Stalled Labor

I had a dream Tuesday night. I was pregnant and in labor. And in labor. And in labor. For days. The labor was not progressing. I kept asking the nurses to check me and see if I was getting any closer but I wasn't. I was really frustrated. Then I made a tiny bit of progress and I remembered how much the epidural hurt. All of a sudden I began to feel really terrified about giving birth and I didn't want that baby to come out at all.

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In dreams, being pregnant symbolizes an aspect of yourself that is growing and developing. You may not be ready to talk about it or act on it. It may also represent the birth of a new idea, direction, project or goal. So the fact that my labor is stalled means this goal is something I'm having trouble bringing about. Yet when I make some progress, the fear of the pain makes me not want to have the baby at all. This made such absolute perfect sense to me because it's exactly where I'm at in my life.

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I was in a really lousy mood on Weds, as evidenced by my last post. Tuesday evening I was triggered by an event which progressed into a barrage of self-hatred, beating myself up for everything I am and everything I do. I was sharing this with Susan on Weds night and describing the frustration of not being able to pull my life together. I'm unhappy with so many things, I feel like I'm constantly in some state between disorder and disaster. I can't focus on anything. For instance: I want to sit down and pay the few bills that can't be done online. I pick up the bills, I go to sit down at the table. Bianca has her toys all over the table. I begin to pick them up and then I see she's taken off her socks and left them on the floor which reminds me I have to do the laundry so I go upstairs to get the rest of the dirty clothes when I remember I never put that box in the attic. I drop the socks, go into the attic where I see a box of craft supplies which reminds me Jen and I were going to take stock of what we had and see if we could pool & sell it. So I take that box down from the attic and put it on the table where I was preparing to sit & pay my bills and then I'm flustered and overwhelmed. So I have something to eat and do nothing. I describe the same type of things at work. I seem easily overwhelmed and like I'm going in circles, never making any significant headway. And then I feel disgusted and ashamed that I can't seem to do what I need to do. So I put it all away in denial-land where I stuff it down firmly with food and engage in some useless, mindless activity which then solidifies the belief that I'm a useless piece of crap. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

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Susan asks me the question I dread. Do you think this has anything to do with your addiction? She tells me what I described is a classic addict behavior. I've done some web searching but not really come up with any model of "classic addict" signs. I do see that addiction to any substance contributes to anxiety, avoidance, being easily overwhelmed. Maybe that's what she means.

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"Food addiction is a contemporary term used to describe a pathological disorder; the compulsive, excessive craving for and consumption of food. This condition is not only manifested by the abnormal intake of food, but the intake and craving for foods that are, in themselves, harmful to the individual. While society and the medical profession have readily understood alcoholism and drug abuse, it is only in recent years that there is an equal acceptance of the fact that persons may be addicted to food in the same way. (I'd argue that point....but that's just me) When any substance is taken into the body regardless of its potential for harm or in excess of need, that substance is said to be abused. Individuals who abuse substances in such a way are addicts; these persons become physiologically and mentally dependent upon certain substances, in this case food. Food addiction, as with any other addiction, is a loss of control. The individual understands that their way of eating is harmful, but continues the destructive behavior. The phenomenon of food addiction is both physiological and psychological. Many individuals have what may be termed 'food allergies.' These are trigger foods which when ingested cause negative symptoms and changes in the body but at the same time provoke cravings. The individual, for instance, the diabetic, may be made 'sick' by the intake of sugar, but will still continue to crave it and eat it in excess, with adverse effects. These chemicals mimic the body’s natural painkillers, endorphins, and have thus been termed 'exorphins' which produce a narcotic-like effect. Individuals may be suffering from depression, low self-esteem or loneliness; they will find a high when ingesting large quantities of food or certain foods such as salt or chocolate. The immediate high gives way to a sick feeling or guilt, leading to more depression. Because the addict is out of control, he or she will turn once again to the same eating patterns in a conscious or unconscious effort to feel better."

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That pretty much says it. I want this cycle to stop but I don't know how to make it stop. And I don't know where to turn. I want to do it myself because that's just my MO. Do it yourself. Be strong. Be self-sufficient. Be *Perfect*. Don't need anyone or anything. Don't lean on anyone. Don't open up to or be vulnerable to anyone. It leads only to rejection and pain and strengthens my perceived need to isolate. My horrible experience with Renfrew was a perfect example of why I don't want to reach out for help. Yet I sit here ready to admit, IN MY HEAD, that I cannot do this alone. I am at that point where I can accept, IN MY HEAD, that I am powerless over the addiction. Yet, in my HEART, I still want to believe I can do it. I can make it work. I am strong enough to beat it. And every day I have this battle realizing my head knows where it's at but feeling like a failure because I can't defeat this by myself. All the while **terrified** to reach out for help. Terrified to fail. Terrified to change. Terrified to succeed. Part of me is so ready and the other part of me wants to bury my head in the sand.

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When I think about the logistics of it, I am definitely overwhelmed. Food addiction is something that's NOT widely accepted as an addiction. In the eating disorder community, it's still characterized as "Eating Disorder; Not Otherwise Specified." Heath insurance carriers don't recongnize it as an addiction and therefore programs and payments are severely limited. There are a couple eating disorder clinics around here but they don't offer the same programs for food addicts as they do for, say, anorexics and bulemics. So where does this leave me? Here are my options to consider in some combination:

1. Overeaters Anonymous (OA) which is a viable option and I'm looking into meetings. Last I looked, the local meetings were not conducive to my schedule. But I'll look again. And, there is that whole "higher power" thing that still makes me want to cringe and run screaming. I'm going to try to look past that right now.

2. A psychiatrist versed in eating disorders who may be able to prescribe medication(s) with proven results in cutting down cravings.

3. A nutritionist, again versed in eating disorders, who can "represent" food for me and help me attempt to establish a healthy relationship with food, something I have never had.

4. Holistic/Natural remedies. I am strongly driven to try acupuncture as a stress reliever, energy mover and an assistance to my recovery.

5. Energy Tapping to also help in changing or removing the energy associated with my cravings and urge to binge.

6. Counseling, of course, as continued support in my recovery and to help in learning new coping tools.

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Okay, so #5 & #6 - no brainers. Easy to accomplish. #1 is going to be a challenge but I will give it a try. Susan did say that if I can get to a number of OA meetings in the beginning I could then switch over to AA or AlAnon meetings since they use the same 12 step program. They are generally easier to find. If I can get to one that is local to my office then I don't have to worry about child care and that alleviates a huge obstacle. She did, however, suggest the "90 in 90" which is 90 meetings in 90 days, generally considered as an alternative for people who are unable to go to a traditional rehab facility. I don't know about that.

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#2 - the thought of trying to find this type of person, of telling my story and talking about my addiction with a stranger AND taking more meds really doesn't appeal to me on any level. But having reduced cravings does sound good. Still, I think I will put this one at the bottom of my list and resort to it if #4 & #5 don't help. #3 - oh yuck. Yuck. Yuck. The most I can consider for this one right now is to talk to a friend of mine who works in that field. #4 is something I really desperately want to give 100% to trying. It presents an enormous logistical challenge in location, timing and expense. In any case, I just left a voicemail for the natural health center to call me back. I mean....if I'm going to make a commitment to doing this, then I just need to do whatever is necessary. My boss is super cool and I know he would give me leeway with hours & time off if I need it.

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Key words here "if I'm going to make a commitment to this." Am I? Because every time I think I'm ready, I talk myself out of it within hours and conveniently lable the prior resolve as a moment of temporary insanity. I think I'm really afraid to fail. I have enough shame already just being what I am. I don't know if I can take the added shame of failing in my attempt to be something better. I think I don't believe that I CAN be different anymore. And I'm really scared to let go of my addiction because it serves as my friend, my relationship, my comfort, my shield and my protection. Despite the fact I know it's hurting me immensely and robbing me of health, joy and life, I'm really afraid to be out in the world without my security-blanket. I know I can't change if I don't try but I'm so afraid to try that I feel near paralyzed.

Do you ever just have one of these days where you simply cannot stand one thing about yourself and you really wish you could just get away from you?? I'm so there right now.

Selling My Survival

I love dreams. I think they are fascinating in their symbolism. I've become an amateur dream guru. I don't often remember my dreams, unfortunately. When I do, I take great delight in deciphering them. Well the one I had last night just didn't give me a challenge at all! It was so obvious, it was ridiculous. It did make me laugh, though, in the plain talk of it's message.

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My father grew up in an old farmhouse. His whole dysfunctional family lived there many years. He moved out when he married my Mom; his parents and sister stayed. There was a barn with horses, which were my passion when I was younger. My brother and I spent many summers there. My grandparents slept downstairs. My Aunt's room and a guest room were upstairs. I slept on a roll out bed in my Aunt's room and my brother was in the next room. My Aunt worked the night shift and therefore didn't get home until about 2am. You can see the kind of freedom and opportunity that afforded my brother to abuse me on a regular basis.

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In my dream, this house was for sale and I desperately wanted to buy it. I was looking around at it's state of disrepair thinking "I can fix this, I can fix that. I can replace those. I can make this work." Every single thing was crumbling, filthy, falling apart. I was trying to hide things that were broken and playing down the seriousness of the homes condition. My BFF was there and my contractor Dave was also there. I looked to Dave and I said "What do you think? We can make this work, right?" He shook his head and said "Don't do it."

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At the same time, I was trying to figure out how I was going to get the money to buy this house I was still so determined to buy. I found a small curio cabinet that was filled with tiny figurines of wolves. I took two of them and I drove down the road where there was an Indian at the side of the street. I pulled over and tried to sell these wolf figures to him. He asked me if I was sure and, when I said yes, he paid me a great deal of money for them. I returned to the house and looked at the remaining figurines again. Although I knew I could sell them to pay for the house, I suddenly realized how valuable they were and knew it was not worth giving them up to buy this house that was falling down.

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So the first part of the dream.....completely obvious. My abusive past, trying to cover it up, trying to fix it. The second part still made sense but I wasn't sure about the symbolism of wolves and indians so I looked them up in my trusty dream dictionary. Wolves symbolize survival and Indians represent the primitive and instinctual aspect of yourself. So I was trying to "sell" my survival to hold onto my past and the Indian, my instincts, made me realize that the "wolves" were too valuable to let go of. Great dream. Great lesson.

Tapping into Grief

Just when you least expect it....there is a breakthrough moment.

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I had T this morning. Went with only a minor agenda of talking about the card from my brother and discussing father's day. Let me start with the card from my brother part (story in my prior post). I told Susan that I evaluated the card, thought there was an ulterior motive behind it and then just kind of put the whole thing aside. I felt like there should have been a more emotional reaction to it and I stayed open to that but it never really happened. Often, when I've not connected emotionally to something, when I talk about it in therapy I will make the connection there. When I discussed it with Susan, I felt the same way as I did when I got the card. She actually told me that she felt this was very positive. I'm reacting from a here and now, adult perspective and it doesn't appear I'm repressing anything about it. Excellent!

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We discussed Father's Day and that Bianca had done pretty well with it. I talked about the feelings I have toward Bianca's bio-father and how I have trouble wrapping my brain around the fact that he has nothing to do with her. I wonder sometimes if he ever thinks about her, wonders about her. It's difficult for me to accept that I will never know the truth and hard for me to let that go. Not in my control-craving nature. Susan asked me what if Bianca had a father who had died when she was a baby? How would I deal with that? I said that would be a million times easier to explain. It's easier to tell her that she had a dad who loved her but now he's in heaven. It's easy to find a million books for kids on how to deal with the grief of a deceased parent. But how do you explain that there is a living, breathing parent who has just chosen to reject her? Susan said that I would have empathy for her if the situation were a dead father but that I'm fully triggered by the idea of rejection and the way I feel and act are because of my own unresolved issues. Dammit! We're almost in a cycle where Bianca has legitimate thoughts about fathers but then it sets me off and she feeds off that so we keep going round and round. I said I just don't want her to end up like me. Everytime I think I'm working past my father issues, I'm reminded that I still have more work to do. In my heart, I still feel responsible for my father's abuse and rejection of me.

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Susan reminded me that my own father experience had nothing to do with ME. It's all about my father and HIS issues. Yes, I know this......in my head. It's intellectual. Clearly I don't accept it in my heart. Still. I thought I was past this. Susan asked me what I meant when I said I don't want Bianca to end up like me. What kinds of things am I thinking, feeling and picturing in my head? I said I was feeling fear, afraid that she would become promiscuous and foolish the way that I had been, doing anything for male attention to fill that void, to feel loved or lovable. She asked what feelings came up in me for my situation with my own father? Trying to access my feelings kept resulting in going back to my head, to intellectualizing. When I was able to let it down, I said "Grief. I feel grief." And I said "I know why he did what he did.....but I just wanted a Dad." *Sob*Sob*Sob*

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Susan suggested I do energy tapping around the statement I made to try to help release some of those emotions. I did and absolutely gushed tears the entire process. In fact, 3 hours later, I'm still crying. After the tapping work with her, I felt exhausted and just sad. I know I did some serious emotional grieving work. After writing this, but before publishing it, I ended up taking a nearly 3 hour nap. Unheard of for me.....I really drained myself.

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I have to put in a quick funny....I unconsciously hold my breath alot in T when I'm holding my emotions in. When Susan asked me to get in touch with my feelings about my father, I guess I was doing it again. Susan said "Breathe, for heavens sake!! Sometimes I think you could scuba dive without an oxygen tank when I see how long you sit here without taking a breath!!"

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As I was driving home, I was mulling things over. I often say that I feel guilty or responsible for Bianca not having a father. I just realized that my guilt stems from my feeling unlovable.....feeling that I wasn't good enough for her bio-father, for her "Dad" or even for my own Dad to love me, to choose me. And now she has to pay the price for my inferiority. Emotional work sucks. No wonder I avoid it.

As If.......

I've mentioned in recent posts that I just had a birthday and was on vacation. While away, I had my neighbor pick up my mail. When I caught up with my neighbors and got the mail from them, I had a few surprises. Checks...oooh! Checks are good, especially after vacation! A birthday card from my dear friend and blogging buddy Enola. Thanks!! And...what's this now? Eyes widen, hands shake. Another birthday card, familiar writing. But what the hell?? It's from my brother. My brother....one of my abusers....who I've not seen or spoken to in 4 1/2 years now.
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Allow me to back up a little. I used to have an overwhelming compulsion to take care of my mother and her feelings. It's something I was basically taught to do as a child and it carried over. Out of some misguided loyalty to her, I used to send generic birthday and christmas cards to my brother and his (soon-to-be-ex) wife. Until December of 2006.
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In December of 2006, my brother sent me an email. A short, "normal", "hey-how-ya-doin?" email. It really threw me for a loop. I printed it out and went to my T session all hot & bothered.
"How dare he send this? He has no business sending me a 'normal' email after what has transpired between us."
"Why not?", asks Susan. "Didn't you just send him a 'normal' birthday card?"
Oh.
Susan went on to tell me that I'd been acting "As If".
I said "As if WHAT?"
She said "Exactly....as if...what? As if things are fine? As if you are his sister and want to have a sibling relationship? As if the past no longer matters enough to stop you from being part of his life?"
Wow. I never in a million thought of it like that. Never thought about the message I was sending by simply attempting a "keep the peace" move for my mother's sake. At that point, I had to take a stance for myself. Not only did I not reply to his email but I never again sent him another card.
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Now things have gone on pretty status quo since then but recently my Mother had an epiphany about my brother. (See post here) She's no longer interacting with him in the same way, if at all. So my two immediate thoughts on the motive behind this birthday card were: #1 - he's sending me this card in hopes I will tell my Mom and she'll have second thoughts about what a lech he is, or #2 - he's trying to get on my good side so that, if my Mom dies, I'll give him some of her estate. I'll respond with a literal "AS IF" to that one!! Yeah, right.
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In the past, my brother used to sign all his cards for me "Hatred, Gregory" Now, the hatred part, as charming as it is, is not the bothersome portion of that signature. His name is not Gregory. But he'd sign the cards as this alternate persona, a character if you will. One who used to abuse me. Almost removing himself from any personal relationship with me. This card he just sent is signed "Happy Bday Sis. Love, Bro." WTF?? "Love Bro"???? Biology may dictate that I'm stuck with you as my brother but there is no LOVE involved. I just don't understand what he's thinking.
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I'm not sure I understand what I'm thinking, either. I described it as feeling Nothing. But Something. I know I feel some sort of way about it but I don't think I want to know what it is yet so right now, I'm choosing to feel nothing. Numb works for the moment. In fact, Numb is necessary at the moment.

Fathers, Fathers, Fathers

In light of this months blog carnival theme, I went looking for a prior post that would fit the bill. Lord knows that posts containing "father content" are plentiful in my little snippet of the blogosphere. Perhaps it's the multi-tasker in me, but I tend to wrap more than one topic into a post so many were only partially applicable. One post I found was great for the carnival...apparently it was so great for the carnival that I'd already submitted it last year. :o) So here I am, one day to go til submission deadline, and I've got some serious bloggers-block.
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While I perused "father issues" posts from the past 16 months I came across alot of valuable things. Some things a reminder on what I need to focus on and other things a realization of what I've accomplished. Father issues are prevalent in my life. Starting with my own father and carrying over into Bianca's lack of a father.
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From an old post: There is no point of my trying to talk to my father again. I have said all I can say to him. We (my T & I) discussed the idea of forgiveness and what it means to me. I came down to expressing that it means a release of the memories, thoughts and pain that hold me hostage. I said I understand that in my brain but it just doesn't really translate. The question I posed at the end of my homework was "what do I gain by holding this pain so tightly to my heart?" As T began to speak to this, I was FLOODED with emotion and burst into tears. I realized that this pain is ALL I HAVE of my father. And once I let it go, I have NO father. And no hope of things ever becoming different. It's that last thread of hope. That blasted unrealistic shred of HOPE that the piece of damaged, demented, sick, twisted, cold-hearted crap I called "Dad" could actually turn into a decent person and try to make it all up to me. This pain is our only connection. And I don't know how to release that without falling apart.I guess the answer is that I actually need to allow myself to fall apart. I have to let those emotions come through me to let them go. And I need to grieve.
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I'm happy to say that I feel I've made some progress in my own father pains. Ever since I wrote the "Dear Father" letter, I've been able to let some things go. I don't think I realized that until I began this post, so that's positive! But then again, it's hard for me to tell how much progress is made because I project my own stuff onto issues with Bianca's father & "daddy".
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Her father issues are tougher than ever. She is at an age where she is aware of the difference between her family dynamic and that of her friends. She speaks of her Daddy frequently. I've been doing my best to field the comments and questions with sensitivity and honesty but it's a highly emotional issue and I feel so inadequate in my replies. As I look back over the many posts highlighting her struggles, I see some recurring themes:
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* Regret over not using better judgment with my Ex
* A gut reaction of feeling like I need to run out and get married just to get her a Daddy
* Wanting her to have "more" than I did as a child
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I realize that none of these are particularly rational but I do see them as things I get wrapped up in. In fact, I didn't realize how much I get wrapped up in them until I read all these posts in one sitting. It's an eye opener for me that I need to let go of those unproductive thoughts and only focus on the things I can exert at least a modicum of control over.
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You know, I think I've done alot of overall work on the father situations. I've done some grieving work with my own father. I've put Bianca's bio-father into perspective as basically a sperm donor. I have the most trouble with my XBF, the man Bianca knew as "Daddy" for 2 1/2 years. I guess it's because that is the one that she clings to and the one I'm trying to explain the disappearance of to her.
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I guess what remains is merely the “father fantasy”. The "Daddy's Little Girl" images that catch my eye. The Dad in the park with his little girl up on his shoulders; the one in church with his daughter climbing onto his lap. The fantasy that all Dads love, cherish, comfort, protect. And stay. As a parent myself, I have a really, really difficult time wrapping my mind around rejecting your child. Somehow I need to come to a different grip with that in my head. I continue to open up this painful wound, MY father wound. I continue to feed the pain, the loss and the longing. What I am doing is setting a script for Bianca that says: “You have a father out there who doesn’t want to be part of your life.” If I characterize it as a rejection, that he doesn’t want her, then I will define her life and her worth as such. She doesn’t need to grow up this way. It's bad enough that I did.

Vacation

Well, we're back from vacation. We got back Friday evening. I had hopes of catching up on everyone else's blogs while away but that never happened! I didn't even post on my own blog or read any of the books I brought. We did have a great time, though.

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We go to this same rental house every year so it's become a second home for me. Last summer it was over 100 degrees which is totally uncharacteristic of New England in early June. This year, the weather was right where it should be which made for a much more pleasant visit. It was in the low 70's during the day and around 50 at night. Ideal! We spent a day in downtown Portsmouth, popped over to Maine for an afternoon, went to Storyland amusement park, Squam Lakes Science center, Childrens Museum. On my birthday, we went to Weirs Beach, played in the arcades, mini-golf, went to Kellerhaus for ice cream sundae bar, shopping, went to dinner at one of my fave local spots where I enjoyed the steak I've been craving for months! We went to the drive in movie and saw UP which was cute. All in all, a great birthday.

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My BFF was up for a few days and was nice enough to share her germs with me so we both ended up with bronchitis. So the last few days of vaca were spent largely on the couch in front of a fire watching movies with Bianca. It was okay, though, because the weather had turned cold and rainy by that point. I was able to find a local Dr to give me some anti-biotics and was feeling better by the time we had to come home.

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Unfortunately, once I got home, I am now all off kilter. I couldn't sleep the first night. Bianca is way off schedule and not sleeping well either. I ended up with an injury that I'm going to skip the details of except to say it's causing me intense pain and making mobility very challenging. I'm coughing more today, presumably lack of sleep knocking me back a step in recovering. I have a terrible headache. For some reason, I got really messed up in taking my anti-anxiety meds while away and I think I'm down several doses over the 10 day period. I seemed to be taking them about every 36 hours instead of every 24. I think I forgot one yesterday but I'm not sure. I just feel all messed up. It's 2pm, I'm still in my PJs and I need to go grocery shopping & cook for the week. I don't know where I'm going to find the energy. Let's not even talk about how I'm going to rise at 5am tomorrow and return to work. It seems incomprehensible at this moment.