A long time ago I used to play role playing games. The old fashioned kind with dice and paper, where you would reduce a character and their personality to basic words and numbers. Personalities suddenly became Jungian descriptives. They were easy, throw-away ways to explain the impulses of a characters nature. Because we were so steeped in this game, and so used to the lingo, many of us took to using these descriptions in real life to pinpoint just what sort of person we thought someone was. They were a "architect" nature, or a "deviant".
I was always a "caretaker". And it's true, that's the first impulse I have. My entire life has been defined by being someone who was asked to take care of someone else. I am the oldest, I am female, I am responsible, I am caring and kind. It seems a natural fit. I needed to take care of parents, siblings, friends, it is a natural expression of the empathy and compassion that I have, trying to take care of others, to make them feel better.
But it is also a hamper as well.
As we have established, I am a person who fears rejection. I am a person who is also very lonely. It is hard for me to reach out to others. One of the few ways I have of connecting to people is to be that "caretaker". I want to do something for you, to make things easier for you, or better, because if I do then you will appreciate me, like me, even want me in your life. Being a caretaker is my way of showing others how much I love them and don't take them for granted. I expect that others will see this and respond by loving me back.
This is sadly not the case in my life. Inevitably those I seek to make happiest are those who take the most advantage of me. And in my own, blind, desperate need to be loved and accepted by someone, I pour myself out to these people only to find myself emptied by them. And I grow angry and resentful, and when I start to balk, when I remove that care I once showed, when I refuse to give in to demands, then they tend to walk away. And I realize what a fool I have been, because I have given these people everything, and they have offered nothing that I wanted. And so I am angry with myself for doing this, and I am angry at them for doing this, and then I usually start the slow spin into depression.
It's such a familiar theme in my life, I am surprised I didn't really catch on to it till I was in therapy, but I suppose that's common for many people. We don't recognize our self-destructive behaviors till we are forced by others to recognize what we are doing. Sadly, for myself, I don't know quite what to do with myself in terms of this "caretaker" business. It's what I know, it's instinctual. But it is not all that I am. I am so much more, I am a person who has so many more things to offer than being a simple security blanket. Sadly that's the only way I've been seen by some people I've loved most. I'm caring, and loving, and stable, and safe. But I'm nothing more than than. They don't see the other wonderful parts that make up me, not really.
I'm at a loss as to what to do about this. It has caused me to shut down in the last year, emotionally and socially. I have sort of faded from the lives of many people, and I don't mean to, but I just don't have the emotional capability now to discern whether I am falling into the same old self-destructive patterns as before, or is this a healthy relationship? I just don't know. I know that this behavior is not good either, but there is a part of me that is too bruised and battered to know what to do. And so I hide, because I'm tired of being the caretaker to the world and used horribly for it.
Now you know where some of the anger inside of me comes from.
We all have parts of our nature that are wonderful, and parts that if not used carefully can be destructive. Sometimes it's hard to know when we are being beneficial or self-destructive. I pray for discernment, but I also pray for courage to keep going, because right now I am just too scared. And yet I am lonely too. I pray I can feel safe in reaching out to others again, and hope that I don't put myself in a position where I feel used or rejected.
Prayers and blessings-
JKW
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Screaming without saying a word
My every waking moment is filled with a rage that sucks me down.
Anger is one of the things I am trying to work within therapy. This is one of those issues that many people don't even see about me, the ones who thing that I'm "so put together". And for many I figure this is likely the case. Our society is paradoxical, we love confrontation and then again we don't. What we really love is to argue defensively and tear the other person down. We don't love hearing how that other person is hurting because of something we said or did. I am as guilty of doing that as the next person.
Right now there is so much anger and rage inside of me it hurts, and it isn't healthy. I know it isn't, and this is why I am in therapy. But I breath it everyday, and I want so badly to just rage till it is gone and empty myself. And I realize I can't because I also want to be understood. I want someone to see that they hurt me and to recognize the hurt and apologize. And so far I've yet to experience a single "I'm sorry, you know what I was wrong." Sometimes the situation won't get better, but sometimes you need to let out all the hurt and anger and not feel that in doing so you will be slapped back down.
I tried this last summer to confront someone who means the world to me. This person many years ago hurt me in what perhaps was the initial crack that would lead to me breaking to the point I am at now. I confronted them because I needed to. I needed to lash out, to get it out, like puss from a wound. I needed to cry and scream and shout at the heavens. What I got was an email, because that was the only way I could reach them. My therapist suggested it, and so I did it, no holds barred, full of all the swearing and virulence that I felt. I had been warned that I wouldn't get the response I wanted. I suppose I hadn't expected the response I got. That letter hurt almost as much as what this person did. It hurt because it showed that in the end they didn't care about how I felt or what I had to say. In the end all that mattered was that they felt they were right.
Nothing makes you feel more small than knowing that you aren't being heard. And I have to admit I don't think once in my life I ever have, not when it matters most. It's strange, I realize even with everyday people how often they don't really listen to me or pay attention to the tiny things. And when it is you spilling your guts out to someone, begging for them to understand the pain you are in, the pain they have or are causing, to have that sort of response is nothing short of shattering.
There is another person who perhaps is the other major component for why I am in the shattered, emotional state I am in right now. This person is almost as clueless as the first, except this person does have a bit more of an inkling about the damage they have caused. Except their damage is much more fresh, more raw, more traumatic. And I can't even begin to vent to them my anger, because the minute I do righteous indignation comes into play. My words are lost because they are so busy defending themseves they aren't listening to what I am saying. I am drowning in fury over here, it chokes me most days, and I can't make them understand how badly I both love them and hate them for breaking me to this point and not even caring.
Another post, I'll discuss my tendency to care take those I care for and how this exacerbates this rage problem, because really it is all a vicious cycle. But for right now I sit here, raging quietly, wondering if I should have a good cry since my head already hurts, or if I should just go to sleep and shove it away as I always do. There will be one day when I will figure out what to do with all of this anger and understand what to do with it. Perhaps prayer, perhaps a tantrum...you know there are days that the song "Bust the Windows Outcha Car" really resonates, but I don't think I have enough destructive tendencies to manage that one.
Anyway, prayers for me as I deal with this and figure out what I can do to resolve the anger in a healthy manner.
Peace and blessings-
JKW
Anger is one of the things I am trying to work within therapy. This is one of those issues that many people don't even see about me, the ones who thing that I'm "so put together". And for many I figure this is likely the case. Our society is paradoxical, we love confrontation and then again we don't. What we really love is to argue defensively and tear the other person down. We don't love hearing how that other person is hurting because of something we said or did. I am as guilty of doing that as the next person.
Right now there is so much anger and rage inside of me it hurts, and it isn't healthy. I know it isn't, and this is why I am in therapy. But I breath it everyday, and I want so badly to just rage till it is gone and empty myself. And I realize I can't because I also want to be understood. I want someone to see that they hurt me and to recognize the hurt and apologize. And so far I've yet to experience a single "I'm sorry, you know what I was wrong." Sometimes the situation won't get better, but sometimes you need to let out all the hurt and anger and not feel that in doing so you will be slapped back down.
I tried this last summer to confront someone who means the world to me. This person many years ago hurt me in what perhaps was the initial crack that would lead to me breaking to the point I am at now. I confronted them because I needed to. I needed to lash out, to get it out, like puss from a wound. I needed to cry and scream and shout at the heavens. What I got was an email, because that was the only way I could reach them. My therapist suggested it, and so I did it, no holds barred, full of all the swearing and virulence that I felt. I had been warned that I wouldn't get the response I wanted. I suppose I hadn't expected the response I got. That letter hurt almost as much as what this person did. It hurt because it showed that in the end they didn't care about how I felt or what I had to say. In the end all that mattered was that they felt they were right.
Nothing makes you feel more small than knowing that you aren't being heard. And I have to admit I don't think once in my life I ever have, not when it matters most. It's strange, I realize even with everyday people how often they don't really listen to me or pay attention to the tiny things. And when it is you spilling your guts out to someone, begging for them to understand the pain you are in, the pain they have or are causing, to have that sort of response is nothing short of shattering.
There is another person who perhaps is the other major component for why I am in the shattered, emotional state I am in right now. This person is almost as clueless as the first, except this person does have a bit more of an inkling about the damage they have caused. Except their damage is much more fresh, more raw, more traumatic. And I can't even begin to vent to them my anger, because the minute I do righteous indignation comes into play. My words are lost because they are so busy defending themseves they aren't listening to what I am saying. I am drowning in fury over here, it chokes me most days, and I can't make them understand how badly I both love them and hate them for breaking me to this point and not even caring.
Another post, I'll discuss my tendency to care take those I care for and how this exacerbates this rage problem, because really it is all a vicious cycle. But for right now I sit here, raging quietly, wondering if I should have a good cry since my head already hurts, or if I should just go to sleep and shove it away as I always do. There will be one day when I will figure out what to do with all of this anger and understand what to do with it. Perhaps prayer, perhaps a tantrum...you know there are days that the song "Bust the Windows Outcha Car" really resonates, but I don't think I have enough destructive tendencies to manage that one.
Anyway, prayers for me as I deal with this and figure out what I can do to resolve the anger in a healthy manner.
Peace and blessings-
JKW
Monday, January 16, 2012
Boundaries
Boundaries are not something I am good at. I should correct that, in geography I am amazing at them. In my lifetime I have seen the boundaries of the world shift and change in unparalleled ways. I can tell you what the extremes of the Roman Empire was at its height, why there is a Virginia and a West Virginia, and where the former country known as Yugoslavia existed. I'm amazing at the imaginary boundaries humans put up to define their land from that belonging to others.
I am less capable when it comes to boundaries in my own life.
To understand this in my journey of self-discovery, you have to understand one basic flaw in the broken nature that is Beshter...I fear rejection more than I fear anything else. Perhaps more than I fear being alone, which is it's close cousin in the fear department. I fear that idea of being told that you are unworthy. It's a common feeling in my life, feeling that I am not wanted, not needed, not appreciated, not valued...not loved. I can't say there is an exact reason for this, like my parents not loving me, (which they did), or that I was told I was worthless, (which I never was). I've scryed long and hard into my past and looked for reasons for why this idea is in my head. And short of the cruelty of childhood which all of us face, I can't really pin it down. And like as not that is the reason, the rejection of my peers did make for a rather lonely childhood and an hellish junior high. Hell, high school wasn't a picnic either, I was often lonely, though I can say high school got better as the years went along. It wasn't till college that I had a group of friends I felt totally secure in, that I didn't fear rejection from. To this day I think this is why I still look to them as my safe haven, because I know no matter how stupid my life gets they are always there and always love me. Sometimes I'm more confident in them than I am my own family.
Perhaps not Mom and Dad...
This fear of rejection has only gotten worse over the years, particularly with failed romances and broken hearts, and throw in a back stabbing friend or two. It happens to all of us, but in my mind it has turned it into a crippling fear. I expect that people will hate me, dislike me, or dismiss me, so I do anything and everything to make them not want to do that. And that includes throwing boundaries right out the window. If I set up boundaries, my brain reasons, then they will get upset once I say "no", and then will leave me for someone else. If I don't set down boundaries then they will stay, and hopefully they will see all the wonderful things I have to give.
The truth is that never works, but I can't seem to shake myself of this habit.
It's hard to wrestle with something that is so engrained in you, to do something you never have done. I realize, in a logical manner, that boundaries are good for a person. You shouldn't allow people to walk all over you. And this is not to say I don't utilize them from time to time. There are moments in my life when the push back from those in my life is so great I say "no", and I refuse to budge. And invariably every single one of those times has lead to some sort of ultimate break, a moment when they realized that I wasn't what they want or wasn't the person they needed in their life, or what have you. And this seems to play out my fear that setting boundaries costs me my relationships rather. But in therapy this last year, and in thinking, I have come to realize that perhaps I am understanding this situation all wrong. I don't think that in the end it is these boundaries that I put up that drive these people away, rather it is the fact I never set them up to begin with. And when I am finally pushed to a place I throw them up, people are confused. Why is it Beshter is acting like this, she never had a complaint before? It never occurs to them that the complaint was always there because I never voiced it.
I never set up the boundary, and thus they assumed that it was okay. And usually it really wasn't.
I don't know if I can set up boundaries yet. There are some I am struggling with putting into place. There are others I am better at putting out there. I can say no to tutoring gigs I have no time for, or events I can't go to because they conflict with responsibilities. I can even say no to people I really don't want to deal with and have always been too afraid of being mean to to say no. But there are others who I still have trouble with. There are other situations in my life that I have yet to work out how to put parameters on. And I seethe against it, but I also know it's my own making. And I am still trying to figure out how to say "no". I hope I can figure it out soon. Because I'm not starting to figure out that I am a person who is far more worthy of a person than to be treated the way I have been by some people.
I'm still working on boundaries. I may be a whiz at on a geography quiz, but I'm a mess in my own life. It is a work in progress, like everything else about me.
Peace and blessings-
-JKW
I am less capable when it comes to boundaries in my own life.
To understand this in my journey of self-discovery, you have to understand one basic flaw in the broken nature that is Beshter...I fear rejection more than I fear anything else. Perhaps more than I fear being alone, which is it's close cousin in the fear department. I fear that idea of being told that you are unworthy. It's a common feeling in my life, feeling that I am not wanted, not needed, not appreciated, not valued...not loved. I can't say there is an exact reason for this, like my parents not loving me, (which they did), or that I was told I was worthless, (which I never was). I've scryed long and hard into my past and looked for reasons for why this idea is in my head. And short of the cruelty of childhood which all of us face, I can't really pin it down. And like as not that is the reason, the rejection of my peers did make for a rather lonely childhood and an hellish junior high. Hell, high school wasn't a picnic either, I was often lonely, though I can say high school got better as the years went along. It wasn't till college that I had a group of friends I felt totally secure in, that I didn't fear rejection from. To this day I think this is why I still look to them as my safe haven, because I know no matter how stupid my life gets they are always there and always love me. Sometimes I'm more confident in them than I am my own family.
Perhaps not Mom and Dad...
This fear of rejection has only gotten worse over the years, particularly with failed romances and broken hearts, and throw in a back stabbing friend or two. It happens to all of us, but in my mind it has turned it into a crippling fear. I expect that people will hate me, dislike me, or dismiss me, so I do anything and everything to make them not want to do that. And that includes throwing boundaries right out the window. If I set up boundaries, my brain reasons, then they will get upset once I say "no", and then will leave me for someone else. If I don't set down boundaries then they will stay, and hopefully they will see all the wonderful things I have to give.
The truth is that never works, but I can't seem to shake myself of this habit.
It's hard to wrestle with something that is so engrained in you, to do something you never have done. I realize, in a logical manner, that boundaries are good for a person. You shouldn't allow people to walk all over you. And this is not to say I don't utilize them from time to time. There are moments in my life when the push back from those in my life is so great I say "no", and I refuse to budge. And invariably every single one of those times has lead to some sort of ultimate break, a moment when they realized that I wasn't what they want or wasn't the person they needed in their life, or what have you. And this seems to play out my fear that setting boundaries costs me my relationships rather. But in therapy this last year, and in thinking, I have come to realize that perhaps I am understanding this situation all wrong. I don't think that in the end it is these boundaries that I put up that drive these people away, rather it is the fact I never set them up to begin with. And when I am finally pushed to a place I throw them up, people are confused. Why is it Beshter is acting like this, she never had a complaint before? It never occurs to them that the complaint was always there because I never voiced it.
I never set up the boundary, and thus they assumed that it was okay. And usually it really wasn't.
I don't know if I can set up boundaries yet. There are some I am struggling with putting into place. There are others I am better at putting out there. I can say no to tutoring gigs I have no time for, or events I can't go to because they conflict with responsibilities. I can even say no to people I really don't want to deal with and have always been too afraid of being mean to to say no. But there are others who I still have trouble with. There are other situations in my life that I have yet to work out how to put parameters on. And I seethe against it, but I also know it's my own making. And I am still trying to figure out how to say "no". I hope I can figure it out soon. Because I'm not starting to figure out that I am a person who is far more worthy of a person than to be treated the way I have been by some people.
I'm still working on boundaries. I may be a whiz at on a geography quiz, but I'm a mess in my own life. It is a work in progress, like everything else about me.
Peace and blessings-
-JKW
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Welcome and greetings
I am starting this blog for many reasons, but I think the biggest reason I am doing it is because I am broken, hence the title.
We all are a little bit broken, every one of us. Life has a tendency to chip away at all of us, breaking and flaking off pieces of ourselves, and it is only when things get to their breaking point we realize how much of us has been lost in the onslaught. For some of us the damage is minor. For others the brokeness is so profound it may never heal. I for one don't know for sure what I am. I would like to think I am fixable, and some days I think I am. A lot of days I am not so sure.
I wanted to write this blog primarily because of my therapy. I wanted to use a blog as a forum to think through the things that I troll through in my sessions, but felt it was too self-focused. Who wants to read how I have issues with life? But I shared with someone recently that I was indeed in therapy, (I am quite open about it), and they were shocked. Their response was to say, "But you are so put together, I would never have thought you of all people need therapy."
Why wouldn't I? I'm human, just like everyone else. And it occurred to me this person thought that therapy was only for those people who were truly a mess, those who were knocking on the door to the madhouse. I don't have scars on my wrists, or track marks on my arms, I don't come from an abusive home and my parents loved me, obviously this means I am a sane and rational person. I cringed at the idea, because I've known many a person who came from a totally "normal" home and they were very pained human beings, and I've seen people who came from debilitating backgrounds rise up with a strength I don't possess. Emotional and mental hurt doesn't pick a particular type of person. It just happens. And while I may seem put together, I hurt, like everyone does. So this is a blog that will trace through some of that hurt. And perhaps, maybe, my experiences will speak to someone else, and maybe help them through some of their troubles as well.
As to who I am, that will come out through my story I guess. But to anyone who looks at me I'm utterly boring, (save for the red hair...very vain about that). I am thirty-four, I'm a graduate student at a Christian seminary in Pasadena, California. I am finishing two masters degrees in theology and attempting, (and might fail at), getting into a PhD program for history. My family lives in Missouri, so I am rather alone out here. I have a roommate, two cats, a car that is often cranky, a computer named for Scully's dog on X-files, a passion for the game Assassin's Creed, a love of cooking, travel, and I'm mad about all things Roman.
As for the rest of it, that will come out in time.
I don't know where this blog will lead me, and I will try to be as honest as I can in it. It might hurt some people who read it, especially if you are involved, and for that I'm sorry. I won't use real names for that reason. But I hope this helps me as I wrestle with the issues I am dealing with, and maybe it will help someone else.
Peace and rest-
JKW
We all are a little bit broken, every one of us. Life has a tendency to chip away at all of us, breaking and flaking off pieces of ourselves, and it is only when things get to their breaking point we realize how much of us has been lost in the onslaught. For some of us the damage is minor. For others the brokeness is so profound it may never heal. I for one don't know for sure what I am. I would like to think I am fixable, and some days I think I am. A lot of days I am not so sure.
I wanted to write this blog primarily because of my therapy. I wanted to use a blog as a forum to think through the things that I troll through in my sessions, but felt it was too self-focused. Who wants to read how I have issues with life? But I shared with someone recently that I was indeed in therapy, (I am quite open about it), and they were shocked. Their response was to say, "But you are so put together, I would never have thought you of all people need therapy."
Why wouldn't I? I'm human, just like everyone else. And it occurred to me this person thought that therapy was only for those people who were truly a mess, those who were knocking on the door to the madhouse. I don't have scars on my wrists, or track marks on my arms, I don't come from an abusive home and my parents loved me, obviously this means I am a sane and rational person. I cringed at the idea, because I've known many a person who came from a totally "normal" home and they were very pained human beings, and I've seen people who came from debilitating backgrounds rise up with a strength I don't possess. Emotional and mental hurt doesn't pick a particular type of person. It just happens. And while I may seem put together, I hurt, like everyone does. So this is a blog that will trace through some of that hurt. And perhaps, maybe, my experiences will speak to someone else, and maybe help them through some of their troubles as well.
As to who I am, that will come out through my story I guess. But to anyone who looks at me I'm utterly boring, (save for the red hair...very vain about that). I am thirty-four, I'm a graduate student at a Christian seminary in Pasadena, California. I am finishing two masters degrees in theology and attempting, (and might fail at), getting into a PhD program for history. My family lives in Missouri, so I am rather alone out here. I have a roommate, two cats, a car that is often cranky, a computer named for Scully's dog on X-files, a passion for the game Assassin's Creed, a love of cooking, travel, and I'm mad about all things Roman.
As for the rest of it, that will come out in time.
I don't know where this blog will lead me, and I will try to be as honest as I can in it. It might hurt some people who read it, especially if you are involved, and for that I'm sorry. I won't use real names for that reason. But I hope this helps me as I wrestle with the issues I am dealing with, and maybe it will help someone else.
Peace and rest-
JKW
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