Have you ever…
Freaked yourself out because you were not freaking out?
Worried because you were not worried?
Had anxiety about not being anxious?
For most of my life all of the above has not been too much of a problem because freaking out, worrying, and being anxious was my default setting, therefore the chances of not experiencing one or all of those for long enough to be nervous about not being nervous was rare.
It did happen on occasion.
Those rare times when I relaxed stressed me out more than when I was stressed out due to the training which had taught me that the moment you feel good… is like bait to all the shit-hell-chaos that life has to offer in abundance.
It was safer to feel unsafe all the time and stick to a regular routine of paranoid, hypervigilant, small-stuff-sweating frenzy.
Some of the causes of my consistent concerns are due to having a natural tendency to space out.
It was strange to find out as I was getting to know myself better and clearing out the internal closet of junk I’d accumulated (much of which wasn’t mine, what a magpie for awful things I’ve been) that I’m naturally prone to being chilled. WTF!?! No… seriously, that’s just not me… or is it? when for most of my life I’ve experienced myself as anything but chilled.
Much of that perspective on myself came from other people, as did the push to be anxious when I wasn’t naturally inclined to be that way. I could be fooling myself about all of this, that does occur, but…
Have you ever had a memory which completely overturns your previous perception of yourself, or reviewed a memory from a new angle which changed how you viewed yourself and what had actually happened, and that one memory once allowed to be viewed causes a domino effect?
My need to remain permanently anxious was caused by a set of memories which confirmed that being in a state of fearful alert was necessary, however those same memories viewed from another perspective showed me that I was prone to being too relaxed about myself and life, and someone else had found this to be a terrible state to be in – my calm caused them alarm.
Or more to the point they were already alarmed and my calm made them even more anxious than they were, so for them to feel less anxious they needed for me to be anxious too. Their wound runneth over.
It was a bit like swimming in a pool, feeling fine, enjoying the sensory weightless elation, and having someone jump in next to you, almost knock you out with their heavy, then splash around as though they were drowning (why did they jump into the pool if they couldn’t swim?) creating turbulence all around, while screaming SHARK! SHARK! SKARK! until they’d infected you with their terror of the water, and convinced you that there was a real and present danger even though you knew there wasn’t – the fact that there wasn’t meant that there was to them and now to you too.
When someone else can’t relate to you, it throws them off kilter. They tend to assume your way is wrong and theirs is right, because they can’t handle the possibility that things could be the other way around or worse still that alternate realities could exist in the same place, and neither is right or wrong.
They can’t let there be spaces in your togetherness…
They have too much clutter and you have to take it on.
They are in a state of panic and want control over what triggers that, which they see as being you and your different ways that are disturbing to them.
How dare you be the way that you are when they can’t and don’t understand it… you make no sense to them, you must be made to make sense and they will be the ones to fix you (or break you if you resist).
They don’t question you to discover or learn anything, they are poking you with the thorn in their side. They’re hurting so you have to hurt too. Pain connects us all and is our main language – whatever language we’re using to communicate it.
If you’re around this type of person for long enough, and if they are in a position of authority over you in any way, you may override your natural tendencies and adopt unnatural ones, that if done repetitively become false-natural to you and you’ll think that’s you… because it is now.
My calm became a source of alarm for me, with the bell ringing without reprieve as the moment it stopped I might relax and revert back to my natural ways which were… SHARK! SHARK! SHARK!
I remember being made aware of the perils of having no sense of time, or at least a my internal clock measured time differently, when I was fairly young.
Mostly by my mother who seemed to measure time in seconds, and with each second the ticking inside of her got louder, as though it was the digital readout of a bomb counting down to an explosion which would annihilate her or her reality (which could not be permitted to happen).
Times crimes were something she policed with self-righteous vigour.
If you had an appointment with her and were one second late, she’d hold that against you for the rest of your life and you’d have to grovel for forgiveness for the rest of eternity, any excuses were considered lame. If she had an appointment of any sort she would invariably get there an hour early – halo! She grew up on military time, and was punished with humiliation when she strayed and betrayed it. She never got over that, and passed it on with drill sergeant gusto.
She impressed me with her terror, and eventually I was permanently afraid of the clock, and of myself forgetting what time or day it was.
I once turned up at the start of a new term of school an entire day ahead of schedule, and ended up in the headmistress’ office having to explain why I was there when I wasn’t supposed to be there. The headmistress, who was quite a fearsome being, showed her softer side in that interaction – she liked that I was so eager to be in school.
I wasn’t eager at all to be in school and would have missed most of it if it was up to me, but it’s best not to speak the truth when in that kind of position.
Anxiety over saying the wrong thing was also a big issue which turned me into a worry wart. No matter what I said, even if I spent hours agonising over it trying to figure out what was the right thing to say, I always seemed to say the wrong thing, the consequences of which were emotional blackmail which is a very special kind of torture.
I ended up almost mute because of it, I spoke as little as possible and was prone to sore throats of the barbed wire variety due to suppressing screams of intense frustration – OMG WTF have I said now which warrants an OTT off-with-my-head reaction!?!
Did I not stroke your ego? It’s sometimes impossible to stroke such an overly sensitive creature without rubbing it the wrong way (all ways are wrong)… maybe that’s the point of it being so sensitive.
Did I not saying anything, is that the problem? Saying anything to you is a burdensome task, every word needs to be weighed before uttering it, I feel as though I’m Sisyphus rolling rocks up my esophagus… maybe I should just choke on it, it’d be less tiresome and more rewarding.
Or are you just wired to find flaws in everything because that’s your G-spot?
Worrying about making mistakes reached the point where I became paralysed with fear. I couldn’t do anything because everything I did was a mistake and mistakes were things to avoid at all costs as they could cause a nuclear meltdown of armagedon proportions.
It took a long time, by my own time-keeping standards that would equate to several eons, for me to reach breaking point.
That point where you realise that everything you say and do is always wrong, that who you are is a mistake of the unthinkable and unerasable kind, and that all those solutions you come up with to solve the problem that is you will never make anything better, and actually make things worse.
It’s hell within as well as on the outside.
So, you either kill yourself or… you are initiated into the philosophy of fuck it.
Damned if you do damned if you don’t, might as well do whatever… however, do a whatever which is something you feel is right for you, who you are, something authentic to the natural you.
But who is the natural you, and what would you say or do naturally?
That can take a while to figure out… because we often travel so far away from ourselves that we don’t have a frigging clue who we really are, what we really want.
And we may approach such a thing from a black and white angle – If I do what I want then I’m going to fuck everyone else over.
Really? That’s your limited set of options:
1 – Doing what others want means everyone else gets what they want… but you fuck yourself over.
2 – Doing what you want means you get to finally do what you want and get it… but the entire world gets fucked over.
How about expanding on that to find a more friendly balance for one and all, excluding those who only feel satisfied when they get stuff at the expense of everyone else, or who throw all their toys out of the pram just because someone else gets something, and maybe for once in their life they have to deal with not being catered to.
If you think that doing what is right for you is going to cause everyone else to suffer greatly… maybe a new view needs to be explored.
And we may still be living by someone else’s rules…
because giving over our power to others is something which we’re all prone to doing due to conditioning
and we’re all a bit timid when it comes to accepting personal power (what happens if we misuse it, isn’t it better if we give it to someone else to misuse then at least we can blame them for abuses of such things which lead to consequences that no one wants to claim… and which ends up in the lost baggage department)
…which can cause clashes with our natural sense of right and wrong, up and down.
Gosh, I strayed a lot from my intended path and as usual ended up writing a post which is too long… but that’s the way I like it.
There are hidden messages in my posts to myself, the main one being – this is you, get to know you, see you, hear you, be you… you can try to fight your natural self for your entire life if you want, but… isn’t is relaxing when you just accept you and go with your flow.
My flow at the moment is… alarmingly calm.
There’s a huge change happening which I’ve mentioned on here but… it could slip by unnoticed by the eye which is looking for itself, or things to criticise about me, or whatever…
This change should be causing me to have major breakouts of nervous freaking anxious worry… I keep trying to do that as I used to do but somehow I’m incredibly chilled.
Kinda weird, kinda nice…