A sweet little paper box I bought from another vendor at a craft show last year. I wonder what wonderful surprise could be waiting inside.
I could feel myself resisting this topic all day. Partly because I wasn't sure how to start, or how to organize the jumble of thoughts in my head ... and partly because the topic brings up 'stuff.' So I got busy doing things (laundry, grocery shopping, post office, etc.) which did have to be done, but I also ate to distract myself (and could see it happening, but kept on going), and I went to the bookstore and the library (which didn't have to be done, but was fun).
I decided maybe the best place to begin is a couple of weeks ago. I had checked out Geneen Roth's Breaking Free from Compulsive Eating (which may be what is now published as, Breaking Free from Emotional Eating), and it was due back the next day. There were no renewals because it was an interlibrary loan from another NJ library. I knew it had to go back, so I took a few minutes to browse through it ... long enough to determine that it's a book I want to own. And, I came away realizing (grudgingly) that there probably is some connection between my weight challenges and residual trauma from past events.
The reason I've been slow to acknowledge this connection is because, well, I feel like I've worked on my 'stuff' ad nauseum over the years. I've done therapy for brief periods at various times; Rubenfeld Synergy, which combines bodywork and talk therapy; journaling, journaling, and more journaling; meditation and spiritual retreats; professional coach training for two years, which, while not therapy, does make you look at your issues and blocks; and various workshops, including The Journey Process ... all of which did help, to varying degrees. Enough so that I don't go through my days feeling traumatized by the past ... a past that -- although I'd have to admit it's certainly taken a lot out of my hide, emotionally speaking -- really wasn't any more difficult or traumatic than anybody else's, I don't think.
The morning after I browsed the book, I woke up very early. I didn't want to get up just yet, so I stayed warm between the flannel sheets, half asleep, half awake. I started thinking about the message in the book and wondered what things, events, feelings, losses -- specifically -- might still operating subconsciously and thwarting my conscious efforts to achieve certain goals. In other words, what things have I never really gotten over yet?
And the flood came. Memories, mostly, and emotion. Old hurts, regrets, failures, even what seem like inane and random things ... things I'm sure I've put behind me ... except that from time to time I can feel how very close they are to the surface, just ready to spring forth at the slightest trigger. And, frustration doesn't even begin to describe how I feel about that, after all the 'work' I've done on myself.
Some are things I wouldn't share in a public forum such as this, but here's an example of what I mean ... an event that happened so long ago, yet feels as fresh emotionally as the day it happened.
When I was about nine or ten, and we had been living in the U.S. a year or two, my mother got a letter from Spain informing her that one of her brothers ... the baby in a family of 11 children ... had died a few weeks before. He had drowned in a rough ocean after a wave knocked him off a jetty.
Some time shortly after that, I remember that my mother started seeing a 'doctor.' The doctor was a woman from Argentina, who spoke Spanish ... a psychiatrist. I'm not sure that I even knew what that was at my age. I just knew she went to see her every week or two.
One time, for some logistical reason, she had to take me with her. I remember she picked me up after school and we took the bus into White Plains (NY) and walked the rest of the way to the doctor's office. My mother told me to stay in the waiting room and read while she spoke to the doctor. So, I entertained myself with a book, sitting on a couch that backed up to the wall separating me from them.
I could hear their voices throughout the session, but couldn't hear what they were saying ... just conversation going back and forth. And then the conversation stopped, and I heard my mother crying. And it totally broke my heart. I mean, almost literally ... it was such a strong feeling. And I can feel those same emotions (and tears) right now as if it was yesterday. I remember thinking at the time that it must be wonderful to be someone who could take someone's pain away, like the doctor ... and that I wanted to do that someday, because knowing someone was suffering -- especially someone I loved -- was just unbearable to me. That's my earliest memory of a career aspiration.
That's just one example of something that was painful that I've never really gotten over, I guess ... otherwise the memories wouldn't have such a strong 'charge' still. I can't figure out why they do, really. It's not that big a deal, right?
So, I'm lying in bed that morning not long ago, making a mental list of all the stuff I've 'never really gotten over.' And I notice the list is not short ... that my mind keeps coming up with more. And I notice the overriding emotions are: grief, anger, some regret, some shame ... but mostly grief and sadness. I tell myself I need to write the list down and figure out what else I need to do to, still, to work through it. One thing I haven't done yet with all this, I realized, is make art. The idea appeals to me and frightens me in equal measures, because it's something unlike all the other approaches I've taken in the past. The thing is, I'm totally puzzled about how to take a specific event and express it in the abstract, visually, while completing the residual healing. Tall order.
So, I got up, I went on about my day, and the next ... and I didn't make that list, though it's still rattling around in my head.
And that was what was present for me as I went through the day Monday, when I wrote the post about the 9/11 memorial at the library, and the couple having their cat put to sleep at the vet's. I was feeling emotional and raw.
The comments I got on that post really struck a chord, though, and the references to the blessing/curse of being a sensitive and empathic person made me think of The Highly Sensitive Person for some reason, even though I'd never read it. But, I looked it up that morning, and there it was as a free audio download from the library.
I have only listened to about half of it (it's more than nine hours long), so there is a lot more to go, but it made my ears perk up in recognition right away. And the thing was, she wasn't using the term 'sensitive' to mean 'emotional' ... which is what I had assumed it was going to be ... but to how sensory information is processed by the body ... and how some people's nervous systems and physiologies are just naturally more 'sensitive' than others ... which leads to 'overstimulation.' These people are affected more deeply by things than others would be ... including images, sounds, smells, feelings, etc. And this heightened awareness not only makes them feel overwhelmed and drained more easily than most people, but can also make them feel strongly attuned to other people's moods, for example, like I did with my mother that day.
As I listened to the audiobook, it felt a bit like a Rubik's cube being worked in my head, with little pieces clicking into place. My mind kept going, 'OH, that's why!' As in ...
- OH, that's why I froze in front of the whole school during the 5th grade spelling bee, on a fairly easy word as I recall. My 10-year-old body was on overwhelm, and I short-circuited. So, even though I was really an excellent speller, and a very bright kid, I thought I was really stupid after that, and felt totally humiliated.
- OH, that's why I was so sickly when I was young ... picking up every illness like it was going out of style ... until I almost died from pneumonia as a toddler ... because my body was like a sponge. Being sickly left me extremely skinny ... something for which I was teased afterward (and for which my parents were teased, too).
- OH, that's why I've had such bad dreams all my life ... not just as an adult, but as a child ... with no explanation, I thought, other than the possibility that I was completely warped. And why I've had 'sleep' trouble practically all my life. The author mentions bad dreams/nightmares and sleep disturbances as something that is common among HSPs.
- OH, that's why I've been so prone to motion sickness all my life ... not being able to go on carnival rides, or ride in the back seat of cars, or even take the school bus when we moved to the U.S.
- OH, that's why when I go into NYC (which is rare for me), I come home totally drained, and feel so upset about the homeless, and the filth, and the noise, and the chaos. And why you could never pay me enough to live in a place like New York.
- OH, that's why when a guy told me a hard-luck story (you name 'em, I've heard 'em), I fell for them hook line and sinker and felt compelled to take away their pain. And why so many (okay, all except John) have been like soap operas ... just ask my girlfriends; they know all too well.
- OH, that's why people have told me I have 'an intense inner life,' (and they didn't mean it in a good way). HSPs DO have a rich inner life that seems foreign to a lot of other people.
- OH, that's why when other people (work colleages, etc.) are ready to go out and celebrate after a project is over, all I want to do is go home and veg out, or sleep because I'm so exhausted. This, of course, has always made me feel like a freak, or the world's most boring person, even though I AM NEVER, EVER BORED!
- OH, that's why I've gravitated toward the type of work and career that I have, because being 'self-employed in a creative career' is apparently a good fit for HSPs. Who knew?
- OH, that's why I absolutely can't watch violent shows or movies, and why 'traumatic' images I see (or create in my own mind when I hear of traumatic stories) seem to stay with me forever.
- OH, maybe that's even why I find mammograms so friggin' painful (while others don't seem to), or why the roots of my teeth 'shrunk' while I had braces (from the trauma of being moved too suddenly), leaving me with loose teeth now ... and why I feel so upset about it.
On and on and on (oh yes, there's much more). And this is just from listening to half of the book while I worked, and not even reading the book or doing any of the exercises she suggests (like 'reframing' some childhood experiences with a process she describes in the book, for example).
Granted, I am probably throwing some things under this umbrella that could have nothing to do with being 'highly sensitive,' and could easily be explained in other ways ... but seeing a consistent pattern throughout my life that fits with so much of what she's saying is really making me sit up and take notice.
So, what's the outcome of all this? What does this 'aha' have to do with anything? Well, I'm just scratching the surface, of course, but I see a few things: (a) it gives me greater understanding of myself, which (b) makes me (or can make me) less judgmental and critical of myself about things like messing up at the spelling bee, or not being in love with NYC, like 'everyone else' seems to be, or not 'getting over' things as quickly as other people seem to.
Also, I think a big point of it is being more aware of the signals I get from my body and not just ignoring them ... like needing rest, or down time, and being okay with that, instead of forcing myself to do more. I've gotten much better about this over the years, but I still feel self-critical about it. And most of all, I think it's about seeing my sensitivity as an asset instead of a flaw ... and using and enjoying the 'intuition' that comes with this package.
Whew! And now I'm exhausted. Not really ... probably 'overstimulated' and keyed up is more like it ... which means I'll most likely have trouble falling asleep. Tomorrow is when I'll feel exhausted. :-)
Sorry for this very long post. I promise a short one tomorrow ... and more on this topic in future posts, I'm sure.
