I was thinking, should I be posting this stuff on a public blog? It may still all be part of the validation thing, that I am wishing someone would write back and confirm what I am thinking and going through. I have journaled for over twenty years. I have a distinct memory of starting to journal, I was walking alone and thinking to myself, but actually I was thinking to someone? Who? Doesn't matter, I was imagining someone listening to my thoughts and this was comforting to me. Maybe it's loneliness. I have always journaled with the idea that someone will read it and understand. I have come to this realization before and cut myself off from journaling. I don't think this was a good move. What's so wrong with writing to someone? Even if an non-existent listener is unrealistic, I'm still getting my thoughts together and processing them. I feel I have made discoveries and come to understand things through journaling. Nonetheless, I judge myself and motives as weak and I feel like I'm sort of cheating. I've come to this realization before and completely removed my ability to journal. I've thought about doing that again by deleting this blog. But I don't know what if thinking and processing to a pretend listener isn't so bad, especially if I'm doing some emotional healing at the same time.
I think the problem is the validation. I want to be free from this need. I want to be able to validate myself? Not need validation from others? DEFINITELY that. I do not want to need validation or approval from others. I work on this everyday. I am trying a daily affirmation dealing with this, but I'm not sure if I'm going about it the best way. Affirmations need to be positive, not negative. "I do not need approval" is negative but I don't know how turn it into something positive.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
beginning affirmations
I read that affirmations can change the way you think and feel about yourself. By repeating them, you are letting them sink into your sub conscious. You don't have to believe in them.
This is gives me hope.
My anxiety workbook has a whole chapter on affirmations and a long list of sample affirmations that you can use. I found these to be helpful. I made little flash cards for myself and was pretty good at practicing them for awhile. I would repeat them while I walked the dog. I think they helped, but I got bored with them and stopped. I also stopped writing in a journal and trying any self-help at all. I decided that I should be over all my issues so therefore I shouldn't be working on them. But my wounds have not healed and I think I would be better off if I did a bit more work. There is no time limit.
I experienced an event that triggered a mild but long lasting anxiety attack. A co-worker accused me of getting her in trouble with our boss. It was an unfair and unfounded accusation. A rational response would have been to just ignore her, casually blow her off along with her accusations. But the confrontation triggered something because of my childhood, and when I say childhood, I mean childhood, teens and even early 20s.
When I was in my second year of school, I was doing an internship. I was extremely proud of what I was doing and one day I stopped by my mother's house on the way home. It was summer and she was sitting, as usual, on the front steps but when I got closer I saw that she was upset and in her red-hot angry mode. It wasn't a good time to drop by. As I was walking back to my car, my step-dad walked up to me--he had been in the back yard, or just drove up, I don't know--and he said something about not being welcome there. I was all dressed up and felt good about myself, I even remember the dress I was wearing. The way he said it--cold, angry. I think I said something about coming to talk to my mom, and not him--that was probably the most defiant thing I had ever said to him. She made no motion and said nothing, just the anger. I said something about calling her later and he might have said something more, I don't know. I wish I could remember the drive home or anything about how I felt after. How incredibly painful, unbearably painful. He always acted as if I had an agenda, even from a young age, he treated me as the enemy and she did nothing about it. This encounter in the yard, one might imagine that he and I had fought about something, that he had something, anything, no matter how small, that he could twist out of context and blame me for. But that's the crazy absurd part. I never, never crossed him. He terrified me. If he would have included me in his circle with his "real" children, I would have been as loyal to him as they were, loyal to the core. But I was on the outside. Just writing this makes me feel anxious. I have always feared him, even though I haven't lived under the same roof with him for 20 years. I remember in the early years after I moved out. I was still talking to my mother and she was still making an effort to remain connected to my daughter and I. And it was an effort, it cost her. Every time she saw us, she paid a price.
Anyway, I remember having to psych myself up to call their house and I would rehearse what I would say if he answered. I always feared that he would snap at me over the phone, which he did sometimes. I don't remember the exact "conversation" which influenced my decision to not call anymore, but it was something similar to the front yard incident. I told her I would no longer call, but if she wanted to call, she was always welcome. Years later I told her that I would not go to her house anymore. This was a great excuse for her to not to contact us anymore, which she didn't.
Damn it, Damn it, when am I going to move on from this? Yes, it's total rejection from my parents which has always caused me to have toilet level self esteem, but I have worked on myself!! I have been to therapy, read books, journaled, talked to my loving understanding husband. And still here I am, writing this sad pathetic shit.
This is gives me hope.
My anxiety workbook has a whole chapter on affirmations and a long list of sample affirmations that you can use. I found these to be helpful. I made little flash cards for myself and was pretty good at practicing them for awhile. I would repeat them while I walked the dog. I think they helped, but I got bored with them and stopped. I also stopped writing in a journal and trying any self-help at all. I decided that I should be over all my issues so therefore I shouldn't be working on them. But my wounds have not healed and I think I would be better off if I did a bit more work. There is no time limit.
I experienced an event that triggered a mild but long lasting anxiety attack. A co-worker accused me of getting her in trouble with our boss. It was an unfair and unfounded accusation. A rational response would have been to just ignore her, casually blow her off along with her accusations. But the confrontation triggered something because of my childhood, and when I say childhood, I mean childhood, teens and even early 20s.
When I was in my second year of school, I was doing an internship. I was extremely proud of what I was doing and one day I stopped by my mother's house on the way home. It was summer and she was sitting, as usual, on the front steps but when I got closer I saw that she was upset and in her red-hot angry mode. It wasn't a good time to drop by. As I was walking back to my car, my step-dad walked up to me--he had been in the back yard, or just drove up, I don't know--and he said something about not being welcome there. I was all dressed up and felt good about myself, I even remember the dress I was wearing. The way he said it--cold, angry. I think I said something about coming to talk to my mom, and not him--that was probably the most defiant thing I had ever said to him. She made no motion and said nothing, just the anger. I said something about calling her later and he might have said something more, I don't know. I wish I could remember the drive home or anything about how I felt after. How incredibly painful, unbearably painful. He always acted as if I had an agenda, even from a young age, he treated me as the enemy and she did nothing about it. This encounter in the yard, one might imagine that he and I had fought about something, that he had something, anything, no matter how small, that he could twist out of context and blame me for. But that's the crazy absurd part. I never, never crossed him. He terrified me. If he would have included me in his circle with his "real" children, I would have been as loyal to him as they were, loyal to the core. But I was on the outside. Just writing this makes me feel anxious. I have always feared him, even though I haven't lived under the same roof with him for 20 years. I remember in the early years after I moved out. I was still talking to my mother and she was still making an effort to remain connected to my daughter and I. And it was an effort, it cost her. Every time she saw us, she paid a price.
Anyway, I remember having to psych myself up to call their house and I would rehearse what I would say if he answered. I always feared that he would snap at me over the phone, which he did sometimes. I don't remember the exact "conversation" which influenced my decision to not call anymore, but it was something similar to the front yard incident. I told her I would no longer call, but if she wanted to call, she was always welcome. Years later I told her that I would not go to her house anymore. This was a great excuse for her to not to contact us anymore, which she didn't.
Damn it, Damn it, when am I going to move on from this? Yes, it's total rejection from my parents which has always caused me to have toilet level self esteem, but I have worked on myself!! I have been to therapy, read books, journaled, talked to my loving understanding husband. And still here I am, writing this sad pathetic shit.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Disaproval
Some will disapprove of me or not like me for reasons entirely beyond my control. These reasons could be based on ignorant prejudice. The truth is that I don't need to know what the root cause of the disapproval is.
Am I a child? Why do I need to concern myself with approval from others?
Regardless of the why, I do concern myself. It has ruled my actions. Ruled them to the point where I have lost myself. It's as if I still live in an environment where approval is vital--which it isn't.
I don't think I went into this job with a problem this great. I am looking back at my brief experiences in other jobs and I don't think the approval thing was quite this bad. I think that working in an environment of uneducated, jealous and potentially vengeful people who do not respect and understand the importance of the jobs they have to do--all this has pulled symptoms of my PTSD to the surface.
BUT!!
As I'm writing this, I see that the analysis is flawed, not serving me well. I am still BLAMING others. THEY are jealous, THEY are prejudice and uneducated. Is this rational helpful? I don't know.
Am I a child? Why do I need to concern myself with approval from others?
Regardless of the why, I do concern myself. It has ruled my actions. Ruled them to the point where I have lost myself. It's as if I still live in an environment where approval is vital--which it isn't.
I don't think I went into this job with a problem this great. I am looking back at my brief experiences in other jobs and I don't think the approval thing was quite this bad. I think that working in an environment of uneducated, jealous and potentially vengeful people who do not respect and understand the importance of the jobs they have to do--all this has pulled symptoms of my PTSD to the surface.
BUT!!
As I'm writing this, I see that the analysis is flawed, not serving me well. I am still BLAMING others. THEY are jealous, THEY are prejudice and uneducated. Is this rational helpful? I don't know.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Stuff on approval, going to try to use this as affirmation...
Taken from Chapter 10: Tackling Your Dire Need for Approval A Guide To Rational Living, Albert Ellis & Robert Harper
www.smartrecovery.org/resources/library/Articles_and_Essays/Self-Acceptance/Tackling_Your_Dire_Need_for_Approval.pdf
More affirmations
I believe in my abilities.
I'm creative, intelligent and capable.
I am proud of being unique and I do not need to change anything about myself in order to gain the approval of others.Friday, April 15, 2011
Hang in there, me
I grew up with all this anger, resentment, jealousy and ignorance. It was paired with the influence of grandparents who were the opposite; they respected and encouraged higher learning, open mindedness, etc. I cannot handle the anger and resentment I get from the uneducated psycho bitches at work.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Affirmations straight out of the Bible
Well, not the Bible.
Why affirmations?
Affirmations are positive statements that describe a desired situation, and which are repeated many times, in order to impress the subconscious mind and trigger it into positive action. In order to ensure the effectiveness of the affirmations, they have to be repeated with attention, conviction, interest and desire.
http://www.successconsciousness.com/index_00000a.htm
This is page 208 from the anxiety workbook and these are the ones I have chosen to work on.
Why affirmations?
Affirmations are positive statements that describe a desired situation, and which are repeated many times, in order to impress the subconscious mind and trigger it into positive action. In order to ensure the effectiveness of the affirmations, they have to be repeated with attention, conviction, interest and desire.
http://www.successconsciousness.com/index_00000a.htm
This is page 208 from the anxiety workbook and these are the ones I have chosen to work on.
- I'm responsible and in control of my life.
- Every challenge that comes along is an opportunity to learn and grow.
- I love and accept myself the way I am.
- I respect and believe in myself apart from others' opinions.
- I appreciate my achievements, and I'm much more than all of them put together.
- I'm a unique and capable person just as I am.
- I'm learning to relax and let go. I'm learning to accept those things I can't control.
- I'm inherently worthy as a person. I accept myself just the way I am.
Anxiety Approval Anxiety Approval Anxiety Approval
And...repeat.
So, every little move I made as a child was scrutinized and judged negatively by my step-father. Reading in the living room or petting the dog or--heaven forbid, the extremely rare stating of an opinion. All these things and more. Things I did to exist, such as opening the refrigerator door, were taken as an insult to him, or as a statement of my superiority. Am I exaggerating? No. Did it screw me up? Yes, and I still get to open the gifts each day that are the result of this abuse.
I remember basking in the glory of the occasional common ground or approval received by my step-father. I made his mother pancakes on her summer visits. Made them every morning she was there. She bragged and laden me with endless praise about my famous Bisquick pancakes. I'm sure this pancake praise was strategic maneuvering to try to protect me from her monster of a son. This he sometimes acknowledged. To this day, I eat them, eat them alot.
Oh the relief, I think I would probably glow with relief with the short lived acceptance or approval.
He was jealous, always jealous, to the point of madness, of my very existence. He would make up preposterous accusations and then spend hours screaming at my mother about what I had done and what evil plot I had in mind when doing it. It was always something to do with how I supposedly acted and my attitude, I thought I was sooo...what...I don't know superior or smart I guess, whatever I supposedly thought was a direct affront to his very person.
Big Fat Results:
So, every little move I made as a child was scrutinized and judged negatively by my step-father. Reading in the living room or petting the dog or--heaven forbid, the extremely rare stating of an opinion. All these things and more. Things I did to exist, such as opening the refrigerator door, were taken as an insult to him, or as a statement of my superiority. Am I exaggerating? No. Did it screw me up? Yes, and I still get to open the gifts each day that are the result of this abuse.
I remember basking in the glory of the occasional common ground or approval received by my step-father. I made his mother pancakes on her summer visits. Made them every morning she was there. She bragged and laden me with endless praise about my famous Bisquick pancakes. I'm sure this pancake praise was strategic maneuvering to try to protect me from her monster of a son. This he sometimes acknowledged. To this day, I eat them, eat them alot.
Oh the relief, I think I would probably glow with relief with the short lived acceptance or approval.
He was jealous, always jealous, to the point of madness, of my very existence. He would make up preposterous accusations and then spend hours screaming at my mother about what I had done and what evil plot I had in mind when doing it. It was always something to do with how I supposedly acted and my attitude, I thought I was sooo...what...I don't know superior or smart I guess, whatever I supposedly thought was a direct affront to his very person.
Big Fat Results:
- I feel that EVERYONE is judging me and I am failing, or at least that is what I perceive. It is exhausting, especially, ESPECIALLY when there are actual real live people who are judging me and are jealous of me. I have placed the roles of my mother and step father onto various people I work with. People who are ignorant--like my step father, and jealous--like my step-father, and who desperately need a scapegoat, like my step-father, who bully innocent people who are just trying to do their job. The mother figure is being played by my boss, who is ignoring the bullying and even encouraging it to use for her own means.
- I am always looking for approval, desperately making those pancakes or anything else I can muster up.
- I can't shake it off, I can't rise above it, I can't.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Have you ever had an Arch Nemesis?
Ok, I Googled Arch Nemesis, was going to swipe some images of a myriad of coupled enemies, but could not find exactly what I was looking for, maybe cause I'm not really up on genres of movies or other media. Actually I'm not up on anything, I just surf Netflix and if it's not indy-romance-understated-witty-dark-critically acclaimed, I have not seen it.
Anyway, I actually have had arch nemesi since I started working full time two years ago. If you knew me, I don't think you would ever think I would have a nemesis, but I do. In fact I'm on my second one. It seems that people might be threatened by me. I might have a bit of what my asperger son has in the form of naive straight-forwardness. I also have a huge need--even drive--to please people, impress people, help people, be liked by people, be approved of by people. This probably gets on people's nerves, especially those people who feel trapped, are bored with their mundane lives, are selfish, narrow minded, petty and ignorant. These people apparently and unfortunately populate my workplace. It kinda sucks.
Anyway, I actually have had arch nemesi since I started working full time two years ago. If you knew me, I don't think you would ever think I would have a nemesis, but I do. In fact I'm on my second one. It seems that people might be threatened by me. I might have a bit of what my asperger son has in the form of naive straight-forwardness. I also have a huge need--even drive--to please people, impress people, help people, be liked by people, be approved of by people. This probably gets on people's nerves, especially those people who feel trapped, are bored with their mundane lives, are selfish, narrow minded, petty and ignorant. These people apparently and unfortunately populate my workplace. It kinda sucks.
Monday, April 11, 2011
The Anxiety Book and other Stuff
Page 242, "the feeling list"
As I was skimming the list my eyes jumped from the column of "positive feelings" to the list of "negative feelings." My eyes seemed more comfortable there. I skimmed down the list and stopped at "ashamed." Just stopped--stared at the word--still, as I write, keep glancing at the word...there it is, followed by other words, "awkward, bitter, and bored." All of the words seem like comfortable and descriptive friends. I also pause at "dependant." I somewhat linger on "disgusted" and "embarrassment" and "misunderstood."
Well, now it feels too deliberate the the accidental exercise is over.
Ok, skim the "positive feelings" list--out of the whole list I am most comfortable with "strong" and "loving."
Oh, page 242
So, the book, the whole book is awesome, not sure if it's legal to picture it here or not. By the way, why am I always reading it backwards? Am I really afraid to delve into it?I've had the thing by my bed for 2-3 years now.
Page 218 Affirmations (this is chapter 10)
See chapter 9 on how to use affirmations.
p. 215-Approval
To Do: read pages 215-218 and 220-224
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Joan Crawford, The Dentist, the Tub, and Spelling tests
When I was growing up, my mother worked for a dentist and my grandfather was a dentist. Apparently I needed alot of work done because it seemed like I grew up in a dentist chair. My grandfather was not an orthodontist but apparently it was ok for him to do oral surgery in his small office because he did it on me alot with my mom by his side.
Every night my mom turned into a tooth brush drill sergeant. She would hover over me and yell that I wasn't doing it correctly, then she would make me chew the red tablets that show you where you missed. She got these free from work and so had a huge supply.
I can still taste it.
She would watch me brush, turning red with anger because of my incompetence at the task. This same scenario repeated itself in other areas of my life, for example scrubbing the tub or studying for weekly spelling tests. Remember the famous coat hanger scene in "Mommie Dearest?" Ok, it wasn't that bad, she never hit me, but her temper...her face would turn beat red, I was so scared of her that I would miserably fail at whatever it whatever it was I was supposed to be doing. Come to think of it, I can't spell and hate scrubbing the tub.
I know for a fact I was/am dyslexic. I have no memory of anyone telling me "you are dyslexic." But I remember these black and gold cardboard letters in my pencil box at school. I think I was supposed to take them out and look at them so I would learn to write my letters in the right directions. My mother had to have known about it. Was she embarrassed by this disability? Was this why she was so irrationally desperate that I learn my spelling words? I remember her sitting in the chair in the family room with me standing in front of her with a half sheet of paper in her hand quizzing me and just being so angry she looked like she could pass out.
She had been a teacher before I was born and was even friends with teachers at my elementary school. Was this why it was intolerable to have a child who could not spell?
I transferred all this anger to my oldest daughter when she was very young. I remember the rage just coming out and I knew it was from my mom and step-dad. I vaguely remember thinking, "they did this to me, so I can do this to her." I never hit her, but the words...I remember writing her long letters of apology and being sick with remorse. She was embarrassed by the letters and didn't want to read them. She even said to me "what am I supposed to say?" I was very scared when she was a pre-teen and early teenager that the emotional abuse I inflicted on her when she was very young would result in her hating me when she hit the normal rebellious age. Those teen years were hard on both of us but I don't know really why. All I know is that I have forgiven myself and she thinks I was a great parent...I guess I did other stuff to make up for it...
Wow, that was a river of stuff that just flowed out...I'll have to re-read it tomorrow.
Good job, me.
Good night
Every night my mom turned into a tooth brush drill sergeant. She would hover over me and yell that I wasn't doing it correctly, then she would make me chew the red tablets that show you where you missed. She got these free from work and so had a huge supply.
I can still taste it.
She would watch me brush, turning red with anger because of my incompetence at the task. This same scenario repeated itself in other areas of my life, for example scrubbing the tub or studying for weekly spelling tests. Remember the famous coat hanger scene in "Mommie Dearest?" Ok, it wasn't that bad, she never hit me, but her temper...her face would turn beat red, I was so scared of her that I would miserably fail at whatever it whatever it was I was supposed to be doing. Come to think of it, I can't spell and hate scrubbing the tub.
I know for a fact I was/am dyslexic. I have no memory of anyone telling me "you are dyslexic." But I remember these black and gold cardboard letters in my pencil box at school. I think I was supposed to take them out and look at them so I would learn to write my letters in the right directions. My mother had to have known about it. Was she embarrassed by this disability? Was this why she was so irrationally desperate that I learn my spelling words? I remember her sitting in the chair in the family room with me standing in front of her with a half sheet of paper in her hand quizzing me and just being so angry she looked like she could pass out.
She had been a teacher before I was born and was even friends with teachers at my elementary school. Was this why it was intolerable to have a child who could not spell?
I transferred all this anger to my oldest daughter when she was very young. I remember the rage just coming out and I knew it was from my mom and step-dad. I vaguely remember thinking, "they did this to me, so I can do this to her." I never hit her, but the words...I remember writing her long letters of apology and being sick with remorse. She was embarrassed by the letters and didn't want to read them. She even said to me "what am I supposed to say?" I was very scared when she was a pre-teen and early teenager that the emotional abuse I inflicted on her when she was very young would result in her hating me when she hit the normal rebellious age. Those teen years were hard on both of us but I don't know really why. All I know is that I have forgiven myself and she thinks I was a great parent...I guess I did other stuff to make up for it...
Wow, that was a river of stuff that just flowed out...I'll have to re-read it tomorrow.
Good job, me.
Good night
Fluoxetine and me (continued)
I'm taking it again, or still just to keep this up to date. Don't know what is working, but things seem to be better. I am not exercising, that is the only thing I would like to change physically. But I'm working in the yard alot right now, and my job can be very physical, so I'm not that worried about it.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Addition to To Do List
- Do stuff for me. Spring is here and I'm working on a rock garden thing in the front yard. I'm also planting seeds indoors to plant outside later. I did this years ago at our previous house and I absolutely LOVED doing it. Must be in my blood, my mom and Dear Grandmother loved to garden. My mom's dear ass hole of a second husband took that away from her though, hopefully she's doing it now. I wish her well.
I need a new hobby, maybe this planting thing will be it. I'm always drawn to plants...
- Write in this blog. It helps. It helps with being lonely for my own kind of smart people to listen to. I miss my daughter. I miss my mom. I miss my Dear Grandmother. My Mother-In-Law is getting older, I need to spend more time with her.
To do list evaluation
- Taking multivitamins: B complex and Fish oil
- Listening to music before bed: well, I listen to it more anyway
- Focus on the here and now: I just added this one, I have been trying to do this for YEARS. Even read about Buddhism and meditation. But for some reason, now, I am able to consciously bring myself to the moment more often and easily. How can you bring yourself to the moment if you are strung out and anxiety ridden?
- reduction of simple sugars and carbs: this morning is Saturday so I didn't eat breakfast at my usual extremely early time, and by 8:30 I thought I was having an anxiety attack when actually I was starving. I'm keeping a food diary and will someday figure out my food issue.
- No caffeine: have done really well with this, drinking green tea. But last night I had a cappuccino and regretted it. Just felt weird.
Who's Club am I in?
I read that gossiping is a way to to deal with feeling anxious in a social setting. Hmm...that's a thinker.
I can totally see that with me, it's a way to try to connect with whomever you talking to. Us vs. them sort of thing, right?
I haven't posted in a very long time...I think I have progressed. I'm always progressing, I guess, but I think I have gained something significant, can't put my finger on it.
I had a mental breakdown at work...really it was a crying jag triggered by an adult bully just being a bully. I think that somehow, since then, I have felt better somehow. I mean, bring it on life, I can handle it. So why did I break down and cry like a baby? Well, I try to be the pleaser, be pleasing to everyone, help everyone, play fair, team work team work, etc. Well, guess what, others don't play fair and when I needed someone to do me a small favor that they were completely capable of doing, they refused, just because they could. Anyway, that may have been a milestone. I need to do things based on my values and nothing else, not because I want damn kudos from others.
I went to a seminar this morning for work on how to get along with others...we took a personality test and one of the attributes in my "type" is that I need praise. Boy, do I.
I can totally see that with me, it's a way to try to connect with whomever you talking to. Us vs. them sort of thing, right?
I haven't posted in a very long time...I think I have progressed. I'm always progressing, I guess, but I think I have gained something significant, can't put my finger on it.
I had a mental breakdown at work...really it was a crying jag triggered by an adult bully just being a bully. I think that somehow, since then, I have felt better somehow. I mean, bring it on life, I can handle it. So why did I break down and cry like a baby? Well, I try to be the pleaser, be pleasing to everyone, help everyone, play fair, team work team work, etc. Well, guess what, others don't play fair and when I needed someone to do me a small favor that they were completely capable of doing, they refused, just because they could. Anyway, that may have been a milestone. I need to do things based on my values and nothing else, not because I want damn kudos from others.
I went to a seminar this morning for work on how to get along with others...we took a personality test and one of the attributes in my "type" is that I need praise. Boy, do I.
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