Peeling back another layer
I’ve become more reticent to post anything here lately. Many things have contributed to this; but the most important has been my relative destabilisation. The past four months have been filled with anxiety, dysfunctional coping and fluctuating functioning. One of the causes for this has been facing memories which are challenging the way I view myself, and the environment I was raised in. This means that many of my fundamental beliefs are being called into question.
I say “facing memories”, because they have always been there, but up until now I haven’t been ready to look at them. I still don’t know if I am, but this Easter has meant that they’ve arrived like a freight train, regardless of my state of preparation. I’m not sure how you prepare for flashbacks anyway… how do you prepare for emotions which sweep you up and take you on a ride through hell, complete with screams and fire?
In some ways, it could be argued that I began preparing for these memories over five years ago, when I first admitted to a therapist that I was abused in a kindergarten playground by some local teenagers. Kerro talks about peeling back the layers of abuse, and this was my first layer. It was the furtherest from my emotional reactions, so could be told with little affect… it was also the event most quickly relegated to the back of my mind, like headlines in an old newspaper.
Each layer of abuse has posed unique challenges, but this latest layer is causing all sorts of turmoil. It feels as if disturbing this layer is going to change the shape and texture of my life. There is a great deal of fear about this, and many warning signs that the system would like these layers to be left alone. But then these two images keep appearing in flashbacks… they’re not dramatic; in fact, they’re actually rather ordinary… as long as I keep the flashback looking straight ahead… that’s the key, keeping a very tight focus on a point straight ahead. If I look anywhere else, it feels as if the Earth will tilt… and we don’t want that, do we?
Over the past couple of months, I’ve been what can only be described as throwing Allison distractions. Yes, there has been healing work done, but it’s all been dancing around these two related images… testing Allison to see if she will cope, and whether we can trust her reaction to the events. In some ways, I’m still not sure, as some of her reactions seem a little OTT… although, I have a feeling that her reactions are a more authentic reaction to the events; they just happen to clash with my dismissive attitude towards them. I sit there rather bemused, while Allison is telling me how awful it is that those people used me in those ways.
So, back to the images… As I’ve begun to realise the significance of their connection, there has been an all out rebellion inside my head. This has meant that I’ve approached them, and then backed away, several times over the months. This dance with the images is probably my way of desensitising myself to their impact… to allow myself the slower realisation of the implications. I’m not sure if I like this approach, as it sort of feels like a slow torture… why not just do the equivalent of ripping the band aid off, and throw the door wide open?
I recently read a post by Jenny (from artconstellation) about how her stay in-patient helped her realise that she needs to repeat really painful ideas over and over in order for them to sink in and be addressed. I think this is why Allison is regularly asking me to slow down… I’m used to the band aid approach; whereas healing occurs when you allow the emotional connections to happen, and that takes more than one quick telling as you rush through a session. It takes time, grieving, validation and acceptance… things which I don’t traditionally have much patience for. I’m used to approaching a problem at work from different perspectives, but not my healing.
I think this is the reason for my slow dance around these images. Trying to allow the system the chance to accept that these are the memories and emotions that need to be addressed. As the realisation has sunk in that there is a connection between the images, there is huge amounts of fear, confusion and anger. These seem to feed into each other to create a whirlpool of emotions which I can’t label or even begin to comprehend. As I glimpse at these emotions, there is that ever present fear that they will take over my whole being. They seem so much bigger than anything I’ve ever had to face before.
The thing is, I’ve been in this place before. I’ve worked through emotions which have felt so immense, that I didn’t know if it was possible to even begin to go near them… yet I did. Sometimes my coping was dysfunctional, but I always found a way through. So why can’t I believe in my own abilities? The message always seems to come back to not trusting myself. There is that lingering doubt that I’m still paying lip service to healing, and wanting to rip another band aid off… these images, and the parts who hold the associated emotions, are worthy of more respect and care than the band aid approach… I need to remember that.
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Now playing: Bush – Glycerine
via FoxyTunes
PDF Apologies
As a child, it was often up to me to take on the responsibility of the destructive play of my siblings… if something got damaged while the four of us were playing, the others decided that, because I was the favourite, the father would be less angry if I took the blame. This sort of blame game became so advanced, that I would often come home from school to find myself responsible for another broken vase, letting the chooks out, etc. Because I was so much younger than the others, I took on the responsibility that the others gave me without question – I had little choice.
This scenario set me up for taking punishments which weren’t mine to take. It also meant that when I really did something wrong, I thought the world was going to end, because I’d been punished for things I didn’t do, so how bad was the punishment going to be for the things that I did do? I tried in very childish ways to cover up for any of my mistakes, and tried so very hard not to make any to begin with. But, mistakes were inevitable. My father is narcissistic, so often the mistakes were beyond my comprehension… spending too long with a friends family (“Do you like them more than your own family?”), reading too many books (“So you think you’re better than the rest of us, do you?”), and so on.
It seemed as if the goal posts which determined my mistakes, and what I was responsible for, kept changing.
This has lead to what has been described as one of my more annoying traits… the tendency to apologise for everything and anything. I apologise like it’s my responsibility that someone else is having a bad day, and taking it out on you; when someone else makes a bad decision; that you got an B instead of an A for that assignment… you get the idea. I realise that this is my co-dependency issues coming to the surface again… I’ll do anything to placate someone and ease a tense situation. I don’t intellectually believe that I am responsible for these problems; but I believe emotionally that if I don’t apologise, something bad will happen. The more I care about you, or the more I’m scared of you, the more I will apologise.
I’m not sure if it is associated with this trait, but I often don’t remember apologies from others. I can be sure that someone else hasn’t apologised, to then find an email where they clearly state they’re sorry for a misunderstanding. As I write this, I wonder if I don’t remember others apologies, because I don’t want to be in the role of a person doling out the punishment for the wrongs others have done. I vividly remember my father saying that he didn’t want to punish me, but he had to because it was the only way that I’d learn. I could be saying sorry, but it didn’t matter, the punishment had to be done. So now, it’s almost as if I’m scared that by accepting an apology, I’ll be responsible for that person being hurt in some way, just as my father was “forced” to punish when he didn’t want to… so I block out the apology to avoid the consequences.
I often block out the misunderstanding as well, but not always. This can create a situation where parts of me are feeling (rightly) agrieved about a situation; and while an apology has been forthcoming from the other person involved, other parts of the system have blocked the apology as an old self protection coping mechanism. The knowledge that I can block out an apology leads to a situation where I doubt my own experiences and feelings. I’m never sure whether I have a right to be upset about something, or whether it was sorted through at the time of the incident. As a result, I tend to stamp down my feelings and keep on going.
As I heal, I’m finding that the stamping down isn’t as effective. There is more tension around the issue of being hurt by others and apologies in general. I get confused about when I should be offended, and when I deserve an apology. It’s a whole other kettle of fish actually acting on any of those feelings… I often miss the mark, and ask about a situation which I don’t fully remember, and has been worked through. I’d like to think that it’s progress that I took the risk of asking… but in reality it makes me feel like a failure for not having the full picture. I’ve learned to only do this with people that I trust, and are the least likely to be offended if I don’t remember the whole incident… like learning all things new, I’ve still got my training wheels on, and one of them is a bit loose. Until I can fix the training wheel and get more confidence about what apologies mean to me, I’ll keep on apologising at the drop of a hat, and question those that let me land on a soft cushion when I get it wrong.
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Now playing: The Fray – How To Save A Life
via FoxyTunes
I hate Autumn
I have a habit at this time of year… a habit of dumping therapists. When I look back over my past experiences with therapists, the end of the therapeutic relationship has usually begun in Autumn. It usually starts out subtly, but is always aimed at undermining my confidence in their ability to guide me through the healing process. This dumping process has started with Allison.
Ending any therapeutic relationship is just one of the things I do to disconnect from life at this time of year. The disconnect can be pretty harsh and sudden – I deleted my FaceBook accounts, I’ve stopped going out and taking photos, I’ve been less communicative at work, I don’t comment on others blogs like I usually do, I don’t post anything here… The list goes on. I know that under the surface, there is a huge amount of anger driving the disconnect. I’ve been trying to work with these emotions for the last year, and I was making progress; but things seem to be backsliding. I actively worked against the backsliding over the weekend by reconnecting a FaceBook account and forcing myself to get outside and do the gardens – there was even an odd peace experienced when mowing the lawns. But I know that things are precarious. The only reason I could write anything here today was because I did a Wordle exercise of free writing seemingly random words for 10 minutes. There was a jumble of positive words such as love, dance, friends… through to words such as disconnect, hate, anger… I know the reason for some of the words, and they are tied strongly to this time of year. In the Southern Hemisphere we’re heading into the Rugby season; a time historically, when most of my abuse occurred. My hope is that my awareness of these triggers will mean that I can navigate this Winter more successfully.
I read a quote recently that said it’s a lot easier to say your angry, than you’re hurt. While I agree with the quote, I also know that there are parts of me that are both. They have reasons to be both, very good reasons. I now have to find ways in which to ease those powerful emotions in safe ways. I don’t think that this year I’ll be able to distract them all away like I tried to do last year. I don’t think it’s healthy for me to do that this year, even if it were possible. That will just set-up more compartmentalisation, and I need to ease those compartments, not reinforce them. I also know that I can’t have another Winter like last year…
I really do hate Autumn, but I hate Winter even more…
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Now playing: Beyoncé – Single Ladies (Put A Ring On It)
via FoxyTunes
My Truth
When Paul announced that the topic for both the Carnival Against Child Abuse, and Expressive Arts Carnival would be “your truth”, I was excited. I struggle with what my truth is, almost on a daily basis; so saw this as a great way to explore my reactions and issues around the concept. Then the reality of writing about the topic hit me… literally. I published a post about my truth last week, which received some negative feedback, and all my insecurities came out and had a party. It became a fight about whether I would look more foolish keeping it up, or taking it down. I decided to take it down.
I consider truth to be an amorphous concept. What I wrote last week, was my truth at that time. What I write today, will be different because I’ve learned from last week’s experience, and gained more understanding about the situation. If I write another post on this topic in a week, month or year, it will be different again. Truth isn’t set in stone. Truth is derived from the understanding of our experiences… but that understanding comes from our perspective, bias, values, etc.
Truth also has political, economic and cultural importance. This is where I start to get confused – not because I think I’m of any great importance, but rather because so many people seem to have a vested interest in my truth…
- The False Memory Syndrome Foundation and DID deniers are vocal in their opinion and research that they say proves you cannot repress traumatic memory in the way that many DID cases are presenting.
- Extreme supporters of DID tell you to seek out each memory and believe it as the truth.
- My family don’t know what to believe, but they are tired of having a daughter who is unwell.
- Work doesn’t care as long as they get more than my contracted hours of work, and I don’t inconvenience them with my phobias.
- ACC accepts that I have issues related to sexual abuse, but would prefer this to have been “resolved” long ago so that they didn’t need to keep funding my therapy.
I find it impossible to ignore all of these conflicting messages and theories. In some ways, I think it’s dangerous to do so. Each group has something to teach us… FMS helped to place a check of poor therapeutic practice; our family show us how confusing our experience can appear to the outside world; and so on. But, I don’t think that it’s up to us as individuals, to get caught up in the debates and arguments. I think that we owe it to ourselves to be an informed consumer; to gain power over our own healing, and to play an active part in that healing process. But we shouldn’t hurt ourselves in the process.
I’ve read much of the FMS material. I’ve debated with the DID deniers. I’ve questioned the beliefs of the extreme supporters. Each of those interactions has come at a personal cost. I begin to doubt my truth. I become conflicted and destabilised. Opponents to DID, would argue that this destabilisation was due to the house of cards that I have built my life on, being threatened. The thing is, the intellectual part of me likes this reasoning. At times I embrace denial for all it’s worth. Events which I know occurred are minimised, or I detach emotionally from them.
But, this doesn’t explain how I continue to react to things. Even in the midst of my denial, I still avoid the smell of tyres on a hot summer day, I must have my back to the wall… the list goes on. I can appear bright, happy and be super-functional; yet internally I’ve compartmentalised the turmoil, and can dangerously self injure within the hour. This is where my intellectual/autobiographical truth, and the truth of my sensory memory collide. For me, healing comes, not from trying to uncover every single memory, but rather in coping with what I am facing in the present – it’s about symptom management, not chasing memories.
It’s my intellectual part that needs to know what happened to me; but this has never been where my healing has occurred. My greatest leaps in healing have always come from working through a trigger in the present. It’s shown the wounded parts of me that it is possible to be safe. Ironically, this safety has often led to more sharing of emotions, and yes, sometimes memories. But these were shared from a place of strength, not chaos. They didn’t have the power to sweep me along on an emotional tidal wave. That’s not to say that I don’t get swept away, I do. But I’m learning how to cope in the present in a more proactive way… a more emotional way. It’s uncomfortable, it’s scary, but the benefits are showing.
So what is my truth? I was hurt in the past by people who should have protected me. That betrayal of trust now influences my life in significant ways. I get confused, distracted and hurt by the controversy that is associated with the diagnostic label that a psychiatrist assigned me. I am trying my best to heal from the wounds of the past, understand the controversy, and (more importantly) live a life. Isn’t that what most of us are trying to do?
What is the truth… or are they both the truth seen from different perspectives?
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Now playing: Collective Soul – December
via FoxyTunes
Reflections: Part II
Yesterday I wrote a happy shiny summary on 2010. It was accurate, and covered many of the positive things that had happened last year, but it wasn’t an accurate reflection. The purpose of a reflective exercise is to put the past into a learning framework, and that’s what I failed to do. By looking only at the positives, I sidelined and ignored the struggles I faced, and how those struggles influenced the positives.
When looking at the overall themes of last year, it’s easy to see that I was concentrating on safety and consistency. To me, these issues are intertwined. I’m at a stage in my healing where I need a consistent structure in order to find safety. If this structure is absent, as it was when my therapeutic relationship with Liz disintegrated, and my friendship with Matthew fell apart; there were serious consequences for my safety. I lost an anchor that I had relied on – no matter how dysfunctional it was, and I allowed it to push me into a downward spiral. This was even more evident, when my cynical work friend started having an affair with a married man. The triggers associated with the relationship were too close to my parents relationship, that I was unable to relax around her like I used to. Unlike the rupture with Liz and Matthew, I was able to maintain an altered friendship with my work friend. The key difference, was that with Liz and Matthew there was hurt in the present, whereas I had the awareness to realise that my work friend wasn’t hurting me directly in the past or present. I may not agree with her moral choices, but the friendship was maintained, if somewhat modified.
Throughout the year, I’ve had ACC decisions hanging over my head. This was one of the drivers which lead to my suicide attempt, and to my withdrawal from life. The thought of a faceless case manager deciding my therapeutic fate, without having ever met me, basically did my head in. This is a fairly consistent story across many sensitive claims clients. The power imbalance in favour of ACC, is such a trigger to the old abusive situations, that it’s difficult to work your way through to a rational interaction with them. Despite my fears, the assessing psychiatrist was incredibly supportive and gentle. He gave me a significant impairment which should hopefully allow me to access therapeutic care for awhile yet.
This leads onto the therapeutic relationship with Allison. I’ve avoided talking about her and what happens in therapy, mainly because I want to protect the relationship. As with any human relationship, there are ups and downs, but the strength of Allison, is her ability to encourage me to slow down. My default coping mechanism is to dissociate and rush through anything that feels scary; but Allison is helping me to realise that this doesn’t have to happen. I can tolerate the emotions that are a part of living. They may scare me, and I may not understand what I hear within sessions; but what is said and felt, is me. It’s that simple, and that complicated.
I still struggle with denial, minimisation, comparisons and other circular thinking. But, Allison helps me to work through this through validation and acceptance. She doesn’t encourage blind faith, and is open to questioning about the validity of what is being said, and her experience with dealing with what I present. Not that I challenge her on a regular basis or anything… well, actually I don’t as much as I did. There is a sense of respect towards Allison, even if there isn’t consistent trust.
Last year, I also briefly saw WPT and an occupational therapist. They were at opposite ends of the helpful spectrum… WPT helped me realise that by saying how strong the young ones within the system were, I was re-enforcing the idea that they were meant to stay strong and protect me. This was so obvious, but yet, I thought I was showing respect by mentioning their strength. But the young ones need care, not more pressure. In contrast, the occupational therapist was not a good therapeutic match. She reminded me of a cross between a cheerleader and an unskilled kindergarten teacher – lots of loud enthusiastic talk, with very little substance or experience. Thankfully she discharged me after meeting one of the three goals we’d established.
One of the things that worried me about seeing these other therapists, was that I wondered if my life would revolve around therapy and healing. Considering my work commitments; this would be unlikely, and it would probably have been helpful if they had worked out. But, there was that nagging fear that I would start to define myself and my life through my mental health. Which when I consider that I spent so much time this year caught up in self injury, the change of focus to healing, might have been a good thing!
Yes, my old nemesis… self injury. It also bumped into my suicidal ideation and intent this year, which wasn’t a pretty sight or feeling. But a shock can sometimes be good for the system, and near the end of last year, I got one. It wasn’t the suicide attempt, but instead the health of a friend bringing up all sorts of memories. Consequences, accountability, fears and reality all collided. Repercussions were felt throughout the system, and as a result, one dangerous form of self injury has been largely controlled. There is yet to be any sense of accomplishment about this, and there is a fear that the triggering presence of the mother is going to release a tidal wave of self injury this weekend. All I can do is plan for it not to happen…
So much of my life now, is about trying to live from moment to moment. I had hoped to be further along in my healing than this by now, but I’m not. This isn’t to take away from the accomplishments that I have achieved, but rather a sense of “not again”. This Christmas, I did cope better than the previous year; but then I had hayfever, so could barely speak or raise my head. The hayfever has eased, and with that, the triggering memories and intolerance of the mother has returned. The mother has been here two weeks, and that’s about three weeks too long. Wish me luck for the rest of the week…
As so much of my year has been on exploring the creative arts, I thought I’d do the following summaries of the positive, and difficult work that I’ve been doing. As a warning, the second (Polyvore) video may trigger.
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Now playing: The Beatles – Here Comes The Sun
via FoxyTunes
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Now playing: Yo-Yo Ma – Unaccompanied Cello Suite No. 5 in C minor, BWV 1011: IV. Sarabande
via FoxyTunes
Christmas past
Two weeks ago, I was convinced that I had this Christmas thing sorted. I was feeling excited. I was thinking of putting up a Christmas tree and decorations, there was even talk of presents! When I consider the place I was in, at this time last year, that felt like a huge improvement. But then, the stirrings of Christmas past started to come back to haunt me. I have few memories of Christmas as I was growing up; but what I do remember, is full of pain, contradictions, unmet expectations and false hope.
What do you see when you look at the typical Christmas imagery? Happy families, snow, Christmas trees, presents, togetherness, joy, peace, and so on. These all help to build up expectations of what Christmas should be. There is a huge pressure from society to meet these expectations; and it’s almost impossible for a regular family to meet them, let alone a dysfunctional family like the one I grew up a part of.
I remember Christmas as being a burden for the family… there was so much money needed for presents, food and alcohol. The mother would save throughout the year in order to be able to fulfil the work and family commitments that were expected of us… we must keep up the illusion of the perfect family after all, mustn’t we! Those commitments involved hosting parties where the Summer heat, alcohol and music lead to a lowering of inhibitions and an increasing level of raucousness. I still have nightmares about the laughter from the parties.
Thinking about the presents we received, it was odd. As there were two boys and two girls in the family, we often got the same presents, but different colours – my brothers would both get the same plane, but from different countries; the sister and I would get the same doll, but hers would be brunette and mine would be blonde. I find that a little odd, especially as the sister is five years older than me. Did she get inappropriately younger gifts, or did I get inappropriately older gifts? I’m not sure why, but I get a sense that the gifts were another way different ones in the system felt that they “owed” the parents, and that we were disposable, or easily exchanged with the sister. It seems like we weren’t encouraged to feel a sense of individuality or separateness from each other.
Don’t get me wrong, I am grateful to have received gifts, especially when I know that so many go without. I’m only trying to show how easily children can pick-up on undercurrents and implied messages. I doubt that the mother was purposefully trying to invalidate any of us with the gifts, but that is what happened. I have a feeling she did it in the interests of treating us equally, and it’s only with my now distorted hindsight, that I see it in this way.
Presents have always been a triggering and negative thing for me. The act of someone giving me a gift immediately raises questions about the persons motivations… What do they expect in return? What have I done that is worthy of receiving a gift? What do I get the person in return? What is appropriate to give? What do I have to do to keep their respect, or is it all a game and they’re teasing me?
I’m getting better at accepting gifts as they were intended, but it’s still a struggle. Part of me continues to go back to the old days where getting a present was a reward for being a “good girl”. This is possibly why Christmas was always so difficult… different people would give me presents, and I couldn’t figure out what was needed to pay them back. It’s for this reason that I like the change in focus away from gifts… which reminds me of an argument that I continually had with Matthew. He was always worried about not being able to compete with his now ex-wife because she could afford to give the boys gifts. I would always argue that his place within his boys life was secure as long as he provided them with love and safety. But I don’t know if that’s true, I’d like to think it is, but peer pressure and societal expectations can be a great influence.
Sometimes I hate society. Then, I’m reminded of the good it can do as well – Geek girls ACTIVATE! I know the first action was one of bullying, but the response was what mattered. It reminds me that there is good out there too.
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Now playing: Falling Slowly – Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová
via FoxyTunes
System failure
At least it’s an upgrade on last year’s failure… I purchased a new computer a couple of months ago. Macs are awesomeness!
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Now playing: Cold Chisel – Forever Now
via FoxyTunes
