Complex PTSD Workbook – Diane’s Story

Tags

birth, childhood, weight

Diane’s story, p17, The Complex PTSD Workbook, Dr Arielle Schwartz

 

“debilitating anxiety” – I was not aware of being anxious until a few (five?) years ago. I think, prior to that, I was so stressed and worried about life, about getting through the day to day with children and worrying about my relationship with my then partners, that I didn’t have the time or space to feel anxious. As I write this I’m wondering what the difference between anxiety and nerves is. I think my awareness of anxiety grew when I started my journey to freedom (i.e. when I became single and started thinking about me). Part of anxiety for me was feeling 100% responsible for each and any decision made, both large and small, from what to have for dinner to where to go on holiday. By being a single adult rather than part of a pair I became more visible. I’m conscious of this even now, the difference between going to a place with a friend, as a pair feels very different and more comfortable than going to the same place alone and that’s not just because I have the pleasure of company.

“hopelessness and despair” – it has taken me a long time, and in many ways is the most important part of my journey, to realise that there is hope for a better now. A year or two ago I would have said a better future rather than a better now but mindfulness and common sense have taught me to embrace the now because anything might happen. I still have moments of feeling hopeless and yes that is about emotional flashbacks to times when I had no control over circumstances and felt unable to have any say (there’s a pertinent word here that eludes me).

“relationship” – I like to think that mine didn’t suffer because of my behaviour in particular, but I certainly picked partners (at any age and any stage) who reflected and repeated my father’s domineering diminishing attitude so that the neglect I felt as a child and the insignificance that I felt, all carried on. I’m not by any means saying that I was perfect in the relationship but my greatest issue was in picking the wrong ones. I have at least stopped berating myself for my poor choice and have accepted that these choices were an inevitable consequence of my childhood.

“gained weight” – I always associated my weight gain with quitting smoking which I did about a year after becoming single. Before then I had put on and lost weight with the ebb and flow of pregnancies, divorce etc. but I was able to control it, coming down to a size 10 (UK) after 4son was born and I was at my most unhappiest trying to decide what to do with my relationship. I accepted weight gain in exchange for quitting smoking as a fair trade but after that year it never stopped, inching upwards (and outwards) although it has slowed down. I am currently a UK20 and that seems massive to me. Emotional eating is certainly part of it. I am better able now to practice intuitive eating but food was a large part of my parents’ life, as was guilt around it for my mother and although my relationship with food is a lot better there are still issues and probably always will be.

“insomnia” – As a child I slept solidly once I had gone to sleep but going to sleep could take me 2-3 hours. I would be going over the day and quite possibly/probably crying. My mother snored really loudly and if she and I were on holiday together and had to share a room she would wake me up. I even remember going to sleep on the couch downstairs and hearing her through the ceiling. 1son’s father used to snore almost as loudly, depending on alcohol consumption and used to wake me up as well. It is of course almost impossible to distinguish between sounds that wake you up and those that prevent you going back to sleep. Since I had children I learned to sleep lightly (since no bugger else was going to attend to a child at the night) and I never broke that pattern. Mindfulness in the last year or two has taught be to go to sleep without the hours of lying awake not being able to stop thinking but I still wake up several times during the night. The nightmares have stopped though. Since becoming single my nightmares have all been of a pattern: trying to run away, out of a building, with children, with packing boxes as if moving home and with a partner suddenly reappeared and ensconced in the home as if he lived there. I would have a feeling of “he’s back, here we go again, I’ve got to get him out / get away from him without him realising”. No great need for interpretation there but I would wake up in fear with my heart galloping and total panic. Sleep is better than it used to be but it’s still not my friend.

“avoiding dealing with her traumatic past” – it is only in the last few months that I have realised that not wanting to go back to my childhood in therapy isn’t because I’ve gone through it before and it’s done with but is because I don’t want to revisit it. For all that I want to focus on what’s happening now and what can happen in the future, I can’t do that without resolving the past and although I’ve had a good go, it’s not dealt with, it’s not done, and I need to go back.

“…It simply hurt too much.” – oh yes. I don’t go there. There are years that I have simply blocked out. I do not want to talk about them. Not so much my childhood but more my young adulthood. My childhood had breaks in it: there were holidays and books and nice activities and music and cycling. I learned to escape even if I wasn’t leaving my room and the times my mother and I spent with her mother on holiday in the south of France were genuinely revitalising. But the days at school when I was picked on, by the students, by the staff (only a few), by the system or the days when I was out with my parents without choice or desire or even the days when I went out on my own because that was the only way I could find any peace. All these were soul-destroying. I learned to enjoy doing things on my own because I didn’t feel I had any other options. All this before the roller coaster of turning 16 and unintentionally moving in with my father’s mistress and the fall out from that and then moving in with a guy, all in the search of somewhere safe to call home. It still hurts too much.

“choice or control” – yes I did lose choice or control of my life and not just my emotional one. That happened as a child. My only choice was whether to withdraw or not so I did, into myself. There was no way my father could force me to do my homework. He could make me sit in front of it but not to do it. However I had sod all control outside of my head with my life as an adult until I became single and started to take control of my life. I always had control of my children but that was because no one else was involved (and when he was I wished he wasn’t). I wanted to share the parenting, at least that was the idea, but ex2 didn’t know how. He was either totally indulgent or totally suppressive, nothing in between.

“tell her what she was doing wrong” – neither of my parents were alcoholics or addicts of any sort (unless going for walks counts). There was no physical abuse but there was emotional abuse. My father liked things just so and my mother delivered or else. There were no cross words, never a voice raised in anger. He would merely express surprise that things hadn’t been done the way he wanted and, when my mother would if possible run around to change things then say “don’t bother, I don’t want any fuss” in that tone of voice that said the exact opposite. Lessons would be learned and it wouldn’t happen again. Food would be commented on, had a dish been cooked differently to last time, maybe with a different herb, minor changes, was it better or was the original the best, how could it be improved on even more. A decision would be handed out and my mother would take mental note, or scribble it down on her recipe card. None of us were allowed to say we didn’t like it, although in truth I don’t remember disliking her food. If we didn’t like it we just shovelled it down trying not to taste. No one ever told my father he was doing things wrong. I watched all this, aged 5 or so and didn’t really think about it; I just absorbed it. At this age my sisters were in a different world to me: they were teenagers absorbed in their own play. 2sis was busy discovering God and 1sis was busy getting in trouble with boys. At the time, aged 6, I was completely oblivious to her pregnancy and abortion. My mother years later said they had thought about bringing up the baby but considered the father and dismissed the idea. That seemed calculating to me then and it still does. I had met him and I have a one minute blank crossing a car park with him and 1sis after which I never went near him again and almost ran when I bumped into him some 20 years later with 1sis. I have no idea what that was about. At this young age, I wasn’t aware of doing things wrong. Although I say that and then think about trying to say no to walks. My mother said that I went through a phase of only wearing skirts and then one of only wearing trousers and I wonder if, even then, it was the only control I had. Once I got older there was lots of being told what I was doing wrong, from my father, my peers at school, the teachers. My father and I would have conversations where he would try really really hard to understand what I was telling him but he would fail to do so and that of course was all my fault.

“I should never have been born.” This sent chills down me. 1sis was born soon after my parents got married; it took me years to realise she’d actually been born the month before and what a lot of questions that raised. 2sis was born 3 years after. Why then wait for 7 years to have me? Was I planned or accidental? Was I an oopsie? I wasn’t sure but I couldn’t thing of any logical sensible reason for that long a gap. It wasn’t until I was 12 that I learned 1sis was adopted by my father and it took a couple more years before I discussed it with my mother and found out the story. Age 14 was a bit late to discover that I had been wanted and planned for, and it was a shame that the fourth baby never materialised. My mother said it took them long to conceive me because subconsciously or not, they wanted me to be born a particular time of year and that meant only trying one month out of the year. No doubt that was also my fault. Much as my sisters hated each other at times (and have done for several decades) they had a closeness that I could never replicate with either.

This post is a response to Diane’s story, p17 of The Complex PTSD Workbook: A Mind-Body Approach to Regaining Emotional Control and Becoming Whole which I am working through. The author can be found at Dr Arielle Schwartz

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Increased Body Tension

Tags

4Fs, body, complex PTSD, emotional flashback, Pete Walker, tension, workbook

Over the last few weeks I have been reading and thinking a lot about Complex PTSD.

There has been a sense of relief at external validation, that I have a right to feeling the way I do and responding as I do, that these are known symptoms and consequences of feeling neglected as a child.

During this time of reflection I have been aware of an increase in body tension, just generally that it’s been ramped up a couple of notches, as if I’m preparing to flee. This has just been brought home to me even more as I’ve just been made aware of a public cock-up I have made work wise and my body has gone into overdrive, turning into a huge bucket of nerves, wanting to both run away, curl into a ball and hide, answer back in anger, and grovel apologetically. I think this covers all of Pete Walker’s 4 F’s responses: fight, flight, freeze and fawn (Complex PTSD: From Surviving to Thriving: A Guide and Map for Recovering from childhood trauma, an excellent and most readable non-technical book).

I also recognise the feeling as being familiar to me from some eight years ago when I was falsely accused of doing something stupid (I can’t even remember what now) on a public forum and I spent the weekend in tears feeling much as I do now, although now I am not crying and I have not fallen to pieces in the same way as I did then. So there’s progress but the fact that I am feeling the same way or similar just gives me emotional flashbacks to times I’ve felt this way before and there is a sort of cumulative effect where it is as if the emotional intensity of all vaguely similar events are all piled up together so that it’s not just the one thing now that I am dealing with but all of them together.

I have also been discussing with my therapist how we are to move forward. After three years together we are increasingly “comfortable” together and we need to review how we are to move forward together if I am to make progress. We have done this periodically before and it is an essential part of therapy. My therapist is not trained in PTSD, let alone EMDR so there are choices to be made. I could change therapist now and go to a specialist in PTSD. They cost more and actually finding one that deals in complex PTSD is not easy. Then there is the time factor of establishing a new relationship and developing it to the point of use. Also my therapist has to be vetted and approved to provide paperwork for my course to certify she is providing so many hours of therapy to me a year. I have cold feet about starting anew. So for the moment I’m staying put. I’ve had enough changes this last month or so to not want more.

We are therefore going to be working through The Complex PTSD Workbook: A Mind-Body Approach to Regaining Emotional Control and Becoming Whole and see how much work we can do together. Maybe I need to find a specialist to see over the summer holidays when I’ve got the time and space for something new. Also, depending on cost, the more work I can do beforehand the cheaper it will be. Possibly. Who knows. This is all a work in progress and I’m back to feeling that I’m fumbling through the dark.

Controlling via access to money

Tags

control, money, notebook, petrol, presents

Our tutor role-played a client stuck in an emotional domestic abuse situation. It’s OK as long as he doesn’t hit her, she said. I was fine with it, thinking about what I would say at various points, which was the point of the exercise, until she mentioned her husband going through her receipts. I immediately was taken to watching my father go through my mother’s credit card statement before paying it. It wasn’t enough for her to check it herself but he had to do it and ask what transactions were when he didn’t know. That would include why, not just what and where. She never argued about it but just quietly acquiesced and I would sit there quietly fuming on her behalf. Was she not capable of checking her own statement? Did he think she was being frivolous with her money, or was it all his money.

Did he give her access to ‘mad money’, that she could spend and not have to explain to him? I think not. I don’t remember him complaining about what she spent. I wonder whether he would in today’s world full of card transaction with less cash, so he would be more aware of the little stuff. She was always tight on clothes for me as I would grow out of them so what is the point of buying lots. I remember in primary school being asked why I only wore 2 different pairs of trousers and answering that 2 was all I was allowed; one to wash and one to wear. She didn’t like spending money on her own clothes, especially if they were extravagant. Eventually he started taking her clothes shopping and spending the money on her that she didn’t dare. There were occasions when I begged, when we came across a fantastic swimming costume at the seaside (go figure) and my mother had no cash on her. My bike and my tape deck were the only two presents I got worth more than, say, £30 and I had to pay half myself and beg for six months to get them. Both offered me a sense of freedom and so helped me save my sanity. My mother never earned her own money except when she briefly worked for a bakery when I started school part time before we moved. I wonder what that money did for her and what it could have done if continued.

We had a really good quasi triad where we just leaped into it without preamble and the observer focused on monitoring empathy. I talked about much of the above, about money and how it represented control. I remembered watching my father pull aside on leaving a petrol station and writing it down in his little notebook: the cost, the mileage, litres, the price per litre, the reset of the odometer so we could use that to run more precisely to the next needed petrol station. One time he drove past a petrol station because it had two cars queued and we literally ran out of petrol 200 yards further on. He then said he did it deliberately because we had lunch at a lovely restaurant that we wouldn’t have discovered otherwise. He was generous with money when he saw the value of it and when he’d budgeted for it. I was aware at a very young age that he needed control over money and that he had it.

Less at Odds with Myself

Tags

actualising tendency, confidence, feedback, person-centred, Rogers, skills practice

The client knows best because it has to be that way. The whole premise of Rogers’ person-centred approach is that the client has the ability to move forward and that the role of the counsellor is to give a helping hand. He uses the metaphor of midwifery to emphasise that the client is doing the work (of giving birth) and the counsellor is ‘just’ facilitating this by guiding, along with having expertise in the theory of counselling but not in the client. The actualising tendency is that as flowers grow and turn towards the sun, so do we grow naturally towards being the most me I can be. This is not about becoming a ‘good’ person, or even becoming a better person. It is about being more me and throwing off that which inhibits my being me. C put it beautifully describing it as becoming “less at odds with yourself”.

We considered famous people and what we knew of their childhood, trying to put it into Rogerian terms. In pairs we considered a few famous politicians, all of whom demanded the spotlight (external locus of evaluation) in different ways. As one pair talked about Katie Price I realised, again, that feeling of being left out of group common culture and not wanting to belong. It’s taken until a day later to realise I thought we were talking about Katie Hopkins and have no idea who Price is, other than her being one of those irritating public figures I have no interest in.

We started going through counselling skills, considering active listening, minimal encouragers and managing silence. Again I was drawn by the parallels with mindfulness, that active listening is about being present in the moment, listening fully with all senses (preferably not smell but if needs be then that too), being aware of the client’s body language and the manner in which things are said, whether there are contradictions in body and words etc. Client must feel listened to.

Then I had my first tutorial. I had volunteered to have it early and was glad to do so. We discussed those things that had irritated me last year: my confusion over which comments I made as a listener were which type of tool and how I found myself spending more time worrying over the correct labelling of comments made rather than the impact of the comments. Also the whole emphasis on the mechanics of responses made rather than the attitude of counsellor. She dismissed most of this with this is the way the course is structured and you are assessed so suck it up for the purposes of the course and don’t worry about it. Focus on the bigger picture. I also mentioned the confusion over being non-directive and signposting. I’m still not sure, but I think that being unsure is good as it means I’m aware of the conflict. She was reassuring and did tell me to lighten up and I did walk away feeling better.

She then came and observed me as I acted as listener for the first time since the end of last term. I listened to T, to whom I had listened earlier that day in an active listening role play so we already had some contact established. She wrote like a fury throughout and I was doing my best to not consider whether I was paraphrasing, reflecting, etc. etc., but to respond as I thought best regardless of technique, to pick up on the really important things that were said and to stay with them so we could unpick. We did twenty five minutes and she did then give me long feedback. It was all good. She picked up on things I said that showed I was listening, that I heard what he wasn’t saying, that I allowed him to develop his thoughts etc. A few minor points for reflection but she basically told me I was fine. I felt incredibly reassured and immediately started worrying whether she was nice to me because of what I said in the tutorial. So i’m trying to focus on the positive and ignore the baseless worry. I also consider that I disagree with a lot of peer observations and need to have the confidence to reject some of it. I am not good at the confidence thing generally.

Our second PD was as powerful, if not more so than the first. We went back to an incident from the previous week and went over it until we had made sure that there was no residual left over feeling that hadn’t been aired. It could so easily have been overkill but it wasn’t. There was reassurance and deeper understanding. Most of all, for me there was an awareness that already we had grown closer and deeper as a group and that this was going to continue. We were not going to bother with unnecessary navel-gazing. There is a perceived trust by virtue of us being there that means we are diving in the deep end. We talked about addiction and I followed up a long silence by talking about ex1 and his eventual relinquishing of alcohol. I had very much spent the silence wondering whether I wanted to talk about him. Our facilitator facilitates, midwives us without interfering, just prodding and pausing us where necessary.

I left feeling a lot more confident than I had been in the morning and ultimately that made it a really good day.

Symptoms

Tags

CPTSD, symptoms

Repeated exposure to a situation from which the person has little chance of escape, such as childhood neglect. Cause, not symptom.

My emotions have to be tied down fairly well. Otherwise they might overwhelm me.

Triggers can be weird. Just looking at websites and thinking about symptoms cause my heart rate to increase, a feeling of my heart pounding, I tense up, a headache develops. I shake, literally. I can feel as if my heart is about to explode.

When I’m put into a situation where I feel like I’ve gone back in time, which may just be someone asking me a question I’m not sure of the answer, I feel as if my brain is paralysed. It goes blank and shuts down, because no answer is the safest answer. I don’t like bullies, or slightly aggressive people, or others who remind me of my past.

A particular type of film can be a trigger. Sierra Burgess is a Loser, a recent Netflix coming of age film of no great merit whatsoever, caused me to bawl my eyes out afterwards in a way I haven’t done for ages. It also helped trigger me into realising I need to do something about this. I avoid films I know will have this effect.

I’m not sure about disassociation and will have to think more about what it means.

I used to have repeated nightmares, about packing up and moving homes, with small children and one of my exes, trying to pack, usher children out the house along with packing boxes, whilst not waking up he ex. I know it makes no sense, but that and me running away trying to get of an endless building, again with children were the two nightmares that would pop up most night, in some variation or other. They rarely happen now, and when they do I know that means I need to sort out whatever’s on my mind.

I am as detached as I can possibly be from my family whilst still remaining in contact. I haven’t seen my middle sister in over five years and am not bothered. I quite like my eldest sister but put her off as I find her draining. My parents I see as little as possible. My children have no contact with their father’s family other than 1son who lives with his father. I have as little contact with him and his family as possible.

I do have a good core of friends though. But I also shy away from getting to know people who could become friends, keeping acquaintance at a distance rather than letting them closer. Slow and steady is better that not at all but still a way to go.

I have difficulty sleeping. At least since I had babies, if not before. I sleep through the night once every six months or so and wake up totally surprised. Mindfulness has helped me find a way to go to sleep without lying there for two or three hours first, for which I’m incredibly grateful.

I used to, but no longer, be attracted to men who I thought would rescue me but were in fact perpetrators who would continue keeping me down.

This is just a rough list but as a starter it’s already quite a lot.

Complex PTSD

Tags

C-PTSD

typically the result of exposure to repeated or prolonged instances or multiple forms of interpersonal trauma, often occurring under circumstances where escape is not possible due to physical, psychological, maturational, family/environmental, or social constraints.

Judith Herman, 1992

Yes!

I Want to Level Up

Tags

barrier, nub, progress, vulnerable core

I am going to keep coming up against it until I deal with it. So I need to deal with it.

It feels like stating the bleeding obvious. But if I am going to level up in life, as we were talking about with Rogers’ 7 stages of process then I need to break through this barrier. Never mind that I need to find a specialist to do the work, or that it costs or that I don’t want to start from scratch. I need to.

The reason people stay in stages 4-5 is that you can become yourself enough to be able to deal with what is in front of you. Once you’ve dealt with it you can stay where you are in your comfort zone. You don’t need to push yourself forward.

In slightly old fashioned video games you play a level collecting tricks and tools, fighting bad guys along the way until you come to the end of a level. At this point you have to fight a boss, a really bad-ass bad guy, probably giant in size, stature and ability. You will die several times before you beat him. You will use all your tools and tricks. But you eventually master him and defeat him, winning a bumper crop of new tools and tricks. And you start the next level. You have levelled up. It has been hard work because you have to try and fail multiple times before you get there.

This is much the same thing as moving out of stage 5 where you’re OK, you can cope, life is good. You occasionally brush up against something you haven’t dealt with but you can push it to one side and ignore it unless it is really stopping you do something important to you.

I keep coming up against this vulnerable core, this nub at the heart of me. This is the bit that says despite everything I know and understand about my parents, my childhood, what they did to me, how that carried on with partners so that I took decades before I began addressing my needs. How despite understanding all that shit, I still feel right at the heart of me that I am useless and will get found out, despite my ability to behave like I’m competent at living my life. This is why I don’t want to apply for a job, or to put my heart on paper for a work placement. It’s also why I don’t want to look for a potential partner, a relationship by whatever name or purpose. It’s even why I am reluctant to argue about random news, politics, ideas, whatever because I don’t want to put up my views and get them knocked down. I feel that I am a fraud, despite knowing that it’s not true.

If I want to move on and not be stuck with this feeling that makes me cry, that hurts, then I need to tackle the elephant in the room. I also will not complete the diploma without it and will not make a good counsellor.

I need to ask for help in finding the right specialist and I need to focus on addressing it as much as I can in the meantime. It is another thing I have to do that adds to the list of things I have to do but I have to do it. It is actually more important than anything else.

Maths and Rogers share Purity

Tags

axioms, PD, philosophy, pure maths, trio, vulnerable core

There is a sense of relief at having finished our first proper full day and having started an interesting PD group that is going to be so much better than last year’s.

It was more intense a learning period but we all got through it and I felt a bit closer to people I didn’t know. There was that feeling of getting to know those on my side of the room but not the other side. We are all fumbling around starting connections but also remembering the close knit group that we ended with last year so there is an anticipation and anxiety to get back there even if it’s not a return.

We talked about the need to develop a personal philosophy of counselling and how that ties in with who we are. There will be an essay, at the end of all this. I actually mentioned, to my surprise, a growing awareness of the parallels between PCA (person-centred approach) and pure maths, in that both are about stripping away the extras and reducing a system down to the core beliefs. Rogers’ 19 propositions are basically people axioms, reducing how we become/develop as a person down to the absolute fundamental way in which we learn about ourselves from our perception of reality and how that can be distorted.

My personal philosophy is also about the connection between the trio of humanism (as a life philosophy), mindfulness (as a personal way of being and developing) and the person-centred approach. When you throw in my attitudes to parenting it becomes all about empowering the individual to be autonomous: teach and support them in learning how to make their own decisions, whether it’s in education, who they are or where they are going. It all comes down to enabling a person to be independent in their identity, actions and thoughts. This is a topic I am going to have to come back to, again and again to reflect and make it deeper.

Triads were interesting, with C from last year and E, new to us both. I ended up not listening, but observing and speaking. I talked about my core vulnerability when faced with application forms and job searches and the need for specialised PTSD work. I need to think again about that. I started to look but PTSD is all aimed at those suffering from combat stress so how to find someone who will get me over what I really hope is the last hurdle. But if this is where all roads lead then that is where I need to go.

PD (personal development group) was wonderful, although I did think at one stage that we might just talk about our experiences of PD last year and what had been good or bad about it. A small group to start off with and several of us had a five minute talk on what was on our mind. There was good give and take and more equality of voices. The facilitator was brilliant compared to last year’s, letting us talk on and just occasionally nudging. It felt more like a proper encounter group. It was really encouraging and I walked away feeling a lot more enthused about the whole thing.

It does all feel that we’ve levelled up and that all the work is going to be more intense and more serious right from the get go. The background anxiety of can I complete this properly and tick all the boxes and learn, and and and… will be there for the next two years, fading in and out of the background depending on what’s going on. I’m already recognising over the last few weeks that my mind has been less calm and I’ve found it harder to do my meditation

And So It Begins

Tags

beginnings, counselling, diploma, person-centred, relief

And so it begins. The first day of a two year course (Diploma in person-centred counselling) that is going to thrust me out into a whole new world. I am surprisingly more nervous than I think I am.

Going to the library mid-morning and complaining about my library fine actually stirs up more nerves, along with anger and righteous indignation. It would be easier to pay the fine, especially as I notice that this year we all have to read and sign a piece of paper that clearly states that the library shuts for a fortnight in August. So indirectly they have paid attention. To explain this, I took out books on my interview day back in June, assuming that I could renew them twice which would see me through to September. When I told the library that I was unable to renew them the second time they explained that I should have known to bring them in as the library fully closed for a stock take. I didn’t know this and therefore refused to pay the fine of £7 odd. I had to make a special trip into town to return the books and it really really angered me that there was no notification and that the previous renewal email didn’t say you can’t renew but must return. None of this amounts to anything but it does wind me up, very directly and very emotionally.

We are fifteen this year. One is away on holiday so fourteen were present. Two know nobody, with one coming from elsewhere and the other returning to studying after a period of absence. Most of us therefore still huddle in our little groups from previous courses.

And yet it feels so different from this time last year. There is an implied greater trust that we’ve all done the Certificate so the ones who remain are deadly serious about progressing. This is not a course you can be half-hearted about.

It was a boring day to be fair. We went through the handbook and the paperwork and all that stuff. We all admitted with varying levels, to trepidation, anxiety and fear about the day and ended up feeling relieved. The first great sense of relief was that our tutor is experienced at teaching this course and rattled through the boring stuff with a clear sense of competence. C had her for her Intro course and was very enthusiastic. Our tutor demonstrated her ability to get us through the course and deal with the administrative and paperwork side of it that last year’s was weak in, with it being her first year of teaching. So there was a huge sense of relaxation that the unknown tutor had become the known positive.

The second sense of relief was in meeting our peers, most of whom we’d met in the group interview, and realising that no one had two heads. We are all white (which means nothing necessarily) and had a greater gender balance with 5 men to 10 women. Already some are quieter and some less so but that is to be expected. One person slightly niggled.

When it came to our PD group (personal development), we learned that we would be split into two and wondered how this would happen. In a manner reminiscent of secondary school we all stood up and divided ourselves into two halves. I consciously did not stay with my two peers from last year but stayed with the lesser known and possibly more uncomfortable but more challenging half. Looking at the two facilitators to make a snap judgement about who I wanted was a terrible thing to do. I chose the younger black woman with the really colourful scarf as opposed to the older white woman, with grey hair and bright blue fringe. I suppose on some level I don’t want anyone who reminds me of my mother and went for the more different than me person. What the reality is will only be discovered in time. We had a chat, all seemed well and we were let out an hour early which was unexpected.

That was it then. I did think about the parallels with 4son starting at sixth form who had some team bonding days as well as the more boring induction. We both have organised files, dividers, pens and bags and we are both working towards exams that have or may have the power to change our lives.

It Starts with the Money but Where does it End?

Tags

anxiety, confidence, jobs, money

So on Saturday 3son and I almost descended into a slanging match whilst discussing how much rent he was going to pay. Having agreed on a figure, the fact that housing benefit decided to take £100 pw off really buggered up his calculations. I said to him multiple times that it didn’t matter if it was wrong, but he had to pay it and then argue the toss afterwards.

I felt my body racking itself up into a state of nervous agitation. It was under pressure and the pressure was literally mounting. It took all I had to not let it win and turn into a puddle. I didn’t. This is an issue that we will sort out, just as I have done before.

After a bit of raised voices we sat down and talked like civilised grown ups. Then I opened the post to discover that since they’d accidentally (or for reasons unknown) decided that I didn’t need any housing benefit and between us we could pay the full rent due then they couldn’t recover whatever the disputed figure is from the last six years or so which is somewhere over the £2,000 mark. So they sent an invoice for the full amount.

3son was proud to make a contribution towards the rent. He was less impressed when he realised he’d have to pay more and now none of it would got to me for ‘housekeeping’ let alone paying for all the extras we bought in the run up to him getting paid for the first time.

He turned sensible and said that now he had a job and 4son didn’t need looking after, maybe it was time I got a proper job and earned money that I deserved to get. I immediately started back peddling, although what he said made sense. He then offered to find me one.

3son is of course right. I have kidded myself that I can do my course for two years and then get a job related to my training and move forward, at the same time that 4son finished school and moves on to whatever he is going to do. 3son getting an apprenticeship that is reasonably paid has put a spanner in the works. I may get the figures reduced or I may not but the truth is that I can get a job.

I started looking at jobs, part time that would interest me rather than ones I could do. There are so many that I looked at and thought that I could probably do, but I don’t have the pieces of paper or the past experience. 3son wisely acknowledged that I cannot big myself up in the way he does but kept pointing out jobs that I could do, that I felt no confidence in being able to pass the interview.

Just writing that last paragraph and thinking about job hunting and interviews is enough to make me start shaking again. I have no confidence in my ability to sell my services, let alone bullshit my way into a position that I can probably learn to do but don’t quite feel qualified to. I had my therapist’s words ringing in my ears as well, that women always apply for jobs one grade lower than they should and men apply one level higher.

So my head went from lack of money to job applications. I haven’t touched my CV in some fifteen years or more. The last ‘proper’ job I had was before 2son was born and he’s 20. My CV is shit, written for another time and another area of work. I have no confidence in my ability to pass a job interview. If I could borrow some of 3son’s ability to bullshit I would.

Inevitably my head travels from job applications to stepping out of comfort zones. I can operate how I’ve operated because I have developed my own little comfort zone over the years, picking up work here and there which relied on knowing people and right time, right place. And of course, not being hugely bothered by not earning as tax credits, benefits and all that covered the bill. I knew that I would have to leave this comfort zone but I thought I could wait for them all to turn 18. Well I can’t and I have to start thinking about living in the real world where I’m an adult who can pay her own bills and stick two fingers up to housing benefits. That notion scare me shitless.

From comfort zones to personal progress: when I’m living in my comfort zone, which at least extends beyond the boundary of my house, I’m good. I’m confident, I can express myself, I can push myself a little bit. I can occasionally step out and try new things because I have my comfort zone to run back to. I could get a job in my local pub which would fit in with part time work and course. But people would know me and that just puts me off learning the job in front of them. So for all the progress I have made over the last few years, how far have I actually come and how far do I have to go?

This is what troubles me now, that after three years of private therapy, the best part of two years looking at therapy in a way that has certainly helped my personal development, I am still shaking with fear over the idea of going out into the job world and setting me up on the auction block.

Do I go for something simple that will not challenge me on the basis that just turning up will be a challenge for me, as will getting the job? Or do I push myself for something better, with better pay, that would scare the crap out of me but that I would find rewarding eventually. I think the answer is to sell myself short and go for the easier one/s on the basis that regaining my confidence matters more than the pay. I also have to remember that I need to find somewhere to build my practice hours up, not quite a work placement but something similar. That doesn’t scare me. I have no problem in asking for work that I feel capable and qualified to do, but I do struggle with going beyond my absolute definite capabilities.