I've been giving a lot of thought lately to what wellness means to me. Inevitably it has been something of a shock to find my 'take' on the world is actually a mental health conditiion, but at the same time it is how I have always been to some greater or lesser degree. Over the last years of caring for foster, and now an adoptive child, I have learnt how to live my life in a way which puts the needs of the young person first. I have repressed many of my desires to a point where I am not at all sure what I actually want. I am feeling invisble just now - which is something of an anachronism because I am also exercising better self-care at the same time.
One thing I have discovered is that caring for people who hurt has meant that I have lived in a continual state of hyper-vigilance. Now that I am out of the mire of illness and rebuilding by the moment, I have noticed the vigilance pattern is still very strong. Now I am not constantly focused on the needs of another - but 'locked' into the 'beam' of my day-to-day progress (or lack of it). I am working on reducing this with a strong emphasis on mindfulness. I am also trying to be absolutely true to my feelings as they occur. I have begun to express my anger as it appears and not attempt to rationalise it away. I have stopped seeing everybody else's point-of-view at the expense of my own.
Affirming these behavioural changes feels remarkably hard work. My fantasy had always been that if I really did ever come to a time when I could really do what I chose - I would have absolutely no problem grabbing it with both hands! Instead I am genuinely surprised how insecure a having a choice makes me feel. It has helped me see why being involved in a faith community was so important to me for a lomg time as it helped me to avoid making decisions about what I wanted - as I had a set of expectations, conventions and values to embrace. I suspect it is no surprise that I am challenging my priorities and values in the months after my remaining parent's death. I am an orphan - and at last have the potential to become fully an adult. I no longer have to please anyone - although there is much pleasure still to be gained in pleasing some.
The sense of invisibility I feel is disconcerting and I hope will pass. I think it is related to a lack of confidence just now in which parts of me I want to embrace and celebrate and which parts need a good kick up the backside and still know they are loved. I suspect some of the loss of self may be drug induced.
Right now I need to check out some things about myself and get honest feedback. I am going to take a couple of canvases to art therapy on Friday - I want to talk about them - but also find out how I could improve on them next time. I would love to be able to paint alongside my writing and earn my living that way - but I have more confidence tight-rope walking over the River Ness than in that as a possibility!
I am petrified of being humoured and I hate the look in people's eyes when they hear my diagnosis. I know rationally it is mostly ignorance or inexperience - but I can smell the fear and sense the desire to backtrack. I am no longer quite what I seem and I am less reluctant to fit in uncritically in the name of belonging. I guess I am an uneasy companion to have around just now because even when I try, I can't seem to smooth the rough edges between the thought entering my head and leaving my lips. I guess I could say I am much more fully me - the fear now is just how acceptable/valuable is that actually going to be to me - or anyone else?
Jane W-G wrote:
When I loved myself and humanity enough I asked in a gentle whisper if we could discuss just how much we all choose to pretend...or is it just me who wants to belong so strongly?
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