1076 NO! NO! NOT AGAIN! REVISITED 19

15A
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 body itched and my spirit cried silently, night after night…

(We follow this path, blinding ourselves to deeper truth for years until, one day, the mask we don't know we wear slips off, and the conflicted ache to release and feed unmet needs, which prove existential in nature, stares back at us as naked as naked can be …)

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 any response that resembled 'No'.  Why?  Pleasers can't tolerate conflict.   Conflict, most especially inner conflict, floods the mind with mental confusion.  Mental confusion stimulates anxious static.  Anxiety stimulates the survival instinct to fight, flee or freeze.  This instinct eats into logic like a team of termites, tunneling through the framework that supports a well tended home.
*Actually, I wonder if the main source of inner conflict, which causes anxiety to heighten, today, comes from absorbing too many mixed messages as societal dictate changes from this to that.  I mean, think snot this:  for thousands of years it was a man's world.  Then women won the vote, took the pill and revolution, including the sexual revolution swept societal dictate into a maelstrom that's yet settled down enough to offer a new comfort zone that feels  natural to both genders throughout the world (more later)

Each time I'd look in the mirror, this persona, which I'd unknowingly adopted at three, showed me to be a funny, light hearted, self-confident leader, staring back.  As my accomplishments were many and diverse, my smile was as sincerely sturdy as an iron shield, and since I'd believed my persona to be all of me,  I'd no clue that my anxious itch was 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 that rare shot of honesty that expresses what we really feel inside."

"You think I have a honeyed tongue?"

"Uh huh."  Then smiling, I added, "And—the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree."

“But Annie, no matter how much we care or 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.  If conflict escalates with a person we think to know well, and if we find ourelves listening to perceptions, which make no sense, at all, then 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—as deeply as we think—our relationships may not be as balanced as we'd like to believe.  Some, who've 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 thought in mind: Even people-pleasers can’t please all of the people all of the time.  And that includes the people we hope to please, most.  Moments fraught with conflict, contradiction, confusion or anxiety create tension, all around. Once we'd consciously acknowledge that fact, we can stop flinging tension, blindly, back and forth, and make good use our whole brains to seek solutions that serve everyone's needs.  *The more I learn about taming my anxiety, the more i'm able to calmly and clearly work through conflict that creates confusion on the spot.

I need an example of how you control anxiety from escalating during conflict, Annie.

Well, you know how I taught the boys to stand behind their Line of Control?

Vaguely.

Well, in order to teach it to them, effectively, I had to role model self discipline, consistently, myself.  With consistency I've become practiced at taking a time out on the spot as soon as conflict erupts, suggesting that my sense of logic stimulates my creative center to land on simple plans that resolve conflicts and problems, which otherwise prove repetitive.

While Mom reflects quietly, my mind, being on a roll, is not yet ready to wind down, so I go on:  I’m really thankful that Lauren and I did not grow up in an acidic home where children mimic parents, who, letting tension get the best of them, spew sarcasm, back and forth.  It’s hard to sense what others feel deep inside once their defensive walls shut you out of their hearts.  Unfortunately, we can't problem solve effectively (meaning mutually respectfully) without identifying our own defensive patterns.  As defensive patterns prove self-defeating, that's one reason why we face the same problems, popping up, 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 the parent in charge has no clue of what's actually taking place behind his mask or hers …

     

At this point, we both grow quiet, and while musing silently, this train of thought chugs through my mind:

*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 every brain, every day.  *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).  Give him that toy and say you're sorry, right now!  Do what I say because I told you to or else!  If you don't come right now, I'll leave you in this store, all alone—Lots of mixed messages, messing with clarity and self esteem.  Lots of shameful, fear-driven obedience.  Very little in the way of mutual respect.  In the aftermath of Janet's death, everyone grieved so deeply, I didn’t know who to approach with my confusion and fear.  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 in that I'd retreat into myself when confusion, conflict or repetitive 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 at the age of eleven that my shield couldn't contain all the tears I'd swallowed back and hidden from myself.  Makes sense that I'll grow into a problem-solving adult, whose focus directs itself at easing the pain of others, rather than looking in, unmasking and addressing my own.  *Couldn't remove a mask that I didn't know I wore—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 still had no clue in 2002 that in the aftermath of my dad's death, my sixth sense had begun to search in earnest to uncloak a secret that my defense system hid from my conscious mind.)  At this point, I begin to muse, aloud …