This past week has been tough on a lot of people in my life. Matt's brother was in a car accident (he walked away luckily) and his dog was diagnosed with terminal cancer. Taylor's grandfather ended up in the hospital. I was on video chat with my friend when he found out that his uncle passed away. All in all, not the best for several of them. I almost wondered if I was a bad luck charm. It broke my heart to see pain happening around me. These moments were a real test for me because part of codependency and empathy is having the need to fix things for others, not just help the situation.
- The codependent side gets panicky and feels like whatever they're going through will result in an emotional punishment on me if I don't fix it, even though it has nothing to do with me and there is little I can really do other than be there for them.
- The empathetic side of me relates to what they're feeling and re-creates the scenario in my own life and causes me to feel their emotions.
Believe it or not, this is a problem.
I don't mind being empathetic. I actually really enjoy that about myself because I believe that it gives me the ability to help people out and go above and beyond when they're hurting. What I hate about it is the way it turns the situation into my trauma instead of theirs. It keeps me from being able to be removed enough to actually be of any help. I have to cognitively remind myself that this is not mine to carry, and go through separation exercises so that I do not take their experiences on as my own. It makes me feel selfish and sick, and then I spend time mentally beating myself up over that. In case you can't tell, mental disease is as twisted as the creases on the brain, and just as mysterious.
As I watched my friends experience their pains, I kept repeating to myself, "This is not yours. This is theirs. Be there. Stop panicking, take a breath. Calm your heart rate. This is not yours." For the most part, it worked.
Matt took me to his Jiu Jitsu classes that week. I know, I know, several of you are cringing already if you know me and know anything about Jiu Jitsu. Let me put your mind at ease quickly: I did not get injured, nor did I injure anyone else! I actually felt very coordinated and strong during the class. I certainly wasn't good by any means, but it felt powerful. From learning different defense throws to the respectful handshakes and the sound of a body against the mat, the entire experience seemed to awaken a confidence in me that I didn't know I had. I have felt sexy in zumba and dance classes; I have felt graceful in jazz and ballet; I have felt strong after a run or weight training; powerful, however, was a completely different experience for me. The past 3 years have been fraught with the feeling of powerlessness. In my relationships, my work situation, and in life circumstances, I have felt like the victim (mainly because I allowed myself that mentality). After Jiu Jitsu, I felt in control. i felt that I could take control of something, overcome it, protect myself in more ways than one. By brain experienced a calmness that consumed me, made me think that things were not as chaotic and out of control as I've presumed in the past.
It was not without its funny moments. The blue belt I was working with did her best to teach me moves that were second-nature to her and I nearly got ran over when we were warming up with "crawling shrimp." There is also something to be said to adjusting to a person's butt in your face before you even know their name. Towards the end of my first class we practiced foot holds. I am still recovering from the bone chip on my ankle. I just looked at the girl and said, "Please go easy on this foot, please....." That's when I learned about tapping out.
My second class I worked with a girl still in high school. Talk about feeling old. I was terrified to hurt her, but I also felt good about helping her train. If she could take me down, she could more than likely defend herself in the world.
Needless to say, I will be training as soon as I can find a place. When I paid for my classes, they gave me a membership card in case I come back to train with them/end up moving there. On it was their motto: You don't have to be strong. You have to be exact.
When I read this, something clicked into place for me. I don't always have to be mentally strong. I do, however, need to be exact in my thinking about myself. I can't give myself vague affirmations or empty mantras. I also need to be more exact in what I need to be happy and healthy. The strength will come to me. Start with exact.
So far, I have learned that I need to have a significant amount of art in my life. I love going to live performances and I thrive on dance. Reading and writing calm me and I find so much peace in nature. Photography is becoming a hobby again and I notice my happiness increasing the more I do it. Wherever I move, these are going to be things that I focus on building into my day-to-day routines. There needs to be plenty of opportunity to experience these. This is helping me narrow down cities for my future.
I also need a variety of artsy/hipster areas to hang out in and indulge my inner foodie. Durham offered quite a few spots to indulge myself in this need. I hung out in shops and bookstores that had so much character that I could have stayed forever listening to what the walls had to say. We went to Downtown Durham and played pool one night at a nice pool hall, ventured to a burger joint and a cupcake bar the next day, and topped the trip off with chicken and waffles and some cookout, because it was October 13th and that is national Treat Yo'Self Day (thank you Parks and Rec). My body pretty much only wants healthy food now, but hey, life happens.
I also baked a cheesecake for Matt since he was having such a crappy time. I may have burned the mess out of the top and we ate it while it was still warm (oops) but other than that it was great! .... I'm just saying, it would have been nice if Matt's roommate, Nathan, had warned me that the cheesecake that he baked 2 days ago came out burned. Their oven clearly runs high. But so goes life. Sometimes, the cake burns and you eat it anyways.
While in Durham, Matt, Nathan, and I shared several deep talks about relationships and being yourself. Again, most people would not be as open as I am, nor would they be comfortable doing that, but I appreciated their company and conversation on some hard topics, including where I was mentally. As each day passes I panic a bit more about what job could possibly fit my personality and be able to support myself/a family. I feel like I should have all of this sorted by now and I'm terrified that I'll make a mistake. I know there is still "time", but having no income after being independent for 3 years is a hard shift.
Due to Taylor's grandfather being sick, I adjusted my trip a bit and stayed an extra night in Durham, which was not a problem at all. I headed to Kentucky Friday and loved every second of the 7 hour drive across West Virginia. The mountains are breath-taking. I am almost considering living there for the scenery alone. That was one drive I was not bored on. I will tell you about Kentucky next time.
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