Self-Mothering
It’s been Mother’s Day today and a nice benefit of physical distancing is the lack of exposure to all the usual merchandise blitz.
I didn't have a meltdown today. I am grateful.
I planted Atomic Red carrots, encouraged the sugar snap peas up the trellis, appreciated the flowers, used both video games & yoga for soothing, did chores, and made us food.
So many meals made! I’ve never cooked so much! I’ve also never gone for such a long stretch without take-out, fast food, or restaurants. I find myself thinking about supply chains and what winter will look like.
Pride
I have a hard time feeling proud of my accomplishments. I'm sure it's part of the deep feeling that I'm not worthy of care, but in the case of teaching related accomplishments it really hits hard.
I could be happy about bonuses and raises when I was in the tech industry. There were trackable evidence that I worked my ass off. This monetary reward for good behavior didn't flip me into shame and misery.
Teaching though, humans telling me that what I'm doing is life changing is hard. Hardest still, people giving me money and wanting to support me. It creates cognitive dissonance between the evidence of my value and worth against the message that I’m not worthy of care or protection, my needs are potentially dangerous, and my opinions are subject to derision.
In Retrospect
After feeling so terrible yesterday I had some insights I’m still integrating.
Trauma Brain "works" according to Childhood Logic. Here is what seems to happen:
Students send me beautiful notes and donations for teaching online and keeping community going. Related: contribute money for my training.
I meltdown in anxiety, shame, despair, and feeling like I’m a failure and a terrible person until I'm nauseous, can't eat, & get weepy.
Further compounding the misery, I can’t ask for help. Trauma Brain is constantly reminding me that asking for what I need is A) Dangerous physically or mentally or both, B) No One Will Help, because C) You’re not worthy of having you needs met.
And then comes despair.
Today was better. I discovered a great photo I got of a bee butt in the garden and I did a hard thing successfully, I even felt successful!
Terrible Tuesday
Today felt hard.
It didn't matter that I taught and it made people feel better. They sent me money and I began worrying; will I have to give back unemployment because people give me $2.50 a class?
Food felt hard and then I burned my dinner and CK's was dry.
I felt so weepy and despairing. I'm less so now, now I just feel angry.
It wasn't even like I read or watched any news. I didn't do any errands. No anniversaries that trip me up. Nothing other than living during a pandemic with a Federal government that keeps gaslighting us while behaving creully.
Same Old Rage
I felt tired today and finally took a nap after lunch. We played video games, each our own, we attempted to repair the greenhouse, and I did laundry.
I feel like I need to write something insightful. That's how I get stalled blogging. No poems, no idea what to say. A title totally stumps me.
I'm tired, my head hurts, I am deeply sad, I'm furious. I'm hurting, and very angry for my child self. I’m afraid for the world, for us. I’m sad CK won’t get an amazing 40th birthday like I had.
Out front yard still needs weed whacking, we so beyond mowing. The moments we’re all ready to do it, it starts pouring rain.
We’re getting better at working together again. We’re getting caught up. I never feel like I do enough.
Raindrops on plants in the garden have me joy today.
Smoke and Mirrors
I’m realizing more and more how childhood logic created my belief that I’m utterly toxic. It explained why people left, it explained why my Mother hurt me, and keeping it propped up was less painful than confronting the feeling that I’m worthless.
This logic comes up when I find myself walking through my Mother’s last years of her life. I catch myself in the act of noting all the ways I failed to heal her. I notice that I’m sure I hastened her death.
My “core of toxic danger” is a smoke screen. Something easier to work with since I get to just blamed myself. Accepting I have this deep chasm of worthlessness is so painful that of rather be blaming myself for her death than accept that her abuse told me again and again I was worthless.
The more I keep going into it, the more clearly I see that the core message of my early childhood was that I was worthless, or, as as my Mother was fond of saying*, “You’re more trouble than you’re worth!”
*If called on saying things like this, my Mother, and other family members would reply, “I’m joking! Don’t be so sensitive, can’t you take a joke?!”
Mayday
Thought about this play on words with today’s date several times. A call for help. The first day of May.
Today was more productive. I recorded a new video after teaching. My Sunday newsletter is nearly done. I got some groceries after which I took a hot shower then made a large margarita.
I’m trying to make our Fridays a little special, so the days don’t blur together. We had chirashi last week. This week we had frozen margaritas and fancy salads with a creamy dressing I made with avocado, soaked pepitas, cilantro, lime, and seasonings.
I still don’t feel like I get enough done, but I played Animal Crossing anyway. I think I’ve felt that way for decades now. I’m guessing the trauma contributes; the feeling that I must earn my worthiness again and again. The feeling like I’m dangerous and terrible unless I offset it by productivity.
No haikus tonight, but I am working on a poem!
Revealed Self
Today I told students that teaching online is more about supporting my mental health than recovering the income I‘ve lost teaching for the City. It came up because students were asking about ways to pay me and if I’d contacted the Silver & Fit organization about getting registered with them and paid forth my classes.
I told them I hadn’t had the bandwidth for it, and this week I’ve been dealing with pharmacy stuff and had therapy. My cortisol brain can only manage so much in a day.
I told them to just come. To email me pictures of flowers in their yard or paper notes, which I treasure. These are all perfectly good payment options since teaching online is helping my mental health.
It felt highly vulnerable and like I was doing something wrong. Which probably means it was the right choice. This is a crappy method of figuring out what to do, but here I am!
Daring to reveal.
Vulnerable to be seen.
No more hidden Self.
Weight of Memories
Today felt hard.
I spent much of the morning arguing with my Mother's bullshit that decided to play on my head. Connecting with students lightened my mood a little, but I spent the rest of the day feeling exhausted.
I felt shame. The nagging feeling that I should be doing more with my time off from commuting. That we have it relatively easy and safe, but I'm weighed down by memories and the dread of the coronavirus.
Every other day I've noted the USA death toll on this month's art journal signature. I take the number from the CDC website. Today it me know that across two days nearly 5,500 people have died.
Still, there was the rain falling and Camillia flowers that drop off so perfectly before they decay. I spent some time under the eaves admiring them in the damp.
Spring rain hangs heavy.
Raindrops on fallen flowers.
Weight of memories.
Transient Beauty
All the pink faded from the apple blossoms and they were starting to wither away. Today the rain returned, I'm sure it will knock these last petals off.
Transient beauty.
Spring's blossoms fade so quickly.
Delicate as hope.
We spent the day playing games. CK asked if I wanted to get Animal Crossing a few weeks ago. It is pretty expensive, to my mind, and I was reluctant. I worried I'd get it and not really get into it and waste the money.
How I see myself as worthy of a $60 game is directly related to trauma therapy.
Homelessness at age 4 where you are repeatedly shamed by your family while you shelter with them leaves traces. That it coincides with signification abuse from my Mother, instead of loving support, makes it complicated to admit to my wife I want her to buy a game, and online subscription, while I'm not working.
The results of my scary game purchase? I played nearly uninterrupted for four hours today! It's really a sweet, kind way to just rest.
It was rainy and chilly after several Sunny warm days. Sitting on the sofa with the dogs and Obie playing a sweet game really was a blessing.