I'm Not Kidding

If there is one thing I could wish for in my life right now, it's that my family and friends would really understand my illnesses and what they do to me.

Here's a list of my ailments, in case you're unfamiliar:
- Fibromyalgia
- Chronic Fatigue Syndrome
- Bipolar Disorder
- Generalized and Social Anxiety
- Migraines
- PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder)
- PCOS (Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome)
- Dyslexia (not formally diagnosed, but I have every symptom and a high-school teacher suggested that I probably have it)


That list is what rules my life. I wish it wasn't true. But reality is reality. These diseases and disorders keep me from living the life I wanted. I don't work. I don't drive much. I don't have a social life anymore. I don't do much of anything except sit at home, waiting for my meds to start working and wishing I was anywhere else. And wishing I wasn't so alone.

I feel incredibly isolated. This is what happens to sick people, so I hear. We're never well enough to join in on activities or trips or even social house calls. I know that when I hear an unexpected knock at the door on most days, I run to hide in my room. Seriously. When I am not feeling well, even the slightest interruption to my "quiet time" will stress me out, therefore causing my body to tense up, triggering my PTSD and my fibromyalgia pain. This causes a "flare", which means that every nerve in my entire body is singing with pain at once. It usually lands me in bed for a few days.

Sometimes the triggers bring about an anxiety or panic attack (they're not the same thing). An anxiety attack is a slow, dreadful thing. It's when something creeps into your mind slowly and starts to make you worry about it until gradually you are a nervous, aching wreck. A panic attack is swift and sharp. It's what happens if you walk into your apartment at the end of the day only to find a deranged- looking clown, holding an axe, standing in your living room. The heartbeat speeds up, the breath catches, the muscles lock up, and the adrenaline starts pumping, and all you can think of is how to FIGHT or FLEE. That's called fear. That's what happens to a socially anxious person when they're around strangers or crowds or intense interactions with anyone- even close friends or family.

It's hard to express the number of triggers that can cause me to have a flare or cause me to have an anxiety or panic attack. Almost anything can do it. That unexpected knock at my door. A trip to the grocery store. A stressful call from my mother. A missed call from an unknown number. A visit from my brother. My roommate in a bad mood. A meal full of gluten. A crying child in a public place. Seeing a sad commercial. Watching a romantic comedy. Walking laps around the mall. Feeling excluded from my bf's and his gf's life. Seeing a hurt animal or person. Hearing an angry, loud voice. Hearing a leaf blower, thunder, a vacuum, or a blender. Hearing a hammer hitting a nail. Trying on clothes at a shop. Seeing my body in a mirror. You get the point.

Basically, my body is overly sensitive to life itself. We can't avoid other people. We can't hole up in a cave somewhere and expect to be healthy and feel good about existing. We are hard-wired to crave human contact, no matter how introverted we may be. We all need someone. And what I need is someone who will accept, understand, and work with my individual issues and not look down on me for it, or resent me in time.

Romans 12

3 For by the grace given me I say to every one of you: Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment, in accordance with the faith God has distributed to each of you. 4 For just as each of us has one body with many members, and these members do not all have the same function, 5 so in Christ we, though many, form one body, and each member belongs to all the others. 6 We have different gifts, according to the grace given to each of us. If your gift is prophesying, then prophesy in accordance with your[a] faith; 7 if it is serving, then serve; if it is teaching, then teach; 8 if it is to encourage, then give encouragement; if it is giving, then give generously; if it is to lead,[b] do it diligently; if it is to show mercy, do it cheerfully.

9 Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. 10 Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves. 11 Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. 12 Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. 13 Share with the Lord’s people who are in need. Practice hospitality.

14 Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse. 15 Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. 16 Live in harmony with one another. Do not be proud, but be willing to associate with people of low position.[c] Do not be conceited.

17 Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everyone. 18 If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone. 19 Do not take revenge, my dear friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: “It is mine to avenge; I will repay,”[d] says the Lord.20 On the contrary:

“If your enemy is hungry, feed him;
    if he is thirsty, give him something to drink.
In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head.”[e]

21 Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.

This is the focus for my Bible study this morning. I pray to live by these words and be the best I can be. Too often I let my fears and even pride get in the way of my being a good person, and today I promise to always make the effort to cast fear and pride aside.

The Comparison Game

Some people seem to have everything so good.

You probably know someone like that. They always look great, they have a great job that pays well, they have a perfect marriage, perfect kids, cute house, new car, they never seem to get sick, and they never seem to fail at any endeavor they try their hands at. When you see them, they are always happy, and never seem to get stressed out. And why should they? Their lives seem perfectly stress-free.

I play the "Comparison Game" as my boyfriend calls it. I compare myself to everyone I meet, and the other person ALWAYS wins. I think everyone has a better life than me. And not only that, but I think everyone except for me deserves a better life. In therapy, my shrink and I are trying to figure out where this comes from. I have a very low opinion of myself. So low that it actually shocks me when someone pays me a compliment about my looks or personality or intelligence. Because to me, I possess no redeeming qualities. Well, I am compassionate about the human plight and animal welfare. I guess that's redeeming?

My roommate and I had a long discussion about where this low opinion of self comes from, and she seems to think it's because I was raised by a narcissistic parent. My mother is textbook narcissist. Recently I found an article that talks about what the adult child of a narcissist deals with. Every single thing on the list was SPOT ON. So maybe my roommate is right, and there is a lot that I owe to my mom when it comes to hating myself.

I don't like playing the Comparison Game. It makes my heart hurt and makes my mind loud. Hopefully with therapy, and with time, I can learn to overcome my self-loathing and perhaps learn to feel worthy of a good life. Learn to let people love me if they want to, and learn that I am not undeserving of that. I don't want to be perfect. I just want to feel good and be content with myself and my life.

"Needy"

I've been self-reflecting.

I've noticed that I need attention. A lot of it. Not from just anyone, though. I could care less if strangers pay attention to me, or if I am famous. Seems I only crave attention from those who claim to love me or care about me. I never thought I asked too much of my friends and loved ones... but maybe I do?

It'd be nice to receive daily texts, just updating me on their day, or how they are. Or asking me about my day. It'd be lovely to feel like someone can't wait to talk to me again. It would make my day to have someone call me and really connect for an hour or two. I'd love to know that if I really need to talk to someone, at least one person is ready to drop everything and listen and be present.

 I feel alone almost all of the time. I have no local friends, only long-distance ones through the internet. They're not always online, they have their own lives. My roommate is pretty much my closest friend, but she's working a lot, and when she comes home, she's de-stressing and doesn't want to interact with me. It's understandable! I am not placing blame on any of these people. They have lives. They have their own issues. It's not all about me.

And because I understand this, I have decided to stop reaching out. I will stay quiet, speak when spoken to, and let others come to me if they choose to. I will ask nothing from them and expect nothing. I do not want to be a burden and I do not want to be seen or thought of as some needy, clingy little child who can't leave people alone.

My therapist said that when babies are born, their eye sight only extends to 10 inches. They can't see anything beyond that. It's because 10 inches is the distance between a baby's face and the face of it's mother, when she is nursing. "We are hard wired to recognize faces and form connections with one another. When you need someone, you aren't being "needy". You're being human," he said.

I think that's beautiful. I think humans are meant to be together, to want attention, to be loved and doted on. I would happily dote on those I love. But in today's world... it just isn't what people want. They want convenience. Doting is not convenient. Making time for someone isn't convenient. Texting someone you care about to just ask how they are isn't convenient. And if someone texts YOU, because they're in need of a friend and some attention, it's seen as "needy" and looked at as a negative.

I can't really take any more rejection. I can't be in a constant state of being deprived because of needing attention and love that I never receive from those who say they care about me. Maybe I am just being selfish. Am I greedy for not being satisfied by the crumbs I am thrown? Am I to settle for the meager rations I get, when I know that the people I love could give so much more? Perhaps. I honestly don't know anymore. I can't tell what is "normal". I don't know what society deems "appropriate amounts of attention".

All I know is that I am not getting what I need. And so I will stop needing anything at all.

Holy Mother

I wish Mary was more recognized in Protestant faiths.

I grew up Southern Baptist (how this differs from ordinary Baptists, I don't know). We never talked about Mary except at Christmas time, when we were told the story of the virgin birth. In fact, Mary was sort of invisible in that church. Even when we acknowledged her, it  was in passing, a mere mention of the flesh and blood girl who gave birth to a savior. It always struck me as a little odd- to leave such an important woman out of the Christ story?

I have since drifted (no, run full speed) from the Baptist faith, and now I am definitely somewhere between Protestant and Catholic. What does that make me? Probably an Episcopalian. I have been attending an Episcopal church and I love it. I'll explain why in another post. But let's get back to Mary.

Growing up Baptist, I was taught never to think of Mary as anyone important. I was told about those "crazy Catholics" who prayed and worshiped to statues of Mary and saints innumerable; who used priests in confessionals to absolve them of sin, rather than going straight to the source, as we Protestants are taught. It was all pretty scary to me at the time. I was imagining some sort of cult-like organization who fell to their knees before gaunt carvings of Christ on the cross and woeful figures of Mary.

It wasn't until after leaving the Baptist faith that I started really thinking about Mary and her role in the story of Christianity. I wondered about her- who she was, what made her so special, what made her decide to accept the role of Blessed Mother of the Christ child? How did she live, raising a savior? How did she mother, why was she chosen by God? So I researched. And I am still researching today. I read anything I can get my hands on about Mary and her story.

She is special to me. Special because she was not only the vessel that brought forth Christ into this world, but also she was the very first disciple of Jesus. His very first believer. The mother of our fellowship. The mother of our church. She was with Jesus through almost every step of his journey. How can such a woman be denied acknowledgment when her role was so magnificent? In what way does including Mary in the Christian practice jeopardize or demean Jesus or God? I don't think it does! I think Mary belongs in the story of Christ. I think God chose her for a reason, and that Jesus himself wanted us to call her "Mother".

Thoughts On The Duggar Scandal

Okay, so in an attempt to avoid negativity and heartbreak in my life, I usually avoid all news. I am an empath and it takes but even a mention of some tragedy somewhere, and I am a crying mess. I don't watch any news broadcasts, I turn off the radio at news hour, and I never even glance at newspapers. Some people think I'm essentially burying my head in the proverbial sand. My response to that is usually:

Anyway, some news is pretty much unavoidable, since it's splattered all over social media like the vomit of a drunken coed. Such news I am here to talk about today is the Josh Duggar molestation incident. 

I haven't kept up with every detail of the case, since I really don't want to know. But one thing I heard through the grapevine about it is that the molestation was committed against the girls while they were asleep.  This struck me right in the feels, because in my own past, I was molested in my sleep by a youth minister of a Baptist church. I was not a child when it happened, which is I guess the one good thing I can say about the man who did it. But it did make me wonder how safe any kids were around him after that.

The scary/odd thing is that this is not the first or second or even third time that I have learned about a so-called man of the cloth molesting someone while they sleep. What is it about? Does the shame of what they are about to do make it impossible for them to assault someone while they're awake? Is there some kind of religious kink I don't know about associated with people who are sleeping? Psychologically speaking, this is very interesting to me.

Spiritually though? It makes me pretty sick.

Jealousy: A Cancer In The Bones

This verse gets me through some of my hardest days. Days when I look around me at all of the people who seem to have everything, seem to have their lives completely together. They have what I lack. They shine with qualities I don't have. They are talented, smart, beautiful, successful, happy. Everything I feel like I am NOT.

Add to all of these insecurities and moments of envy, the fact that I am currently in a polygamous relationship with a man and another woman, and you can see why I struggle with jealousy perhaps more than most. See, I am not jealous in a vengeful, hateful way. I don't do vindictive things in an attempt to get my way, or get my boyfriend all to myself. I actually love the other woman in our relationship, and I admire many qualities about her. I am happy that she wants both of us in her lives, and that my boyfriend sees the value and star-qualities in both of us women.

 A cute scene from the poly-friendly film 'Vicky Cristina Barcelona', depicting a poly relationship between a man and two women

My jealousy comes in the form of self-deprecation and self-pity, even. I will see the wonderful qualities in this other woman, and curse myself for not having those same qualities. I will look at all she has accomplished and feel resentful toward myself that I have not accomplished even half of what she has. I will look at her with our boyfriend, and think, "They are wonderful together and I do not deserve to be in the picture." And I will have feelings of wanting to put distance between me and them- sometimes I will even stop contact with them and descend into a spiral of self-hate and depression.

It's not their faults, it's mine. They do and have done all they can to make me understand that I am wanted and loved and welcome in the relationship. "We are all in this together, we are a family," they say. It's just me who has the problem of overcoming the jealousy I feel. A jealousy that was born due to the teachings of a conservative society.

You don't see positive depictions of poly families, unless there are disastrous or scandalous outcomes. You don't see love stories with two main female love interests. You don't see positive poly anywhere. Those of us who love in this manner are seen as sinful, lustful, un-Christian, and cult-like. The stereotype of underage girls in long prairie style dresses and braided hair- that's what you see in the media. Not loving, nurturing, healthy relationships between of-age partners who CHOSE that life.

 The typical negative poly image 

This is why I struggle with jealousy. A world that is constantly telling me that a man can only love ONE woman, a society that shuns my way of loving, and a media that is constantly portraying the "evils" of a multi-partner relationship. Without these negative influences, I believe that jealousy would plague my heart much less often than it does now.

In time, I hope to let go of my feelings of inadequacy and insecurity that comes from comparing myself to everyone else, so that I may focus on more important things. In the meantime, though, the bible verse I posted above is one of the only things that gets me through the days when I feel the little snag of jealousy. That, and of course, the love from my dear partners.

Do Not Worry

Rosary

I just prayed the Rosary for the first time. Took me a while to get through it, but I did, and it wasn't as hard as I anticipated. I had this nifty little guide:

And of course, my antique French rosary that has been handed down through my family:

Most of the shorter prayers I have down pat, but the longer ones (Hail Holy Queen and O God) are going to take me a lot longer to learn.
But I'll do it. Because it means something to me.

Fill In The Blanks

I stumbled upon this while checking Facebook:

I thought it was a great idea. Not just for those we keep company with, but also for ourselves. How many of us can put our own names in that verse and feel like it's an accurate reflection of how we are?

I know that I need work in the patience department, and probably the irritable/resentful part too. I think I'll reflect on this concept daily, and work to ensure that my name could fit in there, no question.

TBR Pile

Alright, if you know me and have known me for some length of time, you know that I have been an avid reader since I was 3 years old. Yep, I learned to read at age three. See, it's in my blood. Mostly from my father's side of the family. My grandmother reads. My aunts read. My dad reads. So I guess it was to be expected that I would share this addiction.

I remember reading so much and so carelessly, that I would neglect my homework and study time. I passed the tests anyway. That's what baffled my teachers. No studying, no homework, no class participation- but always grade 'A' test scores. So they wanted to see if I needed to be enrolled in the advanced classes in school. They tested me in the 5th grade, and all of my scores were college-level except for my scores in Satan's darling, MATH. Yeah, in that arena I scored about the same as a first grader. Bah. So no advanced classes for me. Instead, they kept me in regular classes and stuck me into Remedial Math classes. That's a story for another day.

Back to reading. This is my current TBR pile:

Mostly I love to read the classics (like Dickens up there on the top) and historical fiction or non-fiction (like Little House). There are certain authors whose every work I will devour simply because I have loved one of their books in the past (like Mr. John Updike up there). Other times, I read what speaks to me. And of course, I study the Bible almost daily.

I've been sort of slacking on my reading lately, what with the recent emotional and financial stresses I have been struggling with (and ok, an unhealthy addiction to Netflix), but today I plan to kick back on the couch with some classical soundtrack, and read for at least an hour.

Au revoir!

I Am The Onion

A couple of days ago, a friend linked me to this, saying that he thinks it describes me fairly accurately. I'll have to agree wholeheartedly. I'd like to use this particular post to try and explain the reasons why I am like this.


"The fearful-avoidant (sometimes called anxious-avoidant) share an underlying distrust of caregiving others with the dismissive-avoidant, but have not developed the armor of high self-esteem to allow them to do without attachment; they realize they need and want intimacy, but when they are in a relationship that starts to get close, their fear and mistrust surfaces and they distance."


Yes. I do need intimacy. It's rare that I develop it with someone, but when I do, I feel safe, secure, and extremely contented. My stress levels go down and my bipolar seems to even out. It's something I want but at the same time, don't believe I will ever find. Perhaps because of the way I was parented.

 Mistrusting those who show me "care" is something I do often. My mother was the key parent in my life. My dad was around, but only on sporadic weekends thanks to the decisions of the court, and so I spent most of my childhood with my mother. She is a narcissist. I'm not talking about figuratively. I mean clinically, she has Narcissistic Personality Disorder. If you take the time to read the article that link leads to, you'll figure out that caring for another person is not high on the priority list of a Narcissist. So it was with my mom. I basically raised myself. So is it any wonder that I can't trust people who come into my life announcing that they want to care about me?


"...at a distance the sufferer wants to get closer, but when he does, the fear kicks in and he wants to withdraw. This leads to a pattern of circling or cycling, and the fearful-avoidant can often be found in a series of short relationships ended by their finding fault with a partner who seems more threatening as they get closer to understanding them."


Story of my life. As soon as someone gets close to seeing "the real me", I'm desperately looking for a way out. It boils down to fear of being rejected or abandoned for not being seen as good enough or worth love.


"The early caregiving of a fearful-avoidant type often has some features of both neglect and abuse (which may be psychological—a demeaning or absent caregiver, rejection and teasing from early playmates.) A fearful-avoidant type both desires close relationships and finds it difficult to be truly open to intimacy with others out of fear of rejection and loss, since that is what he or she have received from their caregivers."


Again, this seems to suggest that growing up with a narcissistic parent had a lot to do with my fear of intimacy and rejection. Life with Mom was hard. That's a blog post for another day.


" ...the fearful-avoidant subconsciously believe there is something unacceptable about them that makes anyone who knows them deeply more likely to reject or betray them, so they will find reasons to relieve this fear by distancing anyone who gets too close."

Exactly, exactly, exactly. I not only believe that there is something unacceptable about me- I am CONVINCED that there is. I could make a mile-long list of what is unacceptable about me. I live and breathe the guilt and shame that comes with knowing *exactly* what's wrong with me.


"A narcissistic or demanding mother can cause a child to mold him- or herself to please the parent to the point where little remains of the child’s own feelings and personality; they have been trained to display a false personality to gain parental approval."

Really wasn't kidding about that narcissism thing, guys. And speaking of that "false personality"?...


"...the fearful-avoidant have commonly developed a false self, an acceptable outer personality which inhibits spontaneous display of their innermost thoughts and feelings even in intimacy. Those who think of themselves as their friends will often be surprised and hurt when high stress brings out the true personality of the masked one. By hiding their true selves, such people live with a social support network that has been attracted by their fake persona, so that when a crisis occurs, those who might have cared for them aren’t around, and those who are around don’t care for the real person revealed by the crisis."


My 'false self' is not technically a false one at all. It's just another part of me. Rather than a person wearing a mask, I think of myself as an onion. And if you are a cook at all, you know that an onion has layers. And the more layers you peel off of the surface, the closer to the core of the onion you'll get. My onion skin (outer layer) is what strangers and acquaintances see. I think we all have onion skin for strangers and acquaintances. But if you peel that away, you'll see the layer underneath. This is the layer that friends and love ones see. Then below that layer, you have the part of you that perhaps only BEST friends see. Then under that layer, the part that perhaps only a lover or a spouse will see. And below that layer, you have the part of you that NO ONE sees. Well, some people stop there. But not me. No, I have dozens more layers under that one. There are parts of me that *I* don't even see that often. There are parts of me that only my illness (bipolar) brings out. And there are parts of me that haven't been seen by anyone because they are buried in the darkest recesses of my mind and subconscious. You get my point with all of this.

So yeah. I am hard to get close to. I am "fearful-avoidant". I'm working on opening up more layers to more people, but it's not an overnight process. If someone wants to be in my life and seriously be a long-time friend or more, they're going to have to accept me as the onion I am, and never try to peel my layers before I am ready to peel them first.

Stalk Much?

I've been bingeing on a certain Episcopalian female blogger lately.

I find her posts incredibly funny, refreshing, real, and honest. Her intelligence is enlightening, her opinions are sound and fair, and her sarcasm only adds to the pot. I guess you could say I'm obsessed.

I especially appreciate her faith-centered entries, because as of late, my faith in God is the only thing I have to cling to. I'm a recluse who only leaves the house for doctor appointments and church, so my only access to other humans is through the internet. For about the past two weeks, all of my Skype buddies have been MIA. Busy, sleeping, working, or just not in the mood to chat. Hey, it's fine- they have lives, I won't fault them for it. But it does leave me feeling just a little isolated and rejected.

It's my own fault for being a needy, insecure simpering fool, I know. I should be out living my own life, not waiting around for others to pause theirs in order for me to feel better. I'm working on it.

For now though, I'll just console myself with more bingeing.