I have always been one of those people who wears their heart on their sleeve. Hiding emotions has never been my strong point. You can always tell when I am upset. Until recently.
These past twelve months have changed me. I can honestly say I am not the person I was a year ago. I used to need to talk about everything. Find meaning in everything. I had expectations for what I thought life would serve me. Now? Not so much. Now I know what it means to be broken. What it means to be disappointed and gutted and beaten up. I know pain. I know the feeling of wishing for something so hard it hurts only to find out it won't happen. I know how to cry. I know how to yell and thrash and grieve. My story is unique but I am not alone. There are a lot of people who know those feelings too- they have been disappointed by life and have hurt and seen pain. I realize that it is part of life now.
What I didn't anticipate was how it would change me. To say the least I have taken my heart off my sleeve. When I did so I did it on a day I didn't even anticipate I would do it. Yes, I have had news recently that sent shock waves through my system. And I reacted like the old me at first. Crying, talking the whole thing through, running through scenario after scenario trying to control it. Letting life be consumed by it.
But then I woke up one day and felt numb. That heart that had always had such a starring role on my sleeve was now quiet. When I looked down at it I was shocked to see that it was suddenly covered in steel.
Perhaps I had reached my breaking point. Subconsciously I had realized I was in system self-destruct and my mind had covered my heart in a hard shell overnight in defense. It felt good. For once I felt strong. I felt impervious to myself and my worries. I walked harder. I spoke louder. I felt a different person take over to take care of me. I liked her. She was functional and rational. She stifled pain and rode it out like some bad cough syrup you have to take to get a good night's sleep. Swallowed it down even though it tasted sour and bitter the whole way. Overnight a different person had taken over inside me. I shifted into some sort of auto-pilot, except this auto pilot was a foreign being. I had never met her before. Had she been there all along? Watching and waiting for the almost-tipping-point to take the wheel of my senses?
At first, she scared me a little. Was this just some sort of delirium I would wake up from and suddenly be a blubbering, anxiety-ridden mess all over again? But I let her do her thing for a while. She seemed to be sticking around. Three days turned into a week. A week into two... two is almost a month.
I remember praying when I felt like I had hit a wall that I needed someone to help me. Never had I needed a "substitute Bethany" to step in more and fill in for me more than I did almost a month ago. And a couple days later, when it felt like I was going to lose all control of myself- there she was. The one with the steel heart. She's angry. She's fearless. And she ran out of shits to give a looonnnnggg time ago.
If she were a Native American maybe that'd be her name- Girl with the Steel Heart. Or even better, it could be the name of some novel or even a corny memoir. But it's true. Bethany Blubber-girl with her heart on her sleeve suddenly woke up and her heart was no longer operating- someone or something had covered it in non-corrosive metal.
For now, it works. For now it's nice not to feel. It's nice to walk down the street and know that nothing can hurt me. You can't break me anymore- I am already in pieces. It adds an element of fearlessness to my life. Hate me? Good. Don't care. Disappointing news? Ha! I'm used to it!
Of course I know it can always get worse. And yes, there are things that could happen that would hurt ten times worse than what I am currently dealing with. But I must say, you don't worry about fire when your house has already burned down. And not to worry, for me, it's a freaking relief.
So for the time being I am going to let Steel-Heart ride this wave out for me. If it turns out that my heart is forever covered then so be it. But if life hands me a key to unlock it eventually, I will gladly accept. For now though, don't look on my sleeve anymore to find out how I am. My new substitute self is too busy walking harder and speaking louder to show it.
Pecking Hen ~Pecking since 1982~
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
Friday, April 5, 2013
"Catastrophic Thinking" is Going to Kill my Marathon Time
Let me begin by saying that NO, I am not running a marathon in the literal sense. Those that know me know that I am allergic to long distance running. But I am facing a challenge equally if not more daunting.
Okay so how to be socially tactful about this... How to communicate the news I got without actually revealing too much...
Well, I got some VERY disheartening news the other day in the form of test results. Disheartening is probably not a proper word to describe the news...I got news that basically said my plans for my future will range from somewhat challenging to perhaps impossible. That's a big range but that's where I'm at. Potential surgeries, treatments, the whole works.
I am trying to be lighthearted in my description or you, as the reader, would think I was throwing myself a pity party. Well, I have been but I won't do it here. The fact is this news warrants a good pity party, a complete meltdown if you want the truth, but at this point my whole point of writing this is to express my pure confusion and panic in this situation.
Once again I find myself in a situation where there is no script. By now, you've probably determined that I have a big issue with that. Not just a big issue, a complete complex. If there's no "script" to follow, I start to resemble a dancing circus bear- rotating on a podium in a tutu repeatedly. Wait, what?...
What I mean is, I start to ruminate and fixate on my issues, having no real direction, until I have "flow-mapped" every possible scenario in a fruitless attempt to control it.
And at this point I am still in the tutu. No matter how many flow-map scenarios I come up with I am still left in such an ambiguous and scary situation. I am so uncomfortable with the "unknown" that it makes my already dire situation that much worse. And all my hypothetical analysis has led me to what my friend (hey Louisa) termed "Catastrophic Thinking."
Defined, "catastrophic thinking" is where you take a situation and immediately revert to the "worst case scenario" and determine that it is already in the works. It is the most pessimistic, negative thinking a person can do, and I have been in the thick of it for 3 days. I have already prepared myself for the "let's face it it could happen" result of me being a childless, divorced cat lady living in a card board box down by the river. My only solace is that I would still have my kindle- I can't survive without my kindle.
And like I said, it could happen. But there are other things that could happen too- a comet could hit the earth and destroy Baltimore. I could contract SARS and have to be quarantined in a government hospital. The government could outlaw Outback cheese fries- they're that good. And while all of these situations are examples of inane and ridiculous, or rather, unlikely, situations, my predicament is indeed "bad enough" to warrant ridiculous thinking. What I mean is, my "worst-case scenario" has a better chance of happening than those above.
I used this when trying to defend my ruminations and pity-parties. I was then told that I was making the "in-between" period that much worse by negative thoughts. That I was acting like they were already written in the books, when they weren't. That although, yes, I have had horrible luck so far, it didn't mean for sure it would continue....
Touche...
I am basically at a point where I need to re-train my brain away from the "worst-case scenario." I guess I feel like if I prepare myself for the worst, it won't hurt as much if it happens. There is a part of me that sees value to that. However, I then realize that when the worst-case scenarios did happen in my life, they hurt just as bad. No amount of preparation can ease the pain of life's punches. Building a bunker in my basement full of "end-of-the-world" supplies would not ease the disappointment that the world actually ended, so what was I doing?
I see the error of my ways but it doesn't make it any easier to stop myself when I allow my mind to torture me. I have to remind myself that it isn't often that a person gets news of this nature and that I am warranted worry and grief. I just need to be aware of the damage I am doing to my psyche and my spirit while I wait for events to unfold.
Many people say to "trust God" that things will work out as they are supposed to. And I am trying. It is harder when God's plans don't fall in my "flow map." And I know I shouldn't expect them to. God knows I have heard of many people" having it harder" than I currently do. But heartache is heartache, no matter the circumstances.
I need to prepare my heart for a long haul and build myself up to be ready for what will unfold. It is hard when you think you have reached the last mile of the race and realize you have many, many more still to run. The times when all the stereotypical coaches out there would tell me to "dig deep." Never has that advice meant more. I will have to dig very deeply here. My legs and lungs may be tired from the race so far but if I plan to cross the finish line I need to dig deeper to find my wind to make it. And while I do that I have to realize that the catastrophic thinking I tend to do is only hindering my stride.
At this point I just have to hope that instead of 25 more miles to go in this marathon, I only have a couple more...I can't think of the finish line until I see it. In the meantime I just need to focus on my breathing, my stride and making it that next quarter mile...
Okay so how to be socially tactful about this... How to communicate the news I got without actually revealing too much...
Well, I got some VERY disheartening news the other day in the form of test results. Disheartening is probably not a proper word to describe the news...I got news that basically said my plans for my future will range from somewhat challenging to perhaps impossible. That's a big range but that's where I'm at. Potential surgeries, treatments, the whole works.
I am trying to be lighthearted in my description or you, as the reader, would think I was throwing myself a pity party. Well, I have been but I won't do it here. The fact is this news warrants a good pity party, a complete meltdown if you want the truth, but at this point my whole point of writing this is to express my pure confusion and panic in this situation.
Once again I find myself in a situation where there is no script. By now, you've probably determined that I have a big issue with that. Not just a big issue, a complete complex. If there's no "script" to follow, I start to resemble a dancing circus bear- rotating on a podium in a tutu repeatedly. Wait, what?...
What I mean is, I start to ruminate and fixate on my issues, having no real direction, until I have "flow-mapped" every possible scenario in a fruitless attempt to control it.
And at this point I am still in the tutu. No matter how many flow-map scenarios I come up with I am still left in such an ambiguous and scary situation. I am so uncomfortable with the "unknown" that it makes my already dire situation that much worse. And all my hypothetical analysis has led me to what my friend (hey Louisa) termed "Catastrophic Thinking."
Defined, "catastrophic thinking" is where you take a situation and immediately revert to the "worst case scenario" and determine that it is already in the works. It is the most pessimistic, negative thinking a person can do, and I have been in the thick of it for 3 days. I have already prepared myself for the "let's face it it could happen" result of me being a childless, divorced cat lady living in a card board box down by the river. My only solace is that I would still have my kindle- I can't survive without my kindle.
And like I said, it could happen. But there are other things that could happen too- a comet could hit the earth and destroy Baltimore. I could contract SARS and have to be quarantined in a government hospital. The government could outlaw Outback cheese fries- they're that good. And while all of these situations are examples of inane and ridiculous, or rather, unlikely, situations, my predicament is indeed "bad enough" to warrant ridiculous thinking. What I mean is, my "worst-case scenario" has a better chance of happening than those above.
I used this when trying to defend my ruminations and pity-parties. I was then told that I was making the "in-between" period that much worse by negative thoughts. That I was acting like they were already written in the books, when they weren't. That although, yes, I have had horrible luck so far, it didn't mean for sure it would continue....
Touche...
I am basically at a point where I need to re-train my brain away from the "worst-case scenario." I guess I feel like if I prepare myself for the worst, it won't hurt as much if it happens. There is a part of me that sees value to that. However, I then realize that when the worst-case scenarios did happen in my life, they hurt just as bad. No amount of preparation can ease the pain of life's punches. Building a bunker in my basement full of "end-of-the-world" supplies would not ease the disappointment that the world actually ended, so what was I doing?
I see the error of my ways but it doesn't make it any easier to stop myself when I allow my mind to torture me. I have to remind myself that it isn't often that a person gets news of this nature and that I am warranted worry and grief. I just need to be aware of the damage I am doing to my psyche and my spirit while I wait for events to unfold.
Many people say to "trust God" that things will work out as they are supposed to. And I am trying. It is harder when God's plans don't fall in my "flow map." And I know I shouldn't expect them to. God knows I have heard of many people" having it harder" than I currently do. But heartache is heartache, no matter the circumstances.
I need to prepare my heart for a long haul and build myself up to be ready for what will unfold. It is hard when you think you have reached the last mile of the race and realize you have many, many more still to run. The times when all the stereotypical coaches out there would tell me to "dig deep." Never has that advice meant more. I will have to dig very deeply here. My legs and lungs may be tired from the race so far but if I plan to cross the finish line I need to dig deeper to find my wind to make it. And while I do that I have to realize that the catastrophic thinking I tend to do is only hindering my stride.
At this point I just have to hope that instead of 25 more miles to go in this marathon, I only have a couple more...I can't think of the finish line until I see it. In the meantime I just need to focus on my breathing, my stride and making it that next quarter mile...
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