Tag: #Highlysensitiveperson

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Magnolias and Scripts

Love my smoothies by the water and the magnolia trees in bloom right now. Simple pleasures when life is so complicated.

My boundaries suck. I fancy myself to be someone who strives to be impeccable with my word and yet my trauma threatens to undermine me in this area all the time. I resent my codependency. Do I really deserve to suffer like this the rest of my life? Like a trap I can’t get out of. See the codependent victim right there.

Telling everyone else what they should do with their life, when I’m not getting paid for it 😉 No Christina. Here’s what I’m responsible for my boundaries, how I feel, and sharing that clearly and concisely after I have sorted it, and the most important part following through and sticking too. That’s my fucking job right now.

The stakes on my recovery are too important so I shall continue to be transparent about my struggles and leave other people to theirs, unless I’m getting paid for it.

How much can I actually modify about this rabid out of bounds “fixing”. That’s frustrating. Lately when I’m quiet it’s because I don’t trust what will come out of my mouth. That I won’t go on and on in my process until I stick my foot in my mouth, or burden others with responsibility for my emotions by sheer panic of it all. 🙁 ugh! Charlie Brown! I’m a block head.

Say what you mean and mean what you say and take time to think about it before you say it are words I’m living by right now. And follow through. I can preach it but I find when I’m most frustrated it is because I’m not in fact practicing it. Humbling.

A comfort I can find right now is I’ve finally become strong enough to sit in these realizations without excusing them, etc. if I stay in them, stay acknowledging, then shifts are being made. Shifts are being made and it’s exciting. But it requires me to keep leaving behind things I once loved because it doesn’t work. And previously I would have just tried harder and fought and now I’m forced to let go if we don’t meet up naturally with where we are in our work.

That sucks !

I’m grumpy today. This overly heavy period with an impending medical procedure to remedy it, doesn’t help. I’m anxious that at any second I’ll be in a very uncomfortable situation, and I’m exhausted as a result.

I’ve been doing administrative work today and that never puts me in a good mood. It’s that itself that may shift me in a different direction career wise at least with how I structure my operation. I do not want to be beholden to anyone and I want to create my own way of doing what I do. I’m not sure yet whether this will require RE branding or what I will need to do to figure it out. But the winds of change are blowing.

I already have my own way of doing what I do but I don’t have any structure into explaining what that is. I don’t know if I need to, but it’s probably delicately intertwined with my writing and the next direction of my life.

I’m worried about my health insurance, worried about all the up in the airs right now. I have literally no idea about a lot of these things and I have lots of steps to take for right now. Financial advising, because there are lots of answers I don’t have with regard to what I have and where I need to put it to be secure. What I can allocate to where. I’d say this is a good problem to have considering the scarcity I’ve been in most of my life made that not even something to worry about because there weren’t those choices or options.

The paradox of choice… the more we have the more overwhelmed we are. And overwhelmed and I are not good bed fellows. No one likes it but for me being overwhelmed on an already overtaxed nervous system puts me over the edge so easy. I resent that. More grouchy.

Recently in my own therapy a topic is how to share with my kids some of what my life was like in a constructive way. My therapist has suggested I rehearse the following until I can say it without becoming emotional. I resent being asked not to become emotional about such things, but she knows I don’t want to dump my emotions all over my children so they feel they have to carry them.

So I am to recite the details clearly and concisely like this. My mother was mentally ill, my father was a little in and out until he wasn’t (with no explanation just a lot of speculation), I was Dcf involved and removed, I was put into the care of my grandparents who didn’t want to be raising anymore children, and was frequently reminded of this fact. I spent the rest of my life trying to find somewhere I could belong and be safe and that process was not easy.

As a mother I’m still trying to figure this out and my role. What I have done and been committed to is providing for you as best as I could while figuring this out and having only good people around you. Those were my primary focuses while I’m trying to find out where I belong and who I am in all of this.

Well when you put it like that.

Say that without feeling any emotions or going into the details to try and recover my feelings. Sure. Easy peasy. I’ll get right on that Rose.

Well if my mood was going to be helped it would not be from that, but I’ll keep reciting it and doing the work and looking for glimmers. The little things that shine through that show the work is working.

Work work work work….

Trying to not feel shamed or a victim for the things I chose to focus on to survive.

It’s not easy…..

Nothing good ever is….

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Running on Empty

Some dreams you take down, and some dreams come together unexpectedly. I’m hopeful for the latter.

In this period of utter groundlessness I’m sifting through mine.

I had a dream a little over a year ago to become a foster parent. If you have ever seen me pursue a dream you might chuckle, but for those who haven’t I’ll describe it. It’s a sprint. My mind is quite effective when focused so within a few months of the idea we had a crib set up in our room, bunk beds in another one of the rooms, and the mounds of paperwork were being cruised through.

I set the scene swiftly and effectively. There’s a gift and a curse in this way of doing things.

For me it takes much longer to dismantle a dream (particularly if I’m not ready to let go of it) than it does to try and create the conditions for it to exist. Perhaps I heard the Wendy’s commercial of Dave whispering “if you build it they will come” one too many times in childhood. Once again my entire life shaped by the television.

Anyway my family and I took cpr classes and we attended the foster classes and that’s when I realized so much of me was still the child rather than someone capable of steadfast patience in the face of a child that can’t regulate. I saw myself in the videos and vignettes of children experiencing abuse, and I wanted to look away, but I didn’t.

I remember avoiding the call and exit interview of the class teachers who thought we were the perfect candidates. I could not face that down at the time. I couldn’t face a lot of things.

Being honest with myself about that was one of the hardest moments of my life and everything that came after… the stuff of nightmares.

Lost identity, lost security, lost dreams, lost self, illness, terror…. I cannot even go in further into that.

My 100 yard dash came to a screeching halt and I set out to see myself and the relationships with my own children more clearly. This very difficult task continues. I am humbled daily. I am ill equipped to parent teenagers and the struggle for self love during this time is immense.

Anyone who heard me say ill equipped would laugh I suspect, anyone but my ex husband and a few scorned critics out there. In the traditional sense I’m not, but most often weathering the. “You’re ruining my life phase” and the bite back from rules is extra difficult for me because of my ten thousand triggers. Some newly acquired unfortunately, and many old.

I’m a piss poor punching bag who is simultaneously acutely aware of the need of teens to practice their independence with their parent and the parent still loving them. My off switch is immense. The love is never off but the response is and that breaks my heart. I’m working on it 🙁

Boundaries are hard. I’ve had to create the whole system from scratch. I’m getting emotional as I write this. I wonder if anyone in their whole life has ever tried so hard to become a mother while underneath the weight of their burgeoning painful mind filled with trapped and inaccessible memories that would run their life subconsciously. Now that I wrote that I’m sure many. That makes me sad.

I’m sad most days, which is better than irritable, scattered, panicky etc. Sad is ok apparently, according to my therapist. I don’t want to waste a second of life, but I’d imagine acknowledging and connecting to my own emotions is anything but a waste.

I woke up sad today. There’s many things behind that, many reasons. So I’ll just hang out in the bath where my tears can trickle freely and it’s warm and quiet and safe.

I can barely figure out what I feel like eating lately, and whatever the mood is for does not go well with my stomach. This loss of love in enjoying the art of it all is disappointing, nay, soul crushing. My soul feels crushed by an emotion like sadness and I want for that to have some balance.

On the flip side when I am able to come up for air, everything is new and beautiful. The pink blossoms are blooming on the trees in the backyard, and that alone is a comfort beyond all comforts. It helps me ignore the rotting wood of the deck that needs replacing, and the current state of the pool. And all the other things in my life that are falling apart that are teaching me it’s ok for one thing to come together at a time.

Deciding which thing to focus on always felt like the problem. Little did I know the extent of that. I will abide in a state of surrender and let the problems wear themselves out rather than me wearing myself out.

Surrender. Boundaries. Time.

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If you can’t trust your mind…..

This line stops me in my tracks. Trust my heart?! Have you taken a look at my life lately? But somehow I know it’s true.

I am reading Words on Bathroom Walls. It’s simple style makes me want to think and write that way as well. It just seems so straightforward, so easy, nothing like my mind.

Adam (the main character) and I have that in common about our minds. You never know when your mind will be your enemy or your best friend. One moment you can be so sure of the truth and everything, and the next shattered.

One moment I can have the galaxies of the universe on the tip of my awareness and the second I attempt to capture it, everything goes blank.

Like when I opened this blog post I had a wave of inspiration and in the time it took me to open the app on my phone, poof. Into the abyss. I sit very still hoping it will alight gently on my shoulder any minute now.

Thursday nights are dinner at my favorite restaurant. It’s nice having a favorite restaurant and being a regular. Another aspect of belonging of course. It’s comforting. Last night I felt comfortable in my own skin and confident and not socially anxious and not overly preoccupied with anything, even though I always manage to create something to be overly preoccupied about.

A regular I hadn’t seen in a long time, a tall dark and handsome man (rare for me to interact with LOL) told me that I looked great and asked what I was doing. You know to look so fresh and perky. I’m forty I’m not sure perky applies but we will go with it. It felt nice to be noticed (seen?) those are different I suppose. See over thinking again. Can you really over-think or is that just a way society shames us for using more of our gifts than we should?

Anyway later in the evening my friend who I dine with on Thursdays (friend is such an understatement fellow traveler and family more appropriate, and many others), went to go speak to someone and said tall dark and handsome enters seat next to me. He commented on my posts on Facebook and said he needs help. To clarify I believe he needs light like the rest of us, not exactly help. Light helps you create your own help as an inside job.

Once again the fact he would share that with me, and I’m that person, it never ceases to amaze me, humble me, excite me, and make me feel special in all the ways I never did in childhood. The universe has a funny way of making up for what your earthly coils lacked. It’s one of my favorite things.

I have a doctors appointment this morning. Sometimes it feels like my whole life is filled with them and then I think don’t feel sorry for yourself it’s not like you have cancer or something. And I toggle back and forth between validating and invalidating my experience. I just summed up how I spend most of my mental energy. Funny and not funny at all.

I’m dreaming about vacation lately and trying to get a vision for what that looks like. The toggling happens here too, a lot. Can I use those resources when there are so many loose ends in the air. Should I use it for this or for that. Time and resources apparently feel always running out despite the abundance I’m surrounded with.

Maybe I have more in common with Adam than I thought. I mean it’s not an accident I’m reading the book and love the movie so much. My perception can be completely skewed, and also it can be so completely perceptive to the ends of the earth. If I stayed solidly in that place I wouldn’t wander in my mind, in the ways one needs to wander to be a healer. Hmmm. See during the act of writing this that arose and felt damn true and good too. That’s why I do this.

Deciding how and when and to whom I process to, these days that’s a whole other matter. It’s more of a sacred decision than I ever valued it as, but also there’s so many less ways to go wrong (such an intense word) than I originally thought.

Highly sensitive people spend a great deal of time trying to find how they are wrong so they can fix it, presumably because their major intent is the betterment of humanity. Betterment of humanity detriment to themselves. Is it always that way for healers or just when you’re out of balance!?

What kind of healer am I? Was psychotherapist just the beginning? I mean it felt like the total destination and I already have a purpose. So what now? I’m always on the brink of something. I suppose that makes me an adventurer.

That felt nice to write. Not crazy and bad? No Adam we are not crazy or bad. We that invaluable shared experience with another that can also be found in books and movies and just so happens to be there when you need it.

I had a client share with me yesterday that the yucky depression voice is barely hanging around these days and maybe it’s just coincidence (see we all want to minimize our accomplishments), but that they noticed.

Something in the book that struck me is how Adam gets to know Maya, and the things he notices about how she operates and who she is. He knows her very well, the light and the dark and this happens slowly over time. Have I ever allowed that? Leaps and bounds subsisting off crumbs, existing primarily alone. I see myself so different now.

But I have no idea what that will mean going forward. That sort of groundlessness used to plunge me into pathological loneliness so easily and it would take days to recover and it would always be a patch job.

I’m sailing a yacht now and the compass and all the equipment is working and that in and of itself is terrifying. It’s a lot of responsibility, our own happiness. Much easier to play out templates and patterns from our upbringing and be in a part that is rehearsed rather than breaking through to our own.

I’m scared of my own abundance and my gifts and power. I’m actually scared I can’t complain or default ? Wow.

Who will I be outside the story I make up for myself daily to create relief. Outside the story what is real and what isn’t? Could it be possible that real is whatever I perceive and create and that’s ok?! That feels too simple and too complicated all at once.

I only have a few more pages left on my journey into Adam’s journey. Who’s will be next and what will I learn ?

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There’s no place like home

It kills me how your mind can make you feel so worthless, so before you go…..

Before You Go…..

The girl who tried to figure out her life from the movies. Who tried to learn about healthy versus unhealthy. I’ve been teased my whole life about a variety of things. I’ve often wondered what has made me such a target for that. Do I wear a sign?

“The music you listen to is always so sad.” Teased about my romantic comedies or watching movies, listening to songs, on repeat.

The truth is those were my friends. That’s how pathologically lonely I was. Those were the closest things I had to connection. Just another 80’s kid raised by the boob tube. That was my most innocuous “parent”.

So this morning I’m thinking of how certain movies shaped periods of time in my life and how they represented what I wanted most and many aspects of who I was, that I didn’t yet know. Like an archaeologist trying to discover myself and create myself.

And with the movies came the music, Pink, Lewis Capaldi, Andy Grammar, Calum Scott, XX Ambassadors (I can’t tell how many times I’ve listened to Unsteady) Kelly Clarkson Piece by Piece and so many more…..

2016 was characterized by a few main movies. Stuck in Love. The Vow. Julie and Julia. The Holiday. And Me Before you. These movies represented what I wanted that I didn’t feel I had, and who I was that I didn’t know as well. Meryl Streep and Stanley Tucci, graceful in their love through thick and thin. I wanted to have that and I wanted to be it.

“We don’t talk to each other like that”, the Vow. So much in there… a woman who left her family for its toxicity and found healing in love and then tragedy hits them anyway, and can they find their way back to each other. After a traumatic brain injury she forgets why she left her family and that’s of course what she seeks comfort in, what she goes back to, and why she left and her love with her husband is lost with the accident. Will she find her way back? He has to watch her knowing why she left in the first place and his only choice is to watch her have to figure it out herself, as he stands there having lost everything.

Stuck in love, a young writer feels everything so much. He’s sensitive and different and falls in love for the first time with an addict and the pain that is involved in that. While his writer father and sister navigate their own stuff.

Me Before You. Can a person with a special spirit and zest for living even while having very little, help a quadriplegic who never wanted for anything reclaim his will to live when he can’t live the way he used to. Can he help convince her there is more to life outside her little bubble. Live bravely Clark.

The Holiday. Cameron Diaz tries to be able to cry (this was me at one point) to be anything but a workaholic, while across the world Rose McGowan travels the perils of unrequited love and her brother tries to navigate being a single dad and feeling if anyone could ever love all of them as a package. They cross paths and learn and try for love amidst the wreckage. People finding themselves.

So much pain inherent in the human experience.

I watched from the outside, nose pressed to the glass of the proverbial fish tank. The screen of a television. Are the answers in there somewhere? How could the answers for my life be in someone else’s? But where else was I supposed to learn from.

So considering I patched together an identity loosely from anything I could get my hands on. Tv, watching people, my thoughts, but never anything consistent. There was never anything consistent except fear. Anxiety was my other companion. Movies, television, and anxiety. And I watched everyone and everything to try to crack some code. How to survive?

Looking back I did it well I think. But in it, in it I was always wrong or bad. Always running from the bad inside me that must have been to not have connections like other people did. Why did they have them and I didn’t? I was bad by default. I begged to be seen and loved, and then the world came along and asked me why I tried so hard. And told me I was too intense, too this, too sensitive. Too little of this and too much of that. I was always wrong.

Always trying to prove I was good, I wasn’t a burden, I was worth loving. God it hurts and then shamed on top for every behavior I ever used to survive. I think that’s the worst part.

So my movies of 2020 (the end of 2020 most of it I didn’t watch anything). Five Feet Apart. The Greatest Showman. The Secret Life of Pets. Silver Linings Playbook. Mermaids. And Life Itself.

The 2016 movies were what I wanted to create for myself, what I longed for. What I tried to make. And when that all fell apart without my own solid identity, the 2020 movies were part what I needed…

Touch, to believe in what I was capable of accomplishing, to accept myself the way I am as is (“can you say the same fucker, can you love all your dirty parts”), to be adopted to belong, and that when life brings you to your knees, when you’re lower than you think you can ever go, if you stand back up, you’ll always find love.

I needed to find mine. Because I was just existing to be useful, and I was never going to create my own destiny or write my story unless I could be connected to myself.

I didn’t even know anything about that. But the world expected me to. It’s a given right? It wasn’t for me, and rarely does anyone truly see that about me.

And when you try to figure out your life from the movies that feels insane and bad and wrong. I was supposed to have my own identity and since I didn’t I must be fucked up right ? Missing some important thing that other people just seemed to have. So much shame.

How could I do that to myself for the things I developed to make it out alive.

Also when you try to figure out your life from the movies as it turns out you can act like you’re in one and live in short snippets characterized by dramatic changes and never realize the full impact.

I figured that out this past year. I figured out a lot of things besides just how to not chew spearmint gum while wearing a mask and sunglasses, and how to survive the apocalypse. After my life it’s going to take a lot more to do me in.

I’ve been searching my whole life for consistency in connection outside myself, when it was there with me all along. This blog post is probably incredibly disjointed just like my mind. When I think it it’s beautiful and organized and poetic, when it comes out through my shattered parts, you’ll have to make a mosaic…. just like I have.

Click your heels three times Christina, there’s no place like home.

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The Dynamic of Transcendence

Heaven and hell is what exists on earth depending on the choices we make.

I remember as a child listening to the song that says ooh heaven is a place on earth, Belinda Carlisle. I liked that song.

I am thinking this morning in my 40th year, how many decisions of my life I’ve made based on trying to ascertain what was good or bad.

What was good or bad inside of me, who is good or bad. I have a lot of awareness about where this came from, but I focus more on that than how it affects my decision making now.

I was raised very religious and it has taken me a long time to decide what of those lessons I believe, what I don’t.

It’s all very overwhelming.

Here are some of the things I am realizing. All of the constructs in the Bible are all lessons or rules to be applied to humanity.

All portrayal of evil in horror movies or in the Bible respectively, the battles of good and evil, are battles of human beings in an attempt to transcend their own humanity (for whatever reason lies within their belief system), their own wounds, patterns of behavior and conditioning, and the fault lines laid down before they ever had a choice in the matter.

Later in life I attempted to ascribe to an integrative approach, light and dark, parts work. This is certainly more effective, but harder to stay consistent in because it is less rigid and defined.

Angels and demons, Good and evil, are all just stories about various human experiences in the ways we choose interpret and respond to them.

Heaven and hell are both places on earth, they are state of existence depending on our choices. To trust oneself is heaven, to perpetually doubt oneself is hell.

To be in a trusting loving relationship with mutual respect and good communication is heaven. To be in a relationship filled with manipulation and deceit, circular argument of which the goal is to be in control or get one’s way, is hell.

To have an exorcism, is to remove from oneself The patterns of thinking and behavior that cause a person to exploit another for their own benefit.

All the horror movies you have ever seen are literally just graphic representations of lost battles between a human being and them self. They lost the battle for discipline and to work hard at changing the things in themselves that could make them have a better existence, and they settle on low vibrational behaviors that harm others.

There are three sides to every story is an interesting phrase. Yours, mine, and the truth. Supposing there is one objective truth that could be figured out. Reality is that each person’s lived experience is their own story, and life itself is truly the unreliable narrator.

I have spent so much of my life trying to figure out what is right and wrong, what is my own reality, and having such a struggle in doing that, so much resulting anxiety. I state out loud firmly a desire or intention and then try desperately to live it. All good intentions, but I had poor attention to the details that mattered most before I made these statements.

If we boil it down to qualities of character, a strong character interested in the greater good of those involved with them, and seeking the truth at all costs of comfort, not exploiting anybody else in the process, is something I can be satisfied with.

To move forward I had to find a level of satisfaction where there was none. There could be no satisfaction amidst heinous acts and betrayal.

I have betrayed myself so many times to try and be accepted, Found to be lovable and loving, and to belong.

The unmet needs bubbling underneath the surface from my childhood threatened to always undermine my dreams. This is the battle I have always fought.

In the process of this fight I have emerged an advocate for myself and others. While I still do not know the breadth and depth of this work, it is emerging as a result of the process.

Today I close this book of the first half of my life, and I open a new one with a fresh pen and paper, and thankfully perspective.

I set forth with a realistic set of expectations for myself and others, and strive for people to have safety and warmth when they are near me, and that I am able to find those things in the assessment of my self.

I haven’t been able to capture my story on the page yet, anymore than here, as if that is not enough. Because I am the living story, and well life may be the unreliable narrator, however I choose not to be an unreliable character in it.

This is taken the most work for me. To say what I mean, and mean what I say, and organize myself so I can be satisfied with my existence while I have breath in my lungs.

I am currently reading the book the language of emotions. 

The Language of Emotions: What Your Feelings Are Trying to Tell You https://www.amazon.com/dp/1591797691/ref=cm_sw_r_cp_api_glt_fabc_6HX4BF6V14NAZGYQ2JE7

It is like listening to my self talk. I have just begun and I am reading it slowly and digesting each part before moving onto the next thing. Something I was never capable of doing before. I am treating my body with the respect and love it has always deserved, listening to what it needs, and slowly and carefully making those changes. This alone has increased my comfort and confidence inside myself, in the world.

All or nothing never was sustainable or accomplished any of the things I was so determined toward. Determination is important, but it needs to be balanced by consistency and discipline. 

I am learning those one step at a time…

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Victims and Perpetrators

“There are three sides to every story”, makes me want to throw up.

https://medium.com/the-ascent/in-an-abusive-relationship-there-are-not-two-sides-to-the-story-dc833dbc3af5

Who would’ve thought that taking responsibility for your own joy and happiness could be so difficult.

Who knew that it’s much easier to place it in the hands of others. (I think of Iyanla and myself before I came across her saying a relationship with others is only a reflection of our relationship with ourselves, ok good so a pervasive lack of self trust and some major attachment shit? Fun) Easier in the moment and more difficult in the long run.

Story of the ultimate human battle: discipline over satiation. Long term satisfaction over immediate. Well when you don’t think you’ll even live to see the next day now it all makes sense.

The legacy of the trauma survivor in so many ways is being sentenced to only live life in the current moment, and at times inside their own imagination because that is the only safe route.

Momentary safety overrides all other mental processes.

I’m thinking a lot about roles and boundaries lately. This makes sense as I am parenting teenagers, or as I like to call it herding cats 😉 Pema would say trying to get all the frogs in a bowl, and nobody likes a bowl of dead frogs lol. Fail, fail again, fail better she says.

Am I failing better these days or sentenced to life without parole inside my pattern? Stay tuned. I am failing better, but the fall is no less hard. I am angry at the fault lines inside of me laid down without my consent. Angry!

It’s lonely right now and yet it’s not. It’s lonely in a new way. A secure loneliness perhaps is taking over a desperate one, and maybe that will make all the difference in the world.

My thoughts are ahead of their time and I’m always ahead of myself. That’s a lot to come to terms with.

The proverbial cart is always before the damn horse. “How did you get the beans above the frank”, I’ve turned silly now. There’s Something About Mary reference and I suppose no better metaphor for the situations I get myself in could be had, no less painful.

There is no greater pain than to not be able to trust oneself and reality. This is a suffering I wouldn’t wish on anyone. In a matrix of my own making. I guess when you lived alone with only your imagination and your initiative this makes sense. And frantically looking for answers outside, rather than anyone helping. And worse being used and manipulated. It’s worse than I thought….

The benefit of childhood wounds directly at the surface is the opportunity to RE parent and become steadfast and solid. Not the same thing as boring and stagnant but they can often be confused for the other.

No black and white and there isn’t 50 Shades of Anything. A ridiculous fantasy. There’s just one foot in front of the other and I intend to taste and be the damn rainbow. Whatever that means. Like I said stay tuned.

The chronology of me…. another potential book title. Throw it in the pile with the rest as my attention threatens to betray me at every turn.

Just when you don’t think you can’t handle any more betrayal ….

I betrayed myself. And there’s nothing worse than that.

It’s a long way home…

And then she danced….

That’s been the longest running book title.

It and I are a work in progress that currently resembles a pile of raw meat. Shredded. Pulverized. The perpetrator and the victim and there is no reprieve.

Pema would say lean into the raw vulnerability. And I would cry out I’m exhausted of that, and some other voice from far away would say, hush Christina, you are just beginning, not ending. Why won’t you see it. You’re the only one who doesn’t.

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Becoming a Goddess of Love

And when you react intensely and immediately to each happening it clouds judgment and vision. Sigh. An example of a Goddess of love is Pema Chodron.

Do not pray for an easy life, pray for the strength to endure a difficult one. – Bruce Lee

My clinical work for today is thinking about what things “narcissists” (deeply entrenched patterns of behavior) and trauma survivors have in common. My legacy was always being afraid I was or could become the destruction I came from. So I’ve spent a lot of my life trying to sort this. But I couldn’t do it with only my head. I had to journey through to get my heart open first. A hero’s quest.

If you saw my human mistakes you would smirk at the idea I’m any kind of hero.

Knowing my heart how could I have so many behaviors that showed a lack of empathy when I in fact have so much?

Well as I untangle I realize my wires were crossed/ my narrative was confused.

The problems I have are primarily regulation which deeply impacts my decision making systems.

Decision making systems and belief systems are both deeply ingrained. My coping mechanism became act quickly because the second I Doubted myself in my situations at home and got too much empathy for my family members it was like a bright shock of pain.

I got so tired of that white hot pain that I developed a cut off mechanism and fast forward movement. It was deeply ingrained. The problem was there was no data for best practices. When to use this and when not to. So that led to a whole heap of trouble in my life.

I can shame myself for it or figure it out, or better yet use understanding to adapt a better trait. This last example requires resources and a sense of security though.

A sense of security. Something I’ve lived most of my entire life without. I might as well have been deprived of oxygen and have an only partially functioning brain. But since what I got was an over functioning brain, in over drive. The only conclusion was shame.

I was smart enough and strong enough, but having not ever been safe enough, even once I was I couldn’t perceive it. And perception is everything that we intend to operate from. What can actually happen however is we can and do operate subconsciously. Unless the effort has been made to bring into awareness our operators. And bringing into our awareness is exactly what a trauma survivor can’t access.

I won’t even say avoids because that’s too much responsibility for what we have been through. However once you know you know and then have the option to use accountability to change.

You need a motivator, a desire, a will, and also discipline. Try to get a once abused child to accept more discipline even from themselves and you’ll see a tantrum that could rival a child being plucked from an amusement park against their will.

Arrested developments and over developments have plagued my days most of my life. Trying to manage this could be a full time job without any others and no one is going to come along and understand that. You’ll be sized up and judged by the standardized operations of society, and more shame will become internalized.

Shame is an ocean I swim across. But no longer will I become my own jailer. At one point during my course of therapy I was told that I kept myself in my own cage type of deal. The child in me rebelled against that painful notion because all she heard was it’s your fault. But really what my therapist was saying is that you have the power.

I heard it’s my fault about everything, but never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d find a place where I could believe it’s within my power. My capabilities. My awesomeness.

I am reading Diana Herself by Martha Beck. The whimsical tale of how a dumpster baby who was unwanted realizes she is…. actually I won’t spoil it…. someone wanting their ego to know the ending versus having the experience would probably figure it out much faster than me.

Ironically enough I’m less interested in figuring it out than I am learning from the journey.

So my conclusion about myself on this gorgeous Sunday is that I correct my mistakes. Once I know and can connect to how it feels the impact I have on people I change those things even when the tank has been bone dry for years. This line triggered a memory from Paulo Coehlo …. the thing that’s magical about a desert is that somewhere it contains a well.

I submit for you another Andy Grammer song for today. I came across this for the first time today and what a title. I wish you pain isn’t this everything we try to avoid as a human?

This is the cornerstone of Buddhist teaching and why it resonates with me so much. The double bind of a trauma survivor is that they quite literally cannot handle any more pain. So even if they were born with a spirit for journeys and legends they become hijacked by an override, and the resulting pain at being held behind the gate when they have so much living to do.

See how I slipped out of first person there? It’s a trauma survivor habit. A subtle way to dissociate is to begin to generalize. This and many more behaviors, mechanisms are the beginnings of narcissism.

To undo narcissism you need to get the story straight, feel the burn, and use behaviors and language that use accountability but don’t spill over into shame. It’s a tight rope walk for sure, but it’s not impossible.

You can no longer use a story to comfort yourself and that will feel like dying over and over again until you come back to life with an open heart.

That has been my pilgrimage. The road I have been walking without even knowing it because I was clouded by the conventions of society and a thick swamp of toxic fucking shame.

Shame is the root of all horrible behavior and as I see it the only thing to be ashamed of is if you know better and keep doing it anyway. Then you deserve any shame that you have regardless of what has happened in your life.

We do have a choice. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like a choice. For me the choice is to hold myself accountable enough to be responsible in the lives of others, to walk gently with my fellow humans. And gentle is not something I had ever been taught much about.

Nature and loving people who stay are who taught me about being gentle. I tried to be ever so gentle with others, but vicious to myself and that didn’t work either. I had to start all the way back at the beginning as a baby. Wobbly legs and learn to walk gently.

I only knew how to run. Today I kiss my tiny hand and begin to practice grace. That I know will be a whole other journey, it is not the destination.

So what do trauma survivors and narcissists have in common? Impulsivity and the ability to disconnect from their actions and the consequences.

Where do they differ which is perhaps the more important question. The differ in their choices to take accountability for their own healing. A trauma survivor has a genuine desire to better themselves, a narcissist has a genuine desire for things to be better and they will do so at all costs.

Self reflection is the primary key to all healing, but it isn’t enough, it must lead to actionable changes so that the shift can be embodied.

Most people will never do this work it’s far too painful. They would rather ping pong back and forth inside their own story with their own narrative and act from that place. A place of fear.

Not all bravery is good and not all shame is bad. That all depends on the story.

Getting the story straight when you have been scrambled a thousand times over is nothing short of a miracle.

It’s a good thing I’ve always believed in miracles …..

How does one become a Goddess of Love? Suffering through the painful realizations of their own shortcomings and story and using that to become better.

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I will fight for you

I talked the talk but I had never walked the walk. I was a walking talking coping mechanism. A projection of an idea of how to do life. Ahead in my thinking, behind in my development, the chronology of me is a many scattered thing.

It’s Sunday. Glorious Sunday. And I’ve had some lessons as of late. I thought it would never happen, that I would never be on the other side of the immense painful losses I’ve been wading in. Now don’t get me wrong I’m no where near finished with this journey, we shall say I’ve turned a corner.

What has broken through is not being able to keep the habits of thinking that have been deeply embedded. The sheer terror my mind goes to at the first sight of anything, and how I try to find myself wrong or bad as a means to force the humanity out of myself, so I can be a good little soldier.

My eyes are welling as I write that and of course that makes me nervous that I’ll have another migraine. Yesterday was the first day I’ve been migraine free this month. It’s interesting to be full circle on truly realizing and not just theorizing the toll that trauma wreaks on a body.

All my old anxiety symptoms resurfaced. The last time I was feeling like this I was in a relationship that wasn’t meant for me, but was again so good for my kids that the only conclusion was I had fucked it up. I can look back and see that wouldn’t have been a good situation and I did the right thing but all I’ve done as I’ve attempted to carry my trauma flawlessly all these years is internalize more shame due to its impact. Wow I really just said that out loud.

After a year of intensive therapy two times a week including emdr and energy healing as well, and music therapy.

I now have a clearer picture of the impact on me, and not just the impact of me on others.

The toxic shame is finally lifting if even a little so some light can come in. Not a distraction or addiction but some actual light.

As it turns out staying a course consistently does do what they say. The mystical they. There is something other than just darkness and fear on the other side.

What’s on the other side? Compassion and the ability to value myself. Holy shit! That can’t be a real. Ok now I actually am crying.

It’s surreal.

I can be embarrassed at the way I’ve operated, ashamed, self flagellate. Or I can in the words of Elizabeth Gilbert kiss my tiny hand and forgive myself.

Elizabeth Gilbert who told an intimate story at the international women’s summit two years ago of how she was to take care of her partner Rayya as she was dying. And she in her overwhelm wasn’t removing the sticky film on her pain patches so her partner was in excruciating pain for days before they figured out why. The moment they figured it out she looked over at Rayya who looked her with compassion, knowing she would feel terrible. And Elizabeth was unable to receive that, as she was being so hard on herself.

So the story she told was that so ashamed was she that she took herself into the bathroom and cried and rocked. She then thought of a friend who had turned her back on her toddler for a second and the child got into an accident in the home and died. And she thought if she could be able to forgive herself for that that she must. So she kissed her tiny hand and emerged.

She of course told the story much better. She hugged me that week after a luncheon, after reading some of my words. I’ve had encounters with her before but was too scared to bother or approach her. This time with a little help I was able to have the courage.

She didn’t let go first. She hugged me. Not like a fan that she had to hug it was genuine and it was life changing. I went back to the room and sobbed and literally couldn’t focus on the rest of the workshop. Elizabeth Gilbert via Eat Pray Love was the first person who ever gave me permission to be a messy human and still love myself.

So it makes sense she also taught me one of the best lessons on mercy, which was a theme of the conference. On what it truly means to live.

So as I sit and find mercy and compassion for myself from this last year of my life and reflect on the work I’ve done and how that is revealing the quality in my life…. I am in awe.

I never thought it would get better. And here we are the kids are thriving and it’s not the worst thing in the world. It has felt like it, and that resulting attitude and behavior was the bad part. Once I dropped into my heart everything began to shift, and I couldn’t have done it without my children (my greatest teachers), my friends, my therapist, my energy healer who is amazing by the way, my piano teacher, and my clients.

My clients being brave is often the thing that inspires me most.

It’s humbling to realize I thought I could fix my past just by being a counselor. I hadn’t even scratched the surface on my own work yet. I had myself convinced I had. And that was part of a carefully crafted defense mechanism made by my childhood. I came with a lot of those, that operated completely outside my consciousness. I wanted to believe otherwise. Denial is a powerful powerful seductress.

So if you want a realistic account at least from one persons journey of deep healing work. How it really works is so slowly you can barely notice. Unnoticeable shifts…. so slow that sometimes you fall into despair because you feel it will never be better, and sometimes epiphanies are like a fireworks show big and bright and exciting.

Staying the course of having my own back, and getting out of toxic shame. If you’re going to live a courageous life you will make mistakes. I believe it’s what you do with them. I believe in more of an embodied way now because I lived it. It’s not just some theory about behavior spewed forth. It became a journey.

I never had pieced together all of my health symptoms to my trauma. I was too hard on myself and too determined to make it my fault or something else. I couldn’t even be in public without severe anxiety. That’s how bad it was. Without flushing episodes and bizarre symptoms. It was allergic reactions. It was anxiety. I’ve carried crippling anxiety and my entire trauma history with me into everything I’ve ever tried to do. And instead of realizing it I made myself defective and tried to hide. I was ashamed of my own symptoms. They were inconvenient and I thought no one would love me with them. So I tried to will them away. Tried to hide away.

But life kept throwing things at me that made me face all the pain I’ve been carrying with me. My past has been living in my body. Ravaging it from the inside out.

It was time to let go of these stories I had about myself and find new coping mechanisms and a new way of life.

I am hopeful now someday that trauma won’t run my life. That I won’t keep running with my mind or my feet and I’ll allow myself to live. Which is simply as I see it to be present.

For a trauma survivor to be present is a privilege. Our entire bodies hijack this away from us. When being present was too painful our bodies create a system to manage. I’ve been living with a system override that has made living so painful for me.

Coming to terms with that is life altering at best.

Be still and at peace Christina. You’ve worked so hard. Now feel what security feels like without wanting to crawl out of you skin.

This has been my song to me as of late: Don’t give up on me…. my 2020-2021 theme song

Always,

C

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Girls that Run with Foxes

“Don’t take any shit”

For as long as I can remember I have been teased for feeling things deeply or appreciating things that make you feel things. It’s like it makes the rest of the world feel bad that their disinterested sarcasm or repression of all their wants and desires is not the only way.

Corny they call it. Cheesy.

Because when we connect to our feelings it creates power.

I have always known knowledge is power.

What I didn’t know is the power I would have when I connected the force of my heart with the knowledge. I still won’t see the full effects of that because that journey is in progress. It is just beginning in some ways, and has been underway for years in others.

I remember that I loved the movie Foxfire. I minimized this to it indulging my gay tendencies that I didn’t know I even had when first I saw it, but today I realize it was so much more.

The movie is about women standing up against abuse and being mistreated. The struggles that causes with addiction, and many other aspects.

It is no wonder that my first tattoo would be a variation of the flame they each tattooed on one another’s breasts. Again I minimized this to a shallow interest, when it never was. I shamed myself for my corny first tattoo, and this interest as well as many others.

People tease me that my music is always sad. Why do people tease instead of wonder ? Are we that uncomfortable with feeling something ? Maybe it is me who had it figured out, and they didn’t ? What if that was true?

I connect to art where I can feel what the person was trying to say. Where I can feel their experience. If it doesn’t make me feel what was required of them to get it into the world it’s a waste of my time. Don’t waste my time with inauthentic art. Talent without passion and integrity.

I am interested in the brave and the courageous and their stories.

Lately shame is public enemy number one. I will make myself wrong for anything if it helps me to do the right thing when I had no model. And lately I think there has to be a less exhausting way to exist. And lately I know there is.

I would rather leave no man behind than abandon the hope that they too can do the things I have with my healing. I want to make what’s already in my life work rather than trust in life itself.

How could one trust in something that keeps leaving them in situations that are harmful? (I created the situations so I could heal my trauma) My only choice is to believe everything happens for a reason and trust the process and more importantly myself because being a victim is boring, even when one is actually a victim and not creating a story to comfort themselves.

Either way it does not lead to a courageous and full life. Something I have always been determined about.

Now can I appreciate how I am capable of loving and stop running any outdated narrative about that?

Can I claim my power and rights ? Enjoy some of what I have created without latching on to sources that wish to take rather than to give.

Can I walk the walk, not just talk the talk?

Can I choose that when it means giving up all that once felt comforting to me.

Comfort hasn’t been comforting in a long time Christina. It was an idea.

Now that it doesn’t it’s excruciating this place between selves. I can’t go back, and I was resisting going forward as well. Being loyal to an idea of something that never materialized and letting go seemed more painful than hanging on.

An intricately designed web.

That makes me think of No Doubt and their song Spiderweb. The song lyrics are actually very appropriate. Walking into spider webs

Abuse recovery is no joke ladies and gentleman. The way it RE-wires you. Changes connection forever. You’ll always look over your shoulder. You’ll never trust the darkness, the light, or anything you can’t see. Until you’re ready to face reality and your own healing work.

Unhealed draws in unhealed. A valuable lesson from 2020.

20/20 vision, no more rose colored glasses, or little white gloves.

Only survivors

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No Matter What

No Matter What by Calum Scott

This song was in my head this morning. Seemingly out of no where I kept singing it. So I decided to watch the video. So many tears. This kid was me on the playground. But instead of a parent guiding me I grew up amidst psychological warfare that I tried to fix for everyone. I tried to hold all their pain and mine. I was comforting until I could no longer take that burden anymore and cut the cords and attached to something else.

A husband. I needed a father not a husband. But I didn’t know that and perhaps he didn’t either. Young and naive we embarked on a journey. Seven Saint Bernard puppies and two adults in the back of a Ryder truck with all our belongings for Moses Lake Washington.

I was so dissociated I hardly remember myself in that time. Impulsive, brazen, curious, warm without any good reason to be. I remember that I just acted, I didn’t feel in the moment. I felt later when I could think about things. I created a sense of busy that had me never think about all the pain I was in.

I set to making a life. I looked at others and tried to piece together what mine should look like. I wanted the family pictures on the wall and that feeling of security that never existed inside or outside of me. That’s what I was searching for and love seemed the only way to create that.

So I kept trying for love, which kept leading me to shame. How can you be proud when you’re getting a divorce and hurting your children? I never got to be proud. I got more shame.

I put on a strong front to try and protect myself, but inside was an ocean of shame.

Unlike Calum I never got the I love you no matter what moments. By the time I came out it was another situation to internalize negativity about myself. Divorce the one thing I set out not to do. And hurting someone I loved, everything I stood against. And hurting my kids unthinkable. From that moment on I became cast in my own story as a bad mother, and something awful.

Therapists, friends, loved ones would try to ease this burden at times, but I shackled myself under my own burdens. Punishment.

I’ll never forget when I finally told him. I had tried so many indirect ways to try and keep my security, but finally I couldn’t keep it under wraps anymore. I told his family too. I wanted them to still love me no matter what. And I think they tried really hard which would be against the typical family system laws of protection. I didn’t love me, so I pushed them away in shame.

No matter what is never a condition I had or created for myself. I am working on that now for myself and my kids. Unconditional love from the inside not seeking from the outside.

I didn’t realize until now how much shame I have harbored underneath this tough exuberant exterior for being gay. Because mine was intermingled with hurting people when I was supposed to be a responsible married adult.

I was a scared child. I am more often than I would care to be a scared child. It feels embarrassing and terrifying to be aware of that, and yet that’s the only thing that can help me create something different.

All my relationships after were always going to fail, because I had no relationship to and with myself. None. I rejected her.

And this latest period of my life forced me to learn to have a relationship with myself so I could determine my boundaries from a place of love and protection, not merely a state of emergent need.

Dear Christina,

I vow to love you from this moment forward no matter what. Only to allow good actions into our lives. To have your back and always pick you first for my team, even when you make mistakes. I will love you fiercely. The no matter what parent you didn’t have.

Always,

C