Hang on tight to peace… I knew when I wrote that it wasn’t possible. One can choose to let things go, and sometimes lose the fight. Simple things upset my equilibrium. One moment OK, the next? Up till 3 AM taking a double dose of Xanax which makes me sleepy the entire next day. And I haven’t had to that in a long while, though this past few weeks twice now.
Autumn’s approach has exacerbated my sleep issues as my brain adjusts to less light. Going to chorale adds tension by tiny interactions which make me lie awake thinking about them; a new member more aggressive than me, pulling up her chair in the middle of an intense discussion with my neighbor who was fascinating me with her story.
What do I do? Well, as the people pleasing ‘nice girl’ that my mother trained me to be, I pulled back my chair to make room for her, and never heard the rest of this wonderful story. Others would look at her briefly than go right back to their conversation until finished.
The fact that Adele hasn’t bothered to respond, and my guess never will, makes me feel as if I’m not meant to have help and support. I know in my mind that is not a true fact, it just feels that way. I feel like others get a fix on my insecurities and take advantage of them as she seems to be doing.
One way to hurt me back is to ignore me. I had been in so much pain about that very fact as I cried and grieved about siblings who didn’t bother to respond or acknowledge my pain. And like a previous therapist, Matt, they feel they can get away with outlandish behavior. I still question myself. If I’d stayed quiet, I’d still have her. To have to open the telephone book to start again is just too much right now.
I must keep reminding myself that the tendency to be thrown off-balance by even minor outside stimuli is something permanent. It is a hard one to accept and bent me over with a sob while walking. It is just the way it is due to such trauma in childhood, so much that even in my 60’s, my psyche will not allow it to surface in order to protect the balance I have achieved.
During the years I spent working as a Psych nurse I knew, “There but for the grace of god go I,” and treated the patients accordingly. If my memories of Danny’s attacks come, I may need that kind of care. And if so, I hope to be treated with the same kindness and gentleness.
I loved my job except for some of the people I worked with. Some people do that kind of work because they are in need of as much help as the patients, and rather than calm them they upset them more. I’ve been victim to such types with colleagues I worked with. But there are still those that help a great deal.
I was especially capable of assessing patients as they came into the ER overnight when the psychiatrists were home in bed, although equally capable when assigned Charge nurse. The doctors I called, still groggy in bed, trusted my judgement whether to admit or not. Knowing deep pain, one recognizes it.
The patients who were admitted were calm, unlike the state they were in when the other nurses brought them up. When a person is treated with compassion and respect when in such pain, they feel relieved and safe, not frightened.
The only trouble for me was during those times when I reviewed records in the ER then did the face to face assessments conducted in the little cubicle was that I had to be focused. I still spent much time far away in my ‘other world.’ I did not learn it was safe to be present until I began meditating a few years later.
I know I have much to be thankful for…and tomorrow is another day.