Avoid Avoiding

I’m an avoider. I avoid stuff. I’m a list writer. I write lists about writing lists.

I found some old journals of mine from when I was in junior high and high school. I have pages and pages of lists. List of what I’m going to be when I grow up. Lists of what I need to do today. Lists of qualities I need to develop. Lists of qualities I have already. Lists of reasons I should be nice to my siblings; lists why shouldn’t. Lists of goals, dreams, accomplishments, reasons for doing things, reasons why I don’t do things, grocery lists, financial plan lists, who I want to marry lists, attributes I want to look for in a husband, list of schools I should go to, what I need to do to get into said schools, etc…the lists go on and on and on.

And the madness continues today. My wall is plastered with sticky notes. I have to write it, (whatever IT is), down to get it out of my head. Once it is written down, then I know I won’t forget about it. I can relax and worry about it later. Unfortunately, having it up on my wall only serves as a constant reminder of the things I’m avoiding.

I avoid my phone. I avoid situations that are uncomfortable. I avoid shopping lines. I avoid processing what I’m going through. I avoid my email. I avoid exercise. I avoid food. I avoid being involved. I avoid thinking about my relationships. I avoid blogging. I avoid cleaning. I avoid waking up early. I avoid sleeping. I avoid calling people back. I avoid communication. I avoid confrontation. I avoid filling my air mattress (my current bed) up with air, so that now I’m faced with the fact that for yet another night my butt will be sinking into the floor because there isn’t enough air in the mattress! I avoid serious conversations. I avoid volunteering. I avoid getting a job. I avoid walking in front of other people. I avoid eating in front of other people. I avoid making mistakes. I avoid trying. I avoid feeling. I avoid meditating.

Instead, I read. I listen to music. I sleep. I watch movies. I play. I read more. I laugh. I go window shopping. I go to the library to get more books to read. I play the piano. I watch sitcoms. I browse the internet to find more things to put on my lists. I read…did I mention that I hate to read…but I discovered it’s effective when there are things you want to avoid.

So, if you put these two idiosyncrasies together, (avoiding & list writing), it makes for one anxious person--one who is painfully aware of what she should be doing, but isn’t doing because she’s busy avoiding doing stuff.

This can only go on for so long…until, I lie awake at night thinking about all the things I’m avoiding and it becomes too overwhelming. So, one by one I start attacking my lists. I begin the arduous task to avoid avoiding.

Wait...or weight

I have never been what someone would call skinny or thin. I'm not fat either. I had nice shoulder, a flat stomach, and strong legs. In college I was an outdoor enthusiast. I would bike in the mountains on the weekends and train for triathlons during the week. I dreamt of someday competing in an Ironman. I knew nothing of eating well, (cookie dough was a main staple) but I knew how to be active and I loved it.

After I was married, my husband commandeered my schedule. And so my life outdoors dwindled and eventually became nonexistent. Then, I was in a horrible car accident, in which my spine and neck were injured. There was a limited amount that doctors could do. I saw a chiropractor who was great and a doctor who did something called prolo-therapy on my spine. Nothing was working. My headaches were worse than ever and I was in constant pain and I couldn't sleep.

In an effort to help heal more quickly, I went on a fast to help the body heal and repair itself. Over a 30 day period, I lost 15lbs (not the objective, but I wasn't complaining) and gained my health back. My headaches went away. (I learned about food allergies that were causing most of them and since I was fasting, those foods were eliminated for a time). My sleep became better and I gain full movement in my neck and back. And my chronic IBS subsided. It's amazing how, given time and the right tools, the body can heal itself.

However, my husband grasped on to this fasting as an 'easy' weight loss method. He wanted me to look picture perfect. He didn't want me to complain about my hips anymore. Or ask him if something made me look fat. He wanted me to feel more comfortable exposing myself--wearing shorter skirts, short shorts, shirts with plunging necklines, skin tight dresses, and be nude on the beach. So, from that point on, he took control of my eating habits. When he was around, he would control what I ate, how I ate it, and how much I ate. If wasn't thin enough (between 135-145lbs), I was put on a diet. If I went a week without losing anything, he would put me back on a fast until I lost the required amount.

Oh, how I hated this aspect of his control! I hated being told what I had to order at a restaurant. Or seeing him watch me carefully, so that I didn't take seconds at dinner. I learned to fear eating and to feel guilty when I did. I also became very uncomfortable eating in front of people.

So, after a while, these fasting sessions turned into fasts and then binges. When he was away on business or back East in school, I would binge. I became a closet carb eater. I would tell him I was staying on track, but the minute he got home, he would see that I had gained weight instead of lost weight. This led him to believe that I couldn't control myself and that me having control of what I was eating was obviously not working, so he would put me back on a fast again.

The longest that he made me fast was 40 days. I think I lost 30 lbs that time. His sister saw me right after this point and even commented on how thin I was. But he went back to school right after that, so I pack on the pounds again.

For me, it was survival. I had to feel I had control over something in my life. And this was one thing that he only had a small amount of control over. He could make me fast, but I could keep myself from getting too thin by binging, and if I kept myself from hitting the perfect goal weight, then I would never have to pole dance or be a stripper or go nude on a beach, or have to create my own porn site for his amusement or be directly involved in a tryst. I could keep myself safe.

At the time, I didn't realize what I was doing. It wasn't a conscience thing. But now that I realize this, I'm am grateful for my survival instincts.

Unfortunately, now I have to deal with the consequences of several years of lack of exercise, binging, and fasting. I think my metabolism is nonexistent. But I have started some things that I know are helpful. I am eating a very clean diet of mostly whole foods. I've given up soda (even on headache days!), most white sugar and flour are out, and I'm running and weight training again. Whoo-hoo!

Laughter is the best medicine

Ugh.

Today is not my favorite day. I have a list of to do's and no motivation to do any of them. I did exercise this morning in hopes that it would give me that needed burst of energy. I didn't. So, after an entire wasted afternoon of being curled up in my blankets, sipping green tea, and watching back episodes of Hellcats, I thought I'd try and be a little bit productive and blog. Though, in the past, writing hasn't been very therapeutic for me. Quite the opposite, actually. I find that it tends to bring up things that I don't want to think about and so I quit when I can't process all the thoughts in my head. Hence, me not blogging at all last month.

This past month has been very difficult. Not only is my own life is disarray, but my family's as well. My Dad's knee is still giving him problems. He had a knee replacement 5 months ago. But it's not healed yet and he has difficulty getting around. He also needs a replacement on the other knee, but the doctors won't consider it until his other one is healed. I can only imagine how frustrating that must be for him. Although I'm not in my peak fitness state, I take it for granted that I CAN just hop up and run away if I wanted. He can't and I'm sure he feels trapped.

Then my mom went into the ER two weeks ago with a ruptured appendix. How random is that!? When I heard she was in the hospital, I jumped in my little car prepared to drive the 4 hours up to Idaho to be there with her when she got out of surgery. Ironically, I hit horrible traffic with construction and it took me 2 hours to just get out of Utah valley, (usually just a 20 minute drive), so I didn't arrive until 10pm. When I walked in, I was happy to see that 3 of my siblings were already there with my Dad and my Mom just seemed to be waking up.

Oh, how I hated seeing my Mom in that hospital bed. I stayed with her every night. She is my bestest and dearest friend, I can't stand the thought of losing her anytime soon. She was released after a few days, but then developed an infection and had to go back in a day later. I think she spent a total of 8 days in the hospital. And now that she's out, she is having gallbladder problems. Good grief! They weren't kidding when they say you start to fall apart after 60. The good thing about it, was that I committed her to start eating healthily and to begin exercise as soon as she can.

I ended up staying up in Idaho for the two weeks. I was grateful for the time with them. They helped me a lot. While I was at the hospital with my Mom, I came to appreciate the nurses. They really work pretty hard. I appreciated how they tried to come to know my Mom and me. One nurse, when she found out what I have been going through, came over and gave me a huge hug. She told me to hang on and I'll find myself again. Then she told me about her story. She survived a 15 year abusive marriage. She said that she was actually kept in her home for 3 years without being able to go out.

It's amazing the bond that seems to be created when abuse victims meet and share stories. I found it so helpful to see what she has done with her life since. She raised her two girls. She became a nurse. She is happy. I like success stories.

While at my Mom's bedside, I also found myself reverting to what I used to do as a child...try and make my mom laugh. So, without really trying, I was telling anecdotes, making fun, and genuinely just being my relaxed and fun self. Amidst one of our laughing sessions, if occurred to me that I enjoyed helping people laugh. It was there that the idea of creating a laughing clinic was born. Who knew that something I did naturally as a child, would perhaps, one day become my calling in life.

Stockholm Syndrome

I'm currently in a group class for women who have been abused. The point of the class is to help us overcome the effects of domestic violence. The course covers various topics that distinguish the differences between what abuse is and then what a healthy relationship should look like.

At first, I was very apprehensive about attending. I didn't think I should be there. I didn't understand or see the extent of the abuse I had been living in. At that point I was still listening to my husband's voice in my head telling me that I am to blame, that I am wrong, that I am crazy and need to be fixed. I approached my therapy with this mindset and entered the this class the same way.

The first day I attended clarified that for me. I didn't say much at first, but as I listened, I was stunned as I found my story being told over and over again by different women in different situations. I kept thinking, "Wow! That's me! Oh! That's my husband!" It took quite a few weeks before I was able to digest and accept that I had been abused and that I was acting like someone who had been abused. That's when the changes inside of me began.

This week's topic was particularly eye opening to me. We discussed the Stockholm Syndrome.

This theory was developed to explain the bizarre behavior that sometimes occurs in people who are kidnapped--in particular their affection for and the attachment to their captors. Hostages whose safety and very lives are at the mercy of cruel and unpredictable captors, sometimes develop very strong bonds with them. this bond can be so strong that one time hostages have been know to visit their captors in jail, try to protect them from punishment, or even become romantically involved with them.

While reading through the distorted thinking and then the explanations I realized that I fell into this category. It was so enlightening to me, that I wanted to include it here for others to read.

First I'll list the distorted thoughts that a victim may have and then the explanation of why those thoughts occur.

1 Cognitive Distortion

Denies Partner's violence against her and focuses on his positive side.

Explanation

An unconscious attempt to find hope (a way to survive) in a situation in which she would otherwise feel powerless and overwhelmed. Victim denies her own anger at the abuser.

2 Cognitive distortion

Feels shame for abuse done to her

Explanation

Takes on abuser's perspective (namely, that she caused his abuse of her and feels that the abuse was deserved). She is hyper vigilant to the abuser's needs. She is intensely grateful for small kindnesses shown to her by the abuser.

3 Cognitive distortion

Resents outsiders to free her from abusive partner

Explanation

Victim knows partner is likely to retaliate against her for any attempts of disloyalty shown toward him so she resists others' attempts to free her or resists holding partner accountable for abusing her. She sees outsiders (for example police, parents) as the 'bad guys' who may get her killed.

4 Cognitive distortion

Identifies with the victim in the partner

Explanation

Projects her own victim status on to partner; feels sympathetic and caring toward partner.

5 Cognitive distortion

Believes partner's violence against her is deserved

Explanation

This may represent an attempt to feel she controls when and whether violence is done to her and permits her to believe she can stop the abuse.

6.Cognitive distortion

Rationalizes partner's violence against her

Explanation

This may be an attempt to maintain bond with partner (in hopes of survival) in the face of violent behavior that otherwise would destroy that bond. Convinces herself she caused the abuse.

7 Cognitive distortion

Feels hatred for that part of her that partner said led to her abuse

Explanation

To improve chances of survival, she internalizes partner's perspective, including reasons he gives her for abusing her.

8 Cognitive distortion

Fears partner will come to get her, even if he is dead or in prison

Explanation

Victim believes partner is going to "get her" because he has done so at least once before; remains loyal in anticipation of his return.

You want what????

I recently got these emails. I was floored, crushed, shook up! It took my brother-in-law a few hours to get me to stop crying and then help me digest and see the email for what it truly was...lies & manipulation to get control of the situation again. Something I think he realized, for the first time, he didn't have anymore.

I share it because I'm finally getting an idea of how much control this man had over me and how many of his lies I really did believe. Most of me sees him for what he is and yet, in weak moments, part of me still sees him out of rose colored glasses--wanting to believe that he is right and that I am wrong, crazy, and that I need to be fixed.

I won't attempt to interpret his words. They speak for themselves. If you understand an abusive situation, you'll see right through it.

My Dearest Jacquee,

I would like to withdraw from the divorce if you would also. If so, will you attend counseling with me?

My parents told me you called about an open adoptive relationship. I'm not the one making the decisions, but I am glad regardless of your marriage intentions. Have you considered dropping legal action? We both know the adoption never had anything to do with divorce.

I miss you, I love you and I always will.

P.S. I believe in miracles and am willing to work to make them happen in and for both of us.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UkyTj0Tr3fE

Jacquee,

You know I didn't sign for the adoption for social security money. You convinced me I had no other choice than to do what was best for the children. I can't undo the adoption, but I can work on our marriage and dedicate my life to helping both you and I heal. I'm willing to make whatever changes are necessary.

I was dying. I know you didn't know it, but its true and the worst part was believing I had reached the end, with my family destroyed. I'm alive today because of a miracle. Now I want another miracle. I want to save our marriage! Please don't let either of us die as failures, regardless of when death comes for us. I know now that it can happen at any time. Please let us both right our wrongs, seek individual and mutual healing, and either live our lives successfully or die on empty trying, not with regrets, not with regrets.

I've learned that fight or flight is a false dichotomy, there is also peace. In total humility and a sincere heart, I am coming to you to beg you to have peace with me. I also beg you to please allow me to give you the greatest gift I have to offer: me, all of me, only me and everything that comes with me, forever.

No matter what you did, no matter what I did, no matter what our weaknesses or anything else, I believe we can heal. I'm going against all counsel but I'm willing to defy them all to believe in you because above all, I believe in our eternal marriage. Am I wrong? Am I wrong to believe we can start over? Only you can tell me and the only time we have is now.

Isn't there anything you wish you could go back and do over? I know for me there are mountains of things. I think this letter is one of those "Glass House" moments, which is why I'm writing it. There is a better story than our divorce story: its our reconciliation and true love story. Will you write it with me? I've learned that fight or flight is a false dichotomy, there is also peace.

Bethany and Audrey are safe with my parents. I can only fully give myself to you if the adoption proceeds and I know the children are not at risk again. Will you please withdraw from all legal actions, allow peace a chance and attend counseling with me? I promise you that you won't regret giving our marriage a second chance. I will wait with love. If you continue with legal action I will say my goodbye with gratitude in my heart for the love we shared.

Please light up my beautiful lighthouse keeper. This is it.

Love,

P.S. I've included just one paragraph of volumes that I've written about what I would have done differently: "...I would have humbly accepted my own faults apologized for them and committed to changing them. I would have never let you walk out the door the day you wanted a divorce without first giving you a passionate kiss and only let you go after packing you shrimp tikka masala and a diet coke for the road. If you still wanted to leave, I would have jumped in the car with you and rubbed your neck while softly singing "Drink up Baby" aswe drove away together. I would have suggested that we stop and get you a hair cut, I mean completely chopped :) and then dye it blond! I would have then suggested you pick out whatever dress you'd like and showered you with amazingly thoughtful compliments regardless of the dress. I would have reminded you of your unsurpassed beauty at any weight. I would have asked you if I could call your boss to tell her YOU QUIT, but I would add that she can keep her money and her job, but I'm keeping you! I would have LISTENED more. Whenever storms came or you flipped in either direction, I would have held steady. I would have attended regular therapy with you for mental health and marriage, always separated the two issues and overcame all challenges. No matter what, I would have held you, looked you in the eyes and reassured you that not only am I willing to hold on, I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU."

If you still wanted to go, I would wait and see if you would come back to me for me like I would come back to you for you. I would learn. I would wait to see if you would remember.

If there was nothing else I could do, then I would sing and say my goodbye.

P.S.S. I violated counsel by communicating during a lawsuit but I cannot do so again unless you're willing to withdraw and would like to plan on counseling thereafter together.

My response should have been a single email with this link:

But I didn't respond at all.

I feel I need to clarify some things. His emails aren't as kind and loving as they may appear at first glance. His message is clear--STOP THE LEGAL PROCEEDINGS, JACQ! And then, only then, will I give you all the thing I know that I never allowed you to have before. He wants to appear that he is sorry, and maybe he is in a way, but if he were, he would stop the adoption process (which he has total control over) and then truly be penitent. He wouldn't still be trying to 'fix me'. It's the same abuse cycle over and over. Tension in the relationship mounts. He blames the tension on me. He does something hurtful (verbal abuse, emotional abuse or sexual abuse). He feel very bad. He tries to make it better with words, promises to change, gifts, freedom, love, and the acceptance I crave. I forget/ignore the abuse and get sucked back in. Life happens and stress arises. Tension builds in the relationship...and off we go in a cyclical spiral of toxicity.

Am I growed, up yet?

When my brother Kris and I were little, he was asked what he wanted to be when he grew up. His response was, "A Christmas tree!" I see the logic. I really do. Who wouldn't want to be bright, colorful, and shiny; a spectacular sight to behold whenever you walk into the room. It's also something that is rare and special, for it only comes once a year.

I've always loved this question. When I was in the dating scene, it's something I always asked guys, regardless of whether they were currently in a career or not. I guess I never thought anyone could ever really grow up.

So, I asked my daughter, Bethany, this same question when she was about 2 1/2. A little early, perhaps, to be asking, but you never know how profound a child can be. Her response to me was, "a coco puff." I'm afraid to admit, I was quite baffled by this. I didn't know how to respond either. I didn't want to damage her little self esteem by laughing, though that's exactly what I wanted to do, but I didn't want to ignore her answer either. Goodness! I didn't even know she knew what a coco puff was--I never allowed her to eat sugary cereals. So, I decided to say, "Wow that's so great!" and then just note that one in her journal and ask her again when she was a little older...and perhaps, wiser?

One afternoon, (1 1/2 years later), while I was putting the girls down for their naps, Bethany asked me, "Mommy, what do you want to be when you growed up?" This question seemed to come out of the blue, until I realized we had talked, a couple of days before, about why Daddy was at Harvard.

I responded with, "Well, I want to be a Mommy and maybe someday a doctor."

She studied me very carefully for a few moments before her eyes welled up with great big crocodile tears. Then she burst out, "Oh Mommy! You can't be a doctor! 'Cause then who will take care of us?"

I immediately saw the connection she had made with Daddy going away to school to 'become' something and me wanting to become a doctor--and that would mean, to her, that I would go away. I gathered her up in my arms as I wiped away the tears. I soothed her by telling her I will always be there to take care of her--I'm not going anywhere. And that I won't be a doctor for a very, very long time, if ever--it was just something I wanted to secretly do someday.

After she was assured I wasn't going anywhere, I then asked her if she knew what she wanted to be when she grew up.

Her response, "I'm already growed up! But when I get big, like you, I want to be a painter, a runner, a singer and a dancer.

And I believe she will.

It's startling to realize I've already grown up, too. I'm not in my teens or 20's anymore. (I don't think I can even pretend and lie about my age either!) I'm at the stage in life, when I should be contributing to society. And here I still find myself asking the question, "What do I want to be when I grow up?" That's a hard question for me to answer outright because in the past I have wanted to do and be so many things. I think I can truly say I'm a Jacq of all trades. The thing is, before I was married, I knew that anything I put my mind to do, I could do. It didn't matter to me what it was, if I wanted it bad enough, I would go after it with all the gusto in the world and I would make it happen--I believed in myself and my abilities. Sometimes I would fail, but that didn't matter so much to me. I would just try something else and succeed.

My husband dashed my dreams. He would tell me my ideas were impossible. He would say he was being realistic while I was being idealistic. In order to 'help' me achieve and succeed, he would hash around my goals and ideas until they didn't resemble anything I had envisioned. And then I would see that he was right, I couldn't achieve it. I was defeated before I even tried.

Soon my 'idealistic views' became a sign to him. It confirmed that I was bi-polar. He would call this my 'grandiose thinking'. He put such a negative spin on it, that I came to believe that he was right. And a trait, that I had once believed was something great about myself, was now something I was scared and ashamed of. So, I stopped dreaming. I stopped being motivated. I stopped being someone that could accomplish things.

I find myself now, faced with becoming. And to my amazement, my old self is re-emerging. I have found myself wanting to be and do great and amazing things in my life. When these thoughts first came into my mind a few weeks ago I was terrified. I thought, "oh no! My husband is right! I'm having grandiose ideas and thoughts! I have to control them and bring myself back down to reality." But then I was forced to think of what my reality is. I didn't know. What would be something I could accomplish and become without thinking too 'grand'?

I took this question to my therapist, this week. I told her the dilemma I was faced with. Feeling that I could now choose and accomplish something great, but not wanting to be bi-polar in my thoughts and ideas.

She smiled, then gently guided my thoughts to help me clearly see what a bi-polar grandiose mania phase would look like. She illustrated the difference of what I was feeling and thinking and what I wasn't.

It was the first time in 5 years that I saw that my husband was unmistakably wrong. Truly wrong about me being crazy, delusional, manic. This was a breakthrough for me. For me to see he was wrong about me, it clicked that I'm not broken and that I wasn't to begin with.

So, now the world is open to me, once again. I have more than just a hope that I can be whatever I choose to be and do whatever I choose to do, but I know that I can and will achieve great things in my life, no matter the hurdles I have to jump through.

Rainbows

I was driving last week from Idaho (where my parents live) back to Utah. The weather was overcast and off in the distance I could see the clouds looked like they were falling out of the sky, signifying that it was raining. It was slightly windy and occasionally I would feel the wind trying to push my car off the side of the road. After an hour of my 4 hour drive, I noticed that the western sky had cleared up and the sun was radiating down. I looked off to my left toward the falling clouds and saw a magnificent rainbow! I slowed slightly and breathed in the sight. How marvelous, I thought! And that cheered up my day a little. I drove on, turning my head every few seconds until the rainbow disappeared.

Another hour went monotonously by (my radio doesn't work, so I'm either singing or talking to myself on long trips). As I came into Utah and hit the Wasatch Mountain range, I looked over at their majesty. I love these mountains. And at that particular moment, they were made even more beautiful by another rainbow. This one was only a half rainbow, but it was very, very bright. I was so happy to have seen two in the same day. Again, I watched as the rainbow disappeared.

I let my mind ponder on rainbows, and I was struck with the thought that perhaps the rainbows were a sign. I tried to think what the sign might mean. Mulling over possible solutions, the only conclusion was that I should have followed them and see if there were really a pot of gold at the end!

I was amazed that by the end of my journey that day, I had seen a total of 5 rainbows. One was even a vibrant double rainbow, which I wished I had of had my camera with me to take a picture of it. And yet out of all those rainbows, I never left the road I was traveling to go search for what was at it's end.

I wonder if that makes me smart and focused or just a boring and a jaded adult.

I remember seeing a rainbow about a year ago and calling to my girls to come look and see. I pointed up in the sky and said look at that! They were so excited. I told them that they CareBears were here! Then they really got excited! They started jumping up and down and splashing in the puddles! Taking on their enthusiasm, I did the same.

The next time there was a rainbow, my daughter went to the closet, grabbed an umbrella, and stated that she was going to go look for CareBears. I gave her her coat and let her loose. She came back a little disappointed and said she must have missed them.

The last time we saw a rainbow together, we went in search of CareBears together. The minute we saw the rainbow, we ran to the car with umbrellas in hand and races to the edge of the rainbow...which happened to be at the mouth of a canyon. We raced, hand in hand, looking and searching for the elusive CareBears. My daughters were so excited, they couldn't help but laugh, jump, and run in circles. At last, one of them exclaimed, "LOOK! I see one!" She pointed with her little fingers up into the mountains and that last shimmering sparkles of the rainbow. We all crouched down and looked up to where she was pointing. We all imagined that for a brief moment there were CareBears lurking about, playing, laughing, and dancing. We then drove home as happy as anyone could be.

I love seeing the world through the eyes and imaginations of children!