I was looking over the comments that people made on my recent carpool posts. I had to smile at the 'emperor's-new-clothes' congruency: as I tiptoed cautiously around the term, hesitated to apply it, and even blamed myself for it, the commenters pointed out the obvious: "Users!" I was busy examining the DNA of the feathers (so there'd be no mistake) to confirm that it was, indeed, a duck while you were all calling it what it was: "Duck!"
This realization was further confirmed when I was talking with a social worker friend of mine. Here I thought I'd been having this private experience of angst, and it turns out that it's so widespread there's a name for it. Well, I don't remember the name for it, but it falls into a classification of 'personality disorder'; and, one of the signs that I'm dealing with someone with a personality disorder is that very feeling of revulsion (ick) I was feeling.
It's curious to consider that an internal experience I have in response to another person might be a clue about them.
I suppose what felt icky was the fundamental untruth in regards to the nature of the thing. They were treating their request(s) as if it(they) came from a context of us being equal participants in a reciprocal relationship. For me to accede to their expanding requests meant to lie about what was really going on. To be in alignment with Truth, there would have had to have been a mutual acknowledgment, initiated by them, that they were asking me to put my needs and priorities behind theirs. In the absence of such candor I was being asked in effect to lie.
Now what's interesting to me is the anguish this caused me, faced with the prospect of telling the truth and setting the record straight, or going along with the fiction. What on earth was generating that electrical shock feeling that deterred me from seeing the situation as it was--and in fact feeling as if it was a flaw in me that I would have feelings that were telling me I was being used?
Apparently it's been very important to allow myself to be used, and to suppress any contrary feelings that surfaced as a result. It's actually been nearly second nature, as I look back over my life (through my written record of diaries) and find that I was ashamed when I had feelings objecting to contributing to the smooth running of somebody else's world. I truly thought the feelings meant something unworthy about me. Something would have to be wrong with me for accusing a family of using me when the 'evidence' seemed flimsy. I must be imagining it, or projecting something small in myself onto them. Or I must have invited it, somehow--maybe led them to believe that it was ok to ask...Why was it so much easier to blame myself than assign responsibility to the Other?
At any rate, naming reality was as painful, or maybe even a little more painful, than just doing as I was "asked" (in quotes because the implication was that 'No' was not an acceptable answer). It was excruciating to me to be in a situation where lying feels fundamentally wrong , but telling the truth was in effect an accusation. And one of the ways I coped was to be 'confused' about the truth--how can I say for sure that someone is seeing me only as a means to take care of their needs? How can I know that's true about them? And since chances are if it was true they'd never admit it, I never can know. And if I can't know, shouldn't I give them the benefit of the doubt? Maybe it's my feelings that are wrong.
The other day I came around to a way of looking at it that made confronting the truth less frightening for me--if I need to set boundaries it doesn't have to be a reflection of the other person's worth. And this is why it felt so uncomfortable, 'icky' to me to say no to Benjamin and have him protest that he wasn't 'trying to impose.' It was uncomfortable for me because it seemed like it was unacceptable for me to be seen as a person who was accusing him of imposing. It seemed I was impugning his worth.
Now I see that refusing to go along with a loaded situation that threatens feeling bad/icky as a consequence (punishment, deterrent) of refusal is reality clarification. It is saying, excuse me, but I am not an extension of your will. Furthermore it says, You are behaving as if I am an extension of your will and I beg to differ. I guess there's no other conclusion the 'User' can come to than that he/she has imposed.
And, I. Don't. Care.
Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
Showing posts with label angst. Show all posts
Showing posts with label angst. Show all posts
Friday, January 16, 2009
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Excerpts
What to do. My brain dulled by summer and the full-time surround of kids and kidsounds. I don't think even the book chicklet recommended can help me. She described my experience so accurately:
" Sometimes, you want to post about the things that mean the MOST to you, but you're just not sure how to put it out there in a way that makes it REALLY make sense, you know, in the way it does in your HEAD"
I flatter myself. She's more spot on when she talks about "your brain's just FRIED and you're having one of those "dumber than a rock" moments."
Call me Petra. And I flatter myself to think it's just a 'moment'.
BUT, I found the solution to having "That Man Was A Bastard" on my opening page for weeks.
I give you:
EXCERPTS
I have 38 years of intact diaries floating around. Surely that can be good filler material? Sort of like having a rock quarry in my back yard for building a road, should I need one.
So, for my first installment of excerpts, I offer Existential Angst, from August 1993 (I'd been married for 16 months, about to turn 37 in Oct. I wasn't even thinking about kids.). The therapist I'd been seeing for seven years, Sharon, and I had terminated our therapy relationship in January. That had been an unhappy experience for me.
Sometimes my terror is about how alone I really am. I don't really experience it as terror (like extreme fear for my survival), though I used to, I think, when I'd see The Abyss. Perhaps the abyss, which I've worked in lots of metaphores--in climbing, boating, in the story of my mom blaming me for the lost puppet and I circled a large hole in the field, looking for it there, in the bottom-of-the-well analogy--perhaps the "gapped rage" discussed in Earth Spell also symbolized this abuss (or the Abyss symbolizes the gapped rage.) Back when I was a teenager and aware enough to experience these feelings as an Abyss, come to think of it, was when I was very aware of how alone I was. I had a slew of very complicated feelings and found when I tried to explain them to someone else that the someone else would be hearing something that was different from my experience. It was frightening especially when I realized I couldn't even explain my feelings to myself in ways that matched what I was feeling. Then I would wonder if what I was saying was REALLY what it sounded like to other people and I was "just" denying it because it sounded bad. And then it would seem I "should" accept the other person's version of it because if I didn't it meant I was just making excuses. Then it seemed that the feelings I had around that (of terror that maybe it was RIGHT to accept these other's interpretation) were further proof that I should accept the other's view. It was a horrible bind.
Somehow, Sharon was able to interrupt that cycle, but there were times even with her where I felt she pressed her overlay onto what my feelings and experience meant. (This, even from the person that I was lucky enough to feel as close to perfectly understood as I've ever felt with another human being.)
So there is a way I can never be fully understood by Another, and in that sense I'm alone.
I've sought understanding through the route of explaining my interior experience perfectly enough to match it. I usually fall short, and despair. Its complicated sometimes when I try this with another person and I sense they have another interpretaton. That increases my discomfort, especially if I sense their interpretation may not be favorable to me or may involve a judgment.
(An added twist is that I wonder if my discomfort comes from "knowing" they are "right.") (Especially since I'm well aware that our defense mechanisms may keep us from being able to see ourselves objectively, even if its in our best interests to see ourselves as we are.)
So there is comfort to be found in thinking that light can be shed on some of these convoluted areas.
" Sometimes, you want to post about the things that mean the MOST to you, but you're just not sure how to put it out there in a way that makes it REALLY make sense, you know, in the way it does in your HEAD"
I flatter myself. She's more spot on when she talks about "your brain's just FRIED and you're having one of those "dumber than a rock" moments."
Call me Petra. And I flatter myself to think it's just a 'moment'.
BUT, I found the solution to having "That Man Was A Bastard" on my opening page for weeks.
I give you:
EXCERPTS
I have 38 years of intact diaries floating around. Surely that can be good filler material? Sort of like having a rock quarry in my back yard for building a road, should I need one.
So, for my first installment of excerpts, I offer Existential Angst, from August 1993 (I'd been married for 16 months, about to turn 37 in Oct. I wasn't even thinking about kids.). The therapist I'd been seeing for seven years, Sharon, and I had terminated our therapy relationship in January. That had been an unhappy experience for me.
Sometimes my terror is about how alone I really am. I don't really experience it as terror (like extreme fear for my survival), though I used to, I think, when I'd see The Abyss. Perhaps the abyss, which I've worked in lots of metaphores--in climbing, boating, in the story of my mom blaming me for the lost puppet and I circled a large hole in the field, looking for it there, in the bottom-of-the-well analogy--perhaps the "gapped rage" discussed in Earth Spell also symbolized this abuss (or the Abyss symbolizes the gapped rage.) Back when I was a teenager and aware enough to experience these feelings as an Abyss, come to think of it, was when I was very aware of how alone I was. I had a slew of very complicated feelings and found when I tried to explain them to someone else that the someone else would be hearing something that was different from my experience. It was frightening especially when I realized I couldn't even explain my feelings to myself in ways that matched what I was feeling. Then I would wonder if what I was saying was REALLY what it sounded like to other people and I was "just" denying it because it sounded bad. And then it would seem I "should" accept the other person's version of it because if I didn't it meant I was just making excuses. Then it seemed that the feelings I had around that (of terror that maybe it was RIGHT to accept these other's interpretation) were further proof that I should accept the other's view. It was a horrible bind.
Somehow, Sharon was able to interrupt that cycle, but there were times even with her where I felt she pressed her overlay onto what my feelings and experience meant. (This, even from the person that I was lucky enough to feel as close to perfectly understood as I've ever felt with another human being.)
So there is a way I can never be fully understood by Another, and in that sense I'm alone.
I've sought understanding through the route of explaining my interior experience perfectly enough to match it. I usually fall short, and despair. Its complicated sometimes when I try this with another person and I sense they have another interpretaton. That increases my discomfort, especially if I sense their interpretation may not be favorable to me or may involve a judgment.
(An added twist is that I wonder if my discomfort comes from "knowing" they are "right.") (Especially since I'm well aware that our defense mechanisms may keep us from being able to see ourselves objectively, even if its in our best interests to see ourselves as we are.)
So there is comfort to be found in thinking that light can be shed on some of these convoluted areas.
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
In the interest of full disclosure...
In the interest of authenticity and truthfulness I suppose I should share my lows as well as my highs. The last post reflected a perfect storm of 'gifts'--the confirmation that facing facts and waiting in (for me, shaky) trust yields results that transcend what seem to be inevitable. I was an amazed "kindee" (I suppose, doing my 'job' as a kindee: responding with joy, gratitude, wonder at an unexpected and undeserved gift). A lovely experience. Might as well end the blog right there: living happily ever after.
Well, back to the other job of the kindee-- to be vulnerable and helpless, waiting (and I hate waiting) in (shaky) trust. Yeah, my trust is riddled with holes, but I AM new at this.
Scott had his first week of 1st grade at the new school last week. Reports from Billy on 'how he did' were uneven but largely positive. However, he's just instituted a 'responsibility chart' that identifies 4 levels of responsibility and commensurate privileges. Yesterday when I arrived for pick-up he was talking with the students about assigning them seats. Scott transfers in and within a couple of days these behavioral curbs are put into place...halfway through the school year and now there's a need? Coincidence? I'll ask on Friday. At pickup yesterday when I asked how Scott had done Billy hesitated before answering. I noted that Scott had moved up a level on the responsibility chart which Billy acknowledged but I got the impression that achieving that level did not necessarily mean a smooth upward glide. He said something about "he's not where I want him to be yet" or something like that. On the drive home Scott says he had a good day.
Instantly my waiting-for-the-other-show-to-drop persona asserts itself and I'm fearing the worst (spitting in the eye of god?). I sent an e-mail to Billy asking the nature of Scott not being-where-Billy-wants-him-to-be. I shared my fear that maybe his educational experience was off to a bad start by virtue of having really been unready for a classroom setting. Perhaps he'd had insufficient skills in self-regulation and expecting him to learn in a room full of distractions is akin to expecting a baby to walk before the development of bones and muscle are complete. Perhaps deformity has resulted...?
Billy responded with an e-mail suggesting we have a conference, with Scott, on Friday after school. I've agreed, and I'm apprehensive.
My biggest fear is that Scott won't succeed, I guess. Success defined as developing a love of learning, and a classroom experience that gives him pride in his growing abilities. Behavior that reflects this--I'm inclined to agree with Dr. Sears in his belief that a child who 'feels right acts right'. I fear the unknown: if this isn't a good situation for him, then what. I suppose I take him out and homeschool him. On the theory that not only does he need more time to mature before he can be expected to single out and attend to a single voice in a distracting atmosphere, but there needs to be some time to wipe the slate clean for a fresh start. A chance to rest those undeveloped muscles and bones that he's been forced to walk on prematurely. Undo some damage.
BUT, what if maturity *isn't* at the heart of the reason he's not thriving in school? THEN what? This is a potentially prolonged period of stepping out in faith and already I'm hearing some mutterings from the gallery. We've all heard stories of people who persisted in the truth, even when everyone else was swimming against them. Sometimes it took years for the truth to become apparent to everyone, bringing vindication to the people who'd had only themselves to sustain them. I'm not sure I have the fire in my belly it would take to last over a long haul.
I read back over Kevin Kelly's essay for some inspiration. I can see that I am definitely in the kindee stance: needy, helpless, afraid. The Gift isn't a one-time event and then 'happily ever after'. It's not about never feeling needy, helpless and afraid again.
"How will the miracle happen today?"
Well, back to the other job of the kindee-- to be vulnerable and helpless, waiting (and I hate waiting) in (shaky) trust. Yeah, my trust is riddled with holes, but I AM new at this.
Scott had his first week of 1st grade at the new school last week. Reports from Billy on 'how he did' were uneven but largely positive. However, he's just instituted a 'responsibility chart' that identifies 4 levels of responsibility and commensurate privileges. Yesterday when I arrived for pick-up he was talking with the students about assigning them seats. Scott transfers in and within a couple of days these behavioral curbs are put into place...halfway through the school year and now there's a need? Coincidence? I'll ask on Friday. At pickup yesterday when I asked how Scott had done Billy hesitated before answering. I noted that Scott had moved up a level on the responsibility chart which Billy acknowledged but I got the impression that achieving that level did not necessarily mean a smooth upward glide. He said something about "he's not where I want him to be yet" or something like that. On the drive home Scott says he had a good day.
Instantly my waiting-for-the-other-show-to-drop persona asserts itself and I'm fearing the worst (spitting in the eye of god?). I sent an e-mail to Billy asking the nature of Scott not being-where-Billy-wants-him-to-be. I shared my fear that maybe his educational experience was off to a bad start by virtue of having really been unready for a classroom setting. Perhaps he'd had insufficient skills in self-regulation and expecting him to learn in a room full of distractions is akin to expecting a baby to walk before the development of bones and muscle are complete. Perhaps deformity has resulted...?
Billy responded with an e-mail suggesting we have a conference, with Scott, on Friday after school. I've agreed, and I'm apprehensive.
My biggest fear is that Scott won't succeed, I guess. Success defined as developing a love of learning, and a classroom experience that gives him pride in his growing abilities. Behavior that reflects this--I'm inclined to agree with Dr. Sears in his belief that a child who 'feels right acts right'. I fear the unknown: if this isn't a good situation for him, then what. I suppose I take him out and homeschool him. On the theory that not only does he need more time to mature before he can be expected to single out and attend to a single voice in a distracting atmosphere, but there needs to be some time to wipe the slate clean for a fresh start. A chance to rest those undeveloped muscles and bones that he's been forced to walk on prematurely. Undo some damage.
BUT, what if maturity *isn't* at the heart of the reason he's not thriving in school? THEN what? This is a potentially prolonged period of stepping out in faith and already I'm hearing some mutterings from the gallery. We've all heard stories of people who persisted in the truth, even when everyone else was swimming against them. Sometimes it took years for the truth to become apparent to everyone, bringing vindication to the people who'd had only themselves to sustain them. I'm not sure I have the fire in my belly it would take to last over a long haul.
I read back over Kevin Kelly's essay for some inspiration. I can see that I am definitely in the kindee stance: needy, helpless, afraid. The Gift isn't a one-time event and then 'happily ever after'. It's not about never feeling needy, helpless and afraid again.
"How will the miracle happen today?"
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