2015
Just as streams of intuitive thought (which
Deepen my awareness of personal
Traits, attitudes, mindsets, fears, values and
Beliefs that are processing through
Transition from one stage of emotional growth
Toward the next) inspire me to experience
Aha! moments that lift my spirit, there are times when
An Aha! moment causes anxiety to spike ...
As transitional change may generate pain before gain ...
It's not unusual for Will to comfort me on
Those nights when I can feel intuition stirring
My awareness to grapple with an insight, concerning
A vulnerability, which I'd denied as my own, and
While this insight into deeper truth is
Determinedly attempting to permeate my wall of denial
My conscious mind can't help but feel anxious about
Acknowledging a trait, attitude, mindset, fear or belief that
My subconscious is about to expose before
Readiness to consciously accept this awareness is mine
As the naked truth is often hard to accept
It's not unusual to see anxious tears
Cascading down my cheeks before I can
Pinpoint that which is causing my mind to
Feel so heavy as to drag
My high flying spirit to flag at half mast
If you ask what causes tears to flow from my eyes?
I'd reply: Grief
If you ask grief over what loss?
I'd reply:
A sense of loss is experienced each time
A vulnerability, which my ego
Had denied as my own, slips through
My defensive wall of denial, and
I come to see that this vulnerability, which
Had been tucked into my subconscious while
I'd judged others (who had openly demonstrated
This insecurity) as being lesser, somehow, than me until
Insight into self awareness forced my eyes to
Open so wide as to see myself as I really am ... And
Each time an expanded view of myself proves not so
Pretty a picture as I'd previously painted of myself
My sense of loss feels as sorrowful as
My ego feels shamed ... Until
My friend, Humility, comforts me by
Reminding me to stop beating myself up in favor of
Being as kind to my admission of ownership of
Every human vulnerability as I would with a friend
And each time my intelligence rescues me
From roasting my humiliation on a spit in the fires of
Damnation, overlong, my sense of
Dignity and grace embrace this
Newly identified vulnerability, and once
It has been integrated into my conscious mind
My sense of wholeness regains it's
Lost sense of inner strength and that which
Has been lost and recovered countless times is
Yet again, mine ... And if you ask:
Annie what has been lost and recovered
Each time you accept a vulnerability, which
You'd denied as your own?
I'd reply:
That which is recovered, over time, proves to be ...
My peace of mind ...
Though Will understands the fact that
'Something' that happens, today, can trigger
An attack of PTSD, causing anxiety and
Sorrow to surface from
A subconscious pocket in an unidentified state
It's natural for my husband to ask:
Annie, what's wrong?
This time, my initial reply was not: I don't know.
This time, I replied without hesitation:
'Everything and nothing, rolled into one' ...
Next thing I knew, intuitive thought took center stage
And upon opening my mouth
I felt every bit as surprised as Will to listen to
The emergence of subconscious fear speak aloud:
When the kids were young
I'd contemplate how best to
Encourage each one to open up to me in hopes that
My adult sense of logic could offer a child's mind
Reason to muster the courage to
Set defensive bravado aside in favor of
Brainstorming with me until clarity offered us
Insight into what might cause another child to
Purposely pour salt into my child's
Wounded emotional vulnerabilities, which
For the most part, are common to one and all
During their youth, I coached
Barry, Steven and David to absorb five tools necessary to
Rebalance their strong emotional reactions before
Their composure got too far out of line ...
Though I've modeled those tools for all three
Lately, I feel need for an effective coach to
Empower me to maintain control over MY reactions when
The one who feels more vulnerable than I can believe is ME!
Like, right now, I feel sad. Scared. Confused. And Mad—
All rolled into one ... and
Since so much negativity coursing through me
Feels overwhelming, my spike in anxiety
Is signaling my adrenal glands to
Release so much adrenalin that all I can think to do is
Fight, flee or freeze, suggesting that
A smoke bomb of confusion causes all sense of
Logical thought to fall apart, suggesting my having
Become so limbic as to feel as scatterbrained as
Chicken Little, who ran around shouting:
The sky is falling! What shall we do?
I think it's important to note that there are times when
My power of intuitive thought gets busy unpacking
An unprocessed piece of subconscious baggage before
My conscious mind has mustered the courage
To fortify itself with this fact:
Historically, I've learned to embrace
Insight into deeper truth, concerning
Unprocessed insecurities (which have
Caused 'the adult Annie' to feel as bad and unlovable as
I'd felt all those years ago, when Janet died and
Three year old me felt terrified, because ...
No matter how winsome I was, no smiles shone
Beams of sunlight in my direction for
A much longer expanse of time than
The deeply confused mind of
A small, frightened tot could fatham—
I mean seriously, small children are so
Egocentric as to blame themselves for
Everything that happens, and if
Swirling forces of grief and anger
Permeated the emotional environment of
Our apartment, week after week after week
I must have done something too terrible for words!
In fact, at three, I had no words to express
The complexity of that which
I'd felt and feared most of all:
I was such a bad girl as to have condemned myself
Unworthy of love ... However ...
Since my sense of logic was too undeveloped to process
Any thought that proved as complex as that
This unprocessed fear of seeing myself as
Unlovable settled into a subconscious
Pocket of my mind, and every since I was three
Any anger that fingered me as lacking in perfection
Triggered that subconscious reaction to
Emerge in the form of PTSD—which
Blindsights the most intelligent mind with
Irrationality, no matter how old and educated
Three year old Annie becomes ...
Today, when I feel—
Sad. Scared. Confused. And Mad
All rolled into one ... and
All of that negativity makes me feel
Anxious to the point overwhelming
My conscious mind—I realize that
Something is triggering an episode of PTSD, which is
In some bizarre way related to Janet's death or to
The 'secret' abuse that I'd repressed from
Conscious awareness, over most of my life—because
Both of those terrifying, unprocessed experiences made me feel
So bad, unlovable and unsafe as to create anxiety beyond reason ...
And anxiety beyond reason defines PTSD to a tee ...
As it's not unusual for combustible emotion to
Ride out on a river of tears while
My conscious mind is working to
Identify, understand and gain control over
An episode of PTSD, Will, working to
Comfort me, asks me questions, which encourage
The logical side of my think tank to
Engage with his until adrenalin production
Subsides, freeing the intelligent, brainstorming portion of
My mind to feel calm enough to
Pick up my iPad, click on blog and
Contemplate strings of insights by
Reviewing my last few posts, while
Will turns over and goes to sleep
And while I'm reviewing posts
Previously penned, new insights ignite, and
Thus do I write in the dark of night, suggesting that
Intuitive thought pens as much for my edification as
For those of you, who choose to
Work your way through many of my complex
Streams of conscious thought before
My confusion clarifies during the editing process
Though it's true that, generally speaking
New strings of insight—which eventually permeate
My sense of logic with self confidence, concerning
My mental strengths—calm the agitated reaction of
My conscious mind, that was not the case when
This post was written, several weeks back
In fact, while reading through previously published posts in
The dark of that particular night, I felt
A primal sense of dread breaking through my wall of denial
And as insight into a very scary, deeper truth
Hit my conscious mind with the knockout power of
A brick cracking open my head, Will awoke as
I heard myself exclaim aloud:
Will—I'm terrified of old age!
And when I look in the mirror, I see my mother!
But Annie, why would that terrify you?
Your mother was beautiful.
Will, I didn't mean that literally
I love it when people say I resemble her
I'm not talking about my mother's beauty
And I'm not talking about the side of my mother
That knew to turn a brave face to the world after Dad died
I'm referring to the mother who had no clue that
She'd misdirected so much of
Her frustration and unhappiness at me
I'm thinking of all the frustration I'd stuffed
Year after year, in hopes of
Relieving Mom's loneliness with loving kindness
I worry about where much of my repressed frustration, which
May still be pent up, deep inside subconscious pockets of
My mind, may be released as we continue to grow old
I'd thought to have worked through my sadness and anger, but
Intuitive thought is suggesting that's not true
Just as Mom had no clue that she was not true to herself, through
And through, after Dad's death, I had no clue that
I was not true to myself, either!
Mom denied taking her anger out at me
And I denied how angry I was at her—
I mean, how could I not deny my anger?
What kind of daughter gets angry at a mother she adores, once
That mother is nearing 100 years old??!!!
When we hide the truth of our emotions behind denial's walls
Our conscious minds can't be true to the turbulence of
Emotional reactions that our defensive systems repress deep inside ...
After Will and I listened to my repressed fear voice itself aloud
Will said: Annie, you're not looking like your mother as much as
You're sounding like her!
To which my strong sense of conviction replied ...
Will, I think you're confused, because you're not
Hearing what I'm saying. What I'm referencing has
Nothing to do with my looks ... and actually
I'm not sounding like my mother, at all
My frustration is focused on my inability to
Create change for the better while
Mom was still alive, just as she couldn't create
Change for the better when her mom was alive
My fear is focused on the negative momentum of
The on-going power struggle in our extended family, which
Though not mine to resolve
Tries to keep me entangled in a web of pain that
Has done nothing but worsen over these past FORTY years
Years ago, I reached the point where I could no longer listen to
Same-old-same-old without losing my hold on sanity, and
Here's how my mindset DIFFERS from Mom's:
Whereas I continue to own up to the depth of my emotional reactions
My mother's defensiveness repeatedly denied ownership of
Her negative reactiveness, which dropped on me, after
Dad passed away
In fact, Mom's denial of deeper truth, concerning
Her anger and fear at being left alone for the first time in
Her entire life, made conversations between us grow ever more
Frustrating, year in and year out.
As long as Mom's anger and fear hit
Her wall of denial, confusion reigned supreme, and
Nothing I said or did in hopes that common sense might
Soothe the tension, which arose between us, made
Sense to her, at all, and
As she continued to deflect any attempt on anyone's part to
Brainstorm toward solutions, which require clarity, concerning
Reality, eventually, all I could do to minimize my frustration was
To be quiet, hold her hand and tell her
How much I loved her and that she was the family treasure, but
My hope to minimize her frustration ... and mine ... met with success for
Only minutes before she'd initiated conversations, which
Never failed to cycle round toward denial and
Frustration, again and again. And again—till I thought I'd lose my mind.
Who would believe that each time we were alone
Mom's conversations revolved around
Loss and death, and as nothing I'd said could
Keep her spirit afloat, I'd drop her off and watch my spirit
Drown in my tears while driving myself home
Thank God, I sought out therapy when she'd denied needing it!
Because therapy led me to be diagnosed with episodes of PTSD for
This reason: Each time I tried to connect with Mom in a meaningful way
And failed—the subconscious reaction of the three year old child, who
Had been unable to inspire her mother's smile to reappear—took
Control over my logical mind—and until therapy encouraged me to
Create new, healthy patterns for my neurons to travel—I was
Unknowingly as lost in the past as was Mom!
And then, things went from bad to worse, for this reason:
As long as Mom remained in denial, while I worked to recognize where
I was in denial, our state of emotional turmoil worsened—until
I learned to differentiate my reaction from hers without separating from
Spending time with her. And as that period of transition, on my part
Demanded more courage than I could believe ... eventually
My mental processes wore out, because in addition to our confusion
I was taking care of David, whose recovery from
Wwo spine surgeries, ten days apart, had
Left his neurosurgeon in a quandary
As to whether our youngest son would ever be able to function without
The intensity of pain that was driving him half out of his mind ... and
Somehow ... all of these memories, converging, together, are
Causing me to feel terrified about what may be
In store for me and our sons as I continue to age ...
At this point, I know that this bout of anxiety won't let loose of
My mind until I can pull today's train of thought into
The station where I can unload this heavy sense of baggage, concerning
Fear of aging, which my subconscious has been lugging forward
(Probably since I was a child, watching my grandma's vulnerability
Weighing heavy on my mom's mind, day in and day out)
I think tonight's vulnerability may be offering me the key that will
Open my conscious mind to receive whatever this subconscious fear about
Aging proves to be, and once that insight into
Familial patterns of aging soaks into my conscious mind, my fear will be
More easily contained for this reason:
So far, I've worked through conflicts with my sons by
Conversing in mutually respectful ways that differ greatly from
Familial patterns of dominance vs. subservience with which
I grew up, suggesting that
As I age, the depth of my awareness of my sons' need for wings
Will NOT disappear into thin air if I find myself old, widowed and alone ...
And by jove that's it! The insight I've been questing toward!
And as this post has just pulled into the next station in
An unending line of stations
Let's press pause, right here, so that
Today's train of thought—concerning my fear of aging as did
My mom or her mom or my dad's mom or Will's mom—
Has time to percolate until my peace of mind, concerning
My personal pattern of working to strengthen my mind and
Nourish my spirit, has brewed into such a richly roasted insight as to
Re-energize my self assurance with this fact:
It has been my history to expand narrow mindsets absorbed during
My youth as I carve out my own positively focused path upon which
My old lady neurons will tap dance—not just in public—but
Most importantly, in future years when
Each of my sons chooses to enjoy
One-on-one time with their dear, dotty, corny, old mum ... :)
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