I've been busy. So much stuff. I wanted to come back and write more on my last post, but life moved on, and I have nothing else to say about it... So, here's just a quick update:
Sportsman's Expo: I met Molly, an award winning fly fisher(wo)man. She invited me to a workshop where I met other women who loved fly fishing. She taught me how to cast better. That was awesome. Mostly it just felt so healing to meet other women that like the stuff I like. I felt less alone in the world.
I also won a guided fly-fishing trip to a private resort a few hours away from me. I've never won anything before, and I'm excited to go on a guided trip. MY guide. Someone who has the job to teach me and help me enjoy the trip. It feels overwhelming. Cool. And overwhelming.
$150,000 Steinway: I played it. I might need one. Justin promised he'd buy me one if he ever became a millionaire. I'm looking forward to that.
A wedding: I went to my cousin's wedding reception, and I didn't even scream or pull my own hair out. I think I'm making progress... I still hate weddings though. A lot. Didn't realize until just now that ever since going to the wedding, I've had a resurgence of body memory pain and nightmares... at least I know WHY it's been more intense the past few days, which makes me feel a little better that it will pass.
Next to Normal: Justin and I went to a performance of the musical Next to Normal. Ummm... Intense. It's all about a woman with a mental illness, and her and her family trying to cope and make sense of their world, and create a life that is "next to normal".
I wanted to find a good video to post, but I couldn't decide on a favorite song so, just check out the whole thing... Never mind. I changed my mind. Check it all out, but start with this song:
(I loved this one, because she described exactly how I felt... and then the husband was trying to help, and he didn't even know that he was making it worse... and then the "son" shows up, and he holds the keys to healing her. He is her own visions, but without facing him, she will never get better. And incidentally, neither will her husband.)
And then maybe this one:
(I liked this one because that's what a broken brain feels like. A vision that shows up that both hurts and heals. "If you try to deny me, I'll never die. I'm alive." That's what happens if you don't face your demons... they get bigger and louder and they develop a life of their own.
I went through a lot of emotions. They did a good job portraying intense emotions, loneliness, craziness, codependency, pain, and grief. I felt angry at the husband. I felt angry at her therapist. I just wanted to yell at them, "Don't you understand, you're trying to help, but you're making it worse!" I felt sadness for the daughter and the husband. I laughed at the craziness of trying to find medications and other treatments to make emotions and painful memories disappear. I felt helpless for everyone involved, because no one knows what to do. I felt hopeful for the characters in the play, and for the whole world. Having musicals like this one, showing the pain and taking away the secrecy that shrouds mental illness is the only way to "cure" the illness. EVERYONE is affected by our society's inability to cope with grief and pain.
My favorite line was:
"The more you hold to something you've already lost the more you fear losing it."
I've been thinking on this line ever since:
The more you hold on to something you've already lost, the more you fear losing it, so you hold on even tighter. The fear and the holding on is crippling... but you don't see that it is the fear that is crippling you... And then, one day, you finally realize, you're only holding on to an illusion, so you let go, and you feel free.
I've heard people say, "If you love someone, let them go," but really that's just an illusion. The truth is: loving someone doesn't make them belong to you. And if they were never yours, how can you let them go?
There's been a blog post waiting to happen for a long time. Dane at Agitating Faithfully asked for submissions two years ago. I told him I would love to write something. I haven't yet. I don't know if he is even still looking. Today I was reading a post at Surely You're Not Serious, and now I'm writing. Warning, it's not a happy post. It's not positive about the church. And I need to share this.
In 2007, every couple of weeks, I'd get a call asking me to come in to talk to the bishop. He'd ask how I was doing, and for the first six months or so, I wouldn't answer him... The first time I opened up to him, I shared something about how I felt worth less because I was a girl... He asked me to write him an email to tell him why I thought that.
"Hi. So, here goes. I don't know what I'm going to write... I can't remember a time when I didn't feel like I was worth less because I was a female. Its hard to say where that came from. I can't imagine not feeling this way."
I then went on to list my history. How I felt about watching my parents together. How I felt when I started dating. About the EQ President in the back of the car... I couldn't tell him no, because I didn't have the right. Then about Larry. It amazes me how aware I was without being aware at all...
"My next boyfriend eventually became my first husband. We were married in the temple, but he never went back to the temple after we were married. Our wedding night was the worst night of my life, and the rest of the marriage wasn't much better. I was the wife, and I didn't have much choice when he wanted sex. I could not stop him, although I tried many times.
I wanted to do a lot of great things with my life. I was in school, working two jobs, and I was also doing public speaking. Larry informed me he was having an affair, and the bishop said it was my fault. A good wife would be home making her husband happy. I couldn't quit work, because someone had to make money, but I did pull back and quit a lot of the other things that I loved. The bishop congratulated me on being a good woman, and said I should be willing to do what Larry asked. He was the leader of the home, and I should let him lead and never question him."
I wrote about how relieved I was and how I finally felt happy after Larry left... but I was supposed to get married again... So I did.
I wrote about how I felt like I was wrong if my thoughts didn't match my husband's. I wrote about how I wanted to be a good woman, but I also hated the way that felt. I wrote about how hard I tried to be good and righteous, but the harder I tried, the darker I felt inside. I wrote about what it felt like to ask for priesthood blessings, but be told I wasn't worthy... That the healing power was there, but I had to ask a man for that power. And that man decided when or if he would share. I wrote about the temple and how although I made the commitment to "hearken to my husband", sometimes I just couldn't make myself do that. I wrote about being called to be a Sunday School teacher by his first counselor.
"I couldn't take on one more thing, but I had no choice. The (counselor in the bishopric) refused to accept my, "thank you, but no," because the calling came from God. It didn't matter what I wanted, what I desperately needed, or what I thought. A man I barely knew got more say in my life than I did."
I got released the next week, but even that... I had to write a really long and painful email to a man I barely knew, and HE still got to decide that it was okay if I didn't want to teach Sunday School.
I felt desperate. I wanted so badly to be a healthy human being. I met with the bishop and just kept asking questions. He helped me start therapy.
I KNEW that the church would have the answers to my questions. I searched and searched and searched. There was nothing. NOTHING that answered my questions. Pretty much everything I found just created more questions. More feelings of worthlessness. More confusion.
In therapy, we were talking about rights... so I searched "women's rights" on lds.org.
I found information on the Equal Rights Amendment. They fought AGAINST equal rights for women. They said that women being treated as equals in this country would destroy families: it would be the downfall of society. How could men of God say that? How could God let them stand up in conference and fight against what was good for me? How could what was good for women be bad for families? Where was God in all this??
One night I read an article in the Ensign. This quote threw me into one of the deepest funks I've ever had,
"When it comes to sexuality, some wives become very concerned about their “rights,” often speaking of their “right” to say no and yes. But marriage is also a relationship of responsibility and
opportunity. In marriage, both partners have the opportunity to give. I believe few wives sense the degree of frustration
and alienation husbands feel when a wife ignores his needs. I believe a wise and loving Heavenly Father has given a wife
the ability to achieve oneness with her husband. The key is
unselfishness."
I lived with a husband who raped me every night, although at the time I couldn't use that word. When I tried to use that word (rape) with my Stake President, and the Stake Relief Society President, they gave the same response. "A man can't rape his wife. They're MARRIED. She was his, and it was her responsibility to give him what he wanted when he wanted it." I knew why they thought what they thought... They read it in the Ensign.
Boyd K. Packer had the worst to say. He quoted a letter from a woman,
"I'm upset that I was always advised to go back and try harder
only to get abused more. I need some comfort, I need solace, need hope,
need to know Heavenly Father sees all that I have endured. What hope do
I have for a chance to live with Heavenly Father? If temple marriage is
the key to the celestial [kingdom], where am I? Outside gnashing my teeth
for eternity? Help me."
When I read her words, I felt some relief. There was another woman asking the same questions. Feeling the same pain. Making the same desperate pleas that I felt. And she had a listening ear. He would answer her questions and I would get my answers.
"The woman pleading for help needs to see the eternal nature of things
and to know that her trials -- however hard to bear -- in the eternal scheme
of things may be compared to a very, very bad experience in the second
semester of the first grade. She will find no enduring peace in the feminist
movement. There she will have no hope. If she knows the plan of redemption,
she can be filled with hope."
It wasn't the answer I was praying for... but I guess I learned how to feel anger, and I learned that I could not look to the church for the help I needed. Packer was WRONG. and to tell a woman to go back to abuse, because no matter how much it hurts it's just a childish pain... that man has no idea what he is talking about... or if he does, then he is just plain evil. I HOPE he is just ignorant, or hasn't thought about the things he says, and that is why he says such devastatingly harmful things.
The feminist movement is nothing but women asking for rights... women asking to be treated as equals... women asking to stop being abused... If the church's only answer for abuse is to endure, then the ONLY hope for everyone will be found somewhere else...
I'm going to stop now... I thought about researching... going back and reading all of the things I read back then, but it is STILL so maddening, I can't do it. I don't want that stuff taking space in my life anymore. So... feel free to go to lds.org and research the terms I researched back then. "women's rights", "gender roles", "saying no", "healthy relationships", "abuse", "young women lessons", and a bunch more that I can't remember.
Back to my story.
Time passed. I'd dealt with a lot of stuff in therapy, and on my own. I'd faced PTSD flashbacks and nightmares and months without sleep. I couldn't stand being in my home, because I had a husband there. Husband represented abuse. I couldn't relax with him near. I was miserable trying to force myself to stay with him. I stayed with BJ and looked for my own apartment... Bishop C didn't want me to get comfortable away from my husband, because it was more important that I stay married. He was worried if I felt safe and comfortable without a husband, I would get a divorce... Bishop C thought I should only move into an apartment that wouldn't be comfortable. BJ talked to him. I talked to him. BJ pleaded with him. I called him on the phone while wandering the streets and sobbing while curled up underneath a trailer. Finally, he gave his okay that I live in an apartment where I felt safe. He actually volunteered to have the church help pay my rent for a few months. I lived in my own place for the next year before I finally decided I needed a divorce. It was the only way I was going to recover. I couldn't go back to being a wife, because wife symbolized something I never wanted to be again.
Everyone was okay with my divorce... they let me say that I didn't want to EVER be a wife again... until the divorce was finalized. In therapy one day, my therapist was talking about future relationships,
possibly marriage... I told him I didn't believe in marriage.
He told me that was because I hadn't known a healthy marriage.
In
exasperation I cried, "ALL marriages are codependent, and I refuse to
be in a codependent relationship... Can you show me ONE marriage that
is not codependent?"
"Heavenly Father and Heavenly Mother."
Me: Really? You have to go all the way to the top?
And really? You want Heavenly Mother to be my example of how I should live my life? Her children don't even know she exists. They aren't allowed to even know her name, or to speak to her. And some have been cut off from the church for speaking too much of her.
Him: Its for her protection.
Me:
If I said I needed that kind of protection from a man, you'd freak
out... You'd tell me how strong I am, and how I can take care of myself,
and... so WHY does a Goddess need that kind of protection?
Him: Maybe she doesn't need or want to be mentioned.
Me:
How is THAT healthy? I'm pretty sure you pushed me to be different
than that. In fact when I tried to suggest that I didn't need or want
people to know me... you told me I needed to find a new therapist,
because you wouldn't help me to be that "indiscriminately
self-sacrificing".
Him: Yes. Well. Umm. Maybe you just need to pray about that...
Me:
Maybe I do, or maybe... You're wrong. And the "proper" example of
marriage IS a very codependent one. Maybe I have been right all along
about what women are supposed to be, or at least what it says in the
scriptures about how a woman should be...
And then I went off.
And what kind of a mother doesn't want to be mentioned to her children? What kind of a mother is okay sitting back and watching Dad do everything? What kind of a mother watches her daughters suffer and question so much, but is okay with Dad being the only one they can talk to? What kind of a mother sits back while Dad writes scriptures about powerful men, but nothing about powerful women? What kind of a mother allows her daughters to go through this world without her? What kind of a mother is okay with the idea that the only purpose for her daughters' lives is to have children? What kind of a mother or a father would EVER perpetuate so much of these crazy gender roles and unhealthy relationships? I don't believe in that kind of a God or Goddess. I can't. I don't know what I do believe anymore, but I know I think this is a bunch of shit.
I started referencing all of the articles I'd read. I started showing him all of the things I'd learned about women and rights from the church. I showed him what the church said about abuse. The things they say to victims of spousal abuse... nothing... except "repent and forgive". I realized how DEEP these issues go. To my very core... I had written an email four years earlier talking about how I felt worth less because I was born a girl, but I couldn't put my finger on WHY... It's what I was taught... And I could finally see things clearly... I could see ME clearly....
I have to stop writing again. There's just SO MUCH that I could write about. All of the things that bishops and stake presidents and teachers and leaders and books and lessons said... I feel overwhelmed with the sadness and the anger. I can't put it all in words. I could write pages and pages and still... people would dismiss my experiences and the things I've felt... BJ says I think about things more than most. I try to live what I hear more than most. I believe what people say more than most. I don't know if that's true... I just know that I tried to live what I learned, and what I learned broke me.
I may come back and try to edit this post at a later date... add more to it... until then, your thoughts are always appreciated.
My symphony concert was a couple weeks ago... I wanted to post this that night, but BJ filmed it with his phone, and neither one of us could figure out how to get it from his phone to my Youtube account... At least until yesterday...
I was on a "music high" (if there is such a thing). It was SO SO SO fun to be a part of this.
I just feel happy inside playing and remembering playing. I'm also way excited that I finally got to see the dancers.
The question wasn't meant to be a deep one... What's his name?
His name is Sunny. Full name: Sun's Golden Reay.
Wow. I've never even thought about his name...
He came with that name, and he came in one of the darkest moments of my life. Taught me how to ask for what I need. Taught me it was okay to trust. Taught me it was okay to feel fear and sometimes to run away from the fear. Taught me to just BE. I reconnected with the lower half of my body while riding him. And when the pain was so great, I thought I would die, he seemed to just absorb it.
Sensory Overload posted about dragonflies and what they symbolize. (okay, that's not really what she was posting about. She posted about change and life and mentioned the symbolism of dragonflies.)
I like the symbolism, and it reminded me of this picture. So, I'm sharing it.
It was taken almost three years ago. I was at church. Something that was said really upset me, and if I remember right, I literally RAN outside. I stood there, crying... Why couldn't I be happy in church? What was wrong with me? Why couldn't I just sit there like everyone else? Why did the silly and messed up things people said affect me? Why couldn't I just agree with them? Why didn't I get the life where cliches about happiness and trials made sense? Why did I get the life where I knew that it didn't work out quite as nicely as the "soundbites" I heard at church? Why the hell was THIS my life? And what was I supposed to do about it?
And then this beautiful dragonfly landed on me.
A lot has changed since that day. Was it symbolic?
Story 1:
Sunny (the horse) has recently figured out how to open gates. He unlatches them with his lips and pushes them open. I THOUGHT I'd fixed it by moving the latch thingy to the outside of the gate... The other day, while eating breakfast, I noticed the horses were not in the backyard and the gate was open.
It took five minutes to find him. He was in the neighbors' hay barn.
I have now met some of my human neighbors. I was well acquainted with the cows, goats, and the alpaca, but I didn't want to meet the humans. I was afraid of them. I knew at some point, they were going to ask me if I was LDS, and I wasn't sure how to answer that question... Bill, the neighbor, asked. I said, "no", and he just said, "That's okay. Most people aren't. Are you liking it here?"
Then we talked about good trails that I haven't tried yet. A good place to buy hay, and he told stories about when his calves all escaped their pasture. "You haven't really had animals until they've gotten out and you've had to deal with that."
Story 2:
The snow and cold have made it so I can't really enjoy riding in the mountains. (Although between a good quality duster and the lack of snow, I went out until the beginning of January. Which is AWESOME!)
I've been taking Sunny to the arena to ride him and work with him. I enjoy the arena, but I get really anxious when there are other people around. I feel like I'm going to do something wrong and the people will think I am a loser and shouldn't be riding a horse. (Falling off the horse doesn't scare me. But what people think of me does.) I don't like working with Sunny if there is someone else there... even though I understand that they may or may not know more than me. I also would LOVE for feedback if someone knows more than I do... My anxiety comes from thinking they are thinking something, but not saying it.
Story 3:
I've been working with Sunny on transitions (changing speeds). I barely even have to THINK the word "trot", and Sunny is trotting. The most imperceptible shift in my saddle and he's running. Unfortunately, he's not so good at slowing down or walking. Although I understand the benefits, the work seems tedious to me. I'd much rather just run.
Story 4:
I've only been riding for a little more than three years, and I've never had any sort of formal lesson. I've read books. I've spent a lot of time observing horses and riders, and I've spent A LOT of time in the saddle. Mostly, there's something about horses that just feels intuitive to me.
Today, as we were leaving the arena, I needed to push the button to close the livestock door. At first, I was trying to use all of the "right" signals to get him to step sidewise to get next to it. He was throwing his head (In Sunny language that means, "I don't understand what you are asking me to do!") I stopped, took a deep breath, and instead of trying to impress all of the people around me... I just told him what I wanted. Literally. I said, "I need to get over to that button, can you get me there?"
And he did it.
I don't know if he understood my words; if we communicated telepathically; or if it was just coincidence... I do know that every time I get clear on what I want him to do, he pretty much does it.
Unfortunately, there's a lot of confusion inside me. I WANT to just run. I understand the power of working on transitions and practicing going slower, but I don't want to do it. He gets mixed messages.
I'm trying to impress people... I can't imagine a horse would understand the message, "I want those people to think I'm awesome, so do whatever it takes to make them think that." He throws his head and acts confused.
I love that horse for the things he's taught me about balance and centering myself. I love him for the things he's taught me about communication, intention, and asking for what I want. I love him for all the lessons he's taught me about fear. I love that horse for the way he helps me see me.
I'd like to thank my sister, who campaigned on facebook for me. This
is just another example of how awesome she is!
(But I won't pretend
there wasn't a day filled with anxiety after she posted the link on her
wall... I really did sit here on blogger and refresh the "stats" page.
over. and over. and over. and tried to figure out who was coming to
visit my blog, because I was worried what people were going to think or
say or feel when they read my stuff. Nothing to worry about... Besides
the fact that I can handle it when people don't approve of me: I still
got all positive and loving responses.)
In a conversation with a friend. What she said was, "I wish he would stop judging me. I feel like he thinks everything I do is bad."
My question, "Why does it matter what he thinks?"
Her answer, "I just miss the way it felt when he thought I was good."
And then it hit me:
For so long, I SAID I didn't want people to judge me, but the truth was I NEEDED them to judge me. I needed them to judge me and find me "good". Although I hated their disapproval, their approval was too important to me to give up "being judged".
I'm not sure when the change happened, but it came to a point when I decided I didn't care what other people thought. I didn't need or even want other people's approval anymore. I just wanted to live my own life. Amazing things started happening. I don't NEED compliments. I don't NEED people to tell me I'm doing a good job. I don't NEED anyone else to tell me I'm good... And the "negative" stuff doesn't stick like it used to either. Life is a lot more peaceful.
"Everytime they got a star, it made them feel SO good, they wanted to do more things to get more stars."
"Some couldn't do those things. They got dots."
"One day he met a Wemmick unlike all the others. She had NO stickers. People tried to give her stars and dots, but they wouldn't stick."
"That's how I want to be!"
"The stickers only stick if you let them. The stickers only stick if they matter to you."
In November 2007, I pretty much came to the conclusion that I was done. Done living. Done trying. Done pretending. Done. Done. Done. That translated to an eating disorder: Starving myself and over-exercising was a way to end my life in the most painful and slow way possible. I didn't even deserve a quick and painless death...
I had gone to treatment in 1997, and I saw how the women treated each other: Competing for who could be the "sickest", berating those that ate, being fed via tube up the nose was a "badge of honor". I didn't want to be in that environment again, but in January 2008, I started to wonder if that was my best choice.
On the one hand, I knew how to eat. I knew what to eat. I just didn't want to. I had done it before: Forced myself to eat because it was what I had to do, because it made other people happy, because there was no other choice... but I didn't want that life anymore. I felt like my choices were either to die, or to somehow find a way to want to live. I wasn't sure if anyone could really help ME... but... I chose to give it a shot.
On February 18, 2008, I checked myself into Center for Change.
Going inpatient to CFC meant turning my WHOLE LIFE over to other people. They tell you when to eat (and what to eat, and what happens if you don't eat everything they tell you to eat), sleep, go to the bathroom, everything. Your whole day is scheduled out to the minute. They tell you what you can talk about, what you can't talk about, what you HAVE to talk about. They ask you to share your deepest, darkest, hardest parts to share, about yourself. There is no such thing as a private life in treatment. (You even get people standing outside the bathroom door with it cracked open.) It sucks. Even if it is totally necessary, it SUCKS!
I knew it was going to be hard work. I knew there was a lot of things I had to face and changes I'd need to make, but at the same time I had no fucking clue. I feel pretty lucky that I had the opportunity to go to a safe place to do the work that had to be done. They took care of the business of keeping me alive, so that I could put everything I had into healing myself. I know how RARE that opportunity is. (Only 1 in 10 people who have eating disorders get to go to treatment. Most are sent home LONG before they have had the chance to face the problems that caused the eating disorder in the first place.)
There are so many powerful experiences I could share. Here are just a few:
The women I met there
I was afraid I'd have another experience like the one in 1997, but I had nothing to be worried about. I went at the exact right moment: With the most intensely beautiful, strong, amazing women on the planet. Fighters with huge loving hearts. The fact that most of them had survived their lives was a miracle to me. Every single one of those women have been through hell, and not just a little bit of hell: HELL!!! Every single person I met there had faced life experiences that "normal" people can't even begin to fathom. Before CFC, I had sat in church, and listening to the women there, I felt jealous at what they called "trials". Sitting with the women at CFC, I felt understood. Finally, not alone.
Petey, the wheelchair Chronic low blood pressure, combined with random drops in blood pressure, combined with anxiety and dissociation, combined with trying to gain a lot of weight in a short amount of time, combined with blood sugar issues, combined with emotional exhaustion, combined with who knows what else - all those things made me so dizzy, I had a hard time walking. I was a "fall risk", so I had to sit in a wheelchair.
I spent months sitting in that wheelchair. I learned to rest. I learned that I didn't always have to push through and push my body past it's breaking point. I learned to take safe risks, and to avoid unsafe risks. I learned to let others help me..
One of the reasons I hated the chair was how much space it took up, but in that chair, I had my own space. For so long, I'd convinced myself that my mere existence was somehow infringing upon other people's space. I'd tried to make myself as small as possible... Since it was my chair, and no one was going to sit in the thing with me, it was okay to take up the whole wheelchair. I relaxed and began to let myself take space.
The assignment to "Stop doing all the things you do to prove to others that you are loveable"
For me, at that moment those things were: Smiling, talking to other people about their problems (not talking about myself), and following all of the rules.
At first, I wanted to please everyone by doing that assignment perfectly... and then I decided that was silliness, because I would still be doing the same damn thing I'd always done: Trying to get other people to love me by doing what they wanted. For the first time, I started thinking about what I wanted. I WANTED to smile, so I did. I WANTED to break the rule of getting out of that stupid wheelchair and walk to the dining room, so I did. Before that day, it had never even occurred to me that I had choices, that I could want something. It was also the first time I ever said "no" to someone in authority. (I was such a rebel. I wouldn't give her my watch when she asked. She didn't know what to do. I felt bad for saying no, and I felt SO GOOD that I could.) It was an eye-opening day for me.
Beating the hell out of a couch cushion in "Care Bear's" group
In group therapy, a friend was sharing an experience she had had with her husband. He had said things to her that were just... awful... and I remembered Larry saying the same kinds of things to me. I told the group that I was angry, but I didn't know what to do with that feeling... Care Bear (therapist) got a tennis racket and a pile of couch cushions and had me hit them. With every hit, I was supposed to say, "I am angry!" like I meant it. That was not an easy thing for me to do. It took me a long time, and a lot of trying before I could say "I am ANGRY!" (It's funny, looking back now, I can see that I was still very restrained, even when I thought I was "out of control" angry. It was just the start of learning to be present with my own emotions.) It was incredibly intense for me, and for others in the group. They still talk about that day in group when Jen finally let go of the some of the anger.
Ceremonial Group: Standing before a jury of my peers, I had to convince them that I was bad
I had believed my whole life that I was worthless and unlovable and "no-good", but I couldn't tell you WHY I thought that. In a court, there has to be evidence, so the assignment was to lay out my evidence to the women there. I shared the most painful things that had happened to me. I shared the worst things I had ever thought. I KNEW that they would hate me, but they didn't. To this day, only BJ and that group have heard some of those thoughts... Because of the way those select few responded, I'm not afraid of myself anymore. Those women gave me the courage to face the "worst" parts about myself, and let me know it was okay to love me. Pretty much changed my life.
RAD (Rape Aggression Defense) training
I wasn't allowed to do the training, which was okay by me, because just watching OTHER people do it caused panic attacks, dissociation, flashbacks, and generally awful days. As awful as it was, watching my friends go through the training, helped me face my own past. Going through flashbacks and panic is AWFUL, but it was necessary for me to heal. By facing my past, it stopped having the control over me.
I still have the plan to take a RAD class sometime. The final day includes a simulation: Men "attack" you. You use your voice, your body, everything you've learned to get them off and to get away. I'd like to be able to do that. (Still don't think I'm ready for it. I'm shaking just thinking about it.)
DBT (Dialectical Behavior Therapy) "Non-judgmental stance"
I learned that things aren't "good" and "bad". Things just are. There aren't good people and bad people. There aren't good emotions and bad emotions. There isn't a right or a wrong. There isn't a should or a should not. Everything just is. Very powerful lesson that helped me to stop being crazy. (I've sat here trying to think of how to say it, but honestly... I was crazy. Trying to put everything into it's little box of "good" or "bad" or some derivative of that, made me insane.) Life is a lot more gentle, peaceful, and happy. There are still times when I get caught up in judging things (mostly myself or my emotions) as "good" or "bad". Then I remember Espra and getting pillows thrown at me. (I know that last sentence won't make sense to most people. But in group, if you said anything that was a judgment: good, bad, right, wrong, should, shouldn't, etc., you got a pillow thrown at you. It was a good way to make me aware of what I was doing. Now I use phrases like, "I prefer" or "I don't like", because that is more effective.)
The "pinky promise prayer"
This one still brings tears of love and joy to my eyes. I'm not sure how long I'd been at CFC at this point. A couple of weeks, maybe? "Bubbles" was a teenager who was a new patient. Her body was failing her, and the group of us sat and watched helpless as the nurses worked to take care of her. Together, we prayed for her and then made a pinky promise that none of us were going to give up the fight with the eating disorder. Eating disorders claim so many lives, but not ours. That night I wrote in my journal: "CFC. At this moment. With these women. Is EXACTLY where I need to be". We've all kept that promise thus far. 1 in 5 people diagnosed with an eating disorder will die. The fact that I don't know anyone who has died from an eating disorder is astounding to me. I know of people who have died: Friends of friends, but no one I know personally. And no one from that group. They're all still fighting like hell, and I love them for it.
There were many times after I left CFC that I just wanted to throw in the towel, and be done. I didn't want to fight for my life anymore. I was so tired. In those moments, I thought of the women in the group, and there was no way I was breaking that promise. There was no way I was going to give them any excuse to give up their fight. That promise I made to them, and that we made to each other has saved my life more than once.
Sacrament meeting
Since we couldn't leave to go to church, they arranged to have the young men bring the sacrament to us. A small group of women gathered in one of the group rooms. We sang a hymn a'capella. A prayer (and the prayers offered by the women there were the most sincere and beautiful prayers I've ever heard). No talks, but sometimes we'd share thoughts with each other. So much love in that room. If church had felt like that, I probably would have never left.
Your definition of recovery
We were all asked to define what recovery looked like to each of us individually. Mine was, "When I love myself more than I hate myself."
According to that definition, I am recovered, but I think recovery is just life. I keep learning and growing and changing and living. According to that definition, I'm still working for recovery and always will be.
I know that most people won't understand the rest of this list, but to myself and the few that will:
"Love you to pieces"
J and C dancing to "Beat it"
temper tantrums
ripping up phonebooks, throwing ice, throwing pillows
challenge day
NIA
"Let it be okay"
Fedder and Le Freak
music listening
drum circles
arguments about the fireplace or walks
Boost
that nasty bean salad
singing and peeing
"hit snap clap hit hit snap clap"
table manners? what table manners
"Goals change lives"
FNS
Curses
"How is that like your life?"
illegal exercise
the big white van
the race to get out and the race to check back in
scream therapy
"auto" group
the vitals machine
games at the dining room tables
the "f word" wasn't fuck - it was fat
"The voice is no longer hidden in me. I've let go, Now I am free!"
and this:
I'll never hear this song and not think of the dining room, saying goodbye to beautiful women, not knowing where life would take me...it turns out... I like where life has taken me.
And the best part: I REALLY like the girl that I've become.
A friend of mine posted this quote on her facebook wall, and I had a very strong reaction to it.
"I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love." ~Mother Theresa
Love until it hurts? How long do I let him hurt me before I don't care if I live or die, and is THAT love? I guess at that point, I don't care if I die, so I'd jump in front of a bus to save someone else... but I don't think that's a very healthy place... I've been there, and it wasn't a place I'd like to revisit...
Love isn't supposed to hurt: If it hurts, it could be called sacrifice, it could be called pain, it could be called abuse, but not love...
Later, I had another friend share the same quote... Her and I have a relationship where I could tell her I had a strong reaction to that quote, and ask her why she liked it and how it helped her...
She explained sometimes there are processes that hurt. And another friend brought up a situation with her mother's failing health. It hurts to face her mother growing older and losing her independence, and through that process they are learning to love each other in new and different ways...
I realized, I don't see those things as hurting or painful, at least not in comparison to other pains. The process of change is hard... I cry. I feel tired. I wouldn't describe it as hurting. At least not compared to the hurt that I felt BEFORE: The anxiety. The blaming myself for other people's anger. The fear. The rape. The being thrown into the wall. The constant feeling that I wasn't good enough and could never be good enough to deserve people to be kind to me. Feeling constantly compelled to do. All of those things HURT... changing, growing, learning, finding my own strength, facing fears of rejection by letting people get to know ME, being rejected by some, and feeling the love of MANY, ... that feels amazingly, wonderfully, GOOD in comparison.
Being there with a friend who is going through hard times, stressful times, health problems: That's sad, it isn't easy, it's exhausting sometimes, but I am grateful and I don't describe it as painful. (The most difficult part is realizing that I can't fix it. I can't make it all go away. Being with someone's "hard times" forces me to face my humanness. Being human is sometimes painful for me, but I'd rather be with someone as a human than as the robot I used to be. It feels good to be present, even in "painful" situations.) Mostly, having my friends share their journeys with me has felt validating and empowering. "They're doing it too! I am not alone!"
I also recognize that Mother Theresa is a trigger for me: She DID sacrifice herself and her life to other people. She wasn't an example of a balanced person. Her out of balance was very valued and valuable, and that doesn't make it any more balanced. Our world NEEDS people like her, because there are so many people that take and take and take: In order to have balance, we need people who will give and give and give...
For so long, I have felt guilt for not sacrificing everything for everyone else... I still beat myself up for not being as "good" as Mother Theresa... In my "black and white" world, if I am not Mother Theresa, I am selfish. Until I have given everything I have, until I have hurt enough, I have not loved enough.
Loving until it hurts has meant hurting myself. Loving until it hurts has only created pain for me. I'm learning to redefine what it means to hurt. For most people, hurting is: sadness, disappointment, unmet expectations, changing, giving a few dollars to someone else, giving a little (but not everything). I feel sadness that I know pain so deeply. I might feel a little bit jealous. I also might feel a little bit silly, because I created many situations that were painful because I thought that is what love should feel like.
Moving forward, I choose love that is joyful, happy, inspirational, fun, full, complete. I choose love that is accepting and without expectations. I choose love without the pain of guilt, fear, or compulsions. I choose love that feels loving towards myself.
VS 1.
There are days that I remember your eyes, filled with rage as you looked at me. I thought your anger was somehow my fault, and then…I murdered myself. I thought I must have been nothing, but those days are gone, I let go of you and given you back your thorns, and now I finally see, that there’s a Warrior in me!
CHORUS
Everything I am
Everything I know
Everything I see
Everything I’ll be is Inside of Me, Yeah…
Every time I cry
Every time I scream
Every time I love
Every time I sing…Its inside, yeah it’s inside inside of me.
Yeah, you gave me your worst, and I fought with my best, and the Warrior, yeah this Warrior she lives on in me!
VS 2
Yes, you may have broke me. But all you showed me, was just how strong I am the warrior that is me. Yes, you may have cut me, but all that you taught me to see, is that my power to thrive and my will and my drive, and my heart as my guide, will live on eternally. Free to fly, with this Warrior in me!
CHORUS
Now I never thought I could find myself, I could free myself! I always thought I’d be in this pain again and again, locked in myself, chained to these walls, never again to feel any love at all!! But the Warrior, she freed me!
FINAL CHORUS
Everything I am
Everything I know
Everything I see
Everything I’ll be is Inside of Me, Yeah…
Every time I cry
Every time I scream
Every time I love
Every time I sing…It’s inside, yeah it’s inside inside of me.
No, I never thought I could find myself, I would free myself, I fought you on this battleground, Now I was lost now I’m found, Yeah, you gave me your worst, and I fought with my best, and the Warrior, yeah this Warrior, she lives on in me! Yes, this warrior…is ME!
Josh has always seemed to me to be an abusive and controlling person. I've never met the man, so my assessment of him comes from what I've seen on the news, what I've read, and my own experiences.
Abusive people are usually insecure. They are scared of losing anything in life, and channel that fear into trying to control every aspect of their life, including the people in it. They do this through abuse: emotional, physical, sexual, or some combination. When they feel safe and secure, they'll be kind and calm, which can be confusing to their victims. (As long as you do what the abuser wants, they treat you nicely, so it feels as if their treatment of you is a result of the way you act.)Abuse is their response to perceived threats of control being taken away. (To victims: That means they feel threatened when you don't do what they want you to do. That doesn't mean you ARE threatening them, it just means that when they don't have control over you, they feel threatened.) They blame the other person for their fears, but the truth is simply: They feel scared, insecure, and out of control, and they don't know how to deal with those feelings. They compensate for their fears and insecurities by controlling (abusing) the people that they have the easiest control over (generally spouses and/or children).
Observations on Josh:
Susan threatening to leave him would have TERRIFIED him. He would have done everything he could think of to get her to stay. It never would have crossed his mind that maybe she needed to get away from him for her own safety, or that it could be good for her to leave. Abusers see the people in their lives as possessions or extensions of themselves. (If he wanted her to stay, then she needed to stay. In his mind, his thoughts are her thoughts. They are not separate. In an interview two years after her disappearance he said, "She loves me, and I love her, and I don't understand why everyone is trying to alienate her against me." (The following question is based on the assumption that he was telling the truth and didn't murder her and drop her body in the desert.) Does that sound like a rational statement to make two years after she left him?)
The threat of losing his sons was too much for him to handle. He told people he couldn't live without them, and if HE couldn't have them, no one could. Again, it seems he believed that the best thing for them was what he wanted: He couldn't see that they were separate beings with needs and wants and LIVES of their own.
I've seen some blame porn. I think that's silly.
Blaming porn for violent crimes is like blaming food: Before every murder takes place, the murderer eats. Therefore food causes murders. There might be a correlation, but that doesn't prove causality. There are a LOT of people who look at pornography and they never murder their children. I understand that if a man (or woman) ALREADY thinks of people as possessions, looking at pornography could add to the problem. When you look at the world through colored glasses, it doesn't matter what you look at, you will only see that color. (My experience was a man who read the scriptures and felt justified in treating his wife like a piece of property... I think I would have preferred he looked at porn. It would have been easier to sort out what was real and what was his fuckedupedness.)
Obviously Josh Powell is an extreme case, but that doesn't make less extreme cases any less damaging. Just living in an environment where you are thought of and treated as a possession is damaging. It hurts. It is confusing. It erodes self-esteem and self-worth.
I worry that some people will look at the case and think, "My abuser hasn't done anything as bad as THAT," and dismiss their experiences. Josh has been made into a sick monster. I've heard people talk about how evil he is, but look at what his mom, his sister, and even his kids thought of him. They loved him and thought he was sweet and kind and would never hurt anyone. I've written about this before: Abusers are NOT monsters. They look and act and ARE normal people... Normal people with fears and insecurities that rule them and cause them to do whatever they can to control every aspect of their life, including the people in it.
I was reading the book, Who'd You Put Your Panties on for Today? this morning, and feeling frustrated with the author. "This woman is selfish, controlling, and she's driving me crazy!"
I kept reading... mostly because the book was a gift, and I wanted to be able to say nice things about it.
About half way through, she finally said something that warmed me up to her a bit:
"I realized I was putting my panties on for me, and I was expecting everyone else to put their panties on for me too."
Now we're getting somewhere.
In the book up to this point, this woman wanted things perfect. The rug straight. Her children, friends, husband, and family to look and be a certain way. And she thought that by telling them how (and really who) she wanted them to be, she was "putting her panties on for herself". It was a big wakeup call to her when she finally saw things as they are. (She was expecting everyone else to do things her way, and by demanding that she was not taking care of herself like she thought. In reality demanding others to be and do what she wanted was hurting them and herself.)
Redefining selfishness (again):
I used to believe selfish was living my life for myself. That's not true. That's healthy living. Doing EXACTLY what I need and want to do.
Selfish is expecting others to live their life for me.
It is not selfish to take care of myself. It is not selfish to have wants, needs, desires, and to go after them.
It IS selfish to expect others to take care of me. It IS selfish to expect other people to give me my needs, wants, and desires just because I want them. It IS selfish to expect others to sacrifice their wants, needs and desires for mine.
Expressing wants and desires = taking care of myself. Owning my voice.
Expecting others to give me my wants just because I express them = being dependent on another person. Giving them my voice. In this scenario, my voice (sharing my wants, thoughts, desires) is only worth what they give me as a result of my speaking up. If they give me what I want, it was a good thing to ask for what I needed. If they don't, then I shouldn't have asked.
Asking for what I want is NOT about what others do. The part that is important is just saying what I want... it doesn't matter what comes after that.
(By the way, I liked the rest of the book. It was a fun read. Using panties as a way to explain self-care and healthy change. It was like reading her journal - traveling and learning right along with her... I enjoyed that. Plus there's lots of sketches of different types of underwear.)
I've been nominated.
My thoughts on being nominated:
1. That is so cool that someone out there likes what I wrote. (or in one case, likes the title of what I wrote).
2. Oh dear. What will my LDS family think if they knew I was nominated for a Brodie award... Would they be disappointed? Would they be proud?
3. I want to win. But I shouldn't want to win, so I don't want anyone to know I want to win.
4. Jen, stop thinking and go do something fun.
I'm actually in three categories.
Best "Mormon Life Journey" Post (Friends)
Best Post Title (I hate labels, but how else do I explain it?)
Most Interesting Interfaith Interaction (To My Family: Thank you for making me so wrong)
I admit I am very partial to the one about my family. I want everyone to read it. I want every single person who has loved ones leave the church to make it as much of a non-issue as my family has.
For those interested, here's where you can vote: Poll: 2011 Brodies. (And in the words of a friend, "I don't expect a vote if you find that a competing article was more to your liking," but I do like votes, so...)
I'm sick. The antibiotics I'm on knocked me out more than the sickness... so, I've spent the last two days barely moving from my couch. This is how I feel about it:
Many years ago. Still a kid. Zack (little bro - I'm guessing like nine-ish at the time) decided he could NOT go to school that day. His diagnosis: cabin fever, and it was darn right ludicrous to think that a kid could go to school with cabin fever. My mom conceded, and all five of us stayed home.
We spent a good portion of the day memorizing this song. It was awesome, and STILL one of my favorite memories.
I got to visit with a very nice doctor today.
It turns out I have a kidney infection. I pretty much knew that before I met with the nice man. Two weeks ago, I couldn't have told you where exactly the kidney is located. I sure could now.
Sitting in the doctor's office, I felt anxious.
I was aware of one source: They expect me to lay down on my back and let Dr. Dude touch me. That causes some panic.
I was not aware of the rest of it until he started asking me questions.
Pain here? Yes.
Pain there? Yes.
Nausea? Yes.
Fever? Yes.
Energy level? I just want to sit on the couch and not move.
Have you done that? No.
You've had these symptoms for a week? Yes. Yes I have.
What was going through my head as he was asking?
"I've already peed in the cup. He KNOWS there's nothing wrong with me. He thinks I'm being dramatic, I'm weak, I can't handle a little bit of normal pain. He's wondering why I even came here..."
And then he told me I have a kidney infection. The urine sample let him know I had an infection. It turns out he asked the other questions NOT because he thought I was weak, but because he wanted to know how bad the infection was. He wanted to know how much antibiotics I would need to get rid of it.
Oh. I think funny.
I was afraid of being a hypochondriac. I was afraid I was being weak - that I could have just taken care of this myself. This isn't the first time I've had to say to myself (or others have had to say to me):
"You're so afraid of being THAT extreme that you are the other extreme."
You'd think I'd be used to this kind of realization, but I'm not. It still catches me off guard and strikes me as funny... One day. One day, I'll find the middle and I'll be comfortable there.
***Unrelated except for that it happened at the doctor's office:
They put me on the scale today. First time I've been on a scale in several years. Interesting to note, my weight hasn't changed. It is still right where it was when the dietitian gave me the thumbs up. There is a remnant of the voice that says, "That's not the right number!" (There was a time when it wouldn't have mattered WHAT the number was, it would have been too big and too small all at the same time.) That voice is quieter today. Much quieter, and far less persistent than it used to be. Mostly, I don't even care. It really has become just another number that doesn't mean anything to me. Which is awesome.
I felt like sharing pictures of my house, so I am:
This was a few days ago. It was foggy, and the fog froze on everything. EVERYTHING was completely coated.
It's kind of magical.
My favorite.
Cool. Huh?
This all slid off in the afternoon, so I only got to see this coolness for a few hours. (Incidentally, the neighbors barn and yard look like a painting. I live in a beautiful place!)
"Jen, where's the grain??? The hay is fine, but we want GRAIN." I was out. I forgot to buy more. They hung out waiting for a while...
Oh, and aren't Sunny's spots cool?? He only has those in the winter. (Sunny's the palomino. Bo, the paint, has those spots year round. :) )
Emily opens the book standing in front of a mirror in the temple. She looks at her own reflections and asks the questions, "How and when had I so willingly and completely abdicated the throne of my own life? And much more importantly why? When had I vanished into thin air?"
The rest of the book explains the life events, teachings, ideas, thoughts, etc, that got her to that decision... and then continues her story from there.
She reminded me of my friend Teffy. You could put the two of them in a room together, and they'd tell tragic, traumatic and horribly sad stories, and they'd have you rolling on the floor laughing until you pee. I don't know how they do it.
Big moments in the book for me:
Her panic and fear of all the people who were going to be burned in the last day. She was TERRIFIED that her friends would suffer.
I had panic attacks and fear of the second coming from the earliest I can remember. I was afraid to watch people suffer - I hoped I would be dead before Christ came, because maybe I wouldn't see all the suffering. The idea of being lifted up on a cloud while the "wicked" burned made me sick. I thought it would be far better to be burned than to sit and watch.
Her fear of evil spirits.
I was convinced my evil spirits had been my best friends. I knew them. I loved them, and now I couldn't decide if I was supposed to save them or run from them... I was so afraid of doing or thinking anything even slightly "wrong", because I was terrified of the devil and his minions. I felt them all around me. All the time. There was actually a ward fast once to help cast out the evil spirits within me. The fast didn't work, but finally just letting go of the fear and the guilt that had driven me my whole life - that got rid of all of them. None of them have bothered me for a couple of years.
The way she thought about herself, her body, and sex... And how she came to know WHY she felt that way... and the healing that she had to go through.
At this point in the book, I turned to BJ. I thanked him for just being with me while I curled up on the floor. In INTENSE pain. For hours and hours a day for months and months. NO sleep. No relief. I could have done it alone, and I think I would have...AND It was sure nice having someone there.
Her eating disorder.
She never uses the words, "eating disorder", but I have spent many months in treatment for starving myself for the very same reasons she starved herself. She wanted to die, but she wasn't allowed to kill herself, but maybe... If she just stopped eating, "God would be so kind as to take me home."
Her depression. And the way she pushed through it, so that most of the time, nobody really even know how desperately she longed for death.
Her feelings about the priesthood and blessings...
WHAT A RELIEF that I wasn't the only one that was a blessing junky, and for the same reasons. I can't know if my thoughts are from God or Satan, but if I get a blessing, they are speaking for God... I can trust these mens' voices over my own. Except when I know what they are saying just isn't right... How do I reconcile that? And then one day realizing that I don't NEED a man to put his hands on my head to tell me what to do. I KNOW what I need, who I am, and what step to take next. I don't believe in priesthood blessings anymore, and that is a HUGE relief. (Except that I do believe there is power in belief and power in touch, and combine the two there IS a power.)
Her reasons for getting married. Her reasons for dating. Her reasons for every decision:
I spent my whole life trying to get people to love me, because I didn't love me, and I needed to feel loved. Neither one of us was strong enough to protect ourselves from some pretty awful predators, so we were hurt over and over and over... until... one day... we each just figured it out.
I loved so much about this book. My favorite line was at the end of the book.
"You are a part of me and I am a part of you. There is no distinction between us. You already live in my heart and there is nothing you can ever do to change that. You can never be separate from me. Ever. It's impossible, And by the way, if you still insist on knowing who your eternal companion is, well guess what? It's you."
As a side note, I never read Eat, Pray, Love, but I did read Committed (the follow-up to her freakishly successful book), and I loved it. I read it when I was first trying to define relationships and love... She gave me a ton to think about. She thought outside of the box I was raised in, which helped me to really decide what I thought and what I felt.
I find myself repeating ideas from her book often.
"There is hardly a more gracious gift that we can offer somebody than to accept them fully, to love them."
The following is a quote at the end of the chapter where she talks about Marriage and Expectations. She was interviewing the Hmong women. She asked them a ton of questions about their husbands and marriage, and they didn't understand her questions. One woman finally told her that there was no such thing as a "good husband" or a "bad husband"... There were just husbands and wives and marriages. Everything just is.
"We Americans often say that marriage is 'hard work.' I'm not sure the Hmong would understand this notion. Life is hard work, of course and WORK is very hard work - I'm quite certain they would agree with those statements - but how does marriage become hard work? Here's how: Marriage becomes hard work once you have poured the entirety of your life's expectations for happiness into the hands of one mere person. Keeping that going is hard work....
This is exactly what I myself have expected in the past from love and this is what I was now preparing to expect all over again with Felipe - that we should somehow be answerable for every aspect of each others' joy and happiness. That our very job description as spouses was to be each others' everything.
So I had always assumed, anyhow.
And so I might have gone on blithely assuming, except that my encounter with the Hmong had knocked me off course in one critical regard: For the first time in my life, it occurred to me that perhaps I was asking too much of love. Or, at least, perhaps I was asking too much of marriage. Perhaps I was loading a far heavier cargo of expectation onto the creaky old boat of matrimony than that strange vessel had ever been built to accommodate in the first place."
This second quote is a BIG one for me. WHY is marriage (and love and relationships) "hard work"?
Because we have so many expectations of what the other person should be. Because we have so many expectations of how the relationship should look. Because we want that other person to be everything for us, so we put our happiness in their hands, and they put it their happiness in ours... It's a lot of work to be responsible for someone else's happiness.
It isn't nearly as hard to be responsible for my happiness... To take care of myself... and then to just enjoy time spent with those I love. No expectations. (I always need to say the following though, because sometimes when I start telling myself not to have expectations, I think that means take whatever shit the other person dishes out... But that's not what I'm saying... There is always the ability to redefine and change the relationship, and even leave it behind if it is not a healthy place to be.)
I don't think relationships are hard work... unless the hard work is that everyday I seek to know and love myself... to learn all that I can about me... that's hard. That sucks sometimes, but it is so much easier than the "hard" I experienced in relationships in the past... Being abused and hurt and trying to control others, which in turn hurt them... THAT was hard. THAT hurt.
This wasn't exactly where I was planning on going with this post... I just really liked watching the video of Liz Gilbert, and that got me thinking about the book, and I wanted to share what I'd learned from it... I think it's way cool that I read the book years ago, and many of the thoughts she expressed have now become a part of me. That is the awesomeness of books!
I hesitate to write this, because... well, I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings, but the thing is... that's kind of why I need to. I'm so damn scared of hurting people's feelings that I just keep on trying to take care of them in obnoxious ways that make me crazy. hmmmph.
The past few weeks, I've branched out. Spent more time with new friends. It's cool.
Here's the struggle I'm running in to:
I get to a point where I'm done, and I want to go home, but I can't figure out how to say that... So I stay. The biggest downside to that is then when someone invites me out again, I feel anxious and don't want to go. Lacking the ability to say what I want, makes me feel trapped... which makes me want to go spend time with the horses who demand nothing from me...
This problem is miniscule compared to the way I used to be, and... it's still the same problem I have always had. I feel like it's my job to take care of everyone else's feelings. I feel like in order to be nice and kind, I can't express what I want. I have to stay far longer than I want to, because the other people need me. (How arrogant can a person be? These are all fairly healthy, well-adjusted adults, and I think I have to take care of them?? Me!?! I'm cool, but really... THAT cool? no.) I'm afraid of what people will think and feel if I don't do what I think they want...
So, although staying at a friend's house longer than I wanted to stay isn't a real big deal, I want better. I want to enjoy the time I spend with friends. I want to go out and feel comfortable knowing that I can take care of myself. I will not put myself in situations where I am being drained or depleted... Which really, when I feel trapped, no matter how GOOD the experience could be, I feel depleted and tired afterward.
Here's my goal, and the way I will challenge myself.
For the next few times (or as many times as it takes) I hang out, I will decide on a time in advance that I will be done. If I want to change that later, because I'm having a really good time, I can do that, but really... I'm thinking it will be important to stick to it as closely as possible for a while. I will tell the people I am hanging out with when I will be done, and I think I will probably even tell them why, and ask for help:
"I'm working on setting and keeping really clear boundaries. The way I am doing that is deciding when I am going to be done hanging out in advance, and then sticking to it... Today, I want to be done at 9 pm, so that is when I am going to be leaving. Would you mind helping me with this goal?"
I don't actually need or expect their help, but by asking for it, I'll be able to help myself better... and even now, I feel anxious at the thought. Which probably means this is going to be really good for me.
Saw this video this morning... I don't get involved in politics a lot... mostly because I think that anyone who wants to be president, and has the money and influence to do so is completely out of touch with reality. We have created a system where the elite run the country. Even those that think they are in touch with the "lower class"... aren't. They can't be.
But this video, and the way he talks, and the things he says... GRRR!
There's so much wrong with what he is saying, I'm not even sure where to begin...
Yep. I'm envious. It has been HARD to work as much as I have, as hard as I have, and still have very little to show for it. I'm envious of the fact that if something happens, I have no medical insurance, and I'm just out of luck. I made the decision to work for a small company that can't provide insurance, and I suppose you could say it's my choice... but I'm jealous of those that don't even have to THiNK about such choices.
I don't want HIS money, or to take his lifestyle... It would just be nice if I didn't have to worry about things because I had enough. (And I also recognize, I am incredibly wealthy compared to the rest of the world, and even the country. I rent a room that includes a roof over my head in a beautiful community. I drive a car, granted it IS held together by duct tape, but it runs. I eat when I'm hungry, and I can talk on my cell phone. All things that not everyone has.)
So, Mitt... if you want to dismiss my experience by saying, "It's just envy," you can do that. But I won't. I want change. So, I won't just talk about it in "quiet" or in "private places" where no change can happen. I will shout. Loudly if I have to, because that is how change happens...
And I promise, because you think and say things like this, I won't be voting for you. This is not the first time I have seen you be dismissive, invalidating, and well... downright silly. (When you are trying to get people to vote for you, that is not a good time to tell THEM how they should listen to you... you want to represent THEM, but have them shut up and listen to your yammering. Does that make sense in YOUR head??)
Thanks Angie for nominating me for the Liebster Blog Award.
I feel especially honored, because it's Angie. Who I love dearly. And respect a lot. And she's written a book. (That's actually how I first found her blog, and her. I found the book, Above the Clouds. It was about a person leaving the church and getting out of an abusive relationship and a woman finding herself. And I felt less alone, and I asked her to come visit my blog and share her thoughts, and then I started reading her blog, and we started chatting and then we met for lunch and she's taught me SO much, and I love her, and I know this is a horrible run on sentence, but it's how the thoughts flew out of my head.)
Blogging has been amazing for me. I found my voice. I told my stories. I read other people's stories. I learned from them. I wrote more. It's amazing (and fascinating) to me that I can read what someone across the globe thinks about. Professional writers, stay-at-homes, crazy crackpots, travelers, and those who never leave their basement. Everyone gets an equal forum to write what they think. It's both deeply personal and incredibly public.
I hate having to pick just FIVE blogs. Only five?
These first two were invaluable to me when I was leaving the church. Kiley expressed her anger without attacking. She talked about her journey in a very insightful and intensely personal way. I felt so much relief when I found her blog.
Machathought about things and wrote about things that I was scared to think about. She was (is) intense in her passions. She made me think, and I appreciate that. I also felt a lot of support from her comments on my blog.
Julie writes incredible stuff about loving our bodies, the media, and she is very insightful. I used to follow her blog all the time, but thought she had stopped blogging... I went to go find the link to nominate her, and guess what?!? She is blogging, and it's good stuff, and now I need to read it ALL! (How did I miss her coming back??)
PTSD and Me wrote about his experiences with PTSD. I found his blog in 2008, and it helped SO MUCH. I found a label for the "seizures" I was having at night. All night long, my body would seize up and shake and EVERY muscle in my whole body would contract. Sometimes they came with flashbacks, but sometimes not. I felt less alone when I found his blog. In some ways, he gave me the strength to keep on going... If he could survive PTSD, I could too. He doesn't blog much anymore - he wasn't blogging much when I found his blog. I'm just grateful he left it there for people like me to find.
I also really appreciate the peacewriter (for being a place to talk about all sides of things... lots of different and wonderful voices there), Pure Mormonism (for being willing to be different... active Mormon, and questioning...), Ordinary Courage (for being perfectly imperfect and vulnerable. STRONGLY recommend Brene's book., and Single Dad Laughing (for being willing to be a normal guy who just talks... about stuff...), and a bunch of others, but... I feel good that I got it down to eight. I better stop, because a second ago, that said, "At least I got it down to seven," and it went UP to twelve at one point.
For those of you who have received this award, your mission (should you choose to accept it), is to pass on the love.
The Rules are:
1. Show your thanks to the blogger who gave you the award by linking back to them.
2. Reveal your top 5 picks for the award and let them know by leaving a comment on their blog.
3. Post the award on your blog.
4. Bask in the love from the most supportive people on the blogsphere – other bloggers.
5. And, best of all – have fun and spread the karma.
I've had a few people ask me to explain Intuitive Eating... I sort of suck at it... (Though, I think my friend "Forealya" said it best, "Intuitive eating is kinda like normal eating.")
Here is a link from the Center for Change that explains it in more detail.
Dieting Failure:
"Most people blame themselves and their “lack of willpower” for their
diet failures. In reality, diet failure can be attributed to the body
responding to hunger and the body's state of semistarvation or
starvation. The body and mind react to a diet in the same way they would
to starvation. In starvation, the body's metabolism decreases, and
cravings increase. This is the set up for diet failure. Metabolism
naturally slowing down during starvation is the body's attempt to
conserve energy. A decrease in metabolism means the body is burning
calories at a slower rate. Also while on a diet, the mind becomes
preoccupied with thoughts of food and cravings intensify, especially for
foods that will provide quick energy, like sweets. Eventually, it is
too difficult to fight nature. People can't remain on diets forever and
when dieters terminate their diet efforts, it is common for overeating
to ensue. Overeating and even “normal eating” with a suppressed
metabolism will cause the weight that was lost to come back. The failure
rate of dieting (95%) is so high, not because people aren't good enough
or strong enough but because our bodies were designed to fight weight
loss."
I hesitated to put the above quote, because... well... as a person with an eating disorder, I read things like "people can't remain on diets forever", and TRIED. Even though my eating disorder was never about losing weight... It was about willpower, punishing myself, not deserving to live... but I took the fact that I COULD starve myself forever as a sign that I had more power over my body than the average person. (SO messed up, but I thought that way.)
Intuitive Eating:
"Intuitive eating (also known as “Normal Eating” or “Mindful Eating”)
teaches individuals how to look inside themselves and listen to internal
cues. It also provides guidance on how to form a healthy relationship
with food. It is an anti-diet approach to eating. There are no rules to
break and no temptations to resist. Intuitive eating, unlike dieting and
meal planning, is not a set up for failure."
Intuitive eating was HARD. I thought I needed rules... without rules and without EXTERNAL control, I would fail. Only... it was the external control that made life miserable. I wanted to live my life. Intuitive eating was a step in finding the way to trust myself, follow my own internal guide. I no longer need anyone to tell me what to eat... or how to live.
Mindful Eating:
"Checking in during various times throughout the meal can also help us to be mindful while eating. We can ask questions like:
Where is my hunger/fullness level?
Am I enjoying this food?
What would make my eating experience more pleasurable in this moment?
Would I rather be eating something else?
Am I staying present while I am eating, or is my mind wandering around?
What external things influenced my food choices today?
How can I reconnect to the internal signals my body is giving me?"
I'd say these questions have completely changed the way I look at food. It's AWESOME!
A few weeks ago, I had the stomach flu. I don't own a scale, but I could tell I had lost weight after not keeping food down for several days. When I finally started feeling better, I noticed I was very hungry... For several days, there were so many foods that tasted really good. There were several foods that I don't normally like that I craved, so I ate them. There is no doubt in my mind that my body sent me the signals I needed to get it back to a healthy place.
There was a time, that that natural compensation would have scared me. I would have felt out of control, it was cool to be aware of what was happening and to appreciate it. (I'd be lying if I said there wasn't a few moments where I felt anxiety.)
I just found this page. The whole thing was SO helpful.
I appreciate the way she talks about anger: If you have too little of it, you won't protect yourself, and if you have too much you'll offend against the rights of others.
I appreciate her insights on fear: If you can work with your fear, you can understand when it is healthy and appropriate, and when it is repetitive and unhelpful to you. It's important to have a good relationship with fear.
Insights on happiness:
"Each of your emotions has a specific purpose and a specific place in
your life. One of the biggest tricks to learn with happiness is to let
it come and go — and to not treat it as better or more important than
your other emotions. Every emotion has its place.
If you treat happiness as your go-to emotion, you’ll suffer unnecessarily when your other emotions arise. You need anger,
fear, sadness, jealousy, envy, guilt, grief, shame, and even depression
(etc.) at times. If all you know and all you want is happiness, you’ll
tend to avoid, ignore, suppress, or mistreat your other emotions, and
then guess what? You won’t be happy very often."
Insights on sadness: It clears away things that don’t work so that you can make changes
in your life and make room for things that do work for you. What a great gift!
I also really appreciated the pdf download. There was a time in my life when I carried a sheet like that around with me, so that I could learn what each emotion was and how I experienced it.
She says a lot more, and a lot better than I can, so go check it out?
"How do you know when you are being emotionally intimate with another person? When you feel anxious and afraid of how the other person will react to what you are sharing, that is when you are being emotionally intimate."
That kind of blew my mind. It's been rumbling around in my head for several days now.
In my post a few days ago, I talked about how intimacy requires saying what you mean to say. Being honest about anger, pain, love, happiness... I talked about how afraid I was to talk about my anger and my pain. I was afraid of getting hurt. Sometimes, literally PHYSICALLY hurt. I was also afraid of being criticized, demeaned, or humiliated. I was afraid of the things I said being used against me at a later date. I was afraid of so many things, so I kept my anger and pain to myself. I thought for so long that I didn't deserve to be treated with kindness
and respect if I wasn't doing everything everyone wanted me to do, and that feeling and belief drove my fear... which kept me from expressing... well... anything.
I like this new idea of what intimacy is... It makes so much sense to me...
Saying, "no", requires more trust (for me) than doing what the other person asks of me.
And thinking about the people that I like having in my life: They accept my boundaries. When I say, "No," they don't push me. They are still kind to me and treat me with respect even when I don't do everything they want me to do. It would be IMPOSSIBLE to have an intimate relationship if it wasn't safe for me to be honest... say no; I don't like that; I don't want that; please don't... Completely impossible to have any level of intimacy if "No" is not an option.
Argh! Even now, I hear voices from other people telling me, "It is selfish."
I hear myself saying, "It's no big deal. I can handle it."
Or the fear of retribution from some... the ones who don't understand what a healthy relationship is... thinking that it is okay to respond with hurtful words or actions if I don't do what they want.
But I go back to what I would want for those that I care about. I would want them to be respected. I wouldn't think it was selfish of them to take care of themselves... in reality... seeing others stand up for themselves and take care of themselves has created many beautiful friendships. (My FAVORITE moment with BJ, "I'm going to take care of myself. I'm
going to do what I want, and if you don't like it, then FUCK YOU!" At
the time, I resisted the urge to smile... I didn't want to ruin the
moment. It felt AWESOME! Loved seeing that he could and would stand up
for himself... even "against" me... That was hard and scary for him to say: Completely goes against HIS need to please everyone... which is probably a big reason we became such good friends. He trusted me, and I responded in a way that showed I knew him and I respected him.) I wouldn't want them to force themselves to do things they don't want to do because "It's not big deal."
And I hope that if I ever say or do hurtful things, they would get themselves away from me to a safe place. I don't want to hurt anyone.
Respecting boundaries doesn't mean that they don't share feelings. If I say, "No. I don't want to spend the day with you," then a healthy response (if it's true) would be, "I feel sad and disappointed. I really wanted to spend the day with YOU." I respect their feelings and don't try to change what they are feeling... they respect my feelings and don't try to change what I am feeling... I share what I need to share, and I allow others the freedom to respond in the way that is truest to them. (And as always, if their response is abusive, I can let them know, I can choose not to be around them, or any option... I always have the freedom to get out of a situation that is harmful or toxic to me.)
Still learning. Still exploring. Still thinking.
What are YOUR thoughts on this idea of intimacy??
this morning, and feeling frustrated with the author. "This woman is selfish, controlling, and she's driving me crazy!"
