Depression, Assholes and Good Things!

November 14th 2013

Portia and I went to Art In The Dark!

When I last wrote, I was struggling through a 'depression attack'. Like a dark front of clouds moving across the water it came, my tears falling steadily through the night. 
Over the years I've learned to read these clouds, to predict when it's a light downpour and when I might need to get a lifeboat ready. I am not in danger of killing myself, I committed to Living a long time ago! Just thought I'd better be clear on that. 

As I write this I'm aware that while many of us struggle with periods of depression and anxiety, there are so many huge things happening in the world that are truly tragic (the Phillipines typhoon for example). Considering such things doesn't make me suddenly snap out of a 'bad patch'. It leads to further over thinking and then I get more anxious and depressed. I have to be especially careful of what I watch and listen to if I see the signs that a depressive front is moving in. A massive trigger is any situation where I feel abandoned or left behind, so I guess one of the things I'm learning during my time on earth is how to make sure I don't abandon my own needs. 

Portia, pale and interesting, gazes out to sea on a cold windy beach visit.

Meditating does help (hugely) as long as I don't get caught in a spiral of negative thought during the meditation! This morning I had to keep everything on track 'observe, observe ... '.
Yesterday I was listening to the news on the car radio and it ended in tears, but I'm like that even when I'm completely 'un-depressed'. A father held a heater to the right side of his five year old boy's face; the attending physician said it is one of the worst burns he'd ever seen. This man held it there, disfiguring his child for life. I may be out of my 'bad patch' but even writing that down brings tears back up into my eyes. I turned off the radio and spoke out loud, as if addressing that child: "I'm so sorry that happened to you. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me." 

creeping around in the park in the dark like a snark

I often feel a massive sense of responsibility for suffering, and when I was young I used to think that if I suffered enough then others wouldn't. That may well have been a huge "Christian Hangover!"

Fortunately, as I saw that dark cloud moving over me, I did all the 'good things' I could think of to help to prevent it from overtaking. Get outside. Eat properly. Call people. Go out. Cry. Move!

ASSHOLES:
Behaving like an asshole and actually BEING one are two different things. I know this because I'm reading "Assholes, A Theory" by Aaron James. All of us are bound to behave like an asshole from time to time, but to be truly defined as one requires consistent behaviours or attitudes in which one
 "systematically allows himself special advantages in interpersonal relations out of an entrenched sense of entitlement that immunizes him against the complaints of other people" (page 4 of Assholes). Assholes are rife (try driving in Auckland), and I'm hoping to better understand how to cope with them upon reading this hilarious and insightful book. I especially like how it shows that an asshole can be charming and even "morally motivated". You can have rather scrappy or boring assholes, but then there are also "dignified assholes".
"Given his sense of his special standing, he claims advantages that he thinks that noone can reasonably deny him. He is resentful or indignant when he feels his rights are not respected, in much the same way a fully sociable, cooperative person is." (page 13).
I'm finding this really useful as I have often dismissed certain behaviours as 'quirky', or I've thought that someone who makes snide and bitchy comments is really just joking. Perhaps not. Perhaps it's a clue that they're an asshole: 

"He is often rude or more often borderline nasty. One feels he has just been intrusive or inconsiderate, though one can't always pinpoint the norm of courtesy he has tread upon. Most important, the asshole gains special advantages from interpersonal relations, not by stroke of continuous luck, but because he regards himself as special. His circumstances are special in each case, in his view, because he is in them. If one is special on one's birthday, the asshole's birthday comes every day." (pg 16). The important thing to remember is that we are all special, but an Asshole tends to think they really are a bit more special than you are (like a star bellied Sneetch or our current foul government).

Good Things
Thanks be to Portia! This little English Rose is restoring my faith in the English Traveller. Most English Travellers (in my experience) have often made Assholing into an art form. They will gladly eat your food, use your things, accept rides everywhere, ask you to drive them to the airport (for far less than the petrol costs) and then bully you if you try to stand up for yourself. They are also often charming and fun to be around. I guess a country that has bullied so many other countries has to produce a good ratio of self entitled snotty beaks. Fortunately Portia doesn't count as one of these! She came to stay for almost a week and it was so much fun! She also has helped me do a massive amount of sorting out in my lovely living space which has cleared my head enormously.

 We did heaps of things together which made me feel like a tourist in my own city. She hugged me when I realised I hadn't been invited to a good friend's birthday event and advised that I 'leave it'. Last night that same person defriended me on facepooh. Very sad and mystifying, but I've decided to do as advised. I shall leave it.

I wish I could be colder sometimes. Only problem is, if I get cold, I get a different kind of depression. The non-feeling one, like you're numb and things just don't seem to touch you. Ugh, hate that one. Haven't had it in years thanks be to the gods. Anyway, the thing is, Have A Depression Plan!

A Depression Kit, or Plan! Most people have a first aid kit, a lot of people pay for insurance for material goods and also for their health. Ten years ago, as I recovered from a breakdown, I knew I needed to do everything I could think of to be healthy and mentally flexible. Not strong, as strong implies a lack of movement, or it gives off that old 'harden up' kind of vibe.
Amazing how a culture that has told people to 'get over it', 'move on' and to 'harden the fuck up' also produces one of the highest suicide rates in the world isn't it? 
 I've attracted a lot of depression or anxiety prone people in my life. I have always been okay with that (like attracts like), yet the problem is, such people find it very hard to cope if I'm the one going through a bad patch. Fortunately, there are people like Handsome Rob, Tieneke, Portia, Tam, The Painter and His Muse, Peter The Tanned, my mum, Jacqui of the old days, Corn Stone, Griz, Daniel H and others who are willing to have friendships that allow for our humanity.

You will also be proud of me: I've finally put the Sexy Ex and Wylie in their place. This means no contact at all. Upon reading "Assholes" I have discovered that they really are assholes, and not even particularly charming ones at that. I know. I had to read a book called Assholes to figure that out? As for The Rooster, he sent a very nice early birthday greeting which I appreciated. 

In addition to the gorgeous time with Portia, I also have caught up with other wonderful people over the last month or two. That includes Raewyn, Griz, Corn, Rob and Tam. Tam's baby is a year old now and he is so funny and adorable. Rob and I did go for that walk over to White Beach and it was really revitalising and uplifting! As for my birthday, it will be fine. I guess there is a gift in absence, and if I keep taking notice, it's the gift of peace. I would also like to thank those who read my blog as I have now had well over 10,000 views. I can't imagine who you are really, that person in Latvia or Russia, or perhaps the USA, and if there's anything in these ramblings that's of use, but thanks for being there. Lots of Love to All! And remember, we are all equally special! xxxx

How to recognise an abusive 'Friend' (and my new fave song!)

March 25th 2012

Left: wow, took this last week, a praying mantis shedding it's skin. Gorgeous!

Well I'm enjoying The Boxcar Rattle; they're getting a bit of air play on BFM. Love it. Lots of energyyyy.

Today I was looking back at my old diaries. I was thinking about my old (now ex) friend 'Rose'. Her birthday is coming up, and it will be the first time in 18 years that I haven't gone all out looking for beautiful things for her. We have a lot of history together. I don't exactly miss her; she had a habit of not being entirely present for me when the going got rough. So what do you do when a friendship is 'completed', especially a long one?

RECOGNISING A NARCISSIST ...

I recently found a great article on the Oprah site by Martha Beck. It talked about recognising a narcissist personality and that it's rare this kind of person will see reason if you step outside the assigned 'role'. It's hard to imagine that someone quiet and shy could be the one doing the manipulating. Looking at one excerpt from a 1997 diary I am amazed that I allowed myself to be treated the way I was. I was recovering from my fractured pelvis and displaced left hip, and still on crutches. I was really fragile physically and emotionally:

10th February 1997 (names changed)

Rose and I were really honest with each other about a week ago. She mainly needed to tell me I had hurt her feelings when I had snapped at her sometimes, and she was feeling resentful.

One night when I stayed over at her place I was meant to sleep in with her, but Barry, her boyfriend, had come over, so I got left in the lounge with nothing. I slept on the floor. If it wasn't for Logan's friend Peter, I wouldn't even have had a blanket.

I thought the whole thing was a mistake, but it turns out she knew she'd done it and didn't know what to do, so took the coward's way and went to sleep. Really, I think I am still angry about that, but I let her off lightly to start with as I knew she was drunk etc.

Now that I know she purposely left me out there, I feel like I can't trust her. I would NEVER do that to her.

I'd forgotten about this until I re-read that diary thismorning. In fact, there are a lot of things like this that happened throughout our friendship that I continually forgave or over looked because I really loved her. Sadly, it's obvious that her habit of being resentful did keep popping up over the years, and my habit of being her Echo and doing whatever I could to save the friendship persisted. After awhile you realise you can't do it anymore. Martha Beck writes about it beautifully:

Martha Beck article from Oprah site:

Imagine what this friend's response would be if you stopped playing your part or stepped into hers. Would she be shocked or angry? Would she ice you, scold you, drop off your social calendar? If so, I'm afraid that particular connection isn't exactly a friendship. Rigid roles enforced by social pressure add up to something else—something I call a naiad dyad. Naiads are mythological nymphs who ruled the rivers and springs of ancient Greece. One of these watery demigoddesses had a famously handsome son named Narcissus, who attracted many admirers, none more admiring than himself. He fell so madly in love with his own reflection that he did nothing but stare at it. Narcissus's friends found this daunting—all, that is, except for another nymph named Echo, whose curse (naiads were highly curse-prone) was that she couldn't voice her own thoughts, only repeat words spoken by others.

In their twisted way, Narcissus and Echo were ideal companions. Both were obsessed with the same person (him), and both expressed the same thoughts, ideas, and opinions (his). I'm sure the next-door satyrs thought their relationship was perfect. Not so much. In one version of the story, Narcissus, unable to work out the logistics of being in love with himself, plunged a dagger into his heart and was transformed into a flower. Echo, devastated, wandered off to haunt canyons and glens, repeating random sentiments shouted by strangers.

I have to say, I really did teach Rose that it was okay to be manipulative in our friendship as I let her get away with it for so long. I tried to be honest all the time, and of course I also have my faults, but I guess the difference is that I do know my faults and I'll admit to them readily.

Take a look at your friendships. Do you have to 'tip toe' around that person in case the love or friendship will be withdrawn from you? The same goes for romantic relationships; if you have to work that hard to keep someone's favour, it might not be worth being 'in favour'. I used to think it was always up to me to work, work, work at loving and rescuing people. Of course our child hood patterns set us up for this, but we are no longer children. It's time to grow up. You can walk away now. You don't have to stay and put up with quiet manipulations or passive agressive behaviour. That sounds simple but may require help. That's the journey we undertake.

Rose had her own issues; food addiction and unresolved grief. People with addiction issues sometimes appear to stagnate at the age they started to deal with life through the addictive behaviour. Her actual intelligence might be at a reasonable level, but emotional intelligence may suffer due to denial. The denial carries over into other areas of life. That's why programmes like AA or Overeaters Anonymous are so important; it shifts a person out of denial and then they can get a handle on the feelings and fears they swallowed. I still hope Rose gets help and is able to look after herself properly as a result.

So let's take a look at how a real friend treats you. She or he allows for your humanity. She won't let resentments build up until you're being made to sleep on the floor with broken bones.

She or he will trust the kindness and love you've shown rather than focusing on the one mistake you make. There's a big difference between making an honest mistake and someone deliberately hurting you. Rose had a history of finding ways to deliberately withdraw her love or to hurt me, yet I continually saw her as sweet and beloved. I was her Echo. I kept choosing to believe she hadn't meant to be unkind. Big mistake. It's like a man who keeps a woman on a tight leash, a man who tells a woman she's a goddess one day and a slut the next; it's a power play and it's not cool.

As you grow in authentic power, you will find these kind of manipulators and bullies dropping out of your life. It's good to take responsibility for your own mistakes; I know I have to sometimes hold my tongue; mum tells me I can be really scathing. Ha, Andrew likes it when I'm scathing, he thinks it's funny. He says I need to be 'less tolerant' and I think that might be working for me in some strange way.

Having said that, I think what he really means is that I shouldn't take shit, and so my friend, neither should you. Be honest, take responsibility for your own issues whatever they may be, but to keep letting someone be unkind or resentful towards you for not behaving exactly as they want ... that's a whole lot of hard work you don't need.

As far as letting go is concerned, it's easier when you start noticing how difficult it is for the Narcissist friend to be there for you when the going gets rough. A Narcissist is there for herself or himself and even if they make the right noises "oh you poor thing" they won't front up with the goods when you really need them, in fact, they may attack you or abandon you. What are 'the goods'?

The goods; what is the delivery?

No Goods:

When I went through my terrible depression last year (a few months worth) I reached out to Rose and asked if I could stay with her one night as I was so low. I basically begged. She said no. She said her flat was "busy till next year". Oh. So she couldn't have me over for one single night for a period of nearly three months?

I was surprised, but not entirely. You reach a point where you realise the Narcissist friend's lack of support should be accepted without complaint or question (or she'll leave you). As it turns out, tolerating this kind of 'fair weather friend' behaviour just reinforces it ... it's like being friends with a massive toddler.

The Delivery:

I then rang my dear friend Lisa. She invited me to stay as soon as possible for an entire weekend. She held me when I cried. She had my favourite wine waiting in the fridge and had gone and bought beef for a roast meal. I was treated like the most beloved sister. The spare bed was made up with lovely fresh sheets. She sat and listened when I poured out my heart and assured me I would get through it.

If you are on the shit end of the stick, then you are bound to have had a few (or more) of these kind of experiences. For some reason, your loyalty and love stops you from calling the person out. You make up excuses for them. You know they wouldn't mean to be unkind or thoughtless. Well wake up sunshine, cos I've been there too many times, and I'm over it. I hope you're getting to that point too, if you've been the Echo in a friendship for too long.

Take courage. You won't miss them as much as you think. Other kinder people will enter your life, and you'll notice that you don't have to 'be careful' all the time of what you say or do in case it's being stored away and stewed over. I will never again be friends with someone who deliberately hurts me.

So happy birthday Rose. I hope you get everything you ever dreamed of and all that you deserve.

;)

Accidentally Stoned at Bikram Yoga, A good Date, More Dicky Internet Names and the End of A Friendship!

KNOW WHEN TO FOLD 'EM!



On Friday I visited a friend I’ll call Hal, went to Bikram Yoga and then sashayed into the evening for an internet date. At Hal’s I shared melon liqueur with tonic water, drank black coffee (no milk available) and ate icecream with chocolate sauce. This was before Hal even lit up a joint.

As you may or may not know, I can’t partake because I don’t really want to. Do you want me to move slowly, find it hard to speak and then fall asleep? If that was the goal, then that would be the drug for me! I politely declined, but of course must have accidentally inhaled during the course of breathing in the small living room space.

As a result, doing Yoga in a heated room ended up being very difficult indeed. I thought I was going to faint or vomit, or maybe both. Maybe I could vomit and then fall into it for good measure. I spent most of the class breathing deeply through my nose, lying flat on my back, sweating profusely. Fortunately the nausea and light headedness passed and I ended up feeling amazing. A few women in the changing room were really kind to me. One girl, stripped clean of any fat whatsoever, said she noticed I was completely grey at one point and was ready to perform first aid if necessary. Aw, how nice is that?

I showered and drank copious amounts of water, changed into my ‘innocent blue frock’ and turquoise shoes ready for my date. I was quite ready to meet with someone pleasant and boring and make the best of it, but he ended up being attractive with sparkling blue eyes and a ready smile. Yum.

He’s one of those people who gets better looking the more you look at them. I didn’t blurt out how much I liked his nose or anything, the way I might usually do when I fancy a man.

We’re seeing each other again next week. I was a bit more forthright than usual and he really appreciated it. I’m normally afraid of hurting people and tend to tip toe around a little bit, always trying to make sure I’m not misunderstood.

I told Lisa how I spoke to this lovely man and she said
“oh if he can take that then he doesn’t have a big ego. That’s good”

A man who is excessively egoic or too fragile won’t cope if you’re a bit full on, but the one who can take it is obviously not afraid to laugh at himself and at life.

Installment Two of Internet Dating Nicknames:

Today dear ones, I decided to search under nicknames using a simple formula. Who, I wondered, might nick name themselves something really stupid, like ‘dickhead’? Well, it turns out, more than you’d think. I would guess that many of these have been created as a joke ... but what if some of them were not? What then, would this mean? It would mean we have way too many dickheads in NZ.

Search 1: type in ‘dick’

These are my favourites.

Dickosaurus (32, Auckland): this is kind of cute actually. Least offensive.

Dickname (52, Auckland): his name is Dick and so he thought it would be really cutesy to play on that fact. He’s been given a lot of shit about Dick all his life, so now he’s going to play it like the Muppet in the episode where Kenny Rogers sings “the gambler”. Know when to fold ‘em Dick, know when to fold ‘em.

Dickwad (72, Auckland): this one is a joke. A man of 72 isn’t going to call himself Dickwad. But what if he did? What if it was a nasty, smelly, angry old man jerking off in his crusty old Y-fronts and telling people to fuck off?

Dickcheez (52, Nelson Bays): Likewise, I can’t see this being someone’s real profile. Why would someone admit to dick cheese?

The winner in the dick search is (cockin’ drum roll please):
DICK HOLE (Dunedin, 20): This could be a sad country song –

“I’m in Dunedin and I’m sad and lonely
lookin’ at my dick and wishin’ you’d phone me
You know I don’t love ya but I want ya to blow me

ohhhh, my dick hole, ohhhhh oh, my magic dick hole!
(imagine enthusiastic crowd joining in)

Sing it with me!

I asked you if you’d sit on it
but you want no part of the magic slit
cos it’s all clogged up with shit and grit

oh, ohhhhhhhhhhhh my magic dick hole!”

Sorry. That was uncalled for. It appears that my humour might fall under ‘horrible teenage boy’ category at times. So be it.

Search 2: ‘bum’

The only good one that came up was BUM CHUM (46, Wairarapa), and I’m glad it’s in capitals, because you know, the message may not have otherwise got through.

Search 3: ‘wank’

Wanky (28, Upper Hutt): Oh wanky, I’ve longed for this connection. As soon as I saw your dating nick name I felt this stirring in my heart and knew we were meant to be together.

Wankey (26, Otorahanga): So this is special – you wank, but it’s a key. You’re a clever young man. If only you were in Auckland!

Search 4: ‘lick’

Lick clit (24, Christchurch): Christchurch might be falling apart, but at least there’s a young man doing his part. Oh Lick Clit, you inspire me.

Lickmymince (24, Rotorua): Most intriguing! So, do you really have a plate of mince you’d like me to lick, or are your genitals so mutilated that they resemble mince? It’s quite confusing, I’d love to know more, but Rotorua is a long way to go. Tell you what, throw in a visit to the Polynesian Spa and maybe I’ll consider it.


Sunday 8th January

Ah, it’s still raining folks. Watched “Never Let Me Go” last night. Dark, depressing, sad and yet quite satisfying. I must be over my depression if I can watch something like that. I came to the conclusion that it was a clever way to demonstrate how people do not question the status quo, that the people who are cloned do not rise up and rebel against what is inhumane and disgusting because it’s ‘for the greater good’.

I also liked the simplicity in it – that we all need to have a reason to live, and to love and be loved. The value of life increases when you have to fight for it.

Speaking of value, I have a friendship of 18 years that has finally died. I had done a prayer of sorts awhile ago, asking for that which needed to die in my life to do so, so that new growth and goodness could come in. The following day, this friend, who I will call Rose, got annoyed with me about something trivial. She didn’t communicate properly about it, and it followed an old pattern in our friendship that I’ve become weary of.

Nothing I ever do or say reassures Rose; she’s always measuring the friendship, making mental (and literal) notes of anything I do ‘wrong’. Years ago she wrote a long letter to me listing all the things I’d done wrong in the previous year, attacking me and saying how selfish I was. Her timing was brilliant. I was recovering from the worst breakdown I’ve ever had or am likely to have in my life. The things on the list were bizarre, as if she’d been scratching around in an old barrel to find fault with me.
Things like ‘you didn’t light the candle for my birthday’, when she had told me she wasn’t sure she wanted me to even do it! When I pointed this out, she refused to even hear me out. She said that none of it had ever been misunderstandings, that I had purposely done these things to hurt her. Um, right, because that’s what I’m all about.

Most recently I’d asked if I could stay at her place for one night when I was in the midst of my lovely ‘surprise depression’. I needed a friend; I needed a change of scene. I was a mess.

She said no, that wouldn’t be possible until the new year (which was a few months away at the time). Instead I asked Lisa, and not only did she say yes, she treated me like a Queen. The contrast was glaring.

God knows, I did still try this time. I emailed saying I wanted to save the friendship but that she needs to take responsibility for her emotions. She wrote in an email that she won’t explain herself or take ‘all the blame’ and that the friendship was over. Blame for what? I don’t blame her. I think that once again, she’s imagined a rejection coming from me because she rejects herself. This has nothing to do with me. She’s imagining all sorts of hurt where none exists, because she needs to be a victim, to play a role she’s comfortable with. And no, she doesn’t read my blog, never has.

Farewell Rose. It was a pretty wonderful friendship, but a lot depended on how willing I was to play the part you assigned me. I don’t need it anymore, but I will always hold love in my heart for you. It would have been great if you’d had the courage to admit you over reacted, the courage to be the strong one in the friendship for once.

Life is too wonderful to spend time trying to prove to someone that they are lovable. You can never assure someone else enough. You can’t debase yourself enough. You can say sorry when you’ve done nothing wrong, but again, it will never fill the hole inside them. You have to let them go with love and hope they find their way. I feel good. I know I have been a fucking awesome friend and given absolutely everything I could, but I can’t sacrifice my soul. That’s asking just a little too much.

Instead, I have time for friends who allow me my humanity, who are willing to talk about it if they feel hurt, and I do the same. Otherwise you end up shutting everyone out, suspicious and fragile, willing to judge others and make them guilty.

Here’s to love. x