Comparative Social Norms – The Daily Screed

I had a therapy session today. I’m having mixed feelings about it. It was less terrible than I feared it might – more in line with my rational estimates than me fears – but also still an experience where I say terrible things and someone else underestimates how terrible, so I have to hang out cantilevered waiting for them to catch up. That sort of standing alone after I’ve been exposed is a thing I’ve trained myself to do so I don’t die but it’s not the same as being supported. I do it thinking it might help someone with their own life, or at least protect them from mine or one like mine, but never expecting anyone will meet me there. And it doesn’t work the same way when it’s in private for me, because the safety I draw on to make it go is about isolation and endurance, and I can’t out-endure myself.

I did notice that 1) it’s hard for me to imagine my anxiety as distinct from myself. In many ways it isn’t. That integration has been useful to me in terms of managing my life, and sometimes even in being a good person. But it’s not useful for getting help. Not sure what to do about that, but I can see how it would be useful to work in both frameworks.

2) That I actually do know what to do about seeing a physician** and I just need someone to hold my hand* the right way about it to make it happen. I’m working on teaching Shanda what that might be but you sort of refuse to see the way I’m incapable because it makes you nervous in your own right. I could submit entirely to your care and not manage it myself but that’s only marginally better than what’s happening now – it’s still not me seeing my own need – and a lot more work for you. I haven’t found a version where you can actually help instead of just mechanically doing it for me or ignoring it entirely.

So I don’t know how it went. It still feels very easy for me to demand nothing and accept whatever and do all that could be expected from me because this is supposed to work, at least according to statistics and people with first hand experience. I definitely know that what I did today is unsustainable, and I sometimes felt patronized by being recognized for my participation. I felt misunderstood in the ways that are to be expected in a first conversation but it’s hard for me to judge how that bodes for the future because I expect so little. And I had a pretty significant amount of anxiety about making it happen, which was tough in and of itself, and if it continues would limit the value of repeated interactions. Hopefully I can work out a more settled position before I do another one of these.

Had a good day at work though. Got full meeting credit without going in. Got all the work I needed finished before 1 and (other than therapy) had a fairly relaxing day. Friday is going to be slightly busier but I think still tolerable. And I got wide buy in on a project I’m proposing – something that will make my own job eaiser by letting other people do it – which should let me spend some time not working on SRs. At least so long as turn something in eventually.

In thinking about getting Shanda’s help with a physician I realized that I frequently have trouble communicating emotional helplessness. Particularly to Shanda, because you have been trained to ignore such things, but also in general – I can’t seem to make people understand when I’m not getting what I need. I try to negotiate the least possible accommodation on the least demanding timescale I think might let me recover to some position I can endure – not anyplace good just enough that I won’t die – and then often fail to achieve even that. Or feel guilty even for asking for that, the smallest thing I think might be enough. It would be very useful for me to be able to do that differently. It would help if Shanda wasn’t so universally afraid of any “hard feeling”, as she says, that I need to express. That dynamic often leaves me profoundly alone when I am in the greatest need.

Had some time with Dog, after a month away. He wasn’t 100% sure of me when I got there but he got more excited after the initial sniffing suggested that he might know me. By the next day he was collapsing into me for scritches and sleeping pressed up against me. So I think we’re friends again. He looks different now, with his long cost finally grown back in on his neck. Whiter and fluffier and more round. He looks good though, and his neck scar is covered and softening up.

Shanda asked me before I came home to worry about the way she was scheduling B while I was here. But now that I’m here I’m here we’re in the dynamic where you won’t make decisions about it and won’t listen to me when I ask even just to be informed, let alone to have any influence or know how you’re feeling. I can just accept that you don’t care for me to be able to make plans that include you, or I can have you yell at me about how I’m not allowed to ask questions. Either way I’m not on the priority list and not even allowed to know what it is. It’s not great but there’s literally nothing I can do about it until you decide it should end. I hope that’s before I leave again.

Talked to Cowboy about the definition of family. Quizzed you sort of aggressively in fact, about particular word choices. You had, based on the context, been trying to say nice things to me. But due to my unique understanding of the world I often hear them as threats and criticisms. I’m working on it, hence the questions.

Talked to DerbyK about the safety of objects and the expression of care through prediction and preemptive action. You were very kind, not just in theory but in speaking about it in a way that helps me understand the feeling you wanted to share and not merely the token of that feeling that is often cynically shared. By accommodating my actual perspective and not just assuming I’d know what you meant.

Talked at M about my anxiety and indecision. You rarely have much to say but it’s often easier for me to hear you say something supportive than it would be from many others. It’s easier for me to read – I think easier for you to execute – the sort of careful mirroring that makes me feel well understood.

Got a package from Mother. Well, someone with my old name adn address did. But the chances of Mother ever accepting my name are small, and she definitely can’t be bothered to know where I am – she couldn’t manage that when I lived with her. This package was better than most though, with only a petina of corporate gift. Or at least Shanda got rid of all the worse parts before I saw it; I would rather not know the worse parts and it’s easier for her to deal with them than me. I also realized, based on the presence of Russell Stover*** candies, that if I sell Mother a jingle to help her remember a story she wants to tell I can use that to get her to repeatedly do a thing for years. Which I suspect will be useful.

Watched The Addams Family (1991) last night with Shanda. I remember liking it and even vaguely why, but it’s a much more subtle and intentional movie than I remember. Which is saying something for a movie that involves everyman characters being aware of a certain level of magic. But it’s got some great multi-layered symbolism, good technical plot construction that uses instead of fights the symbols, and it uses “Mother” in the first person in exactly the way I mean it when I use it as a proper noun. It’s also a Christmas movie (with carols and family and everything), which you should remember next time someone wants to watch a bad Christmas movie. It’s also got the correct, non-sexual use of an emotionless 11-year-old**** to tell us about emotional distress, an appreciation for the real impact of violence, mastery of household mood, amazing lighting, and Christopher Lloyd fucking nailing it. You should again if you haven’t recently. It’s in Plex. #WeAreAllFester.

I asked a while ago for you all to help me build a social support network. Some of you are working on it, though some of you are still pretty quiet. Here’s the next step from me:

If you want to support me and can’t or don’t want to do it directly, please coordinate with Shanda and they will help you. If you feel up to it I would encourage you to reach out to her preemptively, so that they can know who you are, and can have your help in supporting me.

ZiB

*Don’t actually hold my hand about it, at least not without careful understanding of how I will react. Touch is very rarely comforting to me and often distressing.

**Or at least capable of researching it and figuring it out. It would be great if there were guides written for the abandoned 4-year-old that needs help but I am capable of, with effort, figuring it out. I’ve been doing fine making a similar thing go for M. I’m even doing okay with the hand holding part, though I often feel like my anxiety gets in the way of doing that as well as I’d like. So presumably I can manage this mostly for myself if I had just a little of the sort of support I need.

***Which are not great but are much better than the Zachary’s candies I have gotten in the past, and I was able to modify this behavior almost 20 years ago just by telling the right story and giving it a (what a narcissist considers a) joke she could remember and felt good about it. “For candy-buying purposes my name is Russell Stover”.

****Which makes me both appreciate Christina Ricci and lament whatever thing taught her to do this.

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Sent from a phone.