407 NO! NO! NOT AGAIN!!! Part 15

15
2002
A mixed message?  Okay.  I showed my happy, self confident side to the world—as in ‘let a smile be your umbrella—walk through a storm, hold your head up high—fake it till you make it' ... I said all the 'right' things to myself while my spirit cried silently, night after night..
(We follow this path, blinding ourselves to deeper truth for years until, one day, the mask that we don't know we wear slips off, and the ache to feed personal needs is still there ...)

At those times when conflict arose and I had to assert myself, fear of displeasing anyone produced so much stress that my muscles constricted and tension spilled into my response.  Why?  Pleasers can't tolerate conflict.   Inner conflict floods the mind with mental confusion.  Mental confusion stimulates anxious static.  Anxiety eats into logic like a team of termites, tunneling through the framework of a well tended home.

Actually, I wonder if the main source of inner conflict, causing anxiety, today, comes from absorbing too many mixed messages.

This persona, I'd unknowingly adopted, showed the world a funny, light hearted, self-confident leader.  As my accomplishments were diverse, my smile was as sturdy as an iron shield, and since I'd believed my persona as much as anyone else,  I'd no clue that anxiety is a sign of insecurity ..."
"Annie, no one would have thought of you as insecure ..."

"That's because I'd adopted your widely admired trait of calm congeniality, Mom. In retrospect, I feel grateful to have acquired your honeyed tongue, because one key to balancing one’s inner life and one’s social life is to blend gentleness with shots of honesty that express what we really feel inside."
"You think I have a honeyed tongue?"
"Uh huh."  Then with a smile, I added, "And—the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree."

         “But Annie, no matter how careful we are, everyone offends other people at one time or another.”

         “Of course, Mom.  And since words have the power to hurt, it’s important to choose them with care.  It's also important to know who we’re talking to, especially during moments fraught with conflict.  When conflict ensues with a person we think to know well and we listen to perceptions, which make no sense, at all, it may be time to clean out our ears or question whether our perception of that person has been on the wrong track.  When we don't know ourselves or others—in depth—our relationships may not be as balanced as we'd like to think.  Anyone who's had reason to build a massive defense system may listen to whatever you say with such an easily-offended-sense-of-readiness to fight or flee that it's wise to keep this old saying in mind: We can’t please all of the people all of the time.  And that includes the people we hope to please, most.  Everyone experiences conflict, confusion and anxiety, Mom. And it's wise to acknowledge that fact, so we can stop flinging tension, blindly, back and forth.  *Once we consciously choose to learn how to tame anxiety, we can think clearly enough to work through confusion, discuss conflicts, and solve problems that keep popping up.

          I’m really thankful that Lauren and I had not been raised in an acidic home where children mimic parents, who spew sarcasm back and forth.  It’s hard to sense what others feel once their defensive walls shut you out.
Unfortunately, we can't problem solve effectively without identifying our own defensive patterns.  And since defensive patterns are self-defeating, we face the same problems, repeatedly."

         “Not everyone grows up feeling so conflicted, Annie.”

“I know that, Mom.  Even so, no childhood is idyllic; we all have egos, and for countless reasons, each ego develops a prideful shield to some extent.  As a rule, children have no clue how to problem solve, successfully, and problems intensify when we have no clue of what's taking place deep inside of us, behind our masks ..."      
At this point, I grow quiet and muse on my own ...    *During therapy I learned that the death of a child is one of the most serious traumas a family can weather.  It’s not unusual for marriages to break up after suffering such a blow.  Children who've enjoyed a comparatively tranquil family life during their first five years may be less conflicted than those who've experienced trauma.  Even so, lots of mixed messages filter into our brains during every day life.  *Though adults mean well,  children are often told the opposite of what they need to hear:  Stop being a cry baby.  Don't feel that way.  Don't be mad.  You're a bad boy (or girl).  Do what I say because I told you to or else!  If you don't come right now, I'll leave you here.  Lots of mixed messages,  messing with clarity, there.  Lots of fear-driven obedience. 

In the aftermath of Janet's death, everyone grieved so deeply, I didn’t know who to approach.  Over time, I developed the habit of opening the depth of my pain to no one—including myself.  As I grew up, that unconscious habit grew into my persona whenever confusion, conflict or problems arose.  Though eczema had served as my Achilles heel whenever internal combustion weighed too heavy on my spirit, crying silently at night didn’t blend into the mix until my personal life felt so confusing and distressing, my shell couldn't contain all the tears I'd swallowed back and hidden from myself.  Makes sense that this child will grow into a problem-solving adult, whose focus directs itself at easing the pain of others, rather than looking in, unmasking and addressing her own ...  *Couldn't remove a mask that I didn't know was there ... a mask that hid the depth of my pain—from me.  Though I did participate in therapy, from time to time, when my sense of confusion felt overwhelming, I had no clue what I was searching to find ... at this point, I begin to muse, aloud ... 
 “... Mom, think of all the photo albums and home movies that show me smiling, dancing, skipping, skating, swimming—bandaged from shoulder to wrist.  Smiling, dancing, skipping, skating, swimming, and mugging for the camera showcases an inner spirit honestly glowing with delight—my eyes sparkled just like Dad’s…  Even so, once I had reason to collect and connect puzzle pieces from the dark side of my past, it came clear that scratching till I'd bled suggested this fact:  My spirit felt just as bummed as it had felt bright—depending upon whatever conflict FATE had in store for me next.  Remember how frantic the night scratching got after we’d moved from the apartment into the house?”

“Of course, I remember.  I lay next to you in your bed, night after night, soothing your discomfort by rubbing tar preparations, ointments, and salves into the unbearable nature of your itch.”

"Well, it wasn't our move that exacerbated the itch; it was what happened after the move.  And as it had been my habit to keep troubles to myself, no one knew about those bus rides from hell ...
"I wish you'd told me about that, Annie."
"Me, too, Mom ... do you remember how my condition intensified, again, right after I’d entered high school?  I’d tossed and turned through so many sleepless nights that we had my classes switched to afternoons.  As the salty nature of sweat burned painfully into my open sores, I was placed in modified gym."

"So what happened in high school that caused your eczema to flare up, again?"

"I'm not sure.  Perhaps after my experience with Joseph, I feared dating. Or maybe I'd had to work harder to maintain good grades ... actually, it was probably a combination of both ...

The last time the itch flared to such an intense degree had been during my first semester of college when sexual intimacy raised its head between Will and me (pun intended) .  You know that expression ... wear your heart on your sleeve?  Well, my sadness, confusion, and fear must have been hidden inside my sleeve, because lots of people have eczema, Mom, but mine spiraled out of control whenever I'd felt unprepared for whatever unpredictable conflict LIFE tossed onto my path, next.  Each stage of life develops into an unending series of changes.  And as confusion, conflict and unpredictability accompany change, I must have been on edge much more often than I knew.
*At this point, I muse, quietly, again ...  It seems that once we leave childhood behind and the persona has developed into an unconscious habit, we have no clue of when our masks slip into place, and while the persona is controlling the thought processing center of the brain, we can't problem-solve objectively, therefore—effectively ...

 As soon as conflict enters the family scene, subconscious power struggles filter into discussions.  Defensive walls arise.  Adults sulk, freeze up or fight like children.  All too few of us recognize how often adults unconsciously role model negative attitudes and self defeating reactions for little pitchers with big ears.  Children are called little pitchers with big ears, because eventually, what goes into the ear pours out of the mouth.  Just as healthy habits shape up over time, the same is true of defensive habits, which we've unknowingly adopted during childhood ... and as all habits are hard to break, we unknowingly pass them forward from one generation to the next.  After pondering upon habits I'd absorbed from my mom, my dad, my Grandma Ella, I engage with Mom, again, while reminiscing aloud:

"While raising my kids, I'd read as many books as I could get my hands on while every one else was asleep.  I'd thought I'd felt compelled to read countless books, because I didn't want to yell at my kids.  It didn't occur to me that no one wants to yell at their kids.  Night after night, my mind soaked in insights concerning positive focus, problem-solving skills and working to develop each child's self esteem.  A few years after I'd been asked to teach at the college, I began to speak at professional conferences.  Soon after that, I remember standing in my kitchen with magazine in hand, looking at my by-line, while expressing my amazement at having been asked to write articles about positive parenting techniques.  As my amazement had been expressed openly, one of your grandkids responded with this astute insight:  ‘You know what, Mom?  I think everything you’ve read to strengthen our self-esteem has begun to rub off onto you, too.’  After listening to this astute observation popping out of the mouth of babes, I recall laughing at the truth ... (RR&R)  

*Though I'd no clue as to what had compelled me to read all of those books about guiding and strengthening children by way of positive focus, now I do—I'd needed to strengthen myself!  FATE dealt me a winning hand when my neighbor introduced me to The Family Education Association.  While attending their twice monthly meetings, I became aware of the writings of Rudolph Dreikurs (CHILDREN THE CHALLENGE).  Once I'd absorbed the insights, leaping off page after page of Dr. Driekurs' book, I switched tracks and was off and running toward changing my attitudes, full speed ahead ...

 As I began to experience one success after another, my self-help library continued to grow, and my ability to assert my needs during conflict began to develop.  With no clue that my mind was engaging in a lengthy state of transition, which taxed and stretched my comfort zones, my heart pounded hard inside my chest and huge lumps of anxiety caused my throat to choke each time I'd confront a conflict and open my mouth to speak.  *On the other hand, I was always eager to grow, and while we're in the act of growing, growing pains tag along."
Time to swing and muse quietly, again, while my mind mulled over decades of transition, especially those times when the honeyed aspects of my voice tasted more of lemons.  Thank goodness, eventually, everything I'd read continued to help me meet with success, and over time, lemons turned into lemonade.  During times of transition, one person's growing pains tend to depose peace of mind—on all sides.  Unfortunately, in the absence of clarity, times of transition may stretch out over too many years.  *I had not yet read that when one person develops communication skills while another does not, the emotional gulf between the two widens, causing their relationship to worsen.  It's always what we don't know—yet—that sets hurdles in the way of achieving our goals. 

*Today, I believe the subconscious portion of my mind, where instinct hangs out, sensed where I'd needed to grow—first intellectually, then emotionally.  It's often said that psychologists and psychiatrists are people who are in need of help.  I believe inner conflict catalyzed my leap onto the bandwagon of family communications.  While standing on my soap box, I'm not tooting my horn.  Instead I pay homage to the wisdom of all of the authors whose thoughts inspire me to expand my perceptions and grow into whomever I am—today—knowing that, tomorrow, change, confusion and conflict may compel me to experience growing pains, once again.  Though assertive statements had begun to pop out of my mouth, my nervous system continued to flood with anxiety each time I’d felt compelled to make a decision that didn’t satisfy another person’s needs.  Why did I flood with anxiety?  For this reason:  *Each time I’d chosen to satisfy my needs, I’d felt selfish.  So no matter which side I'd choose, heads or tails, I’d lose.  Today, it’s plain to see that my mind felt squeezed between a rock and a hard place ever since I was three.  Why?  *By stuffing my problems at such a young age, I'd not learned to respect my needs as much as I'd needed to serve the needs of others.  In short:  "My need to serve others had stuffed my basic needs behind a defensive wall before I'd known they'd existed, at all.  As to removing defensive masks, well—how doth one discard a mask that we've no clue is there?  Again, it's what we don't yet know—about ourselves—that trips us up.

After swinging in tandem, Mom broke the silence with, “Well, you don’t scratch any more, Annie.  And I don’t remember your scratching when you and Will separated.”

* “By the time Will and I'd separated my mind was so filled with fear, I'd no strength left to hide from the depth of my depression ... when defensive walls crash, masks disappear.  Once my unhappiness was out in the open—meaning that my inner life and outer life matched—my need to scratch, disappeared.  You know what ‘they’ say:  People don’t change until we hurt enough to hit bottom.  Picture an egg, dropping to the floor, imagine its shell cracking, shattering, laying in pieces while every fragile vulnerability, 'protected' inside, lays raw and exposed—a stick mess in need of cleaning up.  When it comes to family life, some of us are raw while others are as wishy washy as soft boiled eggs; then there's a third group that's become too hard boiled to peel off our shells.   My main reason for writing this trilogy about our family (which, over time, will have turned into this blog) is to offer an intimate look at how Will and I slid down into the bottom of a black hole and cracked apart.  It's my hope that by airing our misperceptions, misunderstandings, and mistakes—all of which combined to form mixed-messaged madness on both sides—other couples may be influenced to make U-turns before they drive off the edge of a cliff with their children in tow…”

"Aren't you uncomfortable, airing 'dirty laundry' in public, Annie?"

"I attribute much of my teaching success to the honesty of airing my mistakes in every class I lead.  Each time I muster the courage to open up in or out of class, many who listen feel safe enough to open up and look inside, as well.  As history tends to repeat itself, I hope the same may be true for those who choose to read my trilogy of books.  Here's my plan:  I see my story as a trilogy for this reason:  First, I'll appear as an inexperienced child.  Then, as an inexperienced young wife and mother.  Finally, I'll develop into a woman 'of a certain age', who's collected swarms of insights in a jar.  As these insights are freed, a few at a time, my stories will express why I believe it wise to identify confusion and work through inner conflict, sooner rather than later.  When confusion remains unresolved, on both sides, or one side or the other, our heads start to ache.  Inner conflict is a huge head ache.  Head aches interfere with clarity. Clarity simplifies confusion and strengthens self confidence, which lessens subconscious insecurity.  *Decrease insecurity—increase self confident simplicity—life offers up a greater sense of inner peace.  More inner peace less heart ache—especially during times of change, confusion, conflict, growth—at least that transition's been true for me."
"How in the world do you plan to express all of this in your stories?"
"Good question, Mom.  Hopefully each story will evolve, instinctively, just like my articles did.  Word by word.  Sentence by sentence.  One story leading into the next.  When I sit down to write an article, I have a general idea of what I want to say.  Same thing with a story.  Then while writing, I'm surprised by whatever pours out, and the same is true during the editing process, when I try to simplify thoughts which can be exceptionally complex.  Sometimes the story shortens ... but as insights, swarming around in that jar, clamor to be released, so they can flit through the air and light up the dark, here and there—well, shortening my stories proves pretty rare ..."
J