Fear is the mindkiller...
Dec. 10th, 2004 10:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shadowkatThat phrase comes from Dune and for some odd reason popped into my head on Thursday night while I was wrestling with sleep.
It was one phrase admist dozens in my jumble of thoughts. And it has been a stressful week - possibly because I've attempted to cram so many errands within it and work is very stressful right now. To explain why work is stressful would involve a lengthy explaination of what I do, and every time I attempt it - I find myself floundering for the correct words. Usually what ends up happening is someone will repeat back to me something they do, which they believe is similar, and I'll end up gasping - 'uh no, uh no, that's not it...' then just throw up my hands and give up. Had the same problem explaining to people what I wanted to do and why I wasn't doing something else they thought I should be doing.
Do you ever get the feeling during a conversation that there's three conversations going on simultaneously? The one you are having in your head with the other person, the one they are having in their head with you, and something in between the two? As if every word you are saying is being interpreted by them in a way you never meant it to be interpreted? Or slightly askew from what you meant? I guess that's why word usage and choice is so vital. So much easier in written speech than oral - which has a tendency to get shortened. Yet oral unlike written, has the advantage of body language.
At any rate, the failure to communicate wasn't exactly what I intended to ramble on about tonight - yet, somehow it does tie into my theme - fear.
Tomorrow I am visiting kidbro in Beacon. Am slightly anxious about this visit.
Why? you ask. Shouldn't I be excited? After all I am visiting my beloved niece, delivering Xmas gifts that I bought with my heart not my head, and getting out of this wretched city for a day. (Okay, stopping here to state - I do not hate NYC. Like most New Yorkers, I have a love/hate relationship with the city. And yes, I consider myself a New Yorker now - I walked through
9/11, smelled the ash, I lived through the black-out, and I've lived or worked in four of the five boroughs. I also think of Upstate NY as well, WestChester. That said, I have not been outside New York City since my drive up to Albany sometime in May or was it June? Can't remember.) So why the nerves?
Ah. It comes back to communication I suppose. Kidbro and I suffer from a failure to communicate. And it is desperately important to me to establish a relationship with my neice Cedar. Yet with Kidbro - I feel at times, as if, we are talking at what our perceptions of one another are, as opposed to with one another. It's almost as if we both have a preconcieved notion of what we want from the other party, what we fear the other party thinks, and what we think the other party wants feels or knows. And both make descisions regarding how we respond to each other based on these assumptions. I fear screwing up.
But I've been fearing screwing up for an awfully long time. It's funny a while back someone commented in my live journal about how it appeared to them that I was continuously putting myself down, they didn't understand why I was afraid at work. IT seemed I was contradicting myself. Happy one week. Scared the next. What's up? And of course they were right. But don't we all do that? Contradict ourselves? Second-guess? Or is it just me? Do you ever feel overcome by your own fears and insecurities? As if they are a blanket smothering you? You know they are silly, yet can't quite get up the strength to throw off that blanket of fear and self-doubt.
One does not bounce back from two years of unemployment, a year and a half of serial bullying from an alcoholic and manic-depressive boss, and the stress involved with both, not to mention the depression.
It takes time. I know that. And I am slowly coming out of the depression. Each day seems brighter. Easier somehow. Things that I used to dread, I don't any more. Last year I dreaded every holiday and weekend. This year? I actually sort of look forward to them or don't feel one way or the other. I'm finding myself looking forward to movies again and tv shows, my new favorite is Lost (which actually Kidbro and I have in common, he enjoys the show too.) I also love Joan of Arcadia. JLA. And a few other shows I won't bore you with. Not to analyze, just to escape into. I also enjoy music again. And food. Food suddenly is interesting and tasty again, for a while I found I could care less. Probably why I lost 20 pounds and may well be gaining them back again. Coming out of a depression is a bit like coming out of a dark tunnel. And it happens slowly. I'm laughing more. Crying less. And all in all, I have less anxiety attacks. But I've always been highly or tightly strung. And a bit of a perfectionist. My own worst critic.
So getting back to the whole fear is the mindkiller thing - what do people fear? And I don't mean things like spiders (yep, scared of those), monsters, serial killers, thunderstorms, or terrorist attacks. I mean less tangible things, things you can't quite put a finger on, but cause your heart to race, keep you up at night and give you nightmares.
I fear embarrassment, rejection, getting lost or stuck somewhere. Had a horrid nightmare on Wed night about getting stuck in Beacon, without my meds (according to my doc, if I go off the tremor meds abruptly - it could cause a seizure - okay, scary.), without anything and no way to get home, fear of
someone abandoning or leaving me somewhere - not showing up - this is sort of associated with the getting stuck fear. Fear of screwing up. Of failing.
Of being dependent on others. I fear not being understood. OF unintentionally hurting someone. Of being seen as "stupid" or "a failure". As insecure and idiotic as it sounds - I do care what others think and feel about me, more than I want to or should. How do you stop caring? I fear losing my mind, going insane, and most of all - losing control over my mind, body, or both. To me the worst diseases are the ones that would cause that.
I deal with my fears by pushing them aside. Paying attention to the details. (ie. being sure to bring enough meds with me to Beacon and double-checking all the details of the trip, including bugging kidbro three times to ensure we got the right time for him to pick me up at the station. I drive people nuts sometimes with my double-checking - but I fear mishearing them, misunderstanding.) I avoid modes of travel that I know could lose control over or get lost quicker in - buses (huge potential for missing a stop and going too far and getting stuck), cars (they break down, you could end up in the wrong spot, get horribly lost). Prefer trains and subways. You're with other people and there's a set schedule. Also they tend to circle back. Venting about them. Writing them out or stating them - so I can see them and knock them down. But I refuse to let them paralyze me into inaction. Because my greatest fear is letting life pass me by, of giving into my fears. I fear my own anxiety.
Tomorrow I go to Beacon. Taking with me a mahogany spice rack, with glass vials filled with imported fresh caraway seed, ginger, cinnamin, marajom,
cumin, oregano, basil, bay leaf, celery, paprika...that I bought at Pier Imports on Wed evening, along with a bouncy red, orange, yellow stuffed chicken
hanging from a metal slinky like hook, and of course the books: I've chosen just three for this round - Green Eggs and Ham, Cat in the Hat, and Snowy Day.
After discussion with Kidbro tonight - I'm leery of bringing House at Pooh Corner, Richard Scary, Where The Wild Things ARe, The Giving Tree, and Horton Hears a Who. He said "books were for the future", "Cedar doesn't get read too, she won't be read too, she'll only put it in her mouth". So I fear bringing the others. Right now. I'll bring them later. Maybe Jan. OR March. It sounds silly I know. But I have enough to cart with me as is. After all. I'll get up at 8. Get out by 9:15. Get to Grand Central - knowing me, by 10. And end up waiting 45 minutes for the train. Why? Because I fear being late. So am either early or exactly on time. (People who are chronically late annoy me to no end, because, you guessed it - I'm always waiting on them, worrying anxiously if they will show, if something happened, if we picked the right place, if I got it wrong. The longer I wait, the more anxious I get, so by the time they show, I have to work overtime not to show them how anxious I am for fear of embarrassement.)And I'll probably have to wait on Kidbro at the other end.
Good thing I have a book to read - it's not a particularly gripping one, but it will do. I have gotten funny looks on the subway while reading it. But then it's not your typical book. It's Young Miles by Lois MacMaster Bujold, combines Warrior's Apprentice, The Mountains of Mourning, and The Vor Game in one novel. Long. Detailed. Requires some concentration, hence the non-gripping part. Hardly a read most people recognize. Had tried it before, but it failed to hold my attention. Am trying again now, since I seem to be more in the mood.
It reminds me a little of A Ship of Fools, I suppose. A hero, who is not attractive or in control of his body. One who does not get the girl and who has to struggle to make things work. I crave that for some reason. Not sure why.
Posting this now, before I get disconnected again and I fear, I lose it. Off to check the mta site, to double check the subway changes, and of course the train schedules. Then hopefully to slumber land, where sleep, if not good dreams await.
It was one phrase admist dozens in my jumble of thoughts. And it has been a stressful week - possibly because I've attempted to cram so many errands within it and work is very stressful right now. To explain why work is stressful would involve a lengthy explaination of what I do, and every time I attempt it - I find myself floundering for the correct words. Usually what ends up happening is someone will repeat back to me something they do, which they believe is similar, and I'll end up gasping - 'uh no, uh no, that's not it...' then just throw up my hands and give up. Had the same problem explaining to people what I wanted to do and why I wasn't doing something else they thought I should be doing.
Do you ever get the feeling during a conversation that there's three conversations going on simultaneously? The one you are having in your head with the other person, the one they are having in their head with you, and something in between the two? As if every word you are saying is being interpreted by them in a way you never meant it to be interpreted? Or slightly askew from what you meant? I guess that's why word usage and choice is so vital. So much easier in written speech than oral - which has a tendency to get shortened. Yet oral unlike written, has the advantage of body language.
At any rate, the failure to communicate wasn't exactly what I intended to ramble on about tonight - yet, somehow it does tie into my theme - fear.
Tomorrow I am visiting kidbro in Beacon. Am slightly anxious about this visit.
Why? you ask. Shouldn't I be excited? After all I am visiting my beloved niece, delivering Xmas gifts that I bought with my heart not my head, and getting out of this wretched city for a day. (Okay, stopping here to state - I do not hate NYC. Like most New Yorkers, I have a love/hate relationship with the city. And yes, I consider myself a New Yorker now - I walked through
9/11, smelled the ash, I lived through the black-out, and I've lived or worked in four of the five boroughs. I also think of Upstate NY as well, WestChester. That said, I have not been outside New York City since my drive up to Albany sometime in May or was it June? Can't remember.) So why the nerves?
Ah. It comes back to communication I suppose. Kidbro and I suffer from a failure to communicate. And it is desperately important to me to establish a relationship with my neice Cedar. Yet with Kidbro - I feel at times, as if, we are talking at what our perceptions of one another are, as opposed to with one another. It's almost as if we both have a preconcieved notion of what we want from the other party, what we fear the other party thinks, and what we think the other party wants feels or knows. And both make descisions regarding how we respond to each other based on these assumptions. I fear screwing up.
But I've been fearing screwing up for an awfully long time. It's funny a while back someone commented in my live journal about how it appeared to them that I was continuously putting myself down, they didn't understand why I was afraid at work. IT seemed I was contradicting myself. Happy one week. Scared the next. What's up? And of course they were right. But don't we all do that? Contradict ourselves? Second-guess? Or is it just me? Do you ever feel overcome by your own fears and insecurities? As if they are a blanket smothering you? You know they are silly, yet can't quite get up the strength to throw off that blanket of fear and self-doubt.
One does not bounce back from two years of unemployment, a year and a half of serial bullying from an alcoholic and manic-depressive boss, and the stress involved with both, not to mention the depression.
It takes time. I know that. And I am slowly coming out of the depression. Each day seems brighter. Easier somehow. Things that I used to dread, I don't any more. Last year I dreaded every holiday and weekend. This year? I actually sort of look forward to them or don't feel one way or the other. I'm finding myself looking forward to movies again and tv shows, my new favorite is Lost (which actually Kidbro and I have in common, he enjoys the show too.) I also love Joan of Arcadia. JLA. And a few other shows I won't bore you with. Not to analyze, just to escape into. I also enjoy music again. And food. Food suddenly is interesting and tasty again, for a while I found I could care less. Probably why I lost 20 pounds and may well be gaining them back again. Coming out of a depression is a bit like coming out of a dark tunnel. And it happens slowly. I'm laughing more. Crying less. And all in all, I have less anxiety attacks. But I've always been highly or tightly strung. And a bit of a perfectionist. My own worst critic.
So getting back to the whole fear is the mindkiller thing - what do people fear? And I don't mean things like spiders (yep, scared of those), monsters, serial killers, thunderstorms, or terrorist attacks. I mean less tangible things, things you can't quite put a finger on, but cause your heart to race, keep you up at night and give you nightmares.
I fear embarrassment, rejection, getting lost or stuck somewhere. Had a horrid nightmare on Wed night about getting stuck in Beacon, without my meds (according to my doc, if I go off the tremor meds abruptly - it could cause a seizure - okay, scary.), without anything and no way to get home, fear of
someone abandoning or leaving me somewhere - not showing up - this is sort of associated with the getting stuck fear. Fear of screwing up. Of failing.
Of being dependent on others. I fear not being understood. OF unintentionally hurting someone. Of being seen as "stupid" or "a failure". As insecure and idiotic as it sounds - I do care what others think and feel about me, more than I want to or should. How do you stop caring? I fear losing my mind, going insane, and most of all - losing control over my mind, body, or both. To me the worst diseases are the ones that would cause that.
I deal with my fears by pushing them aside. Paying attention to the details. (ie. being sure to bring enough meds with me to Beacon and double-checking all the details of the trip, including bugging kidbro three times to ensure we got the right time for him to pick me up at the station. I drive people nuts sometimes with my double-checking - but I fear mishearing them, misunderstanding.) I avoid modes of travel that I know could lose control over or get lost quicker in - buses (huge potential for missing a stop and going too far and getting stuck), cars (they break down, you could end up in the wrong spot, get horribly lost). Prefer trains and subways. You're with other people and there's a set schedule. Also they tend to circle back. Venting about them. Writing them out or stating them - so I can see them and knock them down. But I refuse to let them paralyze me into inaction. Because my greatest fear is letting life pass me by, of giving into my fears. I fear my own anxiety.
Tomorrow I go to Beacon. Taking with me a mahogany spice rack, with glass vials filled with imported fresh caraway seed, ginger, cinnamin, marajom,
cumin, oregano, basil, bay leaf, celery, paprika...that I bought at Pier Imports on Wed evening, along with a bouncy red, orange, yellow stuffed chicken
hanging from a metal slinky like hook, and of course the books: I've chosen just three for this round - Green Eggs and Ham, Cat in the Hat, and Snowy Day.
After discussion with Kidbro tonight - I'm leery of bringing House at Pooh Corner, Richard Scary, Where The Wild Things ARe, The Giving Tree, and Horton Hears a Who. He said "books were for the future", "Cedar doesn't get read too, she won't be read too, she'll only put it in her mouth". So I fear bringing the others. Right now. I'll bring them later. Maybe Jan. OR March. It sounds silly I know. But I have enough to cart with me as is. After all. I'll get up at 8. Get out by 9:15. Get to Grand Central - knowing me, by 10. And end up waiting 45 minutes for the train. Why? Because I fear being late. So am either early or exactly on time. (People who are chronically late annoy me to no end, because, you guessed it - I'm always waiting on them, worrying anxiously if they will show, if something happened, if we picked the right place, if I got it wrong. The longer I wait, the more anxious I get, so by the time they show, I have to work overtime not to show them how anxious I am for fear of embarrassement.)And I'll probably have to wait on Kidbro at the other end.
Good thing I have a book to read - it's not a particularly gripping one, but it will do. I have gotten funny looks on the subway while reading it. But then it's not your typical book. It's Young Miles by Lois MacMaster Bujold, combines Warrior's Apprentice, The Mountains of Mourning, and The Vor Game in one novel. Long. Detailed. Requires some concentration, hence the non-gripping part. Hardly a read most people recognize. Had tried it before, but it failed to hold my attention. Am trying again now, since I seem to be more in the mood.
It reminds me a little of A Ship of Fools, I suppose. A hero, who is not attractive or in control of his body. One who does not get the girl and who has to struggle to make things work. I crave that for some reason. Not sure why.
Posting this now, before I get disconnected again and I fear, I lose it. Off to check the mta site, to double check the subway changes, and of course the train schedules. Then hopefully to slumber land, where sleep, if not good dreams await.
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Date: 2004-12-11 07:44 pm (UTC)The visit was neither wonderful nor horrible, which I suppose is the best one can hope for with a sibling.
Sibling history is long isn't it? With my brother, we do this. But we seem to expect no more and neither try to go beyond this. My brother finds safety in this. I find disappointment in this.
Yes. I suppose this is why I liked the Spike/Angel relationship so much in S5 (I was one of the group who saw brothers not father/son), I thought the writers did an excellent job of capturing the love/hate, uncertainity of how to connect dynamic.
I have somewhat the same relationship with my brother. We both reach out, but somehow don't quite connect - running gobsmack into each others defensive walls. Then backing off hands in the air, stumbling. As children, living in the same house, we didn't back off and it would end in heated argument, fist-fights, tears - as adults, we retreat into awkward silences. Both treading lightly as if we were walking upon egg-shells.
Once you have know anxiety, the real kind, not just annoying worry, I don't see how you can't. Fear of fear I have found to be most frightening reaction of all. I push it aside as well. Feeling depressed doesn't scare me like fearing anxious does. Depression is passive, anxiety is aggressive. I don't deal well with aggressiveness. One more thing trying to control me.
Yes. Anxiety scares me more than depression, having experienced both. Anxiety makes you want to hide underneath your desk or bed. Depression - you want to sleep. And it is aggressive and when you lose control...it is frightening. I hate letting other things control me, whether it be a craving, other people, an obsession, or my own anxiety. I tend to fight them - which sometimes makes it worse. Sometimes the best tactic is to surrender briefly and let it wash over you, depending on the situation of course. Instead of fighting it and letting whatever it is take over.