Had to Run Away

Not literally, though oh how I wish it had been literal! I had to runaway from here though for a bit. Not sure why, but it was necessary. 

Hopefully I’m back now for more than just one post.  

Remember the Cheers song, “Where everybody knows your name”? That’s SO NOT ME. 

I’d rather nobody knew my name or even noticed that I came. 

I was going somewhere with that but I seem to have forgotten where exactly. That’s a pretty common occurrence in my life.  So let’s switch gears. 

Do you know the lyrics to the Cheers theme song? 

No…. I mean ALL the lyrics. 

Check ’em out, compliments of buzzfeed.com

Making your way in the world today 
Takes everything you’ve got; 
Taking a break from all your worries 
Sure would help a lot. 
Wouldn’t you like to get away? 

All those nights when you’ve got no lights, 
The check is in the mail; 
And your little angel 
Hung the cat up by it’s tail; 
And your third fiance didn’t show;

Sometimes you want to go 
Where everybody knows your name, 
And they’re always glad you came; 
You want to be where you can see, 
Our troubles are all the same; 
You want to be where everybody knows your name. 

Roll out of bed, Mr. Coffee’s dead; 
The morning’s looking bright; 
And your shrink ran off to Europe, 
And didn’t even write; 
And your husband wants to be a girl;

Be glad there’s one place in the world 
Where everybody knows your name, 
And they’re always glad you came; 
You want to go where people know, 
People are all the same; 
You want to go where everybody knows your name. 

Where everybody knows your name, 
And they’re always glad you came; 
Where everybody knows your name, 
And they’re always glad you came…
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Had to Run Away

Time to Quit

This is a frequent convo I have with myself and on occasion I include my therapist.

I think (and don’t tell me if I’m wrong) it’s a common conversation.

So today I’m having it again.

Exhibit A: I called my therapist because I needed help making a decision. Now the decision has been made so it’s time to quit.

Exhibit B: My time with my therapist has been a roller coaster that led to places it never should have and frankly I feel stressed by the whole thing. I feel like I have to filter my thoughts or I’m going to find myself sitting in a hospital somewhere.

Exhibit C: Seeing her triggers .

Exhibit D: I’m skilled at ignoring things and now that the afore mentioned decision has been made I believe I’m fully capable of proceeding with life and ignoring all the fall out and damage.

AND THOSE ARE JUST THE ISSUES RELATING TO THING 1. THING 2 BRINGS ADDITIONAL ISSUES.

Exhibit E: I won’t be able to afford him when my insurances ends so why get attached. Sure I don’t know when that will happen but better safe than attached.

Exhibit F: I can’t do hypnosis or EMDR so I’m a bad client and a waste of time.

Exhibit G: I spend half of ever session wondering why I’m there.

Some of my points are valid. I wish they weren’t so I wouldn’t have to struggle with this. Because, the fact is I will miss Thing 1 and Thing 2 if/when I quit.

But is this the week to quit? Probably not. But the reasons why it’s not are practically the same reasons why I wonder if I should.

Exhibit A: yes the decision is made(ish) and in the process we uncovered a whole mess of issues and pains and patterns that aren’t healthy.

Exhibit B: I’m having these thoughts in the first place…. That’s the issue.

Exhibit C: the triggers exist for a reason

Exhibit D: my ignoring skills, aka dissociation, not so healthy.

Exhibit E: if the chance to see him is limited don’t waste it and quit using money as an excuse to not get attached.

Exhibit F: example of my thinking patterns…. Clearly I’m unworthy of therapy, his time, his concern, and attachment

Exhibit G: Sigh. AKA I spend half the time looking for reasons to not attach.

THOUGH I do truly fear letting myself attach and then losing both Thing 1 and Thing 2.

Time to Quit

Showing a little too much hurt

Why therapy?

Why isn’t faith enough?

Why isn’t church enough?

Why aren’t friends enough?

Why isn’t family enough?

I think it’s because we know in real life no one wants to see our pain. And we don’t want to risk showing that pain.

If they see our pain they will have to acknowledge a list of truths they’d rather ignore.

1. There’s no bubble of protection for anyone.
2. Life still hurts and seems meaningless at times no matter how many scriptures you’ve memorized.
3. Horror stories are real.
4. Sometimes a criminal minds episode is being lived out in your neighbor’s, sister’s, or best friend’s life.
4. There are no answers.
5. Raw pain is just that. RAW.PAIN. It ain’t going away with a simple “God is good all the time,” chant.
6. We have to be just as prepared and willing to believe that there was no supernatural protection, healing, repentance & reconciliation as we are enthusiastic to believe in the miracle life transformations.
7. When he repentance and reconciliation doesn’t happen we have to figure out what to do next.
8. We’d have to admit our churches are full of wolves in sheep’s clothing.
9. We’d have to lure hoe to hunt those wolves.
10. We’d have to quit being embarrassed by the content of the nightmares the people around us are living.

MOSTLY, we have to pull out heads out of the sand and realize the nightmares aren’t across the oceans, they aren’t in the inner city, they aren’t even limited to sex trafficking… It’s the mom who drops her baby off at the nursery in Sunday morning with a smile on her face plastered there to cover the reality that she was violently raped the night before by her husband. It’s not just in your back yard people, it’s right beside you in the pew.

If we show our pain we fear
1. Judgement
2. Ridicule
3. Lectures and Bad advice…. So many well intended books do more harm than you can imagine
4. Distancing and avoidance
5. Shame
6. A list of scriptures we need to memorize
7. A song we should listen to
8. Having our Facebook wall plastered with pretty pictures and happy Jesus quotes.
And for me…
9. Fear that my pain will hurt some one else.

So why therapy?

It’s the only safe place to hurt. We can hurt and just be accepted a a hurt person feeling exactly what they should feel when they’ve been hurt.

But oh how much more effective it would be if we could hurt and be accepted by people in our real lives, not just by a person who can only be there for us 45 minutes at a time.

(And I’m not at all saying that to question the validity and sincerity of the therapeutic relationship.)

Granted, even if we could hurt in real life I still think there would be a purpose for therapy. I just believe it would look different and be more productive because those of us desperate enough to turn to therapy wouldn’t be starting out dealing with the shame of having to admit we hurt.

Showing a little too much hurt

Pretty on the Outside

It’s a beautiful day today. The sun is bright and birds are singing. I can tell from where I’m huddled that the air must feel brisk and smell fresh.

But inside, inside is the storm. Ominous gray clouds, howling ferocious wind, flashing streaks of lightening followed by the crash of thunder. That’s what lies inside.

And all because in a fraction of a second a horrific and terrifying memory flooded my mind and hijacked my whole being.

Pretty on the Outside

Over sharing

I warned you it could be a post of its own.

I feel like I’m an over sharer. I only go into detail with two people, my sisters.

Ok, that’s not quite true. I also talk to Thing1 and Thing2, aka my wonderful therapists.

But in real life it’s just my sisters. I used to have three friends but somehow over the past six months I lost them. (Again another potential post, or series of posts)

So my sisters hear the details of whatever antics “He who shall not be named” has pulled.

But that’s not the end of my over sharing. I tend to tell people who don’t need to know that I’ve spent a couple decades plus some married to an abusive man. No details, just that basic fact… But seriously that’s not really something that needs to be shared in the soccer mom club. I’ve also been known to too quickly share my own mental health struggles. Again not really something everyone needs to know.

I open my mouth and these things just come out… picture puking. (TMI I know, but this is a post about over sharing so what did you expect?)

Afterwards I’m stunned at what I just said. Once upon a time I never ever would have told anyone such personal things.

The only thing I can figure is that it’s like a swinging pendulum. For years I was way over on the left… I lived a totally fake life and kept lots and lots of secrets (that’s what you do in an abusive marriage) and now that I’m mostly out from under the abuse I’ve swung way to right and I can’t keep my trap shut.

Surely that pendulum will find its resting spot in the middle soon… The question is will I have any secrets and any reputation left by the time I find that perfect balance? Believe me, when you spill your secrets week one walking into the room week too is pretty awkward.

But hey, now that I have this blog maybe I contain my over sharing…. After putting all this on the web would never be classified as over sharing.

Over sharing

Upset about what??

Beats me what I’m upset about.

It has something to do with other people’s expectations. I’m an over sharer. (That’s probably why I have this blog! And over sharing could probably be a post in and of itself.) I tend to tell my sisters more than they need to know. And then I’m trapped between a rock and a hard place otherwise known as how I feel vs how they think I feel.

Evidently I don’t feel what I’m supposed to feel, or at least now how they expect me to feel.

I should be able to handle that. After all I know I’m entitled to feel what I feel. We all deserve to feel our feelings, right? And I try to do that. I’m not good at it though. It all gets mixed up… my feeling, their feelings, Bob and Larry’s feelings. Just throw them all in the pot and stir.

I walk away, well usually I’m actually hanging up the phone, and I’m so confused! I thought I felt… but no that can’t be I must feel… No that’s not right….

Wait, I know how I feel! I feel sick, disoriented, confused, exhausted, lost and upset.

But what am I upset about exactly? I’m not upset with anyone else. No one was mean to me, no one hurt me. I am upset that I put myself through this confusion again… But that doesn’t really explain the feeling.

It’s an upset/confusion. The only thing I can compare it to is when I was a kid and I’d fall asleep, a deep, hard sleep, in the middle of the day. When I woke up I was so disorganized (hmmm, I was thinking disoriented but typed disorganized and in a way I think disorganized is truly the better word). That’s how this feels.

Once the confusion wears off and the fog clears I promise myself, next time I’ll keep it to myself. (BTW, “it” usually has something to do with “he who shall not be named”, aka the should already be X who isn’t an X yet because this divorce will never end!) Next time I won’t tell anyone. That’ll fix the problem. But next time comes and I end up talking about it because it’s overwhelming and I seem to need to talk about it.

After all, I’m cursed to be an over sharer.

Upset about what??

That stings

I’m carrying around more than my load of blame and shame tonight. Those two are a pit of nasty cousins.

I am trying to remind myself that yes, I have had to make decisions that are hurting people I care about… But I’ve had to make those decisions because of the abuse that has happened. And no matter how many times and ways I try to take responsibility for the abuse that shame doesn’t belong to me.

If only I could hold on to that fact for more than five seconds. Instead I have to feel the sting and work through the whole thought process over and over.

That stings

Ending

Therapy, it’s an amazing please where for for 45, 50, or if you are lucky 90 minutes the world revolves around you. Only two people exist in fact – you and your therapist. And amazingly this other person is completely captivated by your words, your thought, and your feelings. It’s amazing and wonderful and scary and frightening.

Therapy is the place you can hash out the mixture of feelings that life stirs up. It’s a safe spot to explore options and the risks and benefits of choices. And your therapist he/she is the person you can lean on.

So when you end therapy it’s pretty traumatic. It’s a huge decision with major consequences, both good and bad.

And the hardest part… By the very nature of the decision you find yourself with nobody to lean on. Nobody to hash through the thoughts and emotions this major decision stirs up.

It’s the double edged sword of therapy.

Frankly, it sucks.

Ending