Always Something

 Life has a way of unfolding in ways we don't expect most times. It seems there's "always something" that happens or that surprises us. 

This time, after two and a half years of being so careful, getting vaccines, wearing masks, and washing hands when others were just not wearing their masks or washing hands, it happened.

My husband tested positive for COVID-19. Almost immediately my daughter and I did rapid tests and tested negative. However, it means that because I am in a position of trust, I must also isolate for 14 days to make sure that I have not caught the virus. And if I have, I must reset the clock and start my 14-day isolation. (I know that's not what the current guidelines say, but my daughter is immuno-compromised and so are some of my clients.)

The busy-ness that I noted rising in my office calendar last week is now put on hold as I contact my clients and reschedule their appointments OR offer them a video session instead of in-person. That's okay; I'm prepared for that.  

Life will always throw things, people, and circumstances at us and the best we can do is to accept, live in the moment and the day, and keep our priorities straight. Priority for me right now is looking after myself and my loves at home. It's all good.

Do not pass go

I had an experience on Wednesday of last week (October 17, 2018) and it has taken me quite some time to be able to put that experience - and my feelings about it - into words.

Those of you who know me well, know that for the last few years I have been working toward becoming a counsellor. In the last year, I struggled to find a practicum site in my own province and found nothing that was available, which would accept my university's requirement to have me videotaped while I was in session with a client (so my distance-education professors could see me in action). I ended up looking in a neighbouring province and found a placement there. I therefore moved to that city and leased an apartment, essentially doubling my monthly expenses (and more) with my salary reduced by half so I had sufficient time to spend on my clinical hours.  The practicum, I told people, would last for 8 months, followed by my part-time employment with the agency for another year at least. The plan was set - I was living alone for the first time in my life, and managing. But I was quite homesick, and it took a lot of energy to just function.

Without going into the gory details, of which there are many, the placement didn't work out for quite a number of reasons, and I was "let go" (read: raked over the coals and told to leave and not come back) a little over a week ago. The ordeal took about four and a half hours from start to finish; it was very traumatic and hurtful, and struck to the very core of who I am. I had thought that things were improving after a rough start, so this development blindsided me and left me in shock for days. 

Photo "Sad Woman Sitting Alone In Room" courtesy of
FrameAngel at www.freedigitalphotos.net

I have been pinging around in the stages of grief ever since that day. At the moment, I am bouncing between anger and depression. I know that it will pass, eventually, but going through it is no picnic. The whole experience made me realize that I have never fully addressed my traumatic childhood and its ripple effects in my current life (hypersensitivity, insecurity, fear, suspicion, etc.) If the experience highlighted anything for me, it was that until I can put these issues to rest, I will not be able to fully be present for any future clients I might have. Any hope of resuming my graduate program rests, therefore, on my own mental health, which at the moment is quite frail.

I have spoken with my doctor to ask him to refer me to a psychologist, which he has done. Fortunately, my health care insurance company will pay for 80% of the cost of any sessions I have (up to a certain ceiling amount) - and knowing the depth of my issues, I foresee needing long-term therapy to delve into some of these very difficult traumas from my past as well as their fall-out in my daily life. 

In a major way, I feel like I've gotten a "Go To Jail" card in the Monopoly game of my life (Go Directly To Jail - do not pass Go, do not collect $200). I cannot proceed until I receive my "Get Out Of Jail" card. Until then, I will keep rolling the dice while others progress on their own paths.

I have had a lot of reactions to what happened, some healthy, some not so much. In a sense, I am somewhat grateful that this surfaced before I screwed up with a client or something. 

In another sense, I want the ground to open up and swallow me. Shame is my constant companion. Grief (from losing my future career, quite possibly) crashes over me and I sometimes cannot even breathe, it is so intense. The circumstances of my loss fill my nightmares, attack my character, condemn me for my naivete. Basically, I am keenly aware that I mortgaged my future and locked myself into a planned early retirement to do this, only to fail. True that my supervisor was the worst possible fit for my personality, but that takes none of the pain away.

Everything is an effort, and there is much to do. I have been trying to extricate myself from the life I have built away from my home - putting my apartment on the market again (hopefully sooner than later), cancelling my flight to Alberta that I booked for school, cancelling an order for furniture for my home office, etc. - and coming to terms with having to go back home in disgrace.

One of my close friends in the grad program asked me to tell her what she could do to support me. While her question is a valid (and sweet) one, I honestly don't know what to tell her. I cannot say when (or if) I will resume my graduate program. I told my professor it would be next September; I hope so, but I cannot be sure of that. This experience has shaken me to my roots. It has demolished the core of who I am and made me question everything I thought I was. It is by far the worst thing I have ever had to endure, and that includes losing my daughter five years ago. For that admission, I feel guilty as well, but I have also learned that trauma is cumulative ... which means that the more unresolved trauma you have, the worse it affects you every. single. time. 

I know that a lot of people will judge me for my failure, and for my reaction to it. They will judge me for my choices. They will judge me for my feelings. But I also know that those people do not know what it is like to be me, because they have never lived my life. What I need most from the people who are in my life is understanding, and support, and empathy. I need them to build me up, not kick me when I'm down. I had enough of that - in the last little while - to last six lifetimes. 

I tell you this, my readers, so that if I talk about my journey, whatever form that takes, you will recognize that this is just one more layer of Getting Unwrapped. This is one more (painful as it is) phase in my growing process. And hopefully, someone somewhere will find my raw musings to be helpful. 

I have also learned, over the years, that most people don't want to hear about tough stuff unless someone has already gone through the tough parts and came through to the other side, and can inspire them. I'll be rigorously honest. Right now, I cannot do that. Right now, my spirit is bleeding, and tender, and disfigured. Right now, I am not fit company to be around because I am super-sensitive to what people say ... and especially to what they think about me. I am not able to "bounce back" from this kind of devastation without help. I cannot put on a happy face when everything I am is pulverized, when everything I have built my self-perception on is in question. 

What I can be is genuine. What I can be is open and willing to do what is necessary to rid myself of the things in me that hurt others. What I can be is what I am: broken. In my brokenness, in my vulnerability, I have asked for help from those who are trained to help. I do not expect my friends and family to "fix" me ... but I hope that they will be gracious and understand that I am doing what I can to heal. 

Taking Shape

I think that using some of my saved-up vacation this month has been a godsend as I make the transition into my final year of my Masters degree in counselling. This is the "practicum year" and for me, launching out on this exciting but intense and potentially draining endeavour (because it IS so new) has meant that I have needed to devote more time to self-care in all things. 

Something as little as not opting to sign up for cable has had far-reaching results in my life. As most of you know, I had to move to a different province and leave my family behind while I do my practicum, and so, with a lower salary

Photo "Woman Relaxing With Her
Eyes Closed" is photostock, courtesy
of
www.freedigitalphotos.net

and increased expenses (rent AND mortgage, plus all the other expenses involved in living alone), I have had to make certain sacrifices and cable was one of them.  Yet, I can see that I now have more time to devote to feeding my spirit with positive, encouraging music in the mornings, and I have found that I have been dividing the extra time from being on vacation (AND not watching television) between spending a little extra time at my practicum site, and putting on the finishing touches to my apartment, while slowly ridding myself of the piles and piles of boxes, bags and Styrofoam inserts that have been cluttering my apartment's office all summer long (from the move). 

Today, I finally got my Internet up and running, since I will need that for school, for my practicum homework, and for my work (when I eventually start back at it again near the end of September). I had had a call into tech support and they had asked for a service call - but by the time the guy got here, I had figured out that the phone jack I was plugging the modem into was defective somehow, and relocated the modem to a room with a working jack in it.  When the guy got here, he told me that the first jack not a real phone jack at all, but a connector for sharing screens on two different televisions, which the previous tenants had set up. It was a small victory for me to solve my own problem rather than waiting for some white knight to come charging in.

And between running errands at the stores, rearranging my kitchen supplies, putting up wall decorations, and taking the extra trash out the last couple of days, I noticed today that I am not taking the stairs so slowly ... unless I have a super heavy load to carry. Baby steps, but steps nonetheless. (No pun intended).

I am also eating more sensibly. All I had to do when I was living with my family was just mention some whim I had for this or that sweet or salty treat, and it magically appeared within a day or so. Now, I have to buy everything myself, and not only that, actually make the trip to do that. In a strange city, I find I hesitate before going out, especially in the early evening. This evening, I took off to go to the Wal-Mart - but I got lost and ended up about six exits away from where I needed to be. Out came Siri (my i-Phone's GPS), and after I convinced her I wasn't going to the town of New Brunswick in New Jersey (haha) she got me to the Wal-Mart. And she got me back home again - in the dark - so if I am learning anything, it is to recognize when I am out of my league and ask for help. This too is a positive thing.  Of course the main reason I went was for a certain item - and I completely forgot it - but at least I got there and back! 

All in all, everything is taking shape - from the apartment, to my practicum, to my activity level, to my eating, to my self-care. I am tired at the end of a day, but it is a good kind of tired. I find myself looking forward to my practicum days - even though they are intense and action-packed - wondering what I will get to do that day. It is hard, and wonderful, and nerve-wracking, and exciting, and stressful, and I am reaching the end of each day knowing that, as my supervisor puts it, (1) nobody got hurt today, (2) nobody wanted to hurt themselves today, and (3) nobody wanted to hurt anyone else today. 

Yes, things are taking shape. And so am I, from the inside out.

Equilibrium

It's amazing how quickly something can command your attention and take over your life.

When I first joined Facebook over three years ago, little did I realize how much time it would take out of my routine. Not that it did at first. I would spend an evening catching up with friends. Then I'd turn on the computer right after getting home from work and before long, all my spare time was devoted to not just "lurking" but also posting things, playing games and liking or commenting on others' pictures or posts. That along with blogging, became my go-to place when I was home, especially if I was "bored."

Photo "Golden Brass Scales Of Justice" courtesy of Vichaya Kiatying-Angsulee at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

A few days ago, someone challenged me to take a look at what I spend the most of my time doing so as to determine what was most important to me. When I realized how unbalanced my life had become by spending so much time on social media (Facebook, Google Plus, twitter) and watching television, it was quite a shock. "If you could only spend 90 minutes a week watching your favorite TV series, or 'liking' and 'commenting' on Facebook," this person said, "would you feel out of touch somehow?" 

I had to admit that I would. 

Don't worry, I'm not going to sign off my accounts or anything. But the challenge made me think. 

Balance. Equilibrium. It's like my world had become top-heavy. Keeping in touch is great; enjoying yourself is great too. However, the routine of get-home-and-turn-on-the-computer-and-TV was close to becoming an obsession with me. Other things started to slide. Priorities re-arranged behind my back. Suddenly things were out of whack, and I wondered why I was feeling so out of sorts, like there was never enough time to do what needed to be done at the end of the day. 

When I started getting my priorities back into line, the balance I was seeking started to fall into place. Things that weren't necessary fell by the wayside. Stress levels reduced. I had more time to do what needed doing, to do what was most important. I started to enjoy the little pleasures again: the company of a good friend, the time to write, a good cup of tea, and the comfortable quiet of quality family time.

I'd missed that. 
I'm glad to have it back again.

Backtracking

I was chatting with one of my kids this morning, about the changes that have taken place in the last four years, things I never thought possible, things that have become the norm for me now.

It came to me that the changes are never-ending (that's as it should be), and that there are certain principles surrounding change that are good to remember in any transformation of behavior, whether it be a physical or a mental habit, a belief, or a behavior pattern. 

Here, in a cursory attempt to gel my own thoughts, is a summary of those principles.

Life is a journey. In every journey there are forks in the road - decisions that we make - that will affect outcomes. When the outcomes aren't what we planned, in the majority of cases, that can be directly connected to the choices we've made at those junctures. The longer we stay on a given path, the longer it will take to get back on the right one.

We all make mistakes. We stray off onto a bunny trail, fail to set boundaries, or encroach on others' boundaries ... and we end up paying the consequences. Some of those consequences are pretty wrenching, and we wish we could have a "do-over." Or that we could be airlifted out of the situation and somehow end up on the right road for a change.

The reality is that we need to get back on the right track. The question then becomes - how do we do that? How do we get on the right path when we have been on the wrong one for so long that it seems like the only one we have? 

Sometimes, we will need to accept "what is." Acceptance is huge. 

And sometimes, we will need to change what we can. That takes courage. 

Change is never easy!!

Sometimes, God takes pity on us, and we can be delivered from the consequences of our own choices; it happens. Divine deliverance still does happen. Sometimes. 

"Arrows Choice Shows Options Alternatives or Choosing" courtesy of Stuart Miles
at www.freedigitalphotos.net

Most times, however, the way to the right path is simply by stopping, fighting our way back to that junction at which we made the wrong decision or series of decisions, and making the right one or ones. And then ... sticking with it.

Backtracking is hard. It involves a lifestyle change, a paradigm shift in how we relate to God, to ourselves, and / or to others. Or a shift from just believing something to acting upon it.  It also involves a great deal of effort to overcome inertia - that tendency to allow things to carry on as they have been. If something is important enough to make that kind of a change, it's important enough to follow through on.

Nobody promised that it would be a walk in the park. The new way of thinking and behaving feels odd, uncomfortable, strange, unnatural. That's because it is.

Do it anyway. 

Backtracking, regaining lost territory, making things right again, learning a new way of thinking, believing and behaving, is like any new thing - it will feel awkward at first. It will take practice - and there will be times when we do it without the finesse that we would like - before it starts to feel a bit more "normal." Making mistakes is a given; however, it's okay to stop, rethink, go back, admit the mistake to those involved, and try again. 

Even if it's hard. 

It will take time. We will want to see results long before they happen. That too is normal. However, the only way to get those results is to consistently stick with the program, so to speak. Think of it this way - we reap what we sow. But sowing and reaping don't happen both at once: there is a period of time that is needed for the seed to germinate, grow, mature, and produce flower and/or fruit. This is the way of things. Instant results only work in the cartoon where Bugs Bunny puts a drop of water on the Instant Martian. Poof. 

The real world doesn't work like that. 

It does help, though, to have support and encouragement. We can be grateful indeed if we have friends who will help us, pray for us, and encourage us to keep the faith. And by far the best encouragement comes from that inner voice - - the one that is in our corner, the one that looks out for our best interests - even if it means that we are uncomfortable sometimes. Even if that voice might only be a whisper ... for now.

It will get louder ... if we keep listening to it.

Gently

For the last few months, as a steady stream of young people flows through our house to meet the social needs of one of our children, I've been noticing how some of them interact - specifically, how some of them treat each other.

Or rather, I should say, how they mistreat each other.

Maybe I missed the memo permitting friends to disrespect each other, call each other unspeakable names, strike each other, and use each other (and use their friends' parents) to "have fun". 

On the other hand, perhaps it's still wrong to treat another human being with disdain (even in jest!) - no matter how much right we feel we have to do so - much more wrong if that right we feel that we have is gained by means of familiarity. What I'm saying is that all too often, people can treat their family and friends in a way they'd never dream of treating other people. They justify cruelty by saying that the formality of rules and manners isn't necessary among friends. 

I've experienced relationships like this. Two people, both in extreme dysfunction, feeding off each other and using each other to meet the other one's emotional needs to be stroked, to feel important, to put the other one down - even joking around - to feel better about the self. 

I've seen these relationships fall apart, time after time. I've even witnessed marriages crumble over years and years, only to eventually fail, because one person (or both) got so incredibly tired of the other person taking him or her for granted, assuming the other person would "understand" - while all the while there were stress fractures that got deeper and deeper. Then, one day, one more unkind word, one more inconsiderate act, one more joke at the other one's expense - and someone just up and walks away, leaving the other bewildered. After all, it's always been this way; how could this happen?

It happens because common courtesy apparently isn't all that common. 

The old saying goes, "Familiarity breeds contempt." Time and time again, people forget to treat each other's treasure (the irreplaceable things that are most important to them) gently. 

Gently. 

Photo "Teenage Girls Gossiping" courtesy of Ambro at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

I know one woman who - every day for the last forty plus years - has made fun of her husband's height. She is taller than he is and ... she never lets him forget it.  

Every time she lords it over him, I see him cringe. He dies a little bit inside with every "short joke" she makes. He's learned not to object because then ... she laughs at him.  How much longer, I wonder, before his love and patience run out and he leaves her physically? He's already done it emotionally ... Or (worse yet, it could be argued) how many years has she removed from his life? Talk about shooting yourself in the foot!

And truly.  How much more effort does it take to be kind than to ridicule someone's choices, or (worse yet) poke fun at those things over which he or she has no control at all? (Height. Hairline. Age.) And it could be anything - any difference - and happen at any time! One middle aged man walking by the vehicle of a "friend" in a parking lot after a church service yells out to the driver (within earshot of his wife, who is beside him in the car) "Who's that old woman in there?" 

Seriously?

How much more effort and thought does it take to be considerate than to be unthinking? I guess I just answered my own question. People just don't want to THINK - they prefer to run on autopilot. All the while, they spew out poison on people and expect them to take it because they've bought into the fallacy that "Love means never having to say you're sorry." 

No. Tyranny means never having to say you're sorry. 

Love is patient, kind. It thinks of the other person first. (Which um, involves thinking. Wow.) I guess that is what counselors mean when they say that healthy relationships take work.

Hmm.

Waste Not

When I went to the water cooler at work today, I saw that the overflow tray that catches the drips when people fill up their water bottles, had some overflow in it - I've seen it more full, but it was just the right amount of water that I needed to water my smaller spider-plants. So, I removed the tray and headed back to my desk. 

Someone saw me carrying it and shot me a quizzical look. "I have this aversion to waste," I quipped. "My plants could use this."

When I was done, I put the tray back and went to my desk to resume working. In the back of my mind was the old adage, "Waste not, want not." 

Usually when I think about something that normally doesn't cross my mind, I start listening - hard - because that's about when that little voice inside of me comes along to teach me something. Or remind me of something. 

Waste not.

"Man Stacking Coins" courtesy of ponsulak at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

My parents grew up in the Depression, which started in the late 1920s and lasted up until World War II was over. Ever-present in our home life in the 1960s and 1970s was that sense of our parents' horror at the thought of wasting anything - from soap to food to seeds for the garden. While that did lead to the tendency to overeat (clean up everything on your plate, don't let it go to waste...) it did instill in me the awareness of the price of things, of how far a dollar went, of living on a tight budget. I learned from that atmosphere to be satisfied with less, to not wish so much for what was beyond my grasp. I learned that pennies actually counted. Sometimes they made the difference between buying a bag of potatoes and leaving it on the shelf.

And when I did receive something that was "extra" - like the single-speed, CCM bicycle I got for my birthday when I was 11 - I appreciated it all the more because I knew how many things my parents went without ... in order to save up enough money to buy it for me. 

There is another side to "Waste Not."  It has to do with the inherent value in the things that have no price. Honesty. Integrity. Faith. Love. Such things are never to be wasted, devalued, sullied, cheapened. They are part of my character, ideals I believe in, truths to which I hold - and when I get too close to the clean, clear edges between what feels right and what is wrong - that to me is such a waste of ... of me. It's then that I feel devalued. Dirty.

By the same token, it doesn't matter whether it's at church, at home, at work, or out in public: when I right a wrong, when I make a difference, when I cleave to the ideals I hold dear (even if nobody else agrees with me at the time) then I can look at myself in the mirror and like who I see. I feel as though the gift that God intended me to be to the world - however small or large that sphere of influence is - has not been wasted. At least for today. 

I even smile at myself. 

That's a pretty big deal.

Perhaps next time, I'll talk a bit about "Want Not." 

:)

Be there

I must check my email and each of my blogs at least three times a day. It sounds like a lot - and perhaps it is a bit excessive - but I don't want to miss anything that might be important to my readers ... or to me. 

For most of my life, I spent the majority of my time (until I got into recovery in January 2009) trying to escape. I tried to hide from my past, my feelings, my circumstances, even my children. I did that by burying myself in eating, reading, watching TV, playing games, doing crossword puzzles, even going to as many church functions as possible ... to escape the realities that made up my life. It wasn't even that my life was that horrible. It was that I wanted to get away from ... me. 

Once I started learning to make peace with my past and even to like myself, I found that I was better able to be there for the people in my life, including me. It surprised me how pervasive that tendency was - and still is to a certain extent. Now and again, I do have to remind myself what is important. And, in order of importance, here's what it means for me to "be there":

Be there for me - Self-care has become huge for me over the last 40 months (wow, has it been that long?). If I'm not looking after myself, I will have absolutely nothing in reserve to give to anyone else. I've written about this so much in the last two years or so that it's become a familiar song. Yet, I learn through repetition, and the reminder to practice self-care is something that I've needed to repeat many times to myself. Doormat-itis is deeply entrenched and it got that way through repetition. Recovery from that takes just as much repetition, if not more.

A very large part of that is making time for intimacy with God. I must admit that of all the things that are crucial to my self-care, this priority tends to get crowded out very easily. That's why I need to remind myself that this one relationship is central to every other and that if it suffers, they all suffer. 

Photo from a post called "How to be a Good Listener"

Be there for my husband and kids - This sometimes means laying aside what I would prefer to do and choosing to do what one (or more) of them like(s) to do, even in the little things. Watching Tangled instead of Star Trek. Listening to the radio (or to - gag me - Country and Western) in the vehicle rather than to my preferred kind of music. Or just listening to them ... which is (of course) far bigger a deal than what kind of movie or music we each like.

Be there for my friends - Lately, this has meant working harder at not talking so much about me, and letting them tell me what is going on with them: caring for them and not worrying so much about them not meeting my needs. I have a tendency to put on my martyr hat and try to get people to feel sorry for me. I'm learning that the less I say about me, and the more I keep the focus on them, the less trouble I get into. ;)

Be there for my clients - I was going to say "...for my employer." But you know, the reason I go to work is not for my boss, although I do try to keep her happy whenever I can. The thing that keeps me going back is the knowledge that my efforts make a difference in people's lives. I take a great deal of pleasure in that. Of course, there are things about every job that are less than ideal; that's to be expected. But overall, I feel blessed to do two things that I love doing - helping people, and writing to do that - for a living. Not everyone gets to do that.

Be there for my church - I have made a commitment to my church to be there in ministry whenever I can be. When I make a promise, I do my level best to keep it, and this is no different. It doesn't hurt that I love doing what I do, and I get to do it with people I care about. What a gift.

You may have noticed that I separated my spiritual commitment to intimacy with God and my commitment to church ministry; I have done so for a very important reason. Many people equate their service to the church with their obligation to God. I don't. The latter, for me, is about the vertical relationship; the former, about the horizontal ones.  Priority One is the relationship between God and me; I think of it as my "plumb line" - the one on which everything else hangs. Without it, there is no third dimension to my life: it's all flat, like a soft drink without the bubbles. Duty-driven. With that third dimension, it all makes sense to me. Life has context and contour, sparkle and sizzle. 

The core relationship permeates and infuses all the others; it's part of who I am, how I define myself, and enriches each of those other facets. 

One thing is sure. Living like this might be many things - not all of them pleasant - but it's never dull.