I recently had a bit of a realisation into one of my ingrained patterns that I learned as a child and felt the need to write about it. To give some background to understand what I discovered, first it’s necessary for me to skim over what happened to me when I was younger:
At age 9 I graduated from child into adulthood, not because I was ready but because life demanded it. This was the time when my parents split up and due to the perversity of the legal system in Britain at the time (1990) it was decided that my manic depressive father would make a more suitable parent than my now lesbian mother (hence the divorce). The fact I wanted to go with my mother was irrelevant it seems as they never asked me. I was ‘too young’ to make such a decision but not ‘too young’ to take over the role my mother had played now she was gone.
I was responsible for doing the dishes (by hand), sometimes cooking or making packed lunches, doing shopping at the local supermarket, cleaning out the pet cages (we had several budgies, a cockatiel, a rabbit and a guinea pig at the time), taking my younger sister to school and generally keeping the house clean. This was on top of my ever increasing homework load, the hobbies I had such as playing the guitar as well as generally trying to avoid the massive mood swings my father would go through, which would often lead, despite my best efforts, to being shouted at sometimes for hours on end. He would tell me over and over how what I am and do isn’t good enough to meet his high perfectionist standards that even he couldn’t keep. Not to mention that I was suffering from depression and a chronic medical condition that wasn’t diagnosed for another 15 years .
If my father spotted a mistake in anything I did he would have me start over from scratch, sometimes redoing a whole load of dishes when only a few had a little residue left from my first attempt, or keeping me up until 1 or 2 in the morning until I had done my homework to a standard that didn’t reflect badly on him. (My father had in the past taught at the secondary school I went to when I was 11, so I got the impression he felt my presence and progress at the school would be under scrutiny).
It was impossible to do everything he wanted to his standard and within this chaos I had to find ways to cope to keep myself going, as I had no-one to rely on, no-one who could share the burden with me. It wasn’t possible for me at this time to accept I couldn’t do it all, not in a conscious way, I just assumed this was just the way it was so I tried for a long time to be the ‘perfect angel’ (until I reached a point of inner rebellion at least). Looking back I can see what coping mechanisms naturally during this time to help me deal with all this.
Among them were some I have known about for some time, such as when I get shouted at or told off in anyway my mind tends to shut down, my husband calls it ‘going tharn’ where I basically go all wide eyed and can’t think of anything to say even if I have grounds to defend myself with. This allows me to take a mental break, to disassociate from the unbearable reality around me (being shouted at triggers the fight or flight in me) but this has led to in an inability to hold my ground in discussions and get what I need or want.
The other is not so much a coping mechanism but the result of living in this chaotic environment for so long. Because my fathers view was ‘law’, for a long time when I was younger I picked up the habit of always referring to his opinion as my own. If someone would ask me something new I wouldn’t know how to respond, as I would have to ask my Dad about it first (assuming it was a topic safe enough to bring up without it starting a row). Both of these traits led me to the point where it was almost impossible for me to make decisions on my own, as I wasn’t given the space to learn this skill naturally. This is something I have been working on for years now and it still affects me to this day.
So the other thing I picked up that I’ve just discovered was learning how to ‘jugggle’ my impossible work load to make it appear like I was able to do it all to keep my Dad off my back. It’s become clear to me that I have a semi-conscious system for handing all the things I have to do. I have a group of tasks that have to be done on a regular basis by a certain day. These would be juggled along with all the unexpected and one off tasks that come about for one reason or another. I threw all these tasks up in the air knowing full well I was going to drop the ball on most of them and when I had time and energy I would try to recycle through the things I dropped as they became a priority (ie when I got shouted at).
This brought about another habit: when someone brings up something that I’ve neglected that really needs doing (eg one of the balls I had to drop) I jump up immediately to try to fix it. This was the way I had to deal with the fact I had too much on my plate. I did what I could and put out fires as they cropped up. I also realised that I still employ this method to this day, keeping the old wound open in order to deal with a full time job, an exhausting travel schedule, learning a new language, looking after the house, writing, learning new computer skills in my spare time whilst dealing with chronic pain and fatigue. The mechanism was so successful that people often assume I can cope with anything, when actually underneath I often feel like I’m barely keeping it together and any moment the whole illusion will tumble down like a house of cards.
When all this sunk in I realised that I have to start by being honest with myself and to not ignore my pain. It maybe not much can be done staright away, but at least I’m not increasing the problem by ignoring it and stuffing it out of sight, as the effort to do this only increases with time. One of the things I had ‘dropped’ this year was making an appointment with a specialist doctor to try to deal with some of the more severe pain I have on my period.
The nerve pain is so bad I basically have to lie on my back with a pillow under my legs so they can stay bent without putting strain on my legs (if i lie flat it makes the pain around my stomach worse). I have to try and lie there, moving as little as possible, for anything between 6 and 16 hours. If I do move then the pain gets worse and sometimes I can get dizzy or even throw up. Then after the worst of it is over I have low level muscle pain for maybe 12 hours afterwards, along with severe fatigue that can last for days.
However one of the other things I have a tendency to do, related to money and self esteem issues which is a whole other story on it’s own, is dropping my needs and my health, putting them last in the list. I got my specialist referral back in December 2010, but until this week I had not made the appointment, knowing how difficult it is for me to fit them in around everything else without loosing money, time and energy.
When I had my mini revelation, I finally decided to put my health first for once; to stop grinning and bearing it alone. Having finally made the appointment I’m amazed at the relief it has brought, knowing it will be looked at after 17 years of dealing with the pain every month.
I look at all these words I’ve just written and I am amazed at how much emotional stuff can come out of dropping the ball again this week. I had a choice on Tueday between coming straight home and not doing a shop, or a long travel connection after a shop. I wanted to come straight home because my legs were exhausted. I had forgotten that we needed to buy milk and bread as my husband had been without any for the day. When I realised he was facing another day with basically nothing to eat or drink because I couldn’t find the energy to keep that ball up in the air, I went tharn, cried and then finally gave the pain words and let it all out to the man I love. A little nugget of pain surfaced and began to heal. A few days later, once I had more time to digest it (and I renewed my expired refferal) I finally called the doctor to get the help I need. All because I forgot the milk. Funny how life works out isn’t it.
Niamh Brown
http://www.niamhbrown.com
