Posts Tagged With: letting go of painful memories

Day 913: It takes one to know one

When somebody gives me a compliment, I often reply:

It takes one to know one.

I believe that, too. Seeing a positive attribute —  like kindness, generosity, humor, or creativity —  means you have some of that quality, also. Otherwise, you wouldn’t recognize or value it.

Yesterday, at an EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing) therapy session. I said

It takes one to know one

in a very different way, about a painful and persistent memory from when I was a child in the hospital.

As I’ve described in a previous post, a very unkind, ungenerous, humorless, and non-creative Doctor Hyatt, in 1963, responded to my telling him I was in excruciating pain by:

  • calling me a “spoiled brat”
  • refusing to help in any way,
  • saying, “You’re just doing this for attention and there are really sick children here!” and
  • leaving me alone, in my hospital room.

Then, I was

  • still in pain,
  • shamed, for expressing pain,
  • worried that I had somehow caused  harm to the sick children all around me, and
  • horribly confused by why an adult had gotten so angry at me, when  all I had done was try to survive.

In some ways, I have spent my whole life, since then, trying to figure out and let go of that experience.

Yesterday, in EMDR therapy, I revisited that encounter with Dr. Hyatt, and I

  • beat the stuffing out of a pillow,
  • yelled, “You’re fired!” and
  • replied to being labeled a spoiled brat with “It takes one to know one!”

After that session, I hope to be less inclined to fear other people suddenly becoming angry at me, for no reason.

You know?

It took one to know one, yesterday, in these photos I took, one after another:

It takes one music-lover to know one wonderful piece of music, heard yesterday on one car radio, after that EMDR session:

One performance of Pachelbel‘s Canon on YouTube has taken WAY more than one to know one —  that video has over 24 million views.

One more one thing to know: it takes one blogger to know one (or more) reactions from you, with gratitude.

Knowing thanks to my EMDR therapist, George, to everybody else who contributed to my creating this post, and to you — of course! — for visiting here, today.

Categories: personal growth, photojournalism | Tags: , , , | 56 Comments

Day 906: Everything is an opportunity 

Everything is an opportunity

is one of my beliefs about life.

I don’t always feel that way, especially when

everything is an excruciating pain

but, even then, I’ll come around to the belief that

everything is an opportunity

sooner than later.

Allow me to take this opportunity to explain why

Everything is an opportunity

is the post topic for today.

  1. I had EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing) therapy yesterday, which is giving me the opportunity to let go of some old, painful memories.
  2. Yesterday, after a therapy group I facilitated, one of the group members  and I discussed the unique structure of my groups, including the resulting challenges AND opportunities.
  3. Yesterday, my iPhone became mute, inexplicably taking the opportunity to stop all sounds,  including music.

After I took the opportunity to search the web for quick and dirty fixes for my phone, my phone’s continuing silence gave me opportunities to:

  • pay more attention, visually, during my walks to and from work and
  • go to the Burlington Mall yesterday evening, with my boyfriend Michael, to get my phone fixed.

As usual, I took the opportunity to document these opportunities, through the still-working eye of my iPhone:

Allow me to take this opportunity to tell you that my iPhone is now fixed. The nice Verizon rep (whom I did not take the opportunity to photograph) did a “soft reset” on my phone, and now I can listen to music again.

Speaking of music, I shall now take this opportunity to include some music here. But what elite ideas do I have about that? Will my choice — or the song — be quick and easy? Will I leave dirt at the door? Should I choose a song about numbers? Is there a tune called “Splat Ball”? Or “Soft Reset”?

What I usually do — when I choose music for a post — is take the opportunity to share something that came up on my iPhone the day before. However, since you’ve taken the opportunity to read this post, you know there was no such music yesterday.

However, because I had no music on my iPhone, I took the opportunity to listen to some music on my car radio. And I heard the ending of a song with these lyrics:

Your heart never stops beating
I love you long after you’re gone

I took the opportunity to write those lyrics down, but I didn’t get the opportunity to find out the name of the song or the performer(s):

When taking the opportunity to search the opportunistic web for the first line of those lyrics, I found this:

Let me take the opportunity to say that was not what I heard on the radio yesterday, but I appreciate the opportunity to hear and share “Shellshock” by New Order.

When I took the opportunity to Google both lines of the lyrics I heard yesterday, I found this:

I’m glad I had the opportunity to share “Gone Gone Gone” by Phillip Phillips today, along with everything else in this post.

If you take the oppprtunity to share your thoughts and feelings here, I’ll write an answer, as soon as I have the opportunity.

I love the opportunity to thank everybody and everything that gave me the opportunity to write today’s post. And — of course! — thank you, for taking the opportunity to read it.

Categories: personal growth, photojournalism | Tags: , , , , , , | 28 Comments

Day 434: The Doritos Cure

I think it’s safe to say my post titles sometimes give readers the “wrong idea,” inviting them to assume a direction never taken.

This may be one of those posts, people.

In previous posts, I’ve written about

  1. Particular phobias/fears I have known (here and here), and
  2. Anxiety about keeping other people waiting.

I would now like to take the opportunity to dub #2, above, with an official phobia name:


Hmmmmm. I don’t like that title. It implies I’m afraid of waiting, in general. Now, I’m not denying that, but I need to be more precise, for the purposes of this post.

If this post weren’t muddled enough already, here comes a digression: I had to pause, right there, to wake up my son, for the first school day after the weekend’s time change, which reminds me of another fear of mine:


which is a too-general name for fears about having to wake people up.

Geeesh.  At this point, I am so far away from a hint of any cure — Doritos or otherwise —  I’m feeling a little phobic about that.  Are you?

So, where were we?  Oh, yes. Trying to come up with a good-enough name for the fears related to making people wait.

Maybe, what would help, at this point, would be to imagine a picture, related to this phobia of mine.


Whenever I can’t respond immediately — to a phone call or another request at work — I imagine somebody waiting, in pain. As a result, I can feel frantic.

A few weeks ago, I was talking to my supervisor at work about this issue.  She asked about my own associations with waiting and pain. And a personal picture came up, for me, of a little girl, in a hospital bed, waiting for pain medication, after surgery.

My supervisor and I talked about how pictures stick in the mind. We also discussed how a cure for old pictures can be … new ones.

We still seem to be light-years away from Doritos, don’t we?  I really don’t want to make YOU wait, in pain, either. So I will get there ASAP, I promise.

In this meeting with my supervisor, she asked me what pictures I imagined, regarding people waiting for me to respond back to them.  And the pictures were similar to the one I’ve included in this post, above.

She then invited me to replace that picture with something different, which might help reduce my Making-people-in-pain-wait-o-phobia.***

We talked about how — whenever somebody waits for a response for somebody else — they are rarely in just one state of mind for the whole time.  People have lives. They are distracted by other things.  She suggested that I replace the pictures of people in pain with an image of somebody doing something else, besides just waiting for my phone call.

She said, “Why don’t you … imagine the person eating Doritos?”

I don’t know how she came up with Doritos. I didn’t ask her. But since she and I have had that conversation, I’ve used that suggestion.

Now, whenever somebody is waiting for a phone call back from me, I can choose to imagine them like this:


instead of only imagining them in pain. I can remember that most people, waiting for a response from me, are not in pain, every single moment.

Okay!  I’m looking at the clocks around me. I see that some of them indicate I have plenty of time, and others are saying, “Not so much.”

Time to go to work!

Thanks to Rodale News and Confetti Drop (for the images), to those who wait, to those who keep others waiting, and to everybody else — including you!

* I found this image in response to “people in pain” in Google Images.

** I found this image in response to “person eating Doritos” in Google Images.

*** That’s the best phobia name I could come up, for now.  I am open to better suggestions, for sure. Take your time.  I can wait.

Categories: personal growth | Tags: , , | 20 Comments

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