Always waiting for the other shoe to drop…

afraid-to-be-happy

I think I made a kind of breakthrough in my therapy session tonight. For years one of my problems has been this overwhelming fear that something bad will happen to one of my kids. (I don’t like to even say the D word because I irrationally believe if I say it, I’ll somehow make it happen, by putting it out into the universe or something).

Of course all parents worry about their adult kids, especially when they know they’re out there somewhere in cars, which we all know are dangerous hunks of metal capable of the most ghastly and gory deaths you can imagine and operated by countless idiots and drunks on the road who can’t drive. I think my apprehension about something bad happening to my adult children edges into OCD-type territory though, because of how overpowering and pervasive these thoughts are, intruding where and when they are not welcome, even though I know that in all likelihood, something bad will NOT happen and even if it does, worrying about it excessively is like living through it twice. I think about my hypothetical reaction to such an event and wonder how I would retain my sanity, if not my will to live. I always marvel at people who have lost a child in a sudden manner like a car accident (a long illness is more bearable because you have time to prepare for it and process it) and wonder how they can still go on with their day to day activities–going shopping, paying bills, working at a job, watching a movie, hell, even having FUN sometimes. I know that wouldn’t be me and I obsess over how I might react.

I’ve been so haunted by the remote possibility of getting THAT life-changing phone call late some night (you know the one), that it’s even been a recurrent theme in my writings. I had a dream over a year ago about losing my son, and wrote a post about it, called Losing Ethan.

fine_line

Anyway, I decided to bring up this problem because it doesn’t exactly make my life happier and it annoys the hell out of my kids. The first thing my therapist did was tell me to stop BEING those feelings, but just OWN them. In other words, he’d noticed that when I talk about bad feelings that make me ashamed or anxious, I always use the term “I am….” Instead he told me to practice saying, “I feel…” or “I have…” In this way, you create a bit of a distance between yourself and the bad feeling. That doesn’t mean you don’t feel it, but with a little distance, the emotion can be explored, almost from the viewpoint of a third person. Ironically, what happens is you feel the emotion MORE (I can’t really explain why that works but it does).

His advice was brilliant, because a few minutes later, I made a connection. In 1998, with my then-husband in jail, I was forced to learn to drive his stickshift truck. I had to teach myself and never learned to park the truck properly. So after picking up my kids from their after school program and pulling into our driveway, I set it to Neutral and the truck began to roll downhill–containing both my kids, then ages 5 and 7, straight toward a TREE. The events that played out next are described in this post, called The Tree.

The important thing is, I’d connected this traumatic event in August of 1998 to my current obsessive thoughts about tragedy striking and generally always feeling like I’m about to receive some devastating news–and I knew immediately that these unpleasant thoughts are based on guilt and shame. I started to tell my therapist that I always felt guilty that the truck had rolled and that I *could* have killed them. For about 10 years I couldn’t even talk about it, because any time I did, I’d start feeling very dissociated and anxious. My ex knew how to press all my buttons, and knew this was my biggest one. If he wanted to upset me all he had to do was remind me what a rotten mother I was to almost kill my kids that night because he knows I’m still struggling with guilt over my failure to protect them, my failure to be smart enough to know how to park a stickshift.

I’m always very mindful of my body language, voice and gestures when I’m in session, probably as much as my therapist is. These things can tell you a LOT about yourself, not just about others. And I realized as I was making these connections that my body relaxed and I leaned back but my voice became softer and sadder. I was opening up to him in a way I hadn’t before. He just listened, with what appeared to be a great deal of empathy.

somedays

And at some point I felt tears come to my eyes. My eyes just barely glistening, tears not overflowing, but there, making the backs of my eyelids feel warm. I looked off to my left like I always do when I get deep into stuff, and kept on talking. I felt myself opening up and feeling some kind of generic emotion that wasn’t sadness and wasn’t guilt and wasn’t gratitude or joy but was none of these things and yet all of these things. I wanted to share all this with him. I heard myself speak and my voice became thick and my eyes burned again.

There was more, much more, but I’ll end this here because I’m getting emotional writing this. The important thing is, I almost shed tears in front of my therapist tonight. That might not seem like such a big a deal, but for me it was a huge deal because I haven’t been able to cry in front of another human being in about 15 years–which I realized is when THAT happened. (It might have been longer than that though–my memories of the time I was in my horrible marriage are gray, shadowy and even have yawning gaps in places).

What happened tonight is only the proverbial tip of the iceberg–I was seriously fucked up for a very, very, VERY long time, at least since age 4 or 5–but it’s significant because it means the wall in my head that prevents me from really being able to connect to my emotions is developing a few weak spots.

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My weird obsessions.

illuminati_obsession

Just thought I’d throw this out there. I’m sure it’s a phase and will pass. Occasionally I get obsessed with random things and for a few days or weeks those things take up all my time and energy. My obsessions tend toward the strange: what the higher dimensions look like, how languages evolved, the function of the pineal gland, universes with different laws of physics, why time goes by faster as you age, remote places in the world like Antarctica, books I loved as a child, dragonflies…and the Illuminati. (Cue Twilight Zone theme).

Anyone else have weird obsessions they want to share?

How to Remove a Mindworm

I stumbled across this post and was like, OMG, this happens to me CONSTANTLY! Mindworms are SO annoying! How to deal…

Lessons From the End of a Marriage

Much like earworms are snippets of a song that refuses to vacate your auditory processing center, mindworms are remnants of thoughts that stubbornly replay through your brain. It’s not only annoying; it’s maladaptive. The stuttering brain becomes stuck on a particular thought and is unable to move on to the next or be receptive to new ideas.

Mindworms are tenacious little buggers. They like to hide when you focus on them too intently only to start their slithering once you allow yourself to relax. They may go quiet for hours or even days at a time, prompting a false sense of security, before making themselves heard once again.

Although not fatal, mindworms are parasites that remove some of our lifeforce. If allowed to wander for too long, they hold their host back from optimal health and wellness.

There are no quick fixes for the removal of mindworms. The development of…

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Aspie obsessions.

howmybrainworks

One of the most pervasive and common behaviors of people with Aspergers is their tendency to focus intensely on one or two narrow subjects at a time. Aspies become obsessed with a topic and when their knowledge about it is sated, they move on to the next obsession. This obsession could take the form of a hobby, an intense scientific or artistic interest, or an intellectual interest in something weird or obscure (Aspie obsessions aren’t usually about “normal” things), or even interest in a person.

I really hate it when people tell me they’re worried about me because of my obsessiveness. I know the concern is meant well and I appreciate it, but it makes me feel embarrassed and self conscious. It makes me question and second guess myself and makes me worry that other people might think I’m crazy. I’m really not that crazy. I have my share of mental issues (mostly caused by my abusers), but I’m not about to jump off a bridge or start raving about the FBI or thinking I’m Napoleon. I’m just an obsessive Aspie. I can’t help being this way, and for me, it’s perfectly normal. I’m comfortable with it. I wish neurotypicals could be comfortable with it too, and realize it’s not a bad thing or something to worry about.

I’ve always had a lot of obsessions, about a lot of things which have little to do with each other (though sometimes one can lead to another), and none of them have ever killed me. I mostly enjoy my obsessions as long as they last. My brain is wired differently than a neurotypical brain, so the way we think can seem alien, weird, or even crazy to someone who does not have Aspergers.

I’m also a Myers-Briggs INFJ (introverted-iNtuitive-feeling-judging) which means my normally intellectual obsessions sometimes take on an emotional aspect. I think that’s the part that bothers people. But again, this is normal for my INFJ personality type and I never let it get out of control. I developed a pretty good braking mechanism.

So please stop worrying about me. Concern over my grip on reality or whatever makes me feel crazier than any of my obsessions ever have.

I think all my followers and commenters are amazing people. Please don’t take this rant personally; it applies to people offline too. If you have said it to me I understand and appreciate your concern. I know you mean well, but please just stop worrying.