Papa brought a bunch of photo albums - their wedding album included. October 2, 1954. <3 This is their 56th year of marriage. I asked them about it, and it's adorable. My Papa was 23 years old; my Nanny was 20. They got married in a little church in England. <3 I do so love their story. I hope my grandkids can say that about me and Seth one day. It would be remarkable.
And now to the real blog.
This is beautiful and sums up how I feel most of the time nowadays:
To me, that speaks so clearly to my intent in life at this point. I've had a somewhat revolutionary day feelings-wise. I've been struggling with the concept of death. I know this is going to sound morbid, but yesterday was my Papa's 80th birthday, as I posted. 80 is a big deal. But in an even bigger way, my hypersensitive psyche decided to focus on the fact that 80 is so close to the end. It's a point in someone's life where, when they die, the story can begin with "they lived a long life.." I kind of think once you reach 70 you can say this, but especially at 80 or above. To further solidify this point, I've had this terrible feeling that I will soon lose my grandfather. Not that that is what I WANT, but it's just how I FEEL. I feel like he really looks his age in a way that I've never seen. Maybe my young mind just never wrapped around that, but I don't think that. I honestly think that in the past six months or so, he has started to regress. He's lost a lot of weight and has taken on that yellow palor. He's started talking in ways that imply that he thinks his life is virtually over. He's having more health issues and he and my Nanny are being very hush-hush about it. I hate being hypersensitive sometimes; I hate having these thoughts when "normal" people probably wouldn't think that because they wouldn't want to.
But this brought home the other point even more: Life is so very complicated and indefinite and is a process. Today in my Psyc class, we were discussing Anna O. (You know, Freud and Breuer). Anna O was their case study on hysteria that basically lead to talk therapy as a phenomena.
Part of our assignment today was to relate to Anna O. (If you don't follow this part, quickly google Anna O. symptoms or therapy.) So we had to pick a memory we clearly remember repressing that then manifested itself later in our lives and we had to work through. So here is mine. This is not easy to write about, even now, but I feel like I have kept this blog honest for too long to regress now. My example was very strong and was the clear choice for writing about. When I was in 3rd grade, my parents divorced. --Yesterday would have been their 23rd anniversary -- I had this "oldest child complex" and this "mothering instinct" to take care of my brothers and be strong for them; to be the rock; to be the normal thing in their lives. And so I did. And I do not regret it, even for a second. But it was something that very clearly defined my life. I repressed those feelings for as long as I could. I didn't cry nearly as often as I most cerainly would have had I been in a different mindset. I tried to go with the flow. I was the protector.
A few years later, mostly sixth grade, my manifestation appeared. I developed an OCD/Anxiety disorder called Trichotillomania. In a way, it's a self-hurt type of concept. I caused harm to myself to try and express my hurt and my feelings. I became resentful and angry and was in a very bad place. I didn't have any idea of how to cope with what was going on and literally could not tell someone WHY I did what I did at the time. Looking back, I can see where my mind was, but during the time I'm sure I was a fright to deal with. I was confused and, introvert that I am, I pulled myself even more inward. We tried all sorts of "therapeutic approaches" and finally settled on medication. So, I medicated my OCD/Anxiety for a few years. I hid it well. But all I was doing was taking care of the surface issue.
When I reached college, I became aware that this issue still hadn't resolved. I had spent several more years dealing with the trich and dealing with the surface, but hadn't fully resolved how to come to terms with my childhood. I had started to deal in high school, towards the end. I reopened some closed off parts of my life and I grew. It wasn't until studying OCD/Anxiety/Depression in my freshman year of college that I finally saw the light. I understood. I could never conquer something that was a part of myself. That's impossible. I realized that now, I have a lifelong process of dealing with this manifestation. If I can better deal with myself, I can handle that aspect now. I have been good - no medication, no therapy other than self-reflection and friends/classes. And it's been going well. But it will never be over, because now, my mind has this manifestation sort of "go to" that any anxiety triggers. BUT, I am aware of my triggers now, and can somewhat predict my issues. It's freeing.
Now that I have spilled my problems out on a blog, I don't necessarily feel better, but I like that I can come back and read this in a few years when even more layers have been removed and I have grown even more. Isn't it amazing?
No comments:
Post a Comment