That inner voice.

Posted on September 21, 2012 by Granny Panties

Well this post is thanks to my wonderful therapist. She has spent the last 2 1/2 years with me on this roller coaster of life. She has seen me at my absolute lowest of lows and has been riding the waves every week on my journey of healing.

Today we spent a lot of time challenging my inner voice. I’m not talking about the one that guides you well. You know – the OTHER one – that negates everything good, by pointing out the bad. Some call it the dog or man on their shoulder. Michelle from the Cedric Centre calls it “the drill sergeant,” in her book Food is Not the Problem. http://www.cedriccentre.com/books/

Honestly, no matter what you call that voice – its annoying to hear. That incessant chirping in my head never shuts up. I referred to that voice today as “psycho bitch”. I can’t give myself accurate credit for ANYTHING without my psycho bitch telling me how it isn’t good enough, or I didn’t do x,y or z, I “should” have done better. When the voice was called The Drill Sergeant, I could accept it, but I didn’t really feel a direct association to her. But Wow, when I called her a “psycho bitch”, that upset me. I DO associate myself with that voice. So suddenly I was calling myself a psycho bitch, and I was hurting yet again.

I don’t want to be a psycho bitch. I don’t want to BE that voice. And yet I’m guided or rather “mis”guided constantly by her. I don’t get how she’s “protecting me” or “helping me get thru anything”. She’s pushing and shoving and knocking me down every time I try and make a single step. She’s my storm wrecking my beach, and hiding my shells. She’s breaking up the shells and leaving jagged edges for me to cut my feet on. And I’m fed up.

I don’t want to be this negative, this jaded, this distrustful. I don’t want to be lazy or useless. I don’t want to be fat, or diabetic. I don’t want to be mentally unstable and depressed. And yet it feels like EVERY single time I make a step in the direction of something “better”, or “healthier” or more balanced, good ole psycho bitch is there to make sure I end up back on my ass on the ground. And THEN points, laughs and tells me how useless and crappy I am. That I’ll never be better or successful and that I’m a FAILURE.

It has happened so often that that feels normal. So I’ve just come to accept that I’m a failure. That I AM this psycho bitch who can’t do anything right. And that makes me sad, so I cry on the inside, and often those tears leak out. So now I’m a blubbering psycho bitch. GREAAAT. Just what i wanted. How attractive. NOT!!!!

My counselor says that the role of the drill sergeant has value and a purpose, but needs to let my other parts – the ones that see the good things – have more time and space. Ok. So we made a list of things I’m proud of doing. Not monumental life changing things – everyday stuff. And EVERY time I wrote something down, my psycho bitch was pestering me with the “yeah but you didn’t do….” or “Yeah but you SHOULD be doing…”. SHUT UP!!! Just SHUT THE FUCK UP!! I don ‘t want to hear it anymore. I’ve HEARD you long enough. JUST SHUT UP!!! PLEASE!

There isn’t enough room for that attitude. She’s hogging all the space. She’s controlling every move and every thought. I want to be able to sit in my LR right at this moment and see the 4 piles of folded towels and linens and think “good job – you did the laundry” But instead I’m hearing “lazy lazy lazy you STILL haven’t put those away. Are you EVER gonna get off your ass and do it?”

Instead of looking at the pile of mail, bills and flyers beside me and thinking “Geez I’m a slob – those need to be put away and/or in the garbage” I WANT to be able to think “Yeah – you sorted all the mail, and paid the bills. Great job” But I just CAN’T.

And even though the thoughts are bringing me down, and it would take all of 5 minutes to get the towels put away, or the mail into the recycle bin. I can’t do that either! It’s like I WANT to be stuck – so the psycho bitch can be right and at least then I can have something to believe that’s true. YUP I’m a lazy useless no good failure. Psycho Bitch has known it all along and now I can see she is right.

I can’t seem to find that switch to change my thinking. I feel so stuck and I’m so frustrated. If you don’t live with an overbearing inner voice, I can’t explain it. Just imagine your worst enemy following you around NON-STOP nitpicking at EVERY single thing you do. Relentlessly trying to push you into an abyss from which there is no return. Until finally you just fall into it and say “there” “you got me”.

I guess its the same thing as parents and teachers being told “don’t label kids with negative associations, or they may just achieve them ” Is that what happened to me? Was I told “you are so smart, you can do better” “Nothing lower than a B is acceptable” too often, and now I can’t be happy with average?

Everyone has inner voices, just like everyone wear’s underwear. (OR should!!). But our voices seem to have different sizes. Some drill sergeants are small and don’t occupy much space – like wearing a thong I guess! My drill sergeant’s voice is like my panties – OVERSIZED and dominant. But unlike my granny panties which are comfortable, my inner voice is NOT comforting. So I’m going to keep working at hearing her comments and telling her to step aside and let others speak. That I’m NOT INTERESTED in her feedback THANK YOU VERY MUCH.

And that’s me! GP

Tears of Love

Posted on September 12, 2012 by Granny Panties

It seems I’m destined to cry. A LOT. For so long I’ve wept or sobbed tears of grief. Then tears of endless frustration and exhaustion. Now its seems I am crying over good things. I’m like a permanent fountain of tears set to ON. All the time.

Lately anytime anybody does or says anything good to me or about me, I cry. I just instantly well up. If I can’t dodge the comment or change the subject I end up crying. I’m embarrassed. I feel like I’m being overly sensitive and silly.

I think I’ve struggled so long thinking I was alone, or being negatively judged, that when someone shows compassion and understanding I just burst. I’m too tired to be strong by myself. But I’m not willing to believe that others value me or honestly WANT to help. So whenever it happens I’m overwhelmed by the love and support. Then WHOOSH. Tears.

They are like a relief I guess. An outward release. I’m NOT alone. I am loved. I’m not imagining this burden. It is real. It is hard. But I NEED an off switch. I’m out of kleenex.

I wish I could accept in my heart that my challenges are not a sign of my inadequacies. Each time a family member or friend supports me and points out that its not me, I want to fight it. Because inside its easier to blame myself than to just accept life as it’s been dealt to me. And now as I’m clawing my way up into the land of the living – I keep getting overwhelmed with the LOVE. And I have a hard time accepting that love too. Why would anyone want to love ME? I’m messed up. What makes me worthy of their time, love and efforts?

So then because DESPITE me being messed up – I’m being given tidbits or huge chunks of love and my heart melts and LEAKS freaking tears! So I’m just a crying machine. I should be given a role on TV as “crying person” because I have it mastered. Cry now – OK! Easy. I just have to think of something sad, something that makes me mad, or something that makes me HAPPY and I can cry. BOOM. Open the flood gates!

People talk about tears of joy, and sure we see them at weddings etc. But honestly – reading an email makes me cry. BOOM. Or when a friend argues with me that I’m justified being on LTD and not a burden on society. BOOM. Or that yes dealing with my family’s issues is tough. BOOM. or seeing my daughter’s smile light up the room as she tries her new dance class. BOOM. or having a wonderful heart to heart with my son, and seeing his maturity. BOOM. or realizing just how much I’m considered part of my husband’s family. BOOM.

So hoist up your pants right to your panties, because my tears are leaving puddles everywhere I go. At least for once it’s tears of love.

And that’s me. GP

One day, one step, keep going

Posted on August 2, 2012 by Granny Panties

When the world comes tumbling down and leaves your life all broken,

it’s hard to pick yourself back up and seek out just a token

of what was once your day to day pattern of existence.

Instead you now must forge ahead with courage and persistence

through endless tears, and fights with those you love with all your heart,

to heal the pain and lick your wounds and make a brand new start.

The voice of doubt and inner fear that what you do is wrong

is hard to shake and rips you up and makes the road too long.

So crumpled in heap upon the ground, too tired to move,

your hopes of ever finding joy again just seem to prove

elusive in the constant battle of pain and endless torrent.

Instead you seek a therapist, who sits and lets you vent.

“One day; one step; keep going,” is a mantra you repeat

impossible to honour when each day you feel defeat.

Words of advice that are no help just make you question why.

“What is the point?” “Who’ll understand?” “Why should I even try?”

But push on through, buck up stand tall, keep faith, believe and toy

with the hope that there will come a day when in your heart is joy.

Little sponges

Posted on August 2, 2012 by Granny Panties

I’ve had my eyes opened dramatically in the past 24 hours. I have my 5 year old niece visiting us. This is her first time to our home. And as most 5 year old kids, do, she says what she is thinking with no filter. Her comments are a reflection of what she sees based on her own perceptions.

As I noted a few blogs ago, I didn’t remember “teaching” my own daughter my ways of thinking. But suddenly I am seeing my warped ideals and misconceptions being repeated in her thoughts. I didn’t want my child to suffer the same frustrations I have. I didn’t TRY to influence her in those negative thought patterns, and yet somehow she absorbed those problems like a sponge.

I’m seeing trends already in my niece that are no different. She is clearly a sponge too. As soon as my niece got in my van, she right away said “you really need to clean this”. Sure there is some garbage in the van – a take out bag, a disposed bag of chips from the beach last week, a towel, some misc. stuff – but actually – compared to what we sometimes have – its pretty darn good! Within 10 minutes of being in our home, she commented on my LR “why is it so messy?” I told her it wasn’t – sure the throw cushions and blankets were tossed on the floor – so what?! we USE this room. and sure there is a laundry basket with a couple of towels waiting to be put in the linen closet, and my daughter’s camping bin with her clothes ready to take to the trailer (she had just packed them for our upcoming trip). And the room was vacuumed about 5 day ago -so relatively tidy. So she pointed to the stains on our 10 year old carpeting – “but that’s dirty”

Since when does a 5 year old comment on house keeping and carpet stains? Where did she learn this “standard” Who TAUGHT her that a room has to be “perfectly tidy” and essentially immaculate? I bet her mom (my sister-in-law) didn’t intentionally sit her down and tell her that clean is good and messy is bad. etc. But this little sponge has figured out that value.

I’ve spent YEARS agonizing over the “perfect home” syndrome and not living up to it. Worrying what if someone shows up and judges me. Thinking that I’m a worthless person because I can’t keep the spotless home AND live in it too. That I’m not a neat freak and don’t clean and tidy all the time. I have wished at times for a bit of the OCD cleaning vibe some of my friends have. I struggle daily. I don’t want to live on fake pretenses. I want to believe that the state of my home is NOT what i’ll be judged on – that I’ll be judged on my morals and values and actions, and not whether I have a laundry basket in my LR.

But then WHAM – a FIVE year old reinforces my warped message. NOPE – not good enough. MUST CLEAN MORE. I don’t measure up. BUT WAIT.. I need to say STOP. I need to halt the thinking.

I’ve been continually frustrated by my SIL (her mom) for this VERY issue. I’m not allowed to visit my brother unless her house is perfect. They are out of town. I may only see them 1 or 2 times a YEAR. And I HAVE to give ample warning if I want to show up at their home, so that it can be “clean enough”. My brother has had to be secretive if I come over when the house has not been “ready”. I don’t care about their home. I really don’t. I want to see them! I suffer the same self doubt as my SIL – the “what will others think of me” if something isn’t right. I GET it.

But to hear my niece comment in a disgusted tone, on a yard full of dandilions “that yard has lots of weeds” (thankfully NOT mine! 🙂 is sad too. She has already developed that perception that outward appearances is important. Like a sponge, she has absorbed that message. And I bet, like me and her mother, it will haunt or trouble her as she grows older and tries to continually strive to meet that unattainable high standard.

It makes me cry when I see my daughter getting therapy to help her break her distorted thinking. I feel guilty. I blame myself. But my therapist pointed out something critical – “she is breaking that pattern NOW. She has not spent 40 years thinking this”

I’m trying to break the thinking traps. I’m trying to replace distorted thinking with realistic thinking. I’m trying to ignore the messages of a 5 yr old and remember that a Social worker was just in my home a week ago (for other reasons) and says I’m doing absolutely fine. That there are no concerns with my home. I have to believe this. I have to take it to heart. I do NOT (and nor does my SIL) have to have a spotless home, to be a worthy person. And my little sponge next to me, is learning valuable lessons every second – whether I “teach” it consciously or not.

She needs to learn that we are OK – granny panties and all – and that perfection in our home or life is NOT going to happen and trying to achieve that will only lead to continual disappointment.

My personal goal is to accept it AS IS. and be HAPPY with that.

That’s me. GP

Trust and Friendship

Posted on July 30, 2012 by Granny Panties

For a couple of days, I haven’t been able to write. I haven’t found something “inspiring” or “worthy”. I didn’t want just drivel. I wanted something more profound. Today I realized, that I am the only one in my way of finding the profound. I needed to reach deeper, past the surface and into my heart and truly “see” what’s hiding.

I’ve also been inspired by some of the comments that have appeared on my blog. To realize that my words, thoughts or ramblings, have impacted others, was exciting.

Exciting because it challenges one of my core beliefs of being a failure and unworthy. I never believe that I have any value or that my life matters much to others. I know I have kids and I matter to them. But when a disgruntled kid tells you “I hate you”, I take it to heart and believe it. So discovering and allowing myself to believe that my voice and actions matter is exciting. To think that I might have friends or people around me who WANT to be there in spite of my own insecurities is exciting.

I took a risk today. I impulsively invited a few close friends over for a swim and a BBQ. I like to be social, but I’m always afraid that I won’t be good enough. That my house won’t be clean enough, or the situation interesting enough. Since my husband died 2 years ago, I have rarely had people over. I’ve been too embarrassed. Too depressed. Too scared to take a risk (even with close friends) to be vulnerable and let them in my home. All the voices in my head of “you are a failure” “you aren’t good enough” have been too loud. My husband was someone who lifted me up emotionally and I had more confidence when he was alive. But since then, its all been on me – I have had to be the one to lift myself up. And I just haven’t had the strength. I’ve wanted to, and have had to plan and plan, so that I could be “ready”. and so often, I end up just “not ready yet”.

Today as I was vacuuming the swimming pool, I got thinking. Thinking that I hadn’t seen enough of my friends lately. (we have a close knit group of several families who’ve kids have grown up together for the past 14 years). And my kids haven’t seen their friends. Thinking that we will be leaving for a month of holiday and I won’t see them at all. So I suddenly thought – I’d love for them to come over and swim and have a BBQ. And today would be a perfect day.

What is so unusual though, is instead of instantly thinking of every excuse why this was a BAD idea – such as the lawn needs mowing, the patio isn’t finished, the house isn’t clean (meaning that there are dishes, laundry and vacuuming to be done!), etc etc etc. I grabbed my phone. I went for it. I took a plunge. I jumped into the ocean wave, uncertain of what was waiting for me. I was not exactly confident. I was hopeful for a moment that, I would in fact have a “party” of my friends/kids. I was excited at the prospect.

First call = most likely, but later on. I felt a bit of disappointment that it would be “later”. Second call = no answer (suspected family out of town for son’s tournament) – More disappointment. I really wanted to include them. And also knew that first person was more likely to come if 2nd was there too. Sigh.

Feelings of self doubt and self worth began. What the hell am I thinking? I can’t host anything. Nobody is going to want to come here. But I still braved the waters again. I made a third call. And she was going to check with her son and husband but sounded like a definite yes. Ok – feeling a bit empowered. I got a life vest on. I can do this.

I called the fourth. Another Yes, but later on. Ok, this will happen. So called back first person to let her know about the others!. And off to the store I went, excited that i was going to see my friends and host a “pool bbq”.

I now suddenly wanted to be the hostess with everything. I wanted to be prepared. I wanted to be worthy. I didn’t want to let anyone down. I didn’t want to disappoint. In years gone by, that would have meant preparing everything from scratch. I didn’t have time or energy and suddenly I was ok with that. I’m not sure where that bit of confidence came from. But I will sure take it.

But by the time I finished shopping I have a text from one saying – nope she has a friend coming over. What? Instantly I was crushed. I was thrown on the shore by my wave and dumped in the sand. The message in my head was “she’d rather see someone else. She got a better offer.” But I had to GET UP. Shake it off. Dig deeper inside. check the facts.

I decided Whatever… She doesn’t want to see me, Fine. don’t. I’ll see the other 2 families and she won’t. Her loss. But there was that inner voice knocking me down. Saying – bet the others will cancel too. Nobody really wants to see you. You aren’t worthy of their time. They will be no shows.

I jumped into my pool and enjoyed the water. I put on some music outside. I encouraged my kids (ok I forced my kids) to come outside too. And we hung outside and waited. And hoped the others would still come. I got a text from the out of town one. – was on a ferry and MIGHT come by. The others still haven’t cancelled. I remained hopeful. But the voices in my head kept trying to pull me under and drown me.

I didn’t spend my time washing every last dish, wiping down the counters and table and mowing the lawn. I played in the sun. I was allowing myself to just BE.

And the 2 families who could come “later” DID! And we had a great time. And the ones who were on the ferry came too! WOW. honestly I was so pleased. And I served a simple menu and everyone was happy. And I wasn’t 2nd guessing my housekeeping status every second. I just allowed myself to visit. And it made me happy.

The profound thing was that I TRUSTED my friends with myself AND… I TRUSTED myself with my friends. Its one thing to hear “we aren’t here to visit your kitchen (house etc), we are here to visit YOU’. But its hard to believe it. Society has trained so many women to think that we have to be the perfect hostess etc. And then it becomes hard to enjoy the company we have. Tonight I was able to live that. My friends were here to see ME They WANTED to come. And I got to visit them.

There is still that horrible voice in my head saying “why would they want to visit you?” But I took a leap of faith. A leap of spontaneity and opened myself up. Made myself truly vulnerable and triumphed. I honestly think every person, including the kids had a good time. Nothing was perfect. It was all impromptu. And it didn’t matter. Because everyone was there for FRIENDSHIP.

I conquered that voice for a few hours today. I conquered those beliefs for a brief time. I took that plunge into the wave of unknown, and came out riding it. I know that there will be many more waves ahead. Many more chances to succeed and fail.

But I have to trust that my friends don’t care if my home/life is perfect or if I wear granny panties. I have to trust that they are my friends because they care about ME. All of me. Just as I am. And that’s a profound lesson for me to truly accept.

And that’s me. GP.

STRESSED

Posted on July 24, 2012 by Granny Panties

I have tried to tell myself it doesn’t matter. I’ve tried to say “I don’t care” I’ve tried to believe the Social worker saying its not a big deal. BUT IT IS!! She is coming here today for a home “visit”. I repeatedly used the term “inspection” and the social worker was uncomfortable! SHE didn’t like it!

OMG. A visit is where you have a cup of tea, some muffins or cookies or something and talk, chat, cry, laugh and VISIT! That is NOT what she is coming here to do. She is coming here to walk through my home and make sure “it’s a safe environment”. That’s is a fucking inspection. She is INSPECTING my home. And I can’t believe that she thinks calling it something else will make it any less foreboding. SERIOUSLY?!

I know she’s not “the housekeeping police”. But even if I have my in-laws coming I would want things all tidy and vacuumed. But at least with “guests” you can shut off rooms (like my office or the kids rooms) and not let others see them. She will be required to come and look at it all.

I know I have nothing to hide. I know it shouldn’t matter. I’ve been TRYING hard to believe that I don’t care what she thinks. That its a stupid formality. So why did I cry myself to sleep? Why did I wake up half a dozen times? Why am I so freaked out? Because somebody else is coming to judge me?! And I don’t think I measure up. I WANT to have a perfect home. But I don’t. So my “you are a failure” message is resounding in my head as I scrub the kitchen floor with the mop and realizing that the cupboard fronts are dirty and will have to stay that way.

I have a little over an hour. I still need to have my shower. Get my son to unload the dishwasher, so i can load it again. (first I have to get my son out of bed – and since i heard him cleaning at 5am – I suspect he hasn’t had much sleep yet). My daughter doesn’t care. She is quite content that her room is a disaster. I helped her for 2 hours yesterday. But a stranger seeing it now, won’t know how much worse it was! Its awful. My office is really bad.

ARGGHH. I wanted to let this “visit” (such a joke) just slide off my back as no big deal. But it IS! And I’m STRESSED. and somehow all this is being done to HELP me. Ok sure.

The system is so messed. And its making me a mess. My anxiety is peaking. I’m even contemplating taking an Ativan. So how is this a good thing?! How is this HELPING me?

If the social worker found it made her uncomfortable when I kept saying inspection, then she needs to stop for a moment and THINK. “if I’m uncomfortable and I have all the power, how must the client be feeling?” Cause its a WAY bigger deal to me. She is doing a job. She will write a report. I have a basket of laundry to fold, dishes to do, rooms to clean and all of it is on display for her to write about! ARGHH!

I’m soooo stressed out. I don’t want my Granny panties to be inspected or ‘visited’ . I want to be left alone!

And that’s me. GP.

WHY?

Posted on July 22, 2012 by Granny Panties

I’ve never understood why I’m much more willing to help someone else than I am to help myself. And I suspect I’m not alone on this.

It applies to almost every aspect of my life. I am way more critical of what I do, say, etc than I ever would be of ANYONE else.

Yesterday is a perfect example. I was more than willing to help pack and move boxes for a friend (who didn’t even ASK me for help), than I am to do virtually any task at home for myself. I took a friend’s child over for a sleepover, so those parents could have an evening off. But am I able to ask for the same help? Nope. Do I think I should ask for help? Nope. Do I think I deserve the help? NOPE! and yet I feel the others deserve it. I think they are worth it. I think they’ve earned it.

On more than one occasion, I’ve had a therapist ask me “what would you do/think if this was a friend in this situation?” “What advice etc would you tell them?” and I am HONESTLY stymied that I can’t treat myself with the same respect and rights as I’d give my friends. One therapist went so far as to have me contact a friend, and have her write out some reasons WHY, she liked me as a friend. The list made me cry. But the realization that I can’t create that list for myself is upsetting. I truly can not fathom WHY people like me. Or what good they see in me. Or why they want to be around me.

Its so hard to give myself accurate credit for what I do. I dismiss things too easily or negate them. Rather than thinking “good for me, for packing over 1/2 my friends kitchen into boxes” I think “what a procrastinator you are, you should be cleaning your own kitchen, you lazy ass”

Instead of acknowledging that I did something nice for someone, I’m too busy criticizing myself for something I haven’t done. Or “should” have done.

I WANT to like and respect myself. I envy those who have (or appear to have) self esteem. I’m trying desperately to re-think the way I do and see things, so that I will change. But it just seems that I end up more critical of myself. I end up comparing everything and I come up short. (which is easy when you are only 5’3 1/2).

When I try to lose weight, I end up comparing my success with someone else. And if she has lost more, then I think well its because she’s better than me. She’s more committed to the goal. And if she’s more committed to the goal, its because she’s better than me at dieting. And since she is better at dieting, its obviously because she’s a better, stronger, more capable person. Its because I’m a failure and I suck at stuff. I can’t just stop and let it be that we lose at different rates. It’s black and white – all or nothing. Since I’m not doing perfectly, i don’t want to at all. If I am not the best, I’m the worst. There is no 1/2 way.

And somehow without realizing it, I’ve taught my daughter the same messed up perception. So now I’m ruining her life too. Apparently it’s not bad enough that I see everything all askew…now my daughter gets to see it that way too. I hadn’t even known I’d said anything or done anything, for her to get this messed view. Why do I have these perceptions? I don’t remember being “taught” them. Just like I certainly don’t remember “teaching” them to my daughter. So WHY does she see things so black and white too?

Why can’t I accept help as readily as I’d offer it? Why do I feel needing help is weakness? I certainly don’t think any of my friends are weak. I feel they are all much stronger than I, and yet I’m willing to give them help. And I don’t think they are weak for accepting it. Why is it, that if someone takes my kid for the day or a playdate etc, I think I will OWE them big time. And yet, when the shoe is reversed, I don’t think they’d owe me anything at all.

I just don’t know WHY I have this totally unattainable, unrealistic, high standard for my life. But don’t expect anyone else to have to strive to it. I’ve mentally collected all the positives that everyone else does, and put them ALL into ONE package deal. And I can’t do it. (I’m not sure if anyone actually does) But since I can’t – I’m a failure. AT EVERYTHING. And since I’m gonna fail, why start? why bother?

So once in a while, I’ll help someone else, and I feel good for a few moments. I like the positive feedback – the “oh thank you so much” etc. And for a moment I smile and feel proud of myself. Even to a point, where I allow myself to feel smug because “I” did that “whatever it was” and not someone else. But just as quickly I wipe out that feeling, and replace it with a negative reminder of a failed aspect in my day to day. WHY? does it make me feel better? Nope. But I’ve become more used to being miserable on the inside. And the warped perception I have, tells me that I deserved the bad things. That I’m being punished for being bad. Why? who knows…

So, day by day I need to acknowledge and ACCEPT some things I’ve done that are GOOD and worthwhile and stop there. NOT negate them. NOT replace them. And maybe one day I can stop asking Why.