"Over-functioning: I won't feel, I will do. I don't need help, I help."
I've been reading Brene Brown's Rising Strong. I've read The Gifts of Imperfection and Daring Greatly. This is the next one in the suggested reading order. The quote above is on page 171 and when I read it, I immediately thought to myself "that's me. That is how I handle things."
Over-functioners are often the oldest child, and that is the case in my situation.
For the last 20 years I've been pushing feelings to one side in order that Rhys and Tracey got the support they needed. I've done my best to keep my feelings hidden rather than show them.
I've let other people's behaviour and attitudes wash over me.
Instead I've thrown myself into doing things, like running and triathlons. I've driven to and from Bristol whenever Rhys needed treatment. I've skipped trips away because I needed to be at the hospital with him when he's been ill.
Accepting help is something that I've also found difficult to do, even help from friends. I've spent so much of my life being independent, doing things for myself, providing for myself, that it's hard to turn around to people and say "I need help". I'm not the one who asks for help, I'm the one who helps. Even when I have things going on that mean I shouldn't be able to help others.
Over-functioning. That's definitely me.
Rising Strong - Brene Brown (Published 2015, Vermillion, ISBN 978-0-09195-503-8)
Monday, 20 May 2019
TGIF 20th May
A belated TGIF. I was busy over the weekend so didn't have the time to put fingers to keyboard.
Trust
On Saturday I once again put my trust in my hairdresser to work her magic. I had my hair coloured red with some blonde highlights thrown in for good measure. I also had my hair cut a bit shorter than normal. Once again Lou worked her magic and we were both happy with the result.
Gratitude
I'm grateful to the woman who gave me directions back to Yeovil on Sunday. I'd gone out for what should have been an hour and a half bike ride. Heading towards Crewkerne, I decided to take a back route towards Yeovil. Finding myself on the main Crewkerne to Yeovil road I chose a side road so that I'd have a quieter route to ride. Heading towards West Chinnock and Chiselborough I quickly found myself at a T-junction with not indications of which way to go. Fortunately, a lady came out of her house as I was trying to figure out which way to go. After asking for directions I headed back, initially on foot, but eventually on two wheels towards home.
In the end my bike ride took me almost 2 hours but I enjoyed being out in the countryside so it was a nice 2 hours.
Inspiration
Watching friends practice troupe routines for our up and coming show at Home Farm Festival inspires me. I'm so lucky to have some amazingly, supportive women as friends.
Fun
The two days that we spent at work marking IDAHOBIT (International Day Against Homophobia, Biphobia and Transphobia) were a lot of fun. Dressing up in colourful leggings, as well as tee-shirts, boots and earrings was different to my normal work attire.
Trust
On Saturday I once again put my trust in my hairdresser to work her magic. I had my hair coloured red with some blonde highlights thrown in for good measure. I also had my hair cut a bit shorter than normal. Once again Lou worked her magic and we were both happy with the result.
Gratitude
I'm grateful to the woman who gave me directions back to Yeovil on Sunday. I'd gone out for what should have been an hour and a half bike ride. Heading towards Crewkerne, I decided to take a back route towards Yeovil. Finding myself on the main Crewkerne to Yeovil road I chose a side road so that I'd have a quieter route to ride. Heading towards West Chinnock and Chiselborough I quickly found myself at a T-junction with not indications of which way to go. Fortunately, a lady came out of her house as I was trying to figure out which way to go. After asking for directions I headed back, initially on foot, but eventually on two wheels towards home.
In the end my bike ride took me almost 2 hours but I enjoyed being out in the countryside so it was a nice 2 hours.
Inspiration
Watching friends practice troupe routines for our up and coming show at Home Farm Festival inspires me. I'm so lucky to have some amazingly, supportive women as friends.
Fun
The two days that we spent at work marking IDAHOBIT (International Day Against Homophobia, Biphobia and Transphobia) were a lot of fun. Dressing up in colourful leggings, as well as tee-shirts, boots and earrings was different to my normal work attire.
Tuesday, 14 May 2019
Sometimes you just need the right words
I'm sitting on the bed writing this post. I'd been starting to write another post about over-functioning because it's something I needed to work through so I don't forget about it before my next counselling session.
I've been keeping several journals, some with daily prompts, one free-form. At the same time I've been reading Paulo Coelho's Manual of the Warrior of Light, I'm reading one entry each day, like a daily meditation prompt.
Writing my over-functioning post I was contemplating phoning in to work and taking the day off, finishing that post and then working on some of the exercises for my photography course. Something made me pick up the Manual and read the next entry.
"When a warrior is the victim of some injustice, he usually tries to be alone, in order not to show his pain to others."
The more in-depth text included:
"It is one thing to allow one's heart to heal its wounds slowly, but it is quite another to sit all day in deep contemplation for fear of seeming weak."
This is exactly what I was on the verge of doing. Sitting down all day, ostensibly to do course work, but in reality avoiding work because I'm struggling with some aspects of it.
Those aspects of the job aren't going to go away because I hide away for a day. They'll still be there tomorrow when I go back in to the office.
Rather than run away from things for a day or two I need to face them, deal with them and put them behind me.
The timing of reading today's entry was fortuitous because if I'd left it until later in the day I wouldn't have been able to do anything about it, just reflect on the fact that I'd done something that, most likely, wasn't in my best interests.
I've been keeping several journals, some with daily prompts, one free-form. At the same time I've been reading Paulo Coelho's Manual of the Warrior of Light, I'm reading one entry each day, like a daily meditation prompt.
Writing my over-functioning post I was contemplating phoning in to work and taking the day off, finishing that post and then working on some of the exercises for my photography course. Something made me pick up the Manual and read the next entry.
"When a warrior is the victim of some injustice, he usually tries to be alone, in order not to show his pain to others."
The more in-depth text included:
"It is one thing to allow one's heart to heal its wounds slowly, but it is quite another to sit all day in deep contemplation for fear of seeming weak."
This is exactly what I was on the verge of doing. Sitting down all day, ostensibly to do course work, but in reality avoiding work because I'm struggling with some aspects of it.
Those aspects of the job aren't going to go away because I hide away for a day. They'll still be there tomorrow when I go back in to the office.
Rather than run away from things for a day or two I need to face them, deal with them and put them behind me.
The timing of reading today's entry was fortuitous because if I'd left it until later in the day I wouldn't have been able to do anything about it, just reflect on the fact that I'd done something that, most likely, wasn't in my best interests.
Sunday, 12 May 2019
Not Immortal
I should have been doing the Immortal Half at Stourhead today. I went along yesterday and registered so I was all set to race.
My training has been going really well so I know I could have finished the race.
Nerves weren't too bad yesterday. Until we went to bed.
I woke up around 1 o'clock this morning and suddenly everything exploded.
The doubts about why I'm doing all this training and the races started. When Rhys died I set out to do some races and failing to do those ended up with me on anti-depressants and having bereavement counselling.
I've been doing triathlons for a number of years now and long before Rhys died my aim was to do an Ironman distance triathlon. It's still something I want to do but because I tied it all up with a promise to Rhys last year I still have part of that as the reason for doing it. I need to break that link or else I'm going to really struggle with doing what I've set out to do with my coaches.
On top of that I've been struggling with enthusiasm for things and feeling motivated. My training and rehearsing with the Burleskin girls have been things that have kept me going but other things just don't have the say interest for me. Even work is a struggle.
I enjoy doing things at work that aren't part of my "day job". I'm doing something really meaningful helping people and making a difference to their working lives. It's the "day job" that I'm struggling with. The work has gotten repetitive and isn't challenging.
Last week I had to go to the hospital with Tracey and in the last 10 minutes before I finished and left to pick her up I was trying to solve some problems and I found myself really engaged. Brain cells firing, knowing exactly what I needed to do. Leaving work I was actually frustrated that I didn't have longer to finish what I was doing. Just that brief amount of pressure made so much difference to me.
At 2:30 this morning, Tracey and I were sat in the living room drinking mugs of tea. I'd switched the alarm on my bedside clock off and when Tracey asked me why I said about not racing today. When I came downstairs for some tea she decided to come down as well because she wasn't sleeping at that time either.
For the first time in ages, as we sat there, I opened up and told her that I couldn't race today because I wasn't ready for it and that I was afraid that if I did race I would put myself back to where I was last summer and that is a dangerous place I don't want to revisit. I told Tracey that I've been struggling for weeks now.
Tracey suggested that part of the reason I'm struggling is because I've lost both my parents and haven't had the time to grieve properly for them. She said the way that she's dealt with losing her Dad, Aunts and Uncle is to tell herself that they are looking after Rhys. I do that too. I tell myself that Mum and Dad are looking after Rhys.
What I didn't tell Tracey is that I blame myself for not going up to Wales on the Friday before Dad died when he rang me to tell me he'd fallen again. Following the hospital's advice and agreeing with Dad that he should ring his GP and get them to come out and check him over was the worst thing I even did. I should have gone up to Wales that day. If I had I would have seen how he was and got him into hospital which might have made a difference.
The same with Mum. We saw her the day before she passed away but I decided to come home rather than staying there another day. If we'd stayed that extra night we'd have been there when Dad woke up to find that she'd passed away in the night.
The same with Rhys. I came home the morning that he passed away. By the time I got back to the hospital he'd died.
The times that all of them needed me to be there for them and I failed them. I let them down.
No matter how hard I try I'm never going to be able to get over the guilt about how I failed them. I'll never really be able to forgive myself. The only people that can forgive me are dead and there's no way that I can have their forgiveness in this lifetime.
I've made a lot of progress since last summer but it's a fragile state of affairs. I still find myself thinking of killing myself. Not in an active way but it wouldn't take much to push me over that edge. For so long I was really strong, I was there for Tracey and Rhys, I was the rock in the Cancer storm that battered our lives. I was a source of strength that Tracey and Rhys could rely on.
Now I don't feel very strong. I can barely hold on at times, just about have enough strength to get me through the day without screaming my head off.
For such a long time I knew who I was, knew what my purpose was in life was and now I don't. Now I'm having to figure out who I am and what my purpose is. It's a struggle. My mental health is a fragile thing.
I can hear Steph, my counsellor, and the questions she'd be asking me, the things that she'd be saying.
In the night I was feeling nervous, about the race, about the distances, about the swim. Those nerves magnified and kept me awake. I also found myself experiencing the feeling that I'm letting Rhys down again as well as my coaches who've worked hard with me to get me where I am. I found myself wondering why I put myself through this. The early mornings, the long days racing.
I've been trying to do things on my own. Trying to keep going and putting a happy face on for everyone when happy is the last thing I've been feeling. Tired, sad, depressed, bored, frustrated. I've definitely been feeling all that. Happy is something I've felt only occasionally, and then it's when I've done something that gives me a sense of achievement, and for me that takes a lot to do right now.
As much as I feel I've let my coaches and myself down by not racing, I needed to reach this crisis point, and it is a crisis point. I could easily have raced. Whether I finished or not doesn't matter. I'd have physically tired myself out by racing and I'd have struggled even more than I have been, but more importantly, I wouldn't have found myself facing up to how I'm feeling right now. I'd have carried on in the same way I have been until I reached the point that something broke, and broke big time. Now I have the chance to put things right before they break.
My training has been going really well so I know I could have finished the race.
Nerves weren't too bad yesterday. Until we went to bed.
I woke up around 1 o'clock this morning and suddenly everything exploded.
The doubts about why I'm doing all this training and the races started. When Rhys died I set out to do some races and failing to do those ended up with me on anti-depressants and having bereavement counselling.
I've been doing triathlons for a number of years now and long before Rhys died my aim was to do an Ironman distance triathlon. It's still something I want to do but because I tied it all up with a promise to Rhys last year I still have part of that as the reason for doing it. I need to break that link or else I'm going to really struggle with doing what I've set out to do with my coaches.
On top of that I've been struggling with enthusiasm for things and feeling motivated. My training and rehearsing with the Burleskin girls have been things that have kept me going but other things just don't have the say interest for me. Even work is a struggle.
I enjoy doing things at work that aren't part of my "day job". I'm doing something really meaningful helping people and making a difference to their working lives. It's the "day job" that I'm struggling with. The work has gotten repetitive and isn't challenging.
Last week I had to go to the hospital with Tracey and in the last 10 minutes before I finished and left to pick her up I was trying to solve some problems and I found myself really engaged. Brain cells firing, knowing exactly what I needed to do. Leaving work I was actually frustrated that I didn't have longer to finish what I was doing. Just that brief amount of pressure made so much difference to me.
At 2:30 this morning, Tracey and I were sat in the living room drinking mugs of tea. I'd switched the alarm on my bedside clock off and when Tracey asked me why I said about not racing today. When I came downstairs for some tea she decided to come down as well because she wasn't sleeping at that time either.
For the first time in ages, as we sat there, I opened up and told her that I couldn't race today because I wasn't ready for it and that I was afraid that if I did race I would put myself back to where I was last summer and that is a dangerous place I don't want to revisit. I told Tracey that I've been struggling for weeks now.
Tracey suggested that part of the reason I'm struggling is because I've lost both my parents and haven't had the time to grieve properly for them. She said the way that she's dealt with losing her Dad, Aunts and Uncle is to tell herself that they are looking after Rhys. I do that too. I tell myself that Mum and Dad are looking after Rhys.
What I didn't tell Tracey is that I blame myself for not going up to Wales on the Friday before Dad died when he rang me to tell me he'd fallen again. Following the hospital's advice and agreeing with Dad that he should ring his GP and get them to come out and check him over was the worst thing I even did. I should have gone up to Wales that day. If I had I would have seen how he was and got him into hospital which might have made a difference.
The same with Mum. We saw her the day before she passed away but I decided to come home rather than staying there another day. If we'd stayed that extra night we'd have been there when Dad woke up to find that she'd passed away in the night.
The same with Rhys. I came home the morning that he passed away. By the time I got back to the hospital he'd died.
The times that all of them needed me to be there for them and I failed them. I let them down.
No matter how hard I try I'm never going to be able to get over the guilt about how I failed them. I'll never really be able to forgive myself. The only people that can forgive me are dead and there's no way that I can have their forgiveness in this lifetime.
I've made a lot of progress since last summer but it's a fragile state of affairs. I still find myself thinking of killing myself. Not in an active way but it wouldn't take much to push me over that edge. For so long I was really strong, I was there for Tracey and Rhys, I was the rock in the Cancer storm that battered our lives. I was a source of strength that Tracey and Rhys could rely on.
Now I don't feel very strong. I can barely hold on at times, just about have enough strength to get me through the day without screaming my head off.
For such a long time I knew who I was, knew what my purpose was in life was and now I don't. Now I'm having to figure out who I am and what my purpose is. It's a struggle. My mental health is a fragile thing.
I can hear Steph, my counsellor, and the questions she'd be asking me, the things that she'd be saying.
In the night I was feeling nervous, about the race, about the distances, about the swim. Those nerves magnified and kept me awake. I also found myself experiencing the feeling that I'm letting Rhys down again as well as my coaches who've worked hard with me to get me where I am. I found myself wondering why I put myself through this. The early mornings, the long days racing.
I've been trying to do things on my own. Trying to keep going and putting a happy face on for everyone when happy is the last thing I've been feeling. Tired, sad, depressed, bored, frustrated. I've definitely been feeling all that. Happy is something I've felt only occasionally, and then it's when I've done something that gives me a sense of achievement, and for me that takes a lot to do right now.
As much as I feel I've let my coaches and myself down by not racing, I needed to reach this crisis point, and it is a crisis point. I could easily have raced. Whether I finished or not doesn't matter. I'd have physically tired myself out by racing and I'd have struggled even more than I have been, but more importantly, I wouldn't have found myself facing up to how I'm feeling right now. I'd have carried on in the same way I have been until I reached the point that something broke, and broke big time. Now I have the chance to put things right before they break.
Friday, 10 May 2019
TGIF 10th May
I really don't know where this week has gone. It seems to have passed in a blur. This weekend is going to be an interesting one as I'm taking part in the Immortal Half at Stourhead. A middle distance triathlon. I'm looking forward to it, with a bit of nervousness. It will be an experience however it goes.
Trust
I'm trusting that all the rehearsals we are doing at Burleskin will get me ready to perform the group routines at Home Farm Festival.
Gratitude
I'm grateful for Batty. She's a great friend and I'm so lucky to have her in my life.
Inspiration
I feel inspired by Caster Semnya. Her determination to race despite all the efforts of the IAAF to prevent her racing against other women without giving up the advantage that nature gave her, is amazing.
Fun
I enjoyed swimming on Thursday evening. Even though the pool was crowded, especially my lane, and it was quite choppy because of the number of people swimming, I managed to complete my easy swim. I even had someone say that they thought I had good form, certainly better than other people in the pool who were frantically hitting the water with their arms in order to go faster and so causing a lot of splash.
Sunday, 5 May 2019
TGIF
Thought I'd try out Brene Brown's TGIF activity.
Trust
I'm trusting that my coaches will get me where I aim to be in the next two years with my triathlons.
Gratitude
I'm grateful for all the help I get from my triathlon coaches and also all the friends I've made through Pink Kitten and Burleskin.
Inspiration
I feel inspired by my friends, who despite everything, get out there and do stuff.
Fun
I enjoy meeting up with people and having a good old fashioned catch up.
Trust
I'm trusting that my coaches will get me where I aim to be in the next two years with my triathlons.
Gratitude
I'm grateful for all the help I get from my triathlon coaches and also all the friends I've made through Pink Kitten and Burleskin.
Inspiration
I feel inspired by my friends, who despite everything, get out there and do stuff.
Fun
I enjoy meeting up with people and having a good old fashioned catch up.
Saturday, 4 May 2019
Emotionally Tired
Feeling oh so tired today.
Not physically despite having got nearly every one of my training sessions for the week in. Maybe not always on the right day but I've managed to get everything in this week. I've even seen some huge improvements in some cases.
I think it's more of an emotional tiredness, a weariness of the soul.
Outside the house children and adults are playing, the sound of a football being kicked comes through the window. I remember when Rhys and I used to play football, rugby and other games outside.
Listening to the sounds from outside, the noise of people, the wind blowing through the leaves on the tree making them rustle. My mind goes to a dark place and I imagine myself climbing onto the windowsill, leaning backwards out of the open window and letting myself drop the ground outside. I'd probably survive the fall and end up in hospital, or with my luck, survive unscathed.
I won't do that though. I'll just let the tiredness wash over me for a while, get a nights sleep and see what tomorrow brings. A better, less emotionally exhausted one I hope.
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