A Kind of Catch-22

I started blogging because I believed that purging all the pain and telling the story that my family refuses to listen to would help me heal.

Well I’m not sure that is the case anymore. Meaning I don’t know if that is true for me.

I have adrenal fatigue. And that’s from all the years of living under stress as a child. My father was as unpredictable as an alcoholic despite not being one.  When he yelled it was loud. He’d been trained to enunciate as well as project his voice. He startled me a lot as a child and also as an adult.

When I got older I worried about disappointing my mother. I was let go from a job once. When she came to pick me up and I explained to her what I was told was the reason I could see the disappointment on her face, in her eyes.

I was young when that happened and I never forgot that. I tripped over myself to keep a job so as not to disappoint her. I was terrified to miss any work even if it meant driving for miles in the snow as to not piss of my boss. I didn’t want to take any chances at all.

The last quite a few posts have been posts I wrote a long time ago on another blog I’ve set to private. So I’ve been working on transferring them over here to ST.  But it’s been difficult. Not only emotionally, although that’s a part of it. But also because it’s taking a toll on me physically.

One of the last posts I transferred had me so angry and otherwise emotional, it brought on heart palpitations. I know they could’ve been from something else and I get them anyway. It’s weird. I can go months eating like shit and not have one heart palpitation. But the minute I start eating healthy, I get them every night.

But the ones I’m pointing out specifically, were a little different and I could feel them coming on while I was writing. And why would that not make sense? My heart was breaking. It’s painful to think back on those things.

I’ve written and talked about some of the same things. I have journals piled in a drawer in my night stand. My goal was to go through them and post here anything relevant after I’ve gotten whatever I want off of private here and transferred from the other blog.

But thinking about how this is effecting my heart, my adrenals and my thought process in general, I’m thinking it might be time for me to take a break. Maybe learn more about how to heal. Because I’m not sure writing about it is healing for me anymore.

I don’t know though. I have not made a definite decision yet as to whether I will stop blogging about all this. Or whether I’ll just burn the journal pages without rereading them or tapping them out here. I just needed to write my thoughts and what I’ve been experiencing related to blogging, out. As much as my OCD and the need to organize is pulling me to keep going, it seems as though my body is in need of another way. At least for now.

I’m tired all the time. And I’m angry and agitated much of the time too. I have felt some improvement with a change in diet but it’s difficult to stick to changes when the set-point is something else. My mid-back has given me pain when standing to long for years and I noticed tonight it felt worse than ever before.

I’m tired in another way too. I feel like my family, my abusive, callous, sick family is taking up way more residence in my mind and my life than they deserve, even though they are not physically present. 

I know that blogging is a great way to bond, validate and get validated for all the pain. It’s what’s kept me going. And I’ve definitely seen improvement in myself in many ways. I’ve gotten so much insight and love. It’s why I’m on the fence.

I also don’t think everyone is effected in this way. I’ve seen people keep going and then organically evolve into other topics. But I just seem to get more tired, more beaten and more weary.

For years, I had spent time feeling like I was waiting for something to happen before I went on with my life, now I feel like I’m waiting to finish something, before I can go on with my life.  Both scenarios are like a trap.

I’ve felt trapped all my life. My home environment was a trap. School from K-9 was a trap. Other kids made me feel trapped. In fact a couple kids I thought were my friends when I was 13, tricked me when they apologized for something they’d done, then trapped me between them to bully me.

All my life I have not been able to move forward. In many ways I have not been allowed to move forward. And now even though I’ve gotten away from the bullies, the assholes and abusers, I still live in a cage.

It’s like that line from the song,

Right after the line “Heaven knows it wasn’t you who set me free” there’s an instrumental sound that used to make me turn and look at the door to my bedroom because it was the sound it made when it opened. Just another startle response. But I always loved this song.

One thing though, I’m not feeling very strong.

Frustrated and Stuck

I hate that my words aren’t flowing. My mind is like a car, with a bad transmission.  So many thoughts, so many emotions. But the words won’t come. And if they do, it’s a few then they stop.

I don’t know if I’m trying too hard for an audience that may or may not be there or if I’m genuinely stuck on how to express everything that’s inside me.

In addition, I am overwhelmed and it seems that so much floods in all at once. How do I keep up?

When I go to write, my mind stalls and it doesn’t come out as eloquently as it seemed in my head.

It’s like a tall, thick, stone wall in my way.

Emotional Paralysis and Feeling Lost

ImLostBack in 2011/2012 a toxic relationship I was involved in ended. And it ended with a text. It was one of the most shocking experiences of my life. The months to follow carried some of the most excruciating emotional pain I’d ever felt even though I’d done a lot of pushing away and pulling him back in myself during the relationship, or more appropriately ‘the entanglement.’ Without getting into all the complicated details, I will just say he was unavailable in every way imaginable.

I found that picture, posted above, when the break up was fairly new. I was in such excruciating emotional pain that all I wanted to do was write. And I did. I wrote a lot of letters to him that I never sent. I wrote things that I struggled with to try to work them out. I even started a blog. Then I took it down and started another one.

I continued to do that…start one blog after another, taking them down as I went. For one thing I kept feeling too vulnerable. I wanted to share but was afraid to.

I was afraid of what people would think or say when they read it. Anyone. Any person I didn’t know. And as much as I struggled I could not get past that.

Then as I read and researched more about narcissism and getting hurt by a narcissist, I got more confused. I read things by bloggers who said it was a good idea to write about the experience. I even at one point felt coerced by someone who also suffered from extreme trauma. I had felt uncomfortable and hurt by this. I’d been coerced by others before and it was a trigger for me when this woman did it.

She thought it would do me good. Famous words of those who like to coerce. But although it bothered me I said nothing, fearing she’d get defensive and angry herself. When I finally said something after feeling coerced again and I found out that my prediction was exactly right. And it became another unresolved issue for me, even though I apologized.

I also read things by others who said that writing about it all is not a good idea. It keeps the wounds open and it does more emotional damage.

So in listening to others, I don’t even know what it is I feel and think is right for me.

Just to give another example where I have trouble with this: When it comes to figuring out what I should be eating for my body and health issues, I’ve been listening to others. Questioning myself.

It’s resulted in a lot of paralysis, procrastination, overwhelm and chasing my tail. Most of my days since the break up back in 2011/2012 I have spent wasting. I haven’t made any plans for any sort of future.  Just kind of floating through life, feeling like I’ve reverted back to my early teens emotionally and depending on someone else to keep a roof over my head. A very dangerous place to be at my age.

A year after the break up, my father became terminally ill and I got entangled with my family. They manipulated, triangulated and scapegoated me. Another topic I’d been wanting to cover. But again, I’ve been confused as to whether I want to or not. Whether it’s a good idea. Not to mention my own fear of what will the people I’m writing about think, say or do? Including the ex.

I seem to always have been and still am so worried about other people’s reactions. If I write something my brother doesn’t like, will I pay the price with him coming over and raging in my face? It’s not likely he’d find it because I doubt he’s roaming around on WP dot com. I blocked him on FB long ago and besides,  I don’t and wouldn’t share this stuff on FB.  That I’m settled on.

It feels like there’s a need to share my story while at the same time I can see how it could possibly keep one down. That’s not to judge what helps anyone else. I’m merely working out my own feelings here.  See? Right there, I’m worried that someone will think I’m referring to everyone. Sheesh! I can’t seem to win with myself.

I’ve hidden myself for so long from others, that it’s resulted in being hidden from myself, in self defense of repercussions of being who I really am.

So, it’s a scary thing to reach 50 and realize that you’ve held yourself back from expressing your truth because of what someone else or a group of someone elses might do. In fact it’s been going on so long I don’t even know my own truth in the moment in some instances. Shame is certainly a factor too.

I’ve reached a point once again where I’m not happy with this blog. You know when you mess up on paper, you just tear the page out, throw it away and start over? That’s what I want to do here.

In fact I did it before with another blog before starting this one, other than the ones I referred to above. I had written a bunch of posts on another blog with another user name and for quite some time I hadn’t been feeling comfortable with the user name and started thinking about wanting to use Sleeping Tiger.  I continually felt apprehensive about posting at the old one and posts became sporadic.

I’m beginning to feel that way again here. I started another blog too under this user name, but doing that has made me feel even more disorganized.

I think I do want to tell my story…at least some of it. But I also want to write about other things. And that’s another area where I get overwhelmed and scattered.

Do I really want to talk about my pet sitting experience on the same blog where I write about how my father’s abuse has effected my life?  Well yeah I kinda do but they don’t really go together, so…

And what if I can spin off the pet stuff into a business later? Then how good of an idea would it have been to keep the topics together? UUuUUUGgggggHHHHHhhhhh!!!

This is what I’m dealing with. And then I do nothing.

I really need to sort this out for myself because I would really love to blog. However, like I mentioned I’m feeling unsettled with this name now.

Originally I liked it obviously. I have a little box for my dowsing pendulum with a mama and baby tiger on the lid. The mama tiger is sleeping and the baby tiger is wide awake. It looks to me that the baby wants to get into some mischief while big mama sleeps.

That image is also a metaphoric symbol, personally speaking, how my mother is asleep and that I (her daughter) am awake to how toxic the whole dynamic of the family is.

Before I started this blog, I would look at that box and think, “Sleeping Tiger. That would be a good name for a blog.”

So finally I started this blog.

But I can identify with both tigers, even though I’m not a mom. I have spent most of my life asleep in pretty much every capacity of life, especially having difficulty coming out of denial of how bad it actually was. Although I knew there was something amiss, when I spoke up it was minimized or there was a clear message, whether verbal or non, that it was me who needed to work it out within.

The baby tiger, signifies the painful awakening of being right all along.

Edit July 22, 2017: Since originally posting this, I have become much more settled. I have made a definite decision not to write about pet sitting stuff specifically, although I do share some things about my own cat. I expect to share other photos of nature as well. But this blog is mostly dedicated to my story.

I have finally stopped starting other blogs to write on the same topic and it is my intention to move those posts I wrote before for other blogs to this one. 

I am also no longer worried about any exes or my family finding this blog. It’s anonymous. No one I know irl knows me as Sleeping Tiger. But quite frankly, I’m not really concerned about it anyway.

I still struggle to get closure with my past. So that is what this blog is for, and I am in therapy as well to work through it and to learn new skills in relating and getting along in life. But I don’t feel the same level of torment I did when I wrote this post originally.

Toxic and Looking for the Numb

Feeling numbToxic again.

The want is stronger than the ‘can.’

Just because I want to write doesn’t mean I can.

I feel stuck. The shit is in there but won’t come out.

Haha sounds like I’m talking about obstructive bowels and sometimes that happens. Correlation no doubt. Mind and body always connect.

My intention was to plow through all the hurt, all the proof of absence of love. The family toxicity is something necessary for me to work through, write about, feel the emotions it brings up. I start and even get some decent traction.

Not to get pity or even feel sorry for myself, but as a way of peeling off the layers of damage caused by my parents and later my siblings. So that I can be rid of the effects and heal. So I can find MY OWN damn voice and be the me underneath all the crud laid upon me.

I start.

But then I reach for something to dull or numb what I feel as a result of digging up the memories.

And then I get further stuck because I’m numb and then later angry at myself.

More waste, more wasted life, more of my life wasted.

I’m a failure and the thought of getting back on track feels necessary while at the same time overwhelming. I’ve been here before. I’ve done this before. The same ritual. Time to throw out the temptations. But then there’s only so much temptation I can get rid of since it’s not all mine to throw away.

I can’t throw out the pastries and cakes Mr. B brings home. My determination must be stronger and that can be difficult. Sometimes my resolve, dissolves.

The more I dig, the more the pain grows. I am so used to my habit of numbing or running, it’s almost mechanical.

I’m so alone. I’ve asked for support and to stop bringing the junk food home. But he won’t. Besides, as much as it would be nice to have such support, he isn’t responsible for my healing. I get into dark places at times and feel like he purposely sabotages me, and who knows, maybe that’s true. But I don’t think so..at least not in a conscious way.

I think he has his own pain, and yeah, perhaps he likes me where I am. It contributes to keep him in his own comfy place. But that’s not for me to control. It might suck, but the only person keeping me down now, is me.

I need to find a way to work through this shit. Stop nodding back off to sleep. Stop keeping myself small. Stop giving into my old habits.

Life and the Absence of Writing Progress

Geez. I haven’t posted in three days so I thought I’d better do that, if only for my own peace of mind because progress in writing isn’t going all that well. I have intentions and plans but no results as of yet.

Probably fear and my old/new friend “Scattered”, but a lot of it is being the irresponsible kid. “I don’t wanna.”  I’m not one to say, “Just get over it.” But that is one thing I do gotta get over. Being an adult I really do need to bite the bullet as they say and ‘just do it.’ Am I allowed to use Nike’s slogan?

So anyway, as I said, no progress in gathering notes. I feel like I’m trying to achieve some sort of momentum or traction. Like I have some invisible ducks to put in a row before I actually start to write or even gather my notes. The notes need to be gathered, though, that’s a definite.

Right now I’m listening to a not so far off jack hammer in action and I’m thinking, “There’s something I won’t miss.”

Not that I hear jack hammers everyday, but lately there is a lot of road construction around here. I think it’s the electric company laying new stuff under the streets. My town has been full of closed roads this summer and most of those roads are narrow, neighborhood and what you’d call back roads. The roads I use, so I can stay off the main ones.

In fact before I started writing, I walked into the room where my computer is and my kitty in a rare occurrence sleeping in the windowsill. And I could smell diesel. My first thought: “I won’t miss that.”

We are close to a fairly main road that is used for coming out of the city as well as coming off of a highway a few miles up from us.

I remember as a kid how I’d feel sick to my stomach when one of my parents stopped for gas. The smell made my stomach gurgle, as it did during the morning ride to school and later to work when we/I got stuck riding/driving behind something that used diesel fuel.

Luckily, even though I sometimes smell it in the mornings, it’s not as bad as being behind a vehicle that is expelling the waste of diesel out of the tailpipes. Closing the windows helps, but it sucks to have to do that on nice days like today. It’s overcast, but the temp. is perfect. I love the fall.

But that jack hammer is going to probably give me a headache. So…

As I’m writing it’s occurred to me to write a list of…well two lists. Since we’re moving, I want to do a list of what I’ll miss and then a list of what I won’t miss. I’ll do that in post form here. I think it will do me good too.

Other Progress

In the way of writing and blogging, I quickly went through some things I’ve written in the past, other than the things pertaining to abuse. I have a few different niches and I’m looking at this as a way to organize. That way it isn’t so overwhelming. The progress is a list of each topic/niche and a summary. I also have photos I’d like to post as well, maybe do something like a Wordless Wednesday blog with the pictures of my cat and the other cats around here. That’s a subject to make me laugh and smile, something I really need more right now to balance out this sadness and grief.

My back is feeling much better, in fact the pain is gone completely. So it must have been muscle and not my ribs. Thankfully.

I did some floor exercises on Saturday, mostly ones I learned in PT for a herniated disc. Despite the  heart palps, I need to find a way to exercise in this way because the herniation still causes some pain, especially if I sit for long periods of time. I’m surprised it wasn’t effected more after lifting that heavy bin.

No cardio but I still got heart palps that night. Also, I notice they start at night, which brings me to my sleeping pattern progress. It’s not going so well.

The other thing I’m questioning as far as the heart palps and I think I mentioned it in the last post about this, is the concentrated dietary oils. I in fact had a salad with a dressing made with olive and sesame oils on Saturday as well, and I actually felt the palps starting shortly after I ate that salad.

My eating habits as far as the food itself goes is pretty good. No junk and no take out.  It appears though that I’m going to have to really observe my reactions (not something new) to different foods even though they may be deemed healthy by the masses. They may not be right for me. I’m struggling with the timing of the meals though because I’m not getting up according to circadian rhythm. And that’s because I’m not going to bed according to it either.  This frustrates me but I also know this is a choice on my part.

This isn’t my own progress but Mr. B got a lot done in the garage this weekend. I think he got some momentum going by Sunday (yesterday) and we’ve now got some pretty interesting things sitting in our living room.  The plan is for him to be out there on the weekends up until the weekend before Halloween to go through everything (or as much as he can) out there and decide what he wants to sell, clean it up and bring it around front and into the living room. That way, we’re not hauling everything around the night before and the morning of our yard sale.

Right now we’ve got a nice pile going in a corner of our living room of some pretty interesting stuff. We needed to move a floor lamp and a chair into the dining room for more room.

One other thing that I got was the refinishing of a black board frame I’ve had since the 70s. I used it to draw on and play school with it. It had a couple rock band names written on the frame in magic marker. I sanded the whole frame down and then painted it with a stain that had a glossy finish ‘built into’ it.

It’s getting listed on craigslist before attempting to sell it in the yard sale. I have a couple other big things for craigslist as well.

I have a ‘To Do’ list to get through today of a few items. I had a checklist of three yesterday and did them all. So pat on the back from me to me. 🙂

As for my writing and doing all the other things I want to do, I think one part of the solution is to stop spending so much time reading, and get myself writing, posting, taking pics, organizing, packing, etc.

And work on that circadian thing.

And just to add, I’m not against reading. I love reading. I have learned a lot from reading. I am learning a lot from reading. I’m not going to completely stop reading. But I spend whole days reading sometimes and that’s what I’m talking about when I say I need to stop reading so much.

Update: Friday, June 2, 2017

Quoting part of the above post:
“As I’m writing it’s occurred to me to write a list of…well two lists. Since we’re moving, I want to do a list of what I’ll miss and then a list of what I won’t miss. I’ll do that in post form here. I think it will do me good too.”

I never did this. I really want to stop announcing things I want, intend or plan to do because I then don’t. Not that I’ll do it if I don’t announce it but at least I won’t be making empty promises to myself or others. It’s not like I’m thinking people are reading and holding me to everything I say or even remembering. It’s something that is important to me though, for self improvement purposes.

About the black board: It sold at the yard sale. I got some interest in it on CL but that prospect fell through. Tbh: I wish I’d kept it, especially after refinishing the frame. That thing was no joke either. Heavy and great quality.

Reading through this again, I see how little progress I’ve made in the last couple years and it’s depressing. I never followed through on getting any book together or finished with sorting through all posts.

It’s basically the story of my life. I plan and I plan to plan and then never implement the plan. Time to stop talking about what I’m going to do and just do it…or not.

I want mention though that I did sort through posts yesterday and pulled out the ones pertaining to the guy I had an affair with from 2009 until 2012. A lot of emotions there and some cringe worthy stuff. I feel so pathetic about some of the shit I wrote and expressed. My intention was to purge them onto their own blog but that remains to be seen at this point. If I do that, comments will be disabled.

 

Sorting Thoughts and Emails from My Father + Some Daily Detail

A muscle pain in my back really knocked me out yesterday. Luckily I have a friend who is a massage therapist and she was able to see me yesterday. It helped a lot but I was depressed and completely dysphoric afterward.

I thought about things I’d like to do and things that need to be done and was interested only in going back to bed. But then I did get some writing done by hand first thing in the morning. I was drawn to it to the point of need. A good part of that need was worry of losing what I’d wanted to say.

The mornings, as soon as I wake up is generally the time that my brain starts working in a writing way. I don’t always take advantage of it, but I need to start.

Most of what I’d written though is something I’ve written before, either by hand or keyboard. So that tells me that writing doesn’t release the pain the issue causes all by itself.

And just writing that, I start to feel tired again, I want to give up, throw my arms up and say, “You know, forget it. There must be something more productive to do.”

I’m finding it difficult to get my thoughts organized enough right now to produce an Open Office file that I could just simply upload to Kindle.

Do I really need a table of contents? And if I do can I insert it later? Because I have no idea what it will be if I have one at all after writing. I guess given what I want to publish, would constitute chapters. That would make sense and therefore a table of contents. But just the writing of it alone, and then combining that with the need to put the conscious effort of having to make it Kindle compatible is making me anxious as hell. And again I procrastinate.

But I remind myself I did do something yesterday towards it. In fact what I wrote by pen was much more descriptive and emotional than what I wrote by keyboard a couple days ago. And even if I did write the same ‘scene’ before, there will be something different about the way I wrote it yesterday morning.

And since I had an appointment to see my friend in the morning, I was up by 6:15 am yesterday.

Just to recap progress, I have gathered emails between my father and me and printed them out. I also drew out a calendar of the last and first two months of that year to see the timing of emails. I noticed that there were chunks of silence between emails when he didn’t need something from me.

I also went through other documents, I’d written via keyboard and sorted those into their own folder as well.

Other things to be done:
I want to go through some other emails that I exchanged with a friend who helped me immensely understand the abuse and how emotional abuse and family scapegoating works. I’ll be printing the ones out that pertain to that topic around what was going on at that time: First few months of 2013.

I also have some stuff I wrote by hand in journals that I want to sort through. Hopefully they can also contribute to organizing my thoughts and write something that really illustrates what happened and serves to heal the wounds it created. I’d like to figure out how to give it some background too. I was treated like a doormat and a dumpster for those few months, but the factors that allowed for such an environment didn’t happen overnight or exist in a vacuum. And it wasn’t the first time I was treated like that, it was just the first I was becoming awake and aware to it.

Other Stuff

Exercise: Yesterday was another day of no exercise. But given my back muscle pain that did feel better yesterday was still an issue. When I turned over on the massage table yesterday, I felt the pain shoot through my mid back around to my chest.

It’s a lot better today, but it’s still sore. I’m planning to take my bike out later in the day, before it gets dark. But that remains to be seen. That shouldn’t entail too much back use or even much arm use. It’s really just to get out for fresh air more so than for the purpose of exercise. There’s some little roads I can ride on to enjoy nature and take it easy.

Food: For breakfast (yesterday) I had rice and poached eggs.  The eggs are good that way if you don’t want to eat bread. Later I caved for potato chips. I know much of it was being depressed and looking for comfort. I made a ranch dip from cashews to go with it. That dip is really a dressing recipe and I’d planned to make it anyway to eat on salads with the chicken I made. Thinking that will be my (better) choice today.

That being said and done though, I didn’t eat as many chips as I normally would. I didn’t feel fulfilled or satisfied by them and I stopped eating them before the bowl I’d poured some into was empty. So back in the bag they went. They wouldn’t be here at all if not for my roommate though. Not that I blame him for my weakness. I just wanted to make clear I didn’t buy them.

Sleep: Despite my exhaustion last night I still didn’t go to bed til about midnight. And since I didn’t really have dinner, my stomach was growling. Luckily I can sleep on empty and I didn’t go give in to the hunger. It was too late at night.

This morning I woke around 8 and stayed up. Read a little. I took two other books out of the library besides the writing book I mention in this post. And again, I picked another winner. It’s nothing to do with writing though.

For breakfast (this morning) which wasn’t until about 10 or so I had a banana/peanut butter smoothie, made also with some cashew milk I made myself.

I also talked a little to Mr. B. (my roomie) about selling some stuff and getting out to the garage to sort through the stuff this weekend. He’s a pack rat, but he’s agreeable and knows this shit has to get done. At first I suggested listing on Craigslist and then thought better of it. I think a yard sale, despite having to have it in October will be better. We’ll get rid of stuff in one fell swoop and won’t have to arrange meetings with individual humans to buy things.

And since I no longer care about the cleanliness of the house, because my focus is on what’s needed for us to move,  we are going to start this weekend to bring the stuff around from garage to living room. We live in a small house and the stuff will take up a good portion of the living room. But to hell with dragging it around from the garage the morning of or even the night before. Preparing a bit at a time will relieve some stress.

Depending on what happens at this one, we may have another one the month before we move. Famous last words though.

Update Friday, 6/2/17
I wish I’d written the name of the book I’d mentioned above.
We didn’t have a garage sale the month before we moved. Garage/Yard sales are exhausting.
KIndle ebooks: There’s a project that went onto a back burner. It looks like I wasn’t too clear on why I was gathering emails. Looks like it was for an ebook. I still want to do that, but when/if it happens, it will more likely be for the blog and for insight.