Second Thoughts

I think I made a big mistake getting those dogs.  I've lost all the freedom I gained when the kids grew up and left.  No more can I go workout in the mornings; I have to walk and feed the dogs.  We can't just take off for the weekend.  We have to get someone to watch them.  No sleeping in.

The windows and doors in the back are smeared with muddy paw prints.  They're torn up sprinkler heads and door mats.  They're tearing up the landscaping I worked so hard on  - tearing up the weed fabric, tearing out the drop lines, they chew on fucking everything.

Oh, and I think it's safe to say I'm also really sick of the smell of dog shit.

No title, working or otherwise.

Yesterday I went off, venting about how tired I was.  I'd spent 5 or 6 hours cleaning, particularly the kitchen, and I was exhausted.  I'd finally reached the point where I realized I can't do it all--I can't train for an Ironman, I can't go to graduate school, and I can't work full time.  It just won't happen.  And I was pissed because the kitchen was filthy and I felt like I was the only one who cared about how clean the house was.

I probably shouldn't have done that because then I got an earful of why everything is my fault.  And you know what?  It is. I was the one who quit a steady paying job.  I'm the one who can't seem to get a decent' paying one since.  I'm the one who parked my car in an alley so that it was broken into.  I'm the one who left the security door open so that we were burglarized.  It is all, indeed, all my fault.

This is the first time I've felt so much like a complete and utter failure.  How nice to know he thinks so, too.

The worst thing is that I can't even kill myself.  I don't have any life insurance, so it would just be an added expense.  I just have to go on living every single day knowing what I've done to devastate us financially.  It's all I think about.  There's no relief.    

...

Wednesdays with Nan

er than what we've talked about, you know, being hindered and late and trapped, unable to get home, what kinds of things make you uncomfortably nervous? 

Uh, how much time have you got?

• When my partner is cranky.
• When my partner talks about how bad our financial situation is - I start blaming myself for being out of work last year.
• When I think about not making a cutoff, or deadline.
• When something goes wrong at work, even if its not my fault.
• When someone looks at me funny.
• When I take a test.
• When my boss wants to talk to me. 
• Sometimes I just get a funny feeling that I've done something wrong, but I don't know what, and something terrible will happen, and it will be all my fault.

How do you deal with the nervousness?

Well, you now, I try talking to myself and telling myself, "this isn't your fault, you haven't done anything wrong, you don't need to fix this, et cetera," but it doesn't help much.  Even himself, he tells me to stop worrying about trying to make him feel better, he gets moody, it's not my fault.  Inside me, I know this, but there's that awful feeling, still. 

I keeping hearing a repeating theme: you worry that things are your fault.  When you're feeling nervous, what goes through your mind?

It's my fault.  It's all my fault.  I've done something wrong.  Now I have to fix it.  Or, if there's nothing concrete, but I feel like something bad is about to happen, then I have to stop it from happening.

Fix it?

Well, you know, growing up I was always the smart kid, and I had it pretty easy, so but I had trouble focusing a lot, paying attention, sitting still.  I was a hyper little shit.  My dad usually would say, or not say, but sort of indicate, that there's no reason why I shouldn't have straight As, or have a clean room, or dress appropriately, or any of the stuff that he hated.  So I always had this feeling, you know, like there must be something wrong with me.  He used to say, "You dont' apply yourself.  You're not trying hard enough." 

So you feel like you have work harder to make it all right.

Yes.  And you know, I mean, like my first husband, he would come home and I would try to read his face. Will this be a good day?  A bad day?  because I mean, if it was a bad day, I was better off just going to bed.  If it was a bad day, I was going to get hit, or shoved, or thrown, at some time during that night, even if I did nothing at all.  

So you were always kind of watching out for what might go wrong .

Yes.  And you know, I know it's rediculous.  I mean, I have some insight - in my own practice, I see this kind of behavior in people who have grown up with parents who rage, or are alcoholics...they grow up with this constant desperation to try to ease, soothe, fix.  So I know it's wrong . But no matter what my self-talk is, the feeling won't go away, the worry, the dread.

So in your day, what percentage of time would you say you spend worrying about these types of things.

In my waking day?  Well, let's see.  I'm awake about 16 hours, I guess, so maybe, between 20 and 25%.

I'm going to give you something - it's a picture of the response of the body during a panic phase . I want you to study it, and we'll talk about it next week.  I'm also giving you some questions to ask yourself when you find yourself worrying.  Fill these in, and we'll talk about those next week. 

...

I also want you to study these questions to ask yourself when you worry. 

What "lack of insight" looks like.

Mr. Thing was in my office because he's really pissed at his daughter.  Mainly because, well, she isn't he person he thinks she should be.  She mouths off to him.  Mutters expletives under her breath.

He talked at great length about all the stuff he'd done for his kids, how awesome he was.  This went on until I was ready to mutter expletives.  Finally, I asked him:
I'd like to back up just a second and ask you about something you just said, a few minutes ago.  You were talking about your sons, and you said, 'I live my life through my children'.

Yeah?


Well, I'm wondering what that means to you.  


I don't know what you mean.  I mean, I want to do everything for them that nobody did for me.  So I do everything for them.  My daughter, she's a great public speaker, so I pulled some strings to get her a job working in a TV studio.  I always wanted to wrestle, so I pulled some strings to get my kids into wrestling.  But do you think they appreciate it?  No.

I'm wondering if you know that you can't actually "live your life" through them...that they are distinct and separate.


I don't get what you mean.  What's wrong with giving them direction?  I pull strings, I make sure they get the opportunities they need.   Nobody did that for me, nobody.


Oh, nothing, but I'm thinking, well, you're a self-made man, after all, and I recognize that you pulled yourself with a great deal of difficulty to become the person you are today. 


I am.  Nobody ever helped me, nobody.  It was tough.  I mean, I came from shit.  Just absolute shit, the barrio.  I made my own way in the world.  I had nothing.  Now I have a $350,000 house, and my own business.


 It seems like you're probably a better man for having figured out and solved all your problems.  Wouldn't you say?


yes.  So, what's your point?

Would you say that you learned a lot solving your problems on your own?  That you're a wiser man for it?


Yes.  But I don't want my kids to suffer like I did.  I do things for them so that they can be successful without having to work as hard as I did.

I'm wondering if you think it might be useful to step back and let your kids make mistakes, and solve problems, so that they can have that feeling that you have, of having solved their own problems. 


I don't get what you're telling me.  Are you saying that a father shouldn't try to help his children?  Are you saying I should just let them fail?

It's just that...when you tell your kids what to do, and how to do it, and as you say, 'pull strings' so that they get what they want, you're sending the message that they can't do it on their own.  


I don't see it that way.

How do you see it?


I see it as a dad who loves his kids.

And the feeling you have now, the anger because they aren't becoming the people you think they should become, and they don't appreciate the strings you've pulled, how do you see that?


I don't get what you mean.


...

Wednesdays with Nan.

More time with my therapist this weekend.  She asked lots of questions.  Was I uncomfortable in large spaces...small spaces...what was it that made me uncomfortable?  I finally figured out some things.
it's not the space that bugs me.  It's the ability leave, to get out, to get to safety that bothers me.  If it's not there, I'm not feeling safe.  I don't like being where I can't get away...get home...get somewhere.

So, traffic.  I avoid traffic.  I don't mind the freeway, because where i live, it flows pretty well.

So, the grocery...I use the little carts, so that I can maneuver.  I think what bothers me about it is that, there's all these things that could happen, so I need to be able to get out of there quickly.

What about traveling?  you have to be gone from home for a long time...how do you manage that?


I'm always with Himself.  He takes care of everything.  No matter what I need, he'll get it for me.  He's safety.    I'll go anywhere with him.

Is there anything you absolutely won't do because it's so uncomfortable, this feeling of not getting away/

Uh, well, hell yeah.  I won't cycle.  Not with friends.  I've been stranded, I've had accidents, you're clipped into this stupid contraption and if you decide to go off in a different directions, you can't always do it  those tiny wheels restrict your travel surface.  So does the traffic.  Not with running.  You can pretty much run anywhere.

But didn't you tell me you were having panic attacks before big runs?  What are you thinking then?

Sometimes.  I like to be close to home, or to the car.

What do you imagine will happen?  What do you do to prevent it from happening?

So, to be safe on long runs, I'll take a whole bunch of shit with me.  TP, inhaler, whatever I might need.  Money.  Bottles.  Still.  it's not easy.  

Have you ever tried to travel alone?

Yes, but I had a lot with me, way more than I needed, just in case.  

How do you manage being in places where time isn't a constant...like at the hair dressers?

I create a huge cushion around the time, so that there is no chance of me being late anywhere else.  I hate being late.  I hate it when people make me late.  I guess, what it all boils down to, is that I hate being hindered in any way.  

Hey.  Maybe that's why I get so bitchy when Himself makes me late for something.  it's being confined, it's being, well, held back.

What do you imagine will happen as a result of being late?

I imagine....I imagine, well, that I'll be...um, well, not on time.  It's not the late.  It's the feeling that I'm being prevented from being where I need to be.  When I'm late, I'm rushed.  I hate that.  

Hmm.  So here we have: I don't like being hindered.  That explains a lot, I guess.  

Last weekend.

I did an ultra marathon this weekend.  I did it without Xanax.  I started having a panic attack, so I slapped myself in the face instead.

I'll have to process that one with my therapist.  All I know is, it worked.