In the physical practice of yoga we draw our intentions inward, we observe and notice what's happening with our breath, our bodies, our feelings and our minds. Oh did you think it was just a hip way to stretch? Halfway through a class tonight I realized I was saying repeatedly "I'm so angry." Upon further thought I also realized I'd been saying it for days. As class progressed I noticed "I'm so angry." had turned to "I'm so sad." What was I angry about? What was I sad about? I'd had recent disappointments, stressful moments, really basic life but this felt far deeper.
There was a Celebrity Sober House {you can stop judging me right now} episode with Dr. Drew years ago which had a scene that has haunted me for years. Dr. Drew asked this man what he wanted. The man began to wail and sob saying he wanted a father that loved him, cared for him and was there for him. Dr. Drew bluntly but with compassion said, "You don't get that." You don't get that. I've rolled back to that statement again and again when all I didn't "get" is brought back to the surface for me. I'm grateful. I do know I'm privileged on many levels and have a lot. But oh the ache when you don't get something that you perceived everyone else as receiving.
I'm finding I can no longer stuff down the past trauma. I did it all; self-help books, writing, groups, therapy, drugs, praying, begging, pleading, numbing. But now it's coming out and in ways I hate most. I don't like others to know I'm in pain. I don't like for myself to know it. I'd like to think I can lock jaw through most of life but apparently triggered memories don't give a fuck as to what I want. I had a moment recently where when a body sensation was accidentally set off, I burst into tears. I didn't want the person I was with to see me cry, I didn't want to talk about why I was crying, so I lied through the sobs saying I was perfectly fine.
I don't like talking about my past. I don't like when someone knows too much about me. I don't like to be truly seen. Vulnerability feels like torture. Sharing has been used against me. Telling too much gives people ammunition, or worse yet they can't take what they've been told and walk away. Through truly the worst response of all is no response. No response means you don't matter, you don't exist, it doesn't matter what happened...you don't get that.
So I'm seeing that all my efforts to go back to smiling, telling inappropriate jokes and not feeling has fallen apart. Because I'm so angry. I'm so sad.
Thursday, August 16, 2018
Wednesday, August 8, 2018
I'm not a perfectionist
Many years ago I was having a mundane session with a therapist, told a little story that happened that week and she said, "Well that makes sense with your perfectionism issues." I contorted my face, confused and in shock, and said, "I'm not a perfectionist!" Silence. Our mutual understanding was gone as we stared each other down tying to understand what the other had just said. She finally replied, "You're not a perfectionist?" By now I was welling up with tears and distraught. "NO!" More silence. She bowed her head trying to regroup and get the session back on track, "OK, explain to me how you're not a perfectionist." "I've never done anything perfectly!!" I wailed, "NEVER!!" Smiling sweetly, "The fact that you think anyone could do anything perfectly is what makes you a perfectionist." I couldn't control the sobs and this lack of control only upset me more. "Do you believe there are people that do things perfectly?" "Yes." "Well that's not true." "Yes, it is." My hysteria turned to rage as I had to prove to her that she was wrong. "There is a pile of papers on my kitchen counter and a perfectionist would have taken care of them. I always have empty water bottles on my floor of my car and a perfectionist would clean them up immediately. I have bad hand writing and a perfectionist has beautiful handwriting.I have a chipped nail right now!" Nothing she said could convince me I wasn't right. In exasperation she said, "I would normally never do this but I also know there is no other way through to you except to be extra blunt. I've been a therapist over 30 years and deal with perfectionism issues daily, and of everyone I've ever experienced you are the most extreme." I wasn't phased or convinced but I did leave ther perplexed as to why she'd say that to me.
I've told friends my therapist story and some have said, "Oh I've never seen you as a perfectionist!" I hear this as a cut down. Those words, though probably an attempt to comfort me, tell me I'm not measuring up and it's showing. I don't believe I'm a perfectionist yet I clearly see it as the ultimate goal to reach. Not good enough and not only does everyone see it, they are laughing about it.
It's been at least 20 years since that appointment and I still don't accept my perfectionism. Yet if I'm still (When am I ever still?) and honest, I see some truth shining through the cracks I try to conceal. I'm typing yet my gaze keeps going to the shelf where I'm seeing I didn't dust a corner. The pillows on my couch aren't the way I like them. My feet suddenly feel dry so I put on lotion as I'm not longer able to concentrate until they feel OK again. Another chipped fingernail. Imperfections everywhere.
I've told friends my therapist story and some have said, "Oh I've never seen you as a perfectionist!" I hear this as a cut down. Those words, though probably an attempt to comfort me, tell me I'm not measuring up and it's showing. I don't believe I'm a perfectionist yet I clearly see it as the ultimate goal to reach. Not good enough and not only does everyone see it, they are laughing about it.
It's been at least 20 years since that appointment and I still don't accept my perfectionism. Yet if I'm still (When am I ever still?) and honest, I see some truth shining through the cracks I try to conceal. I'm typing yet my gaze keeps going to the shelf where I'm seeing I didn't dust a corner. The pillows on my couch aren't the way I like them. My feet suddenly feel dry so I put on lotion as I'm not longer able to concentrate until they feel OK again. Another chipped fingernail. Imperfections everywhere.