priority list. He said that when he doesn't get to run or exercise, he is less efficient in every area. He said he has less patience and a harder time being a good dad when he doesn't get his running time in. He said I need to make sure I refill my tank. I don't know how the heck I am going to do that - our schedules are crazy busy, money is running in the negative figures, and Hubby is about to abandon me, uh.. leave for train school. I'm still thinking on it.

I'd still rather be dead than trying to deal with this crap. It's all too much and there is no way out of it. But I won't destroy my children that way. They would, literally, never recover. That's not delusions of grandeur - I've read the literature and the studies on children with a parent who committed suicide and it's devastating. So I'll just keep swimming and trying to do too much irreparable damage to them. And I'll dream of peace and of rest and of no more pain...

Put on your own oxygen mask before your children's. You can't help them if you are incapacitated.

Wednesday, September 3, 2008

What Day Is It Really?

I woke up today kinda grumpy - like most days when I wake up. I'd had the strangest dream. Baby-Mommy had taken me to the hospital for a migraine I didn't have. And they gave me medicine that did no good through an IV in the wrong place. And I had eaten a brownie at some point either right before we left for the ER or right after we got back. Probably before because I'm pretty sure I went straight to bed after we got home. It was a very strange dream...

So I finally dragged myself out of bed, none too happy about it, and went about trying to get people ready. My first clue that all was not as it seemed came when Kid-3 asked if the new T-shirt he was wearing would be okay for picture day. I told him picture day was tomorrow. He said no, it is today. Firmly (read: 'with great irritation') I informed him that he was wrong because picture day is on Wednesday the 3rd, not Tuesday as he was claiming.

It is Wednesday.

I actually argued with him, with all of them. I pulled out the calendar. They assured me me it was Wednesday, which made no sense whatsoever. Finally I pulled out the computer to check the date. And it was indeed - is indeed... Wednesday.

Now, I lose time. It's a fact I know and deal with. Most generally I find out or remember shortly after the fact what happened. This time, I have no idea. The only thing I can figure is that when I took too many of the Xanax Monday night, I threw off something in my head. And I didn't quite shake it off until this morning.

I've been trying to think of what exactly made me take all those pills. Because I wasn't trying to kill myself. I know what dosage in what combination to make that happen and I deliberately didn't do that. Nonetheless, I knew I was taking a handful and I knew that was kinda sorta supposed to be a bad thing. I just couldn't stand the thought of being awake any longer. So I took a handful of them and went to bed.

But... why?

I mean, it's gotten so bad that I cancelled my appointment with The Shrink today, just because I couldn't stand the thought of going. I've never done that before. I practically worship the man and count on him to help me work through things like this and I didn't want to be there. (I did reschedule for Friday morning, though. Maybe he can help me figure this out.)