Friday, February 28, 2014

944 FIRST DATE ... A MYSTERY Part 1

December 1958
I've just turned fifteen and
New Year's Eve is fast approaching
Having never been asked on a date
There's no way I entertain any thought of
This New Years varying from
Those which had passed until
The telephone rings
Annie it's for you
Who is it?
It's Morgan
I'm surprised because
Morgan has never called me before
Morgan is a sophomore, old enough to drive!
I can't imagine what's on Morgan's mind
When Morgan mentions New Year's Eve
No one could feel more mystified than me :)

Thursday, February 27, 2014

943. Part 105. AWOKE WITH THIS INSIGHT IGNITING THE BRIGHT SIDE OF MY BRAIN :)

While most impassioned relationships prove as simple as
One plus one equals ... three
Other impassioned relationships prove so complex
As to feel as chemically combustible as
Two people sweating over the possiblility of
Hitting a bump while carrying a keg of TNT from here to there, and
The key to keeping the love lights aflame without
Burning down the house suggests
Unlocking doors, behind which we secret away
Impassioned emotions that
Scare the living daylights out of all sense of logic
You see, when logic is scared silly
Common sense suggests
Our brains can't function half as well as we'd think
And that explains why
Our first thoughts are not necessarily our best thoughts :)

If you ask how I know all of the above to be true
I'd smile while responding intuitively:  I just do :)
Then, if you, feeling skeptical, insist I offer you
More to go on than that then
My thought processor, which has drawn forth
Creative thinking skills for many years
Will illustrate a simple plan
So you can see that which
Positive focus has clarified for me :)

Upon awakening this morning
An insight as bright as a spotlight
Flashed through my mind, and here it is:
Throughout my adult life
Intuition has focused my attention upon
Questing toward understanding impassioned emotion as
It exists in its rawest state deep within us all
And you can believe me when I say that
Day after day, intuitive trains of thought
Guide me toward opening locked doors, behind which
Insight into both sides of human nature await further discovery

Honestly, I don't know where
This stuff comes from other than to say that
Upon awakening, these trains of thought
Simply pour out of my mind, and since
Passion repressed proves unhealthy
I can't help but wonder at the
Magical sensation of personal growth
That lies in wait to be set free when
Two heads, interacting as one
Figure out how to set bags of rocks to one side in hopes of
Opening brain space so mind sets can expand at least enough
For your path and mine to feel enriched by
Intersecting naturally, from time to time  :)

Wednesday, February 26, 2014

942 INTRODUCING ANNIE'S ASCENT FROM PRE-TEEN HELL TO HIGH SCHOOL HEAVEN

As yesterday's train of thought proved in serious need of editing, you might choose to tackle it, again, once these words appear at top of that post:
Editing complete :)

September 1958
I am a fourteen year old high school freshman with
Good and bad news to impart
As my preference is to save the best for last
I'll lead with the downer and end with the upper :)
During my first two years in high school
Not one junior or senior guy
Looked at me twice, or once for that matter
If you think that's low self esteem talking, please think again …
You see, my high school had been split down the middle
Meaning that a new building had been erected in
A neighboring town but the organizational skills of
Those empowered to make decisions, which
Had affected the social lives of nearly four thousand teens
Proved lacking in this manner:
Rather than dividing our high school into two separate schools
Freshmen and sophomores
Were bused to the new campus, whille
Juniors and seniors attended the old
And thus did my first two years of high school
Feel like junior high, revisited—except for
One monumental change:
Photos of my teen years show me as
Less roly poly, more curvy, than the pre teen, whose
Defense system had called upon denial to block my spirit from
Sinking in quicksand each time I'd felt humiliated
By a band of bullies

With the start of high school
I did not find myself a wall flower at sock hops as
Had been true throughout junior high, where
My misunderstanding with Joseph
Had caused his defense system to deem me a social pariah
And as my defense system had layered
That traumatic experience atop
The earlier trauma of having been
Targeted by that busload of bullies
I had no clue that these hard knocks had been
Locked within a deep, dark, secret pocket of
My subconscious, which proved to be quite a trickster
In fact, just as denial had tricked me into believing that
My childhood had been ideal
I had no clue as to why
My self confident smile trembled with fear every time
An attractive male drew too near 
Anyway, once instinct had locked the door on
childhood trauma, I felt free to
Flash my high spirited smile, in class after class, at
Girls whose desks had neighbored mine, suggesting
That those hard knocks in junior high, which
Had left me feeling lonely, had not
Knocked out my natural knack for making new friends
And if you wonder why this freshman felt the need
To choose new friends over old, well
Let's take a moment to reminisce over posts titled
FIRST KISS where I'd felt sadly stung upon being told:
Annie, we want to invite you to our parties, but
If we do, Joseph won't come, and
If he stays home, so will the other boys 
As buckling under peer pressure did not speak of friendship to me
Intuition suggested my starting fresh
Along with the rest of my huge, freshman class
Upon further reflection, clarity suggests that
Making friends with both genders
Came easy to me as long as guy pals
came close enough to look but not—touch—because
Any hint of hanky panky scared me silly …
(Guess that dark pocket in which childhood trauma had been locked
Was not as deeply buried, as I'd thunk, suggesting that
The threatening nature of repressed trauma, left unhealed
Hovers just beneath conscious awareness wherever we go)

At any rate, here's why
That split in our high school actually worked for me—
I found myself moving from class to class with
My social self confidence intact for this reason:
The guys I came in contact with were so young and
Inexperienced as to have felt as shy with me as
I'd felt shy with them, so
No one made a move on me that I couldn't handle

Some time during my first semester
I was shocked to have been invited to
Pledge a girls' social club, made up of
Freshmen, just like me—and much to my delight
My new friend, Debbi and I found ourselves
Voted into the inner sanctum of this select group, suggesting that
The natural warmth of a high spirited smile had offered
This social pariah a ready made social circle that felt heaven-sent
And if you'd thought to ask why, in a class of eight hundred kids
I'd been one of the chosen, I truly had no clue ...
Perhaps the process of choosing went something like ...
'Eeney, meany, miney, moe'… 
Next up?
FIRST KISS—whoops, we've already covered that disaster, so
Let's move on to:
FIRST DATE :)


Tuesday, February 25, 2014

941 NGUOUY Part 104 LAST THOUGHT BEFORE THE SUN COMES OUT, TOMORROW :)

Editing complete :)

Last train of thought before moving forward:
Do you realize how often a given reason does not match
The real reason for making a decision?
Need an example?
Try this three act play on for size:

Act one reveals Will's given reason for wanting to attend Mom's party
Act two reveals Will's real reason for wanting to attend Mom's party
Act three reveals Will's undisclosed motivation, which matchs mine

Act one
We are in Dr. B's office
I express my desire to schedule surgery as soon as possible, rather than prolonging anxiety by extending our wait from six weeks to eight.

Will counters by expressing his desire to delay in order to fly to the Midwest and celebrate my mother's momentous birthday.  Once my thought processor absorbs Will's given reason—that being to honor my mom and enjoy a good time with our sons before facing this difficult ordeal—I concede to my husband's reasoning, because my mind is focused on taking good care of Will. 

Though underlying anxiety proves our constant companion over the next four weeks, Will's spirit and mine remain buoyed by a host of inner strengths as well as this fact:  For the most part, we feel warmly supported by family and friends.  In addition to that, I, being well practiced at positive focus, am mindfully attending to my decision to offer my husband reason to smile, every day.

Though misgivings arise concerning my ability to 'act' light hearted while co-hosting Mom's weekend-long festivities, I push dark shadows, looming directly overhead, aside, thus ignoring intuition, which signals me, repeatedly, to respect the depth of my need to move through this ordeal in a quiet, peaceful place.  I mean, this is all about Will—however, in light of the bigger picture, the question of my husband's mortality weighs heavy on the state of my well-being, as well.

If you question my reason for elevating Mom's needs and Will's needs way above my own, I'd reply:  Blind force of habit.  You know—ring the bell and watch Pavlov's dog run straight through the chute in hopes of being fed—though in this case, that which had been in need of nourishment had been my spirit, which had historically fed off of my loved ones' smiles, suggesting that the depth of my empathetic reaction when faced with frowns, had been in need of readjustment—because too much of anything is not a good thing.  Bottom line:  As long as I was blind to how fast I'd danced around, meeting the needs of my loved ones, any thought of defying convention dizzied my mind to the point of feeling faint  …

Act two:
Six weeks have passed, suggesting that flying toward the festive celebration in honor of my mother's hundredth birthday looms directly overhead.  I chose the word looming, because of its ominous overtones.  You see, rather than glowing with heartfelt excitement, as had been my habit, my spirit sagged from dragging a sack of rocks inside my mind, which grew heavier by the day, until finally, intuition suggested that the only way I could possibly attend Mom's party in this lackluster, paralitic state was if my body had been carried into a banquet room, filled with family and friends, on a stretcher.

If you ask:  Annie, what caused your entire being to freeze in place?  I'd reply:  
While working to free my mind of childhood 'shoulds', my mindset and comfort zone are transitioning through no man's land, meaning that while retraining my think tank to respect my needs equally with the needs of those I love, I can't seem to accomplish this task without heaping undeserved guilt upon my severely stressed head:  And if you ask me to explain why being true to myself at my core feels so stressful, I'd reply:  I've peeled away so many defense mechanisms as to have fully exposed the rawness of my vulnerabilities, suggesting the impossibility of my faking any emotion that does not feel 100% real.

Though the narrow confines of my comfort zone had yet to expand so far as to enable me to freely express the depth of my distress in words, one look at my body's tightly clenched muscles, wasting away, reflected the fact that inner torment had gained control over my mind, thus placing a choke hold around my spirit's appetite for life.  (How many times must others say: 'listen to your body' before we grow mindfully attentive to the fact that this message proves universal, as well as personally, profound?)

If asked what caused my state of mental duress to increase, I'd reply:  My mindset had been painfully encased within the narrow framwork of a self-protective shell, which had need to crack a bit more, every day. And though  mind expansion had been taking place, all along, I remained blind to that fact until, one day, a flash of insight brightened my perspective, concerning the concept of choice:  Ostrich-like, I can stick my head in quicksand while forcing myself to attend Mom's party, thus honoring the needs of my loved ones, or I can expand my mind set and think for myself until brainstorming ignites a plan that attends to the restless nature of my mind.  As my second choice made much more sense than my first, I decided that my first thought had not been my best thought, and thus, upon reflection did my attitude and comfort zone expand.

When the subject is human human nature, instinct divides in half.  While one half compels us to quest toward personal growth the other half suggests that even the strongest amongst us pull away from possible pain—and thus does inner conflict serve as the spur that propels our brains to tolerate pain, which labors toward giving birth to new neural pathways each time that a path, which had once been tried and true, hits a wall.  When that happens to me, I take steps to seek a door that's locked or a window that's stuck, and if running along side that wall, all I see are bricks, I dig deep until creative thinking conjure up a pick—the one thing I don't do is turn my back on my need to move forward …
  If you ask what had stoked my decision to think for myself and open up to Will, my answer would be two fold:  First of all, my spirit, which serves as my compass, could not stop dragging.  As that was not like me, the solution-seeking portion of my mind continued to spin its wheels until three days before our plane was due to take off, at which time I chose to bare the depth of my vulnerability to Will.  Secondly, my breathing had become so shallow that I could not stand up for feeling faint.  So though my comfort zone was still pretty narrow, my body demanded that mind set expand, thus freeing my spirit to discuss the depth of my need to revise our original plan.

Upon reaching this point in my decision-making process, the little girl within indicated her need to sit on Will's knee, where her sagging self esteem felt soothed neath the umbrella of his love, And as tears of despair at my inability to function poured freely down my adult cheeks, intuition suggested that the crack in my mindset had finally sprung a leak, and here's why that proved to be a good thing:  Once the rawness of my vulnerability had slipped out of my core, these words, which rang true, made their way into my husband's open ear:  I can't fly to the Midwest.  I can't celebrate with everyone.  I need to be here, where it's quiet, with you.

If you ask:  Annie, why did such an honest disclosure cause your self esteem to sag?  I'd reply:  My belief system kept insisting that I 'should' have been taking care of Will, but here I was, asking him to take care of me.  As this was unlike the me whom I'm proud to be, I didn't like myself, at all.

On an up note, I'd expressed my needs openly, clearly and briefly, suggesting that straight into my core, I had been true to myself, at last!

On a second up note:  After I'd expressed myself clearly to Will, he expressed himself clearly to me—and though nothing changed other than the fact that our ability to harmonize had not exploded, under pressure, a huge sigh of relief released a couple of anxious rocks from the bag I'd been lugging around.

As you can see, change for the better takes place one small step at a time, suggesting why my little bird sits patiently on her nest, hoping that the shell encasing a loved one's closed mindset may crack just enough to consider the possibility that two heads often prove better than one when hatching a workable plan :)   

Act three
Though Will knew that his given reason for attending Mom's party did not match his real reason, I had no clue that his desire to save me from suffering regret at missing Mom's party had influenced his decision to keep the real reason under wraps.  Though Will's intentions had been loving, here is one reason why my path felt increasingly rocky:  As Will's given reason did not match his real reason, the information I had to work with led my decision-making process on a not so merry chase.  You see, in addition to worrying about disappointing Mom, I'd worried about disappointing Will.  And though this train of thought resembles 'who's on first', it actually makes a ton of sense.

While sitting on Will's knee, expressing my need to spend these next several days within the safe haven, which we'd created as our very own, I described the impossibility of forcing myself to put on a show of strength while intuition kept signally me to attend to the rawness of my vulnerably.  And having said my piece, which I had surely thought would have caused Will to frown, the simplicity of my husband's reply came as a huge surprise:  Rest your mind, Annie.  We'll stay right here.

Taken aback, I ask:  Are you really okay with this?

At that, Will divulges his real reason, at last:
Yes.  Though I'd wanted to honor your mother, I did not want to be the reason why you might, one day, reflect with regret at not having been there for your mom.

As Will's disclosure puts a new spin on our decision-making process, I ask:  But what about your desire to celebrate with our sons before facing many more weeks of this ordeal?

I said that to free your mind of thinking that I needed you to take care of me the weekend of Mom's party.

Upon hearing this, I release that huge sigh, suggesting that when both of us had opened up, the heavy weight of anxiety lifted, all around.  Though still sad to miss Mom's gala, my spirit smiles, and while hugging Will close, a warm hearted thought flies out of my mouth:  This reminds me of the O'Henry story, The Gift Of the Magi, where the wife sells her hair to buy her husband a fob for his watch, and the husband sells his watch to buy his wife a comb for her hair.

Soon after that, I slip off of Will's lap and as this portion of my mind feels relieved of a couple of rocks, my think tank lightens up enough to redirect whatever energy my spirit can generate toward finding the key in hopes of unlocking dark pockets where secreted details remain empowered to cause the insecure portion of my self esteem to feel faint …

If you ask what drives my motivation to free myself from yesterday's ghosts, I'd reply:  In order to take good care of myself, I had to crack through a shell, which had blinded me to the fact that fulfilling the needs of my loved ones had always eclipsed my own.

And now that you and I have reflected objectively over that turbulent time, this silver lining comes to mind:  Will's non-disclosure had forced me to think for myself.  Then, as my body felt too faint to travel, my conscious mind was forced to consider my needs as equal to the needs of those I love.  And in truth, I'd rather know that I have to force myself to be less selfless than identifying a need to be less selfish—and if that insight doesn't kick undeserved guilt out the door on the first try—try, try, again :)

It's amazing how convoluted life becomes when we unsuspectingly disrespect our needs while simultaneously dumping undeserved guilt upon our own heads all in the name of protecting the ones we love most.  As for me, I can't wait to tell Socrates that I hope to have come to know myself well enough to refuse to accept rocks for brains, ever again :)

As to absorbing additional insights, gleaned from this painful experience (no pain no gain), let's try these on for size:

It's important to discern when compassion, rather than empathy, offers me the opportunity to view a situation with objectively.

The relevance of leadership taking turns being vulnerable as well as strong must not be ignored.

Each time two people choose to put their heads together, they may choose to step ever more confidently into the great unknown …

Since that which we choose to say or not say may prove to be a gamble at best, intuition differentiates between that which needs to be public knowledge and that which points toward every person's need for privacy.

As to gaining insight into accepting those times when simple plans must rest patiently inside my mind like little birds, nesting in tall trees—well I bolster my spirit with patience until hopefully, a mindset cracks open at least enough to say:  Okay, Annie, my mind is open to considering this simple plan that you believe will nourish us both by way of personal growth—

Uhh—on second thought, while sitting on a simple plan that's ready to hatch, this little bird may feel a bit more chirpy than she'd like to admit.  And here is why that's true:  It's not easy to wait for a mind set to expand enough to embrace intuition, which has repeatedly suggested that it's healthy to take solace or comfort or pleasure in attending to personal needs, within reason.

On the other hand, I can muster tons of patience while hoping that the comfort zone of an exceptional person may chose to exhonorate oneself from guilt, which, upon second thought, proves undeserved …

And—guess what else intuition suggests?  Intuition suggests that my comfort zone may have readied itself to introduce the first in a bevy of high school stories as early as—tomorrow :)

Monday, February 24, 2014

940 NGUOUY Part 103. TWO LAST THOUGHTS BEFORE MOVING AHEAD …

October 2013
One day, during a session of EMDR, I asked this question of Cary:  If, at some time in the future, anxiety spikes for reasons that remain unclear, how will I remember to ask myself whether another detail, associated with traumatic fear, repressed within a subconscious pocket of my mind, is scaring me, again?

Then, before Cary could respond, this flash of insight flew out of my mind:
Oh—wait!  From now on, I'll rely on intuition to kick in, alerting me to consider that possibly!

The uplifting nature of that insight offered my spirit such a profound sense of relief that, like a Phoenix rising from the ashes, the fires of existential freedom electrified my entire being until self trust took wing, and had a mirror been placed before me, the depth of my smile would surely have reflected the essence of soulful luminosity emanating from deep within my core where self empowered, inner strengths assured the wounded, little girl that, before too long, our mindful quest to heal the traumatized portion of our self esteem would meet with success …

In case you wonder if I'd taken extra care while choosing each and every word comprising that last train of thought, I'd say:  Absolutely.

Then, if you'd like to know what propelled me to describe the depth of my impassioned reaction with such attention to detail, I'd reply:  It's not often that an insight of that magnitude electrifies my mind—I mean, all we need do is shine a spotlight over those mind bending weeks, preceding and following Will's surgery, to see how that insight had served to highlight the improbability of my spirit's swift descent down that same, slippery slope, ever again …

Later that day, I mentioned this breakthrough to Angie, who said:  Well, if you don't remember, what then?

At that, I smiled and replied:  Then you 'll remind me, because that's what friends are for!

And once again our interchange created smiles on both sides.

Last part of thought #1 for today—

When people ask what compels me to write for hours, day after day, I reply:
If trains of thought, as complex as these, remain unexpressed and thus tightly compressed inside my mind, my head would surely explode :)

And since I'm still chuckling
Intuition suggests tabling thought #2 till tomorrow :)

Sunday, February 23, 2014

939 TO START A NEW STORY, TODAY, OR NOT—THAT IS THE QUESTION …

My head is still really tired.  Perhaps that's due to my heart, mind and spirit bearing the weight of two waiting games, at once:  Will's third psa test has been hurried up to take place this week, and though he seems fine and looks fine, I know he's anxious, for sound reason.  While we're bearing up well under on-going pressure, daily life continues to grow more difficult for my mom.  (Once, while speaking to an audience of empty nesters, I was surprised to hear about one hundred gasps in unison when this declaration flew out of my mouth:  No matter what life demands of me, my spirit needs to last one second longer than my body.  Today, I believe Mom's strength of spirit is determined to do that very thing.)

As I've mentioned in the past, it's as hard for me to leave Will to be with Mom as it's hard to leave Mom after each visit, which is brief, because Will has made it clear that his mind feels more at ease when I am near.  So, if you ask:  Annie, have you come up with a simple plan that eases your think tank when anxiety, resultant of inner conflict, arises, day after day? I'd reply:  Yes, and here it is—I remind myself that Mom is well taken care of by many loved ones in the Midwest.  And just as I'd been Mom's devoted friend and primary care giver for the first seven years, following Dad's death, today, my primary focus is directed at taking good care of Will—and as I've accepted the impossibility of my being all things to all people, all of the time, my anxiety remains at a tolerable level.  I've also accepted the fact that life and conflict are quite often one and the same.

Rather than compelling my memory bank to withdraw a new story, today, I decided to offer my tired mind another restful day.  So instead of storytelling, I chose to simplify trains of thought, which proved too complex in yesterday's post.  As happens while editing, additional insights popped out of my mind, and in hopes of imparting those insights to you, I've copied and pasted the edited version of yesterday's post, right here—so, here goes:

In recent posts, you played witness to turbulence taking control over my mind when inner conflict, concerning Mom's unspoken need of my presence at her party seemed to crash into Will's unspoken need of me to be strong.  You've watched my anxious state of mind grow ever more confounded, because that which had actually distressed me most of all had escaped detection until I'd muscled my way through my own defensive wall, thus identifying the unnamed fear, which had undermined my sense of safety..

When I'd feared disappointing Mom and Will, my most important values, both of which prove vital to my spirit's survival, had dueled for dominance inside my head (be true to those you love/be true to yourself), and while engaged in that duel, my mind felt as tortured as a body tearing in half on a medieval rack until insight into freedom to place 'shoulds' aside and think clearly for myself offered my downcast spirit sound reason to figure out how to expand my comfort zone, thus freeing my mind to be true to fulfilling my needs without dismissing the needs of those I love  …

Over most of my life, I'd felt guilty when my needs conflicted with whatever my loved ones had needed of me.  Today, that has changed for the better for this reason:  I've gained insight into taking steps toward personal growth by accepting three facts that inspire my comfort zone to expand, little by little:  I can't be all things to all people; one person can't meet all of my needs, and each time I work to identify my fears and figure out how to meet my needs in a well-balanced fashion, my sense of self awareness is enhanced, and rather than deeming myself guilty of being selfish or fragile, I feel healthy,  grounded and free to meet my needs, when confronted with life's complex realities.

At those times when inner conflict escalates, intuition suggests my need to tolerate anxiety rather than closing the door on brainstorming, too quickly or else something of great value may be irretrievably lost, unnecessarily.  In short, rather than allowing one side of my mind to win this battle for dominance over the other, too quickly, I've learned to tolerate anxiety as a signal that my subconscious is working to pass a deeper truth, which I've yet to grasp, into my conscious mind.  Actually, I think that last sentence defines my quest toward gaining insight into secret fears that hide behind defensive walls.

If, during times of inner conflict, anxiety compels me to close the door, too quickly, on some thing or someone who is deeply loved, I experience a sense of loss, which weighs heavy on my heart, mind and spirit.  Remember that book, Necessary Losses?  Well, someone should write a book titled Unnecessary Losses for this reason:  With insight gained into the fact that narrow comfort zones cause us to experience unnecessary loss, common sense suggests that we quest toward deeper truths, which inspire us to balance the wide range of emotions that vie for space inside every person's mind.

As my soulful quest to understand human complexity deepens, over time, my spirit has learned to focus most often on positivity, which inspires my heart and mind to work as one.  Each time all aspects of my being focus upon a path where compassion for everyone concerned is equally considered, I am blessed with another simple plan that emerges from the solution-seeking portion of my brain.  As the simplicity of these heartfelt plans prove highly insightful, time and again, peace of mind replaces inner conflict, naturally, all around—unless I offer the plan prematurely to a mind set not yet ready to expand toward considering forward-thinking trains of thought … and as that's often the case, I practice patience in order not to lose sight of hope …  

Okay—stop rolling your eyes and—tell yourself the truth—seriously: Have you never experienced a time in your life when you'd faced a choice that made your spirit fall to its knees, because the harsh realities of life hit home really, really hard?  Well, what if at that time of personal crises, all you'd needed to change a negatively focused mind set was a simple plan which had not yet emerged from your … soul?  Do you realize that the magic of the mind actually exists?  That miracles occur when mere mortals feel inspired to set aside nonsensical 'shoulds' in favor of consulting with the spirits of sages, who fly around the world in hopes of educating the masses by way of imparting self empowering messages in which deeper truths prove universal, classic and timeless?

When I speak of inner conflict, I'm not referencing 'good' fighting against 'evil' but rather logic, swirling within a stew pot where tumultuous emotions defy understanding, because anxiety grows so great as to cause you to slam the door on your think tank, too quickly, and in this way do we force honest emotion to retreat to a place of repression too deep for the conscious portion of the mind to fathom—and guess what?  Repressed emotion suggests repressed needs, and as repressing personal needs is not healthy, something's got to give … and since I know that to be true, we'll continue to dissect my quest into self discovery by diving so deep into my mind as to retrieve memories, post by post, thus allowing my conscious mind to make well-rounded decisions, today, by balancing my needs in healthy ways with the needs of those I love.  Whew!

BTW, if you wonder at my driving the concept of solving complex problems with simple plans ever more deeply into your head, here's the reason why I feel the need to do that, repeatedly:
Our brains are pre-programmed to fear negative consequences for this reason:  Otherwise, we'd throw caution to the winds and let passion run so wild as to blindly jump off cliffs.  On the other hand, we are also born with potential to absorb solution seeking tools that conjure up plans which set negatively focused thoughts aside in favor of meeting personal needs without taking needless risks, and here is the primary reason why I show up, every day:  I hope to emphasize the importance of exercising the postively focused, solution-seeking portion of our minds much more often than allowing anxiety to limit our scope to the point of closing the door on loving expansively, meaning free of undeserved guilt.  As life is far from black and white, I choose to think responsibly and creatively more often than fearfully and thus defensively …

Having worked to describe the depth of my quest to understand my emotional complexity over recent months, you can believe me when I say that my state of mind would still be in a bad way had I not developed the self trust to never give up on understanding that which I can't yet fathom about my own natural, emotional reactions, no matter what unexpected experience life offers me, next—I mean, from what I hear, this path toward old age is not for sissies—and thus do I plan to adventure through this fourth stage of my life with my eyes open so wide as to ensure that fear of disappointing others does not make me feel too anxious to think clearly.  Once I know what's causing anxiety to spike, I take a time out to calm myself in hopes that my heart, mind and generosity of spirit will, once again, percolate as a whole to conjure up a simple plan where needs are considered, all around.

As I'd rather not finish today's post with melancholy thoughts of life winding down, let's percolate upon this upbeat train of thought, instead:
We need not close the door on this one for this reason and on that one for that reason, when in truth, the heart, mind and spirit have the soulful capacity to love equally both here and there.

You see, just as our brains come equipped with cells enough to absorb new information over our lifetimes, our hearts are naturally expansive, suggesting that love in it's purest form erects no walls in need of taking down.  Once again, it's fear based comfort zones, which are in need of expansion when that which we were taught to feel guilty about during childhood is offered the chance to live and breathe freely once we've grow so insightful as to think clearly for ourselves.

If at this point you ask:  Annie, how in the world do you expand your own mindsets, I'd reply—When stymied, I know whom to go to for help, because expanding comfort zones suggests that two heads may prove better than one :)

And as that train of thought pulls into an upbeat station, I'll rest my tired mind after clarifying one more detail ...

Perhaps you've noticed that at times Cary's gender switches from he to she, and here's why that makes sense:  Cary is actually two people.  Cary, the man, is a geriatric therapist who helps me to understand troubling changes that began to take place between my mother and me after the death of my dad.  Cary, the woman, is a therapist who is trained in EMDR.  In the interest of writing with clarity and brevity, I began to bond their insights together, because for the most part, their combined words of wisdom, which I hope to impart to you, coax me to expand mind sets that kept me stuck in places that proved too narrow for my spirit to fly free of undeserved guilt …

And with that said, I hope you are enjoying a five star day ...
Your friend, Annie

PS
Though anxiety persists at a tolerable level, Will and I had the best time, last night.  Along with two additional couples, we went to the theater where a show of impersonators offered us lots of nostalgic fun.  Then afterward, at dinner, we six took turns telling each other family stories that were so funny as to create laughter that didn't let up for a couple of hours—and once again—laughter is the best medicine.  Hopefully, if my mind re-energizes, over night, we'll find a new story unfolding in tomorrow's post :)

Saturday, February 22, 2014

938. NGUOUY Part 102 INNER CONFLICT INTENSIFIES UNTIL REASONS FOR PERSONAL CRISES EMERGE

Being too tired to write, yesterday, I rested my mind.
Though my energy source is not fully charged, I feel like writing, so if you choose to ride sidekick, we'll see where my train of thought takes us, today.

In recent posts, you've played witness to turbulence taking control over my mind when inner conflict, concerning Mom's unspoken need of my presence at her party seemed to crash into Will's unspoken need of me to be strong.  You've watched my anxious state of mind grow ever more confounded, because that which had distressed me most of all escaped detection until I'd muscled my way through my own defensive wall, thus identifying the unnamed fear, which had undermined my sense of safety..

As I'd feared disappointing Mom and Will, my most important values, both of which prove vital to my spirit's survival, had dueled for dominance inside my head (be true to those you love/be true to yourself), and while engaged in that duel, my mind felt as tortured as a body tearing in half on a medieval rack until insight into freedom to place 'shoulds' aside and think for myself offered my downcast spirit sound reason to figure out how to expand my comfort zone, thus freeing my mind to be true to fulfilling my needs without dismissing the needs of those I love  ...

Over most of my life, I'd felt guilty when my needs conflicted with whatever my loved ones had needed of me.  Today, that has changed for the better for this reason:  I've gained insight into taking steps toward personal growth by accepting three facts that inspire my comfort zone to expand, little by little:  We can't be all things to all people; one person can't meet all of my needs, and each time I figure out how to meet my needs in a well-balanced fashion, my sense of self awareness in enhanced, and rather than feel selfish, I feel healthy.

At those times when inner conflict escalates, intuition suggests that if my intolerance to handle anxiety closes the door on brainstorming, too quickly, then something of great value may be irretrievably lost, unnecessarily.  In short, rather than allowing one side of my mind to win this battle for dominance over the other, too quickly, I've learned to tolerate anxiety as a signal that my subconscious is working to pass a deeper truth, which I've yet to grasp, into my conscious mind.  Actually, I think that last sentence defines the meaning of insight.

If, during times of inner conflict, anxiety compels me to close the door, too quickly, on some thing or someone who is deeply loved, I experience a sense of loss, which weighs heavy on my heart, mind and spirit.  Remember that book, Necessary Losses?  Well, someone should write a book titled Unnecessary Losses for this reason:  Ever since I've gained insight into the fact that narrow comfort zones cause us to experience unnecessary loss, it's made sense to quest toward deeper truths, which inspire me to balance the wide range of emotions that vie for space inside my mind.

As my soulful quest to understand emotional complexity deepens, over time, my spirit has learned to focus on positivity, which inspires my heart and mind to work as one, and each time all aspects of my being focus upon a path where compassion for everyone concerned is equally considered, another simple plan emerges from the solution-seeking portion of my brain.  As the simplicity of these heartfelt plans prove highly successful, time and again, peace of mind replaces inner conflict, naturally, all around …  

Okay—stop rolling your eyes and—tell yourself the truth—seriously: Have you never experienced a time in your life when you'd faced a choice that made your spirit fall to its knees, because the harsh realities of life hit home really, really hard?  Well, what if at that time of personal crises, all you'd needed to change your mind set was a simple plan which had not yet emerged from your … soul?  Do you realize that the magic of the mind actually exists?  That miracles occur when mere mortals feel inspired to set aside nonsensical 'shoulds' in favor of consulting with the spirits of sages, who fly around the world in hopes of educating the masses by way of imparting self empowering messages, which prove universal, classic and timeless?

When I speak of inner conflict, I'm not referencing 'good' fighting against 'evil' but rather logic, swirling within a stew pot where tumultuous emotions defy understanding, because anxiety grows so great as to cause you to slam the door on your think tank, too quickly, and in this way do we force honest emotion to retreat to a place of repression too deep for the conscious portion of the mind to fathom—and guess what?  Repressed emotion suggests repressed needs, and as repressing personal needs is not healthy, something's got to give … and since I know that to be true, we'll continue to dissect my quest into self discovery by diving so deep into my mind as to retrieve memories, post by post, thus allowing my conscious mind to make well-rounded decisions, today, by balancing my needs in healthy ways with the needs of those I love.  Whew!

BTW, if you wonder at my driving the concept of solving complex problems with simple plans ever more deeply into your head, here's the reason why I feel the need to do that, repeatedly:
Our brains are pre-programmed to fear negative consequences to save us from leaping blindly off cliffs.  On the other hand, we are also born with potential to absorb solution seeking tools that conjure up plans which set negatively focused thoughts aside in favor of meeting personal needs without taking needless risks, and here is the reason why I show up, every day:  I hope to emphasize the importance of exercising the problem-solving portion of our minds much more often than allowing anxiety to limit our scope to the point of closing the door on loving expansively, meaning free of undeserved guilt

Having described the depth of my quest to understand my emotional reactions over recent months, you can believe me when I say that my state of mind would still be in a bad way had I not developed the self trust to never give up on understanding that which I can't yet fathom about my own nartural, emotional complexities, no matter what unexpected experience life offers up, next—I mean, from what I hear, this path toward old age is not for sissies—and thus do I plan to adventure through this last stage of my life with my eyes open so wide as to ensure that at those times when fear of disappointing others makes me feel too anxious to think clearly, I take a time out to calm myself down in hopes that my heart, mind and generosity of spirit will, once again, work as a whole to conjure up a simple plan where needs are considered, all around.

As I can't finish today's post with this melancholy thought of life winding down, let's percolate upon this upbeat train of thought, instead:
There's no reason for fear to close the door on this one for this reason and on that one for that reason, when in truth, the heart, mind and spirit have the capacity to love equally both here and there.

You see, just as our brains come equipped with cells enough to absorb new information over our lifetimes, our hearts are naturally expansive, suggesting that love in it's purest, most mature form erects no walls in need of taking down.  Once again, it's the mind's narrow comfort zones, which are in need of expansion if that which we were taught to feel guilty about during childhood is offered the chance to live and breathe freely once we grow so insightful as to think clearly for ourselves.

If at this point you ask:  Annie, how in the world do you expand your own mindsets, I'd reply—When stymied, I know whom to go to for help, because expanding comfort zones suggests that two heads may prove better than one :)

And as that train of thought pulls into an upbeat station, I'll rest my tired mind after clarifying one more detail ...

Perhaps you've noticed that at times Cary's gender switches from he to she, and here's why that makes sense:  Cary is actually two people.  Cary, the man, is a geriatric therapist who helps me to understand troubling changes that began to take place between my mother and me after the death of my dad.  Cary, the woman, is a therapist who is trained in EMDR.  In the interest of writing with clarity and brevity, I began to bond their insights together, because for the most part, their combined words of wisdom, which I hope to impart to you, coax me to expand mind sets that kept me stuck in places that proved too narrow for my spirit to fly free of guilt …

And with that said, I hope you are enjoying a five star day ...
Your friend, Annie

Thursday, February 20, 2014

937 NGUOUY Part 101 THIS AND THAT ...

Thursday, February 20, 2014

I'm really tired, today, so I expect this post to be brief.

Though I'd thought to explain how the buzzers help the traumatized portion of my brain to re-adjust negative self perceptions to match reality, perhaps it's best to suggest that you google EMDR.

Upon learning how mental blocks are designed to work, I came to understand how I'd managed to disappear into myself each time I'd sat down to be jostled and insulted by bullies on that Hebrew Bus from Hell, four times a week (to and from temple on Tuesdays and to and from temple on Thursdays).

It was very hard to leave Mom on Monday.
I'd planned to stay longer but chose to fly home with Will for this reason:
Right before leaving our house to go to the airport to fly to the Midwest, the phone rang.  While the cab waited outside, Will took the call.  It was Dr. B's office with the results of Will's second psa.  The results were not good.  Understandably, Will was very quiet throughout our time with Mom.  Having Barry and David with us proved comforting.  Though it was hard to leave Mom, I didn't want Will to return to the desert alone.  Thank goodness, Mom understood.  Rather than waiting three months for his next test, Dr. B asked Will to come in and have his blood drawn, next week.  Wish us luck ...

Wonder what my mind will tell me to write, tomorrow.  Right now, my guess is as good as yours ...

Wednesday, February 19, 2014

936 NGUOUY Part 100 FREEING THE TERRIFIED CHILD OF UNDESERVED GUILT, AT LAST!!

October, 2013 ... Two weeks after Will's surgery:
I sit down to begin a self empowering session of EMDR
Cary hands me the buzzers, and I hold one in each hand
The buzzers within my fists are connected to a control unit by wires
Cary is holding the control unit, and
The connecting wires are dangling between us while
We regulate the speed of the buzzers with my comfort zone
Too fast?
Too slow?
Too intense?
Finally Goldilocks says:  Just right
While the buzzers alternate buzzing, first in my right hand
Then in my left and back and forth
I relate my breakthrough to Cary, who listens attentively until
I pause, and she says:
Annie—that was powerful—
The fact that you got the source of your fear to emerge, at home
Without EMDR is remarkable.

At that I answer:  Cary, I did EMDR on my own, every day, several times a day.  I'd lay in bed, focus my sight on the ceiling, and while asking myself the same questions that you always ask me, I'd move my eyes across the ceiling, from left to right and back again, repeatedly.  I chose to do that whenever my anxiety level felt so intolerable that I'd felt the need to scream.

Why didn't you scream?

That would have scared Will and David.

Annie, do you know which part of you needed to scream?

That question confuses me, so silence hangs heavy in the air ...

Annie, do you know which part of you cried and cried?

Without hesitation, I reply: The little girl inside me, who'd not developed a voice to speak up to this authority figure, who'd hurt her, repeatedly.  It was this little girl, who'd wept tears, repressed for all those years, when she'd felt helpless, alone and betrayed by an adult whom she'd trusted to protect her innocence.

When you think of being that little girl, how do you feel about yourself on a scale of one to ten?

I feel very bad!  So guilty of wrong doing!  On a scale of one to ten—Eleven!

How long did the little girl feel so bad and guilty, deep inside?

She still does.

Why?

Buzz - Buzz - Buzz - Buzz I let him do … I didn't stop him like I'd stopped all the boys, later, when I was dating …
My words dry up

You felt complicit?

Well, I guess so.  Yes.
Buzz - Buzz - Buzz - Buzz … And helpless and hopeless.  And worthless.

Why hopeless?

Buzz - Buzz - Buzz - Buzz … 

I was so alone, and I didn't know how to make him stop, and I couldn't tell anyone.

Why worthless?

I don't know—maybe, damaged goods …

So if you couldn't stop him, what did you do?

Buzz - Buzz - Buzz - Buzz …

I disappeared.  I felt nothing.  Saw nothing.  Heard nothing.  Remembered nothing.  Was nothing—I felt like a whore must feel while servicing a John.  I mean what little girl ever thinks she'll grow up to service the sexual needs of men? — Next thing I know, I hear myself say:  After dating Will for six months, we break up, and when I go to the beach with my friends, several boys, who'd taken my number, begin to call.  After a couple of weeks, I find Grandma rushing to answer the phone and having listened to her say Annie's not home and then hang up, I ask indignantly:
Grandma—what are you doing?
Too many boys at calling ... That call means one thing!
What's that?
You know!
Grandma, they're calling because they like my personality 

Though Grandma looks at me like I'm crazy, my reasoning makes perfect sense to me—I mean, why else would a girl like me win male attention …

I tell Mom what Grandma has been doing.  Mom speaks to Grandma.
Grandma isn't happy, but she stops hanging up.
And just as always, no one tells Dad—because peace at any cost means not developing a voice …

Annie, do you know why you remembered nothing about the abuse till we began to do EMDR?

I didn't have the strength to relive the terror—till now.  EMDR helps me to heal portions of self esteem, traumatized during childhood …

Cary nods and says:  Annie, your mental block did what a mental block is designed to do.  A mental block hides dreadful memories within your subconscious until you muster the emotional maturity to look reality in the face.  Once you acknowledge the person you are at your core, that's when insight is gained in terms of separating that which you are truly guilty of from that which you feel guilty of for this reason: You've been taught to adhere to a belief system that defines right and wrong until such time as society's narrow mind sets expand.  BTW, those who do not harbor dreaded mental blocks still feel guilty, undeservedly, because, just like you, they've been taught that certain feelings, thoughts, reactions and decisions are bad when in truth, they're actually healthy, because they're natural.

Having pondered upon Cary's train of thought for a moment, here is my response:  I think you're suggesting that every generation works to shed guilt shoveled into our minds by a belief system that's passed down to us by our elders—Though my sons' generation forms close friendships with both genders, that was not true of my generation.  Whereas my generation's narrow comfort zone had frowned on intermarriage of any kind, today's expanded comfort zone is working to embrace same sex marriage.  Today, it's common place to live together and even have children before marriage.  When it comes to forward thinking, I connect more readily with today's generation than my own.  

As my train of thought has wandered off track, Cary interjects with:  Annie can you offer up another reason as to why you didn't tell anyone right after the bullying on the van or the sexual bullying began?

While working to switch tracks, I look confused, so Cary asks:  Is there some reason why Mother Nature cast her spell of denial over you?

Buzz - Buzz - Buzz - Buzz …
Well, it had been my habit to keep my problems to myself.

Exactly.  So, if I ask you to review why that was true, what might you say, today?  (During each session of EMDR, we build upon details, which had emerged in sessions, past.)

After my baby sister died, I never wanted to see my mother unhappy.  First of all her depression scared me (scarred me?), so I didn't want to give her reason to frown in my direction.  Secondly, I loved her so much, and having witnessed the depth of her vulnerability, it seemed 'right' to shield her from worry by not sharing my problems with her.  I remember Mom telling others:  Annie always solves her problems. As an adult, I remember saying:  I don't know why this is true, but I can't say no to you.  And I sure couldn't tell my grandma.

Why not?

She'd look at me like garbage.

Really?  Instead of protecting you?

Well, that's how I must have felt at the time—I mean, she'd blamed my mom for the baby's death—and, later, she didn't trust me with boys, so who knows what fabrication may have shaped up inside her mind …

What about confiding in your father?

I couldn't.

Why not?

While the buzzers, take turns, buzzing away in each of my hands, this memory emerges as clear as a bell:
I remember my Dad fighting with my Grandma Ella about me…

I was about five or six, getting ready for bed in the living room, so as not to miss my favorite show, I Love Lucy.  I'd run into the bedroom, shared with Grandma, to get my PJ's, and while sitting on the floor in the middle of the living room rug, I began to take off my clothes in front of the TV.  That got Grandma so upset, she jumped off the couch and sternly admonished me with:  Shame shame!  At that, my dad leaped out of his arm chair and exclaimed:  Leave her alone!  She's just a little girl, and you'll not shame her like you did Jennie.  Annie's going to develop a healthy attitude toward her body, and after she's married, she'll enjoy sex!  With that, Grandma threw Daddy the look of death and muttering in Yiddish, she huffed, self-righteously, and sped out of the room.

I remember that swift, impassioned fight as if it had taken place, last night.  That fight had imprinted so deeply into my mind, I couldn't open up to my dad when sexual interaction, which had been forbidden, caused guilt to stir within me, several years later.  The fact that my dad had clearly directed me toward enjoying a healthy sex life after marriage filled me with this fear:  My father's passionate nature will kill this guy—and if my daddy's hot temper ends up in prison, that will be my fault.  Ever since my mom and grandma had busied themselves ministering to the safe keeping of my second baby sister, basking in the sunshine of daddy's smile had meant everything to me—I loved being the apple of his eye …

Silence grows heavy until I continue with:

Ever since my baby sister's death, I'd felt responsible for keeping everyone in my family safe and happy.  (Everyone in my family but me—suggesting that by focusing on fulling their needs, I'd been blind to dismissing my own.)

Since Janet's tragic death took place when I was three, my development into the peace keeper, who'd respected the needs of others while unwittingly ignoring my own, became habitual, early on.  As habits are hard to break, my mind stirs up feelings of guilt as soon as I place my deepest needs into the stew pot along with the needs of my loved ones.  Having gained insight into my adoption of this protective role, I understand my need to muster tons of courage before expressing my needs—unless I'm opening up to a person with whom I have sound reason to feel extraordinarily safe.  Generally, when my need to rock a boat arises, I go off by myself and think things through thoroughly in hopes of gaining clarity into the bigger the picture before expressing myself aloud. (Perhaps that's why Cary declared that if two opinions are circulating in the air, she'd not bet against mine.)

I always see myself as captain of the ship, suggesting that the welfare of everyone I love comes under my watch, 24/7.  If I so much as think of my needs, I feel guilty of being selfish, suggesting that I'm damned if I respect my needs and damned if I don't.  I'm a salmon, swimming through rapids, upstream.

Annie, That's quite a heavy burden you've chosen to carry forward on your own since the tender age of three.  You'd do well to express how you feel about this without fear or guilt …

I know that.  I have been.  Selectively.  If the words can't float out naturally, I figure the timing's not ripe … most people listen so defensively …

Selectivity is important.

Yes.  I've learned that the hard way.  It's so frustrating to know that while my mind is working, patiently, in hopes of connecting, meaningfully, people, listening with a defensive attitude, tend to misunderstand my intention and react as though having been attacked.  People who lead with negative attitudes expect to receive negativity back.

I've also gained insight into the fact that discretion, concerning my privacy, is as important to the good health of my spirit as openness proves to be. I also know that 'knowing' is one thing, whereas 'feeling' at ease with emotional reactions, thoughts and decisions, which, though natural, had once made me feel guilty, takes work in terms of personal growth.

Annie, you can't satisfy all the people all the time ...

Well, I came mighty close to doing exactly that for most of my life …

At what cost to your spirit?

Well, if I made others happy, my spirit thrived …

That's all well and good as long as you don't deny your deepest needs indefinitely.  Annie, I hope that with time, you'll embrace inner conflict, because conflict proves necessary to personal growth.  You've foisted undeserved guilt onto yourself for much too long.  No matter how far you stretch toward others, you get mad at yourself for not stretching far enough.  People sense that as a vulnerability, suggesting this:  If you give yourself away for free, others will expect much more from you than they'll offer back.  When you're selfless, overlong, you open the door to others growing self-ish.  If this is your pattern then it's no wonder that your spirit wears out.  You can only pour milk from a pitcher for so long before the good health of your spirit find's itself in need of replenishment … healthy relationships depend upon division of labor, suggesting, reciprocity. 

Hmmm—I think—What about tis better to give than receive?  Then, my mind, acting like a bumper car, bumps into 'balance in all things'.  And while I ponder over that dicotomy of thought, Cary asks:
Annie, how do you feel about yourself, right now?

Buzz - Buzz - Buzz - Buzz ... 

I feel like a very good person.  Actually, I see that I've been too good to be true to myself at my core!  In order to be true to myself, I need to stop feeling guilty of wrong doing whenever I choose to meet my needs in such a deeply considerate fashion as to ensure that my train of thought does not dismiss the needs of those I love.  There's so much to learn about the intricacies of the human brain.  These issues are so deep that, right now, at this very minute, I don't feel guilty of wrong doing, at all. I feel clear-headed and strong … and confused and vulnerable, all at once.

How so?

Well, I'm always on my way to a better place—and it's my habit to entice my loved ones to take a taste of my solution-seeking plans before they push that plate away.  As I've never taken anyone to a bad place, that fact makes me feel strong.  The fact that I'm not sure of where my path will lead to next gives rise to vulnerability, because no aspect of life comes with a guarentee …

Next thing I know, my train of thought switches tracks:
Though I remember very little about what he did with me, I sure wouldn't let him get me alone if he was alive, today.  I'd thought I was done giving myself undeserved guilt trips whenever my needs conflict with the needs of those I love; however, clarity suggests that I still capitulate much too readily, or if I do stand my ground and choose to meet my needs in a reasonable fashion, afterward, I give myself a hard time …  Wow!  The learnings of youth are hard to readjust!

At this Cary smiles and asks:
How would you like to feel about yourself?

Buzz - Buzz …

I'd like to feel free of being prey!
Gosh!  I've felt like prey all my life!
I'd like to feel free to put down this baton of respecting the needs of others above my own for an hour or two without worry of being locked in the stocks, left out in the cold to die, all alone!  I want to stop feeling selfish when my needs conflict with loved ones.  I want to feel free to treat my needs with the respect they deserve without undeserved guilt creating inner conflict inside my mind.  I want clarity to blow confusion to kingdom come—that's my bucket list.

Once again, Cary keeps me on track:
When did your feeling of being selfish start?

I guess when Janet died and such a swift, dark wind of grief crashed into our lives that I couldn't find sunshine on anyone's face.  At first, Grandma declared the baby's death her fault; then her mind flipped out, and she blamed my mom, and life got scary-crazy, because as the caboose on their train of thought—I'd hung my head and blamed myself—because what three year old wants an adorable baby sister stealing all the limelight, which had been mine!  At three years old, all I could fathom was that life clouded up after Janet disappeared.  All I wanted was to find a closet in which to hide from all the defensive angst that blew hot wind, back and forth, between adults, who had no clue that with every breath I drew, their torment was inhaled into my alert, little mind.  Then at the end of each confounding day, Daddy's key would turn in the lock, and as soon as he'd walk through the door, all that angst would magically evaporate, suggesting that he never knew what took place between Mom and Grandma.  Whenever Daddy's presence was felt, life seemed kind of normal, again—I mean, everyone was very sad, but no one acted crazy.  Upon reflection, it's no wonder why I thought Daddy could shield me from storm clouds, which had gathered, like crazy, in the morning and then blew away as soon as he'd walk in and swoop me up into his strong, muscular arms—and now it makes perfect sense to think that I'd grow up to emulate my father's full bodied spirit—because if I shined as bright as a sunbeam, Daddy was the sun …

Annie, with so much blaming taking place in your home—did you blame yourself during the abuse?

I don't know. I mean, well, what if my participation in forbidden acts had felt … pleasant?  If that had been true, then feeling pleasured by that which is deemed bad must have made me feel as guilty as hell!

Annie, on a scale of one to ten, do you blame yourself for Janet's death, right now?

No.  Not at all.

Annie, on a scale of one to ten, do you blame yourself for having been abused by an adult whom you'd trusted and loved?

No.  Not at all.

Annie, on a scale of one to ten, how do you feel about yourself, right now?

I feel strong.
I feel like a very good, smart, capable, caring, compassionate, self disciplined, deep-thinking, solution seeking person.  I'd not want to switch places with anyone else.  I'm proud of the person I work, daily, to become.  When hoping to learn, no one listens more eagerly, openly or humbly than me. When working at realizing a goal, no one works more determinedly than me.  When I play, no one proves more spontaneous and enthusiastic and mischievous at creating fun than me.  When anyone needs help, I show up.  When someone demonstrates vulnerability, I point out their strengths.  Ever since I became a role model for my sons, it's been utterly natural for me to adopt Gandhi's mantra by working to become the change I hope for the world.  I nourish my spirit by feeding my mind positive focus, laced with hope.  What I can't figure out is why I still feel so confused about respecting my needs …

Cary smiles.  Annie, just as with inner conflict, your sense of confusion is a good thing.

How so?

Confusion suggests that your old mind set is in the act of expanding.  Inner conflict and confusion precede personal growth—and you are always in the act of growing.  Annie, do you feel pretty?

Without hesitation, I frown with discomfort and reply:  That's a problem for me—I feel scared when anyone comments on my looks—I just can't go there—I feel scared, right now …

Cary nods and says something I don't catch about denial and comfort zones before she changes the subject:  We've covered a lot of ground, today.  Your conscious mind has so many insights to process between today and our next session.  Is this a good place to stop?  Do you have any scary feelings that need to be contained before you leave?

As this is the way most of our EMDR sessions end, a resurgence of self confidence rides out on a smile while I hear myself say:
Nothing is scaring me that I can't handle.  This is a good place to end for today.  The woman I've grown to be will take good care of the little girl, who fears being left alone.  As long as my conscious adult is controlling my brain, this sweet, little girl will not have to fend for herself.  No matter how fearfully dark our life becomes, she can depend upon my adult strengths to keep her safe.

At this, Cary, smiling widely, turns off the buzzers, and after I open my clenched fists and place the buzzers in my lap, I look at my palms and say:  Not bad.

You see, sometimes, after a session of EMDR, deep grooves are seen where my nails have dug into tender layers of skin …


Now, I offer up my credit card (Healing from subconscious pain does not come cheap, so I don't see Cary, every week.), and while hugging each other, Cary suggests resting my active mind by placing my faith in my brain's ability to percolate on its own.  I smile and nod with understanding.


Once I'm outside, I walk toward my car, breathing freely, thus deeply, for the first time in many weeks.  Now that my mind and body feel fully oxygenated, my spirit feels re-energized, so after switching on the engine, I turn up the volume on the music that my thumb drive pumps throughout my car and into my heart, because in addition to knowing myself to be a really good person, I feel like a really good person.  I feel like a person who does not have reason to feel torn in half by guilt.  I know myself to consciously take good care of everyone I love.  And from now on, I'll focus on taking good care to respect my needs—within reason—instead of sending myself on guilt trips that I don't deserve.

As to the buzzers … well, just in case you'd rather not scroll back umpteen posts to review the part these buzzers play during EMDR therapy, please, tune in tomorrow :)

February 18, 2014

While developing from a child into a young woman, I'd had good reason to fear the look of lust in the eyes of teen-aged boys.  When men had looked at me, admiringly, I'd fearfully clammed up, and watched my self confident traits retreat mysteriously into a deep, dark, scary cavelike place.  I'd no clue that men were not demeaning me, because I'd so readily demeaned myself.  And now it's clear that the reason I'd felt so readily demeaned was because rather than feeling pretty, an admiring male made me feel like—prey …

Remember that rabbit screaming in the night while a pack of cyotes are feasting upon living flesh?  Being a desert dweller suggests that the food chain and survival of the fittest exist right outside my bedroom window in the still of night—though not every night.  Seriously, every once in a while is bad enough.  Thank goodness, I'm not that scared rabbit, any more.  Today, I'm a strong minded woman with a deep thinking brain that's attached to a clear minded voice—mess with me—hear me roar—with grace!

As I've been writing for five hours, straight, your friend Annie is about to respect her need to take a break …

Hmmm—these past several posts were not easy to write, but write them I did, so let's hope I've recouped enough inner strength to relate high school stories, some time soon …