A journal of healing

Harassment

This idea for this post came from my Doc friend’s blog. She was talking about harassment and where does the line get drawn. She had a patient who was making passes at her staff in jest, but it was still annoying. Of course it was annoying. It was harassment. And as I wrote back to her, harassment is determined by the person who is receiving it, not the person who is inflicting it. It has nothing to do with the intent. It is all about how something is received.

I also went on to say that for someone who has a traumatic childhood, or was a victim of sexual abuse or other violent acts, the response to someone’s intent to be funny has just the opposite effect. It can cause a major trigger that can put someone into a tailspin for days and weeks. They may not even know what they are reacting to. It could be a word or even the tone of the harasser.

Harassment can come in many forms. Often people think they are doing a good thing. But someone who constantly harasses someone from the concept of improving the person is totally misguided. What makes that person think they have that right? What makes them so superior to be able to comment?

As I thought about this all week, it hit me that parents come from a point of improving their child but when does it become harassment? Isn’t improving a child the role of a parent? Is there a point when the parent should stop trying to improve their child?

What about a spouse or your partner? Is it ok to harass them into doing something, especially when it affects your family or home? It probably is not ok, but it is hard not to do. I speak from experience.

My husband’s 28 year old daughter will not learn to drive. This makes me crazy. She is terrified, she says. She finally got her permit and then took one lesson. This took three years to accomplish. She said the lesson went ok. But she has made no attempt to continue.  Instead, she relies on her father to tote her around like Miss Daisy. I think he enjoys her dependency on him. Did I say this drives me nuts?

I am skilled in motivation interviewing. I teach it matter of fact. I know in my heart that I am not going to move either one of them on this topic, so I resort to harassment- truth be told. My intent to get his daughter to drive is based on the best interests for her. I want her to be independent and not have to rely on US for the rest of her life. We won’t be there. She has no other family and she has no friends. Her mother passed away at the age of 52. She instilled this irrational fear to drive in her daughter as the mother never drove.

The real reason the daughter won’t drive is because then she will be expected to do something with her life. That ain’t happening either. I know this probably irks me more than anything. What a waste.

Does harassing them help? Absolutely not. It only escalates my anger and frustration more. Can I walk away from it? NO. It slaps me in the face every time she calls her father for a favor. There was over twelve years when his daughter was out in California with her mother that she never called or spoke to her father. It hurt him to the core. But when the mother died, it was; “Oh, Daddy.” He can’t see it or chooses not to.

The bottom line is it still harassment, even with the good intent. I know in my heart I want her to have a life and not rot away like her mother did. I am sad that she is wasting her life. She has all the capabilities to do whatever she wants, but she chooses the easy way out. I have no right to her life. But boy, it is hard to keep my mouth shut. I am so helpless on this because she is not even my kid.

The bottom line is harassment is a person attempt to control. It is coming at someone from the viewpoint of superiority, or desiring some effect of change. I lived with harassment my whole life. Although it was sometimes masked in humor, it was my family’s way to control and inflict. Years of harassment left me sensitive to being criticized in any manner.

We cannot change people. We can influence them, we can teach, we can support. But it is impossible to change someone who does not want to. But damn, its hard not to do.

 

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“You’re too sensitive.” “I meant this is a good way.” And my favorite: Don’t take this personally.” Everyone time someone says those things; I know it is going to be a dagger in my soul. I am too sensitive. I will take it badly. And I most definitely will take it personally. Because that is the honest intent. Prefacing statements with “honestly” or to “tell the truth” does not excuse the fact that you are about to be mean. “It’s for your own good” never really is. It’s about you feeling superior to me.

Being an empath is not a pleasure. I see right through most people’s crap in a heartbeat. It does not mean that I can shield myself from the hurt. I never learned that part of survival. Because of that, I am very vulnerable to insults, even if they are shrouded in good intentions. They never really are good intentions.

When you are a large woman, you are a walking target for these kinds of insults. People feel so justified to say, “You would be so pretty if…..” “or you have a beautiful face….” People tell you how much better your life would be if only you could be more like them with statements like: “you should run with me some morning.” Oh Honey, if you really knew me, you would know I can hardly walk some mornings due to psoriatic arthritis. But you don’t really see me, so thanks but no thanks.

These comments do more than just hurt me. They trigger me. My family never lacked in cruel comments. It was a sport to see how clever someone could insult another. I was an enigma in the sense I was the only woman in my family who was large. I mean I am the tallest by 5 to 7 inches, I wore a much larger size (my Mom was a zero to 3) and I had boobs. I spent my childhood listening to “how much better I would be if I only…” This is emotional abuse by the way. I was deprived of treats, often subjected to ridiculous diets like green beans and Jello and constantly harangued about my shape.

[And this is how just writing about my childhood trigger me to justify it. I realized this when I went back to reread what I wrote:] My mom was in charge of the food in the house and meals were excessively high in carbs and fat. There was always soda and cookies available because the other siblings could gorge on them. They were thin. I was an extremely active child and teen often spending the day swimming or riding a bike for miles. I was not allowed to sit around and watch TV or even read. As a younger woman, I was very active. I only slowed down because of the PsA and if I did not have it, I would still be playing tennis and other activities as much as I could.

My family’s constant barrage of self-improvement comments were actually telling me how I failed. There was little said to counter the demeaning of the words. It successfully made me feel like a failure and that was the intent. I know this now, but it scarred me. So now when people make their veiled comments, I hear the disappointment in my mother and father and it brings me back to that time. When you have PTSD, it does not take much to trigger you.

When you grow up with a sense of failure, you have two choices: over achieve or lie down and whither. I overachieved. My success had not dampened the hurt I feel when someone is critical. I am so sensitive, that a look can set me off. I feel people’s disdain of me even if they think they are hiding it. I read people very clearly. It does not matter who or what the relationship. It does not matter if I love or hate the person. Their intent comes beaming through.

Next time you go to make a comment, try to remember that a large person already knows they are large. Chances are they have spent a lifetime trying to meet other’s expectations and have failed. They may not be strong, and your words will haunt them for days. You have no right to demean someone ever. If you think you are helping them, you are not. Get off your white horse and stop being so pompous. Learn that “right reflexing” (the attempt to take charge of someone else’s change process) does not motivate anyone to change. Understand your motive before you speak. Send love, not hurt.

 

Time to go

I have been pretty quiet here on my blog. There is has been a lot going on and I have not wanted to write because it is pretty depressing. But that is the purpose of this blog; for me to be able to express myself in good times and in bad. So here I am.

It is the end of summer already. Fall has never been a good time for me for some reason. My feeling is that I sense the death of so much in the fall. My garden goes to sleep and many of the beautiful plants will die. The trees will shed all their leaves and the canopy that covers the garden will be gone. It feels so exposed. Many of the birds will leave and the garden will go silent. In my area, we hibernate in the winter as it gets nasty and frigid.

My biggest issue is work. It is very hard for me to deal with betrayal of any kind. I know that is because of the PTSD I have and that in my life, I have had some very significant betrayals. The problem is that you cannot walk around with a sign hanging on you saying, “Victim, handle with care”. I know that I don’t need a sign because predators can find you easily without one. They sniff you out like a walking candy bar.

I completed my course to become a Certified Trauma Professional. I was already certified as a Trauma Specialist. I am not sure what if anything I will do with it. It did a lot of good for me to have more understanding of what and the why’s of the physical and emotional side of why I am the way I am. That was a good thing. I will never be considered at my current employment an expert on anything. We went to a workshop as a group and the speaker did a piece on the ACE study and information on Trauma Informed Care. When she asked questions of the audience, I spoke up with the answers. She thought I was an addiction counselor and started focusing on me during her speech. Not one co-worker at the table asked afterwards why I knew so much.

At work, the fear is palpable. The agency is bleeding money and it is not improving. As the year comes to a close and it is budget season, there is a great amount of worry there will be layoffs and terminations. The clinical visiting staff is leaving in droves. The retention is the worse I have seen in the six years I have been there. My Clinical Educator is leaving after 27 years. I am going to be lost without her, but I absolutely get it. All the senior nurses have left. When I started, the median time of employment was 15 years. There were many people with 20 or more years, but they are all gone. Many have gone to other agencies. Does that not say something?

I could go on and list more but why? My complaining will not change anything.

I learned a long time ago that the wheel of our life keeps turning whether you like it or not. My wheel has turned and it is time to get off this particular spin. Trouble is I am not sure where or what to do next. I have been applying for different jobs all over. I would like to work at home. Truth: I would like to work part time and with a schedule that is mine. But it is a big leap and I know I am afraid. I have been poor and struggled to make ends meet. I do not want to do that again.

 I want to live for myself and my family. I want to not be so stressed all the time. I come home and I am in pain from being in knots all day. I know that the stress is making my situation worse. I do not want to give all to an agency that just as soon dump me out. I understand that it is a job and they owe me nothing but the paycheck. But what a terrible way to go through life. This is what work has become. There is no loyalty on either side. The new generations coming in think they should be CEO’s right off. They do not want to work for old people because they already know everything. And if something brighter and shinier comes along, they are gone.

So as I lay in bed this morning, I realized that I need to figure out what is churning in my soul. I sense betrayal again. I know I am very sensitive. I am done trying to fit into everyone else’s mold of whom and what I should be. It is about time I live for myself. Being a martyr is a waste of time. There is no reward for allowing people to treat you bad and disrespectfully. I honestly feel my confidence has been drained out of me completely by this job. I know my happiness has. There is no sense in keeping on this path.

Sending good energy

 Although we had a ton of flooding of our own this spring, it does not compare to the devastation happening in Texas. I hope this will rally the people to help out and unite our country a bit instead of the hatred and arguing that has been prevalent.

There is a change coming. I am not sure if it is just for me or it is broader. For the last 18 years, I experience this vibration within me when something is going to happen. I think people can sense it because it literally shakes me to the core. But no one actually can sense it I have discovered. I feel like I am shivering but I am not cold.

For the past three weeks, I have been doing this shiver, especially in the morning. It has gotten stronger.

My explanation is that when my world is in transition, the energy around me is  shifting from what is current to a new vibration. Translation: something new is on my horizon but not here yet. During the transition, I sense the vibrational shift. The energy changes causes me to feel the vibration of the unbalanced energy load, much like a washing machine that is unbalanced.

There is nothing I can do to turn it off as I believe the energy  is external. I practice breathing, meditation and other calming techniques. This vibration is not anxiety, although sometimes it is paired with it.

But it does make me out of sorts until it passes. It also make me wonder what is coming. It the past, what has shown up has been losing a job, going through my divorce, selling my house and ending a terrible relationship. All difficult transitions but all came out to a better life situation for me.

The truth is that I do want a change in certain parts of my life. I realized many things while we were on vacation. I am hoping I am attracting a positive new situation for me.

 

My doctor was telling me about this and then I did some research. First of all, this has a very limited weight restriction and not intended for the “very obese or morbidly obese.” And now, surprise, it is killing people. I love her statement:Doctors care about making fat people healthy and not making us disappear.

Dances With Fat

not making us disappearA few months ago I wrote a blog post called “They Want Fat People to Swallow Balloons Now.” In the post, I talked about a fairly new “weight loss” method in which doctors place balloons into people’s stomachs and then fill them with saline. I pointed out that, according to their own literature, in addition to dangerous and miserable side effects, there are at least a couple of ways that it can kill you:

• Death due to complications related to gastric or esophageal perforation is possible.

• Death due to complications related to intestinal obstruction is possible.

While it didn’t really take a psychic to figure out what was going to happen, I still hoped that I was wrong on this one. Heartbreakingly, I was not.

The FDA reports that five people died within a month of having the procedure, and three of the victims died within…

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Proximity

This is an insightful post from one of my favorite bloggers.

Behind the White Coat

Pizza shop in New York City

“I need to do a six month physician supervised weight loss program before I can get the gastric sleeve covered by my insurance.” She wasn’t even that heavy to start off with, her BMI was 32. She wasn’t diabetic and did not have high blood pressure.

“You are going to be married to a fistful of vitamin supplements for the rest of your life.”

“I don’t care. I am tired of being fat, of having people judge me.” I understood. People can be so cruel. “My friends have all had it done and they look great,” she said hopefully. “But I can’t loose too much weight right now or I won’t qualify anymore…”

We both knew she had no intention of really trying.

Sure enough she demonstrated a nice weight gain at each visit and steadfastly refused to count her calories or exercise or do anything except to say, “I’m…

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Who rescued who

  It is no secret that I love animals. These two came to us after they picked us. When visiting the home where they were being fostered, Cookie crawled into my lap and Browny nestled in on my side. We were sealed forever as a family.   After my Heart Dog (one who owns your heart) Bishop passed away, I did not think I would ever feel the same. And I did not when we got the pair. It is different, but it still is love.

 Miss Cookie selected me to be her favorite, although she loves her Dadder. Browny bonded more with him. Browny comes to the Mommer especially when he needs hugs and reassurance, which is often. Mommer also gives him energy massages which he loves.

At first, they would not sleep in our bed. It took a lot for her especially to trust us. They had clearly been abuse as they cringed when someone raised their hand  or held a stick up. There was no tossing sticks for them and it took a long time for them to run after balls, being fearful of the toss. They ran when I had the broom out. It took time and love.

Their personalities are very different. He is hyper and demands a lot of attention. But he is a sweetie.  She now likes to be in my lap as much as possible and has a quirky funny disposition. She is a love.

 She loves to roll in the snow, but hates the rain. She likes to be with someone, especially me.  We spend hours together in the garden. She comes for me promptly at 9:00pm to go to bed.   She is silly and possessive and devoted. We cannot figure out why anyone would hurt these two. Browny has suffered two seizures, booth mild. Other than that they are healthy, active and our loves.

   We do not know their true history and never will. We do know Cookie is slightly older than Browny, maybe. We have had them four years. We figure she maybe around nine if she was really five when we got them. They both have slowed down unless there are squirrels in their yard.

  This morning I woke up to Cookie throwing up on my foot. She has been itching a lot. She has seasonal allergies which have reared every year about this time. There is little we can do except give her low dosage Benadryl and lots of love. She hates the itching and so do I. This morning, she seemed to be very off and I pray there is nothing more wrong. I do not know if I can stand to lose her in such short amount of time and I certainly do not want her to suffer. It was then I realized how much I adore these two. And so, who rescued who?

By the time I finished writing this blog, after I fed them, Miss Cookie seems to be feeling much better.