Depression is a Trap

I got out last week and went to a bible study group.  I wanted to pray for my oldest daughter who is suffering with hyper mobility.  But the narc in my group that I told you about in this posting, Social Skills a few paragraphs down, decided to give me a good bullying session instead.

Well here goes.  I was mentioning that my daughter is suffering from hyper mobility that will bring her pain, and that narc said, "Well, how would you feel if you were so and so.  She has no diagnosis for her illness and that is just the way it is.  You should be happy you have a diagnosis."

Um, I should be happy?

I have been having some depression lately.  I didn't mean to cower to her.  But there were 10 people in the group and it was exactly as how I predicted.  No one helped me out.  No one validated me.  She went on for awhile really putting me in my place.  I was cut off in mid sentence talking about my daughter, and then she started talking and all eyes were all on her.  I eventually got my request in, but I must say I was ticked right off!  I literally had pounding in my ears.

I don't know if its the depression because if I could relive that incident, I would have piped right up and say, "What does so and so have to do with me?  Is not my issue just as important?"  I would love to go back and experiment with that.  Oh, I want to!

But the moment has past.  We can't take back what is gone.

I also wanted to pray for people I talk to online who are going through some very tough trials.  On Sunday at church, the lesson was about complaining and that we shouldn't be complaining.  Now, I understand that there are some people who complain all the time (namely narcs).  But some people have very tough circumstances in life and I just want to know how to talk in those cases.  In case I put my foot in my mouth and say something wrong.

So I mentioned that at the bible study.  And that narc lady piped up again.  She gave me the advice.  I think she was trying to cover for the earlier incident.  Doesn't matter.  Some of the others helped me out with this. And they actually were willing to forgo the bible reading to talk about this.   I said that was great because I don't want some pie in the sky type of Christianity.  I am also tired of saying that God is using circumstances in your life.  It doesn't help anyone.

But it was hard for others to speak while this "lady" was talking.  I wish the elders would take her aside and give her a good talking to.  I felt invalidated, because my daughter was lesser?  Than so and so?  Because so and so was more important?  And everyone chose to ignore her instead of telling her to shut up?  I would have told her to shut up if I was in my right mind.

Now isn't that just like a narc to make you feel that way?

Isn't it like depression to make you feel that way?

Reality was she was being an idiot.  And she couldn't get to me until now.

Here's the thing, although I got out the thing I wanted to say, I felt angry, hurt and even more depressed.  And, I had thought I got myself out of the approval seeking toilet months ago.  Even though I've grown and learned a few things, this will be a daily battle for the rest of my life.

It was the worst thing that happened to me since my awakening.  Talking to my flying monkey aunt, who I approached first because she didn't recognize me, tried to get her to talk to me.  Weeks went by before I felt upset.  It is important to not block pain, because it will come and bite you in the butt sooner or later!  And it grows out of proportion.

And the pain was valid, she was being a stupid flying monkey denying me the right to be in no contact.  Telling me I was wrong, warning me that I will be so sorry for treating my "poor mom" like this.  So I had every right to feel hurt, I did.  But I blocked it.  I didn't want to hurt anymore.  But hurting is part of living, isn't it?  Why oh why can't the universe cave on this one?

I even thought it was cool how my stats skyrocketed since I've been blogging so much since I felt depressed.  More approval seeking.  It was never my intention to get this really cool blog and have tons of attention.  No way.  Of course I want this to reach people who need it and for others too, but I got caught up in the fame.  This is the wrong goal.  Of course, I do understand that a big blog has tremendous value, and would never say lets all just have tiny blogs.  Actually, I don't care if I do have a big blog, but not for approval seeking.

Approval seeking is a drug, that once you get it, it is gone, and you will need more and more.

So I made a commitment tonight to not be looking for approval ever.  I'm even watching what I say at home and not looking for cool things to say.  I'm just going to be me.  But I almost got to the point of defending myself here at home, and then I stopped myself and chose rather not to say anything.  Yes, lately, every thing I say is either a defense or cool or needy.  So I have to stop myself and give myself a break from that roller coaster.

I will say what I want to and not try to please.

Another problem connected to that.  I came from a small town.  Last names are definitive of where you come from around here.  My husband is now working with a husband of a woman I went to high school with.  He is bringing in the yearbook.  He began teasing me last night.  I don't take very well to teasing.  He doesn't understand this.  I wasn't much in high school.  I was weird and probably my pictures show that.  I couldn't sit right or smile right, and I feel horrible about this.  And I have enormous pride.

I went on, "How dare you."  He immediately changed the subject.  But I feel horrible.

Why do these two grown up men want to do this to me?  He also said we are to pop in to visit them sometime.  Does his wife know who I am?  In my mind I'm immediately transported back to high school.  I wasn't a pretty girl.  I looked like I could barely comb my hair.  I probably didn't brush my teeth even, and I probably smiled the biggest smile, not understanding much.

But I grew up the scapegoat of a narc pig, what else did I know.  Not much.

But look.  I have this new vision of the whole thing.  I learned so much, but that meeting with that stupid flying monkey aunt threw me back into yesteryear.  In which I still get attacked by narcs, and I still feel like that helpless child.  But I know better.

Ok, a new reality check here.  I didn't do anything wrong here.  I did what I had to do.  What's amazing is that a new lesson is coming forth.  I'm doing myself a favor here and I'm going to take all of this hurtful stuff and I'm going to tether it to reality.

Reality tells me this:

Love is a word I need to relearn sober.
No is a word I need to relearn sober.
Me is a word I need to relearn sober.

The abuser and its followers has stolen these words.  It is the struggle in my mind to separate fantasy from reality.

I mean so what if this woman I knew from high school recognizes me as a weird girl.  Oh well, I can't do anything about that.  So I just feel all the pain with that.  It doesn't matter that is was a very long time ago.   The feeling persists.

Its ok to be an amateur at this.  This is a life long progress.  So I feel vulnerable, humiliated.  Scared. But isn't that what mother always wanted me to feel?  To always be humiliated, and its happening again.  I know, I know, I'm all grown up and very youthful for my age.  Healthy and strong.  Perhaps I could give this old high school girl a run for it.  But it doesn't matter, its my feelings and my feelings say humiliated.  Besides, I don't care about looks, this is a trap I'm falling into.  I don't want to let superficiality take over.  But is is going to if I don't get this under control.  I'll start behaving in ways that are not me, but the result of defense mechanisms.  There is no need for me to defend myself.

Another thought comes to mind.  Perhaps God is doing a work here in helping my husband understand me.  That the vulnerability is good, and it has a job to do and just feel my way through it. My husband doesn't understand me enough, he just wants to live life, and is sometimes dumbfounded by my behaviours.  So maybe now we will come to a new understanding.  Sometimes we just have to trust that pain is process and not the end result.  A good mommy would have told me that.