This seems like an important topic to me.
It really helps me to remember that everything makes sense on some level. (This seems to help other people, too.)
It’s something that I tend to forget, though.
It’s something that I keep re-learning, in new ways, as I grow. (See this post, which people really seem to like, about re-learning things as we move through life.)
I want to start writing about this topic, in a new way, today. I want to start telling the story differently. (See this post, which people seem to like even more than the other one I just mentioned, about the importance of how we tell stories.)
I want to give myself room to write about this briefly — to start the conversation with you. Because that’s another important lesson I’ve learned — it’s really valuable just to connect authentically, even for a few moments, and start a conversation with somebody.
Really Brief Digression about the Presentation I Started Giving Last Week
At the end of the presentation I gave — called “The Power of Groups” (which is really about connecting effectively with patients, no matter where — a medical resident put this beautifully. He said, “What I learned today was that it’s a great start just to (1) validate a patient and (2) give them some next steps.” (It made me so happy, that he (re-)learned that.)
End of Brief Digression
So, this is how I want to begin the conversation about this topic today. I want to start listing things that freak me out — things that make me “too anxious,” and which can make me almost unbearably anxious when I’m under stress.
Today, I just want to name these things (thus reducing their power) and give a little bit of data about them, to start proving that they make sense on some level(s).
I am also going to divide the data into different types: Reasons That I Share With Others (which help me feel connected to other people) and Reasons That Can Make Me Feel Different (and therefore alone). This is something I notice all the time, in my work as a group therapist — people connect — and heal — when they realize they are not alone with feelings and experiences. At the same time, they can disconnect about things they feel alone about (and shame about).
Another thing I’ve been learning lately: the things that make me feel alone and different might not be as isolating as I think. So I’m going to address that in this list, too.
One More Digression (to stall and also — I hope — to be helpful)
Before I launch into this list , which feels new, and therefore scary (see here for a fun post about that) (and yes, I am stalling — or “procrastinating” — by throwing in lots of links, because I’m anxious about writing this), I just wanted to let you know that Naming Things and Gathering Data are #1 and #2 on This List of Coping Strategies — even if I don’t call them that on the list.
End of Last Digression
Okay! Deep breath …..
Things That Freak Me Out “Too Much“
# 1 : Giving a presentation freaks me out.
Why this makes sense to most people:
The top two fears of people are public speaking and death. (See this post for more about that, plus a quote from Jerry Seinfeld.)
Why this makes sense to (only) me:
Because, when I was in college, right before I graduated, the administration decided to give English Majors an Oral Exam (as a way to reduce grade inflation). The board of professors who gave me that exam were very tough (I experienced them as shaming and humiliating). I started out gamely, but things they said, (like “You are about to graduate from THIS SCHOOL and you don’t know THAT??”) made me so anxious, that I kept doing worse and worse. I felt like I was freezing and my brain slowed down, and I remembered less and less. I left the room and burst into tears. I knew I had screwed up. When I told a friend how I had done, he said to me, “Oh, Ann. You always think you’ve screwed up. I know one of the professors who was there. I’ll ask him.” And I remember my friend’s face when he said to me, “I spoke to him. You were right. You failed the exam.” And I still graduated, with honors, but at a (much) lower level.
Why that story of mine isn’t so different from lots of other stories:
Many people have had experiences of feeling humiliated while they were speaking in front of others.
#2: When things don’t work the way I expect them to (especially technology), I freak out.
Why this makes sense to most people:
Lots of reasons: It’s frustrating when things don’t work the way they’re supposed to! Most of us are trying to do too much with too little, and if things don’t work correctly, we feel like we don’t have time to spare to correct for that. Some of us, who are older, feel like we can’t keep up with all the changes in technology (computers, cell phones, etc.). Even low-tech devices (like food processors, which freak me out) require a learning curve to use smoothly.
Why this makes sense to (only) me:
I am dependent upon a technological device — a cardiac pacemaker — to help me survive. When man-made devices fail, that reminds me (on a subconscious level, usually) that my pacemaker can fail, too. (And I had several pacemakers that didn’t work so well , when both I and pacemaker technology were very young.)
Why this story of mine isn’t so different from lots of other stories:
Hmmm. I’m not sure about this one. Maybe … lots of people feel REALLY dependent upon technology these days.
#3. People not telling me the truth freaks me out.
Why this makes sense to most people:
Nobody likes being lied to. It can feel like a betrayal.
Why this makes sense to (only) me:
When I was a kid in the hospital, and had gotten my first pacemaker, nobody prepared me for what it was going to look like in my body. (It was big and it stuck out under my skin, A LOT.) When I first saw it and asked what it was, a nurse — who was the only person there while I asked — lied to me about it. She said it was just my hip, swollen from the surgery. (By the way, this was the story that I didn’t feel ready to tell while I was writing this post.)
Why that story of mine isn’t so different from lots of other stories:
Lots of people have been lied to — when they were small, vulnerable, and powerless – by those who were supposed to be taking care of them (and protecting them).
Oh. I guess this is going to be a short list this morning.
It’s a beginning list, isn’t it?
And, you know what? I just told a story — that’s really important to me — in a new way. In a short way. In a contained way. In a way to honor my difference and uniqueness, but also to connect with others.
And I feel better. I feel like I changed something here.
So that concludes our post for today, ladies and gentlemen.
I hope this post made sense (to you). It made lots of sense to me.
Thank you, so much, for reading today.
The Year(s) of Living Non-Judgmentally 