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Even children get older, and I'm getting older too
You will live in Apartment.
You will drive a Green Lexus.
You will marry David Duchovny and have 3 kids.
You will be a Teacher in San Francisco
Hee, works for me. Let's just hope David stays at his current age until I catch up with him, and doesn't mind living in an apartment. And, dude, green lexus? Hmm, I'll have to think about that. But everything else is good! I mean, hi, I marry Sexy McLickMe, have ten thousand of his babies (er, I mean, three), drive a Lexus (we can paint it), work as a teacher and live in San Francisco where I can hang with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
auroura76 and jasminelily! Sweet.
Some sneaky damn spider bit me on my knee! He was probably seeking revenge for his brother, whom I flushed down the toilet the other day.
(Oh, and psst: Dosi, I'm using this LJ icon special for you, today. Hee. And I trust you'll let me know if I used "whom" there, incorrectly, yes? If I did, we can just blame it on the nutra sweet. The all purpose excuse. Gotta love it.)
I started this entry last Thursday, but put it on pause because I didn't have time to finish it. So, I'll just post what I wrote then, and continue from where I left off. Sound good? Excellent. Oh, and a warning: This will be the first in a series of verrrrrry long entries (each covering recent stuff). Like, no. Really. I would think everyone expects that from me by now, though.
That would be me! I admit, it's a little bitter sweet, because I liked my classes. The poly sci one didn't have as good of a class dynamic, and the teacher wasn't perfect, but I liked what I was learning. And the women's studies class didn't necessarily teach me all sorts of enlightening things, but some of the reading was interesting enough, and I liked the discussions we had in there a lot. And the people were nice. And speaking of that, I'm glad my first presentation since going back to school was with that class, where I liked most of the people and they seemed engaged in what I was saying, asking questions and stuff. It made it easier, causing it to feel more like another discussion, almost. Not so formal.
The presentation itself went pretty well, I have to say. I might've shook a little, but it wasn't big, and I didn't even pay attention to it mostly. Once I got up there, and got past the first few words, I think the part of me that used to do our big presentations in High School every semester came out and took over. Almost like riding a bike, you know? Especially since--as ironic as it is, considering my fear--I do know that there's a part of me that's a natural at public speaking. I mean, it's not like I forgot how to give a good speech, or that I lost the ability. I just have the social anxiety-induced fears, and worries over having a panic attack up there, which stood as an obstacle between me and that skill. It's times like these though when I am way grateful for the High School I went to, just because it gave me so much practice with it. Because how much harder would this have been, if I hadn't at least had the confidence over knowing how to give a proper presentation? At least I have all that experience to fall back on, and don't have to worry about that on top of the rest.
Seeing my doctor today helped too. We went over my BYOCC sheet for the presentation, and talked about it for the whole hour, basically. I had three Rational Responses for it, and he tossed two of them, because I had thinking errors in them. Hee. Sorry, but that kind of amuses me. I have thinking errors even in my freaking "rational" responses! For crying out loud. I was telling myself "it'll get easier", just because I've found that during times when I've signed my name in the past, I usually feel a twinge of panic at first and my hand will kind of shake, and then I typically calm down and am fine (read: can write all right). But as he pointed out, I don't know that the anxiety will go down when I write in front of others, or when I present. There's a good chance of it, yes, but it's not for sure. It's a more positive version of fortune telling than the catastrophizing I usually see, but it's still fortune telling just the same.
And, also, it's still not addressing my biggest fear, which is that I really would shake uncontrollably in front of everyone, and totally lose it up there. I mean, before I address that worst-case scenario, I do need to still dispute all the other ATs, since it naturally makes the "worst case scenario" tamer to begin with. Like how I don't know what others are thinking, or that assuming everyone thinks I'm really weird and nuts for looking nervous or trembling is not really logical (this doesn't mean I don't still worry about this, or that suddenly I believe that they don't. I just keep chipping away at the thoughts, until they start to give). And it's good to remember the times when I felt panicky in the past, but could still sign my name or whatever. But my doctor really has a point, with how I still need to address the big what-ifs, and not just tell myself that I will for sure be okay.
Because even if I accept that I probably won't shake that bad, or that not everyone will think badly of me for it necessarily, there's still those what-ifs in the back of my mind. I'm still nervous. And as he said, if you're still afraid, that's a sign to re-check your thoughts again, because you haven't covered all your bases. It can get frustrating, when you feel like you've really tried to go at your thoughts from every angle and still feel nervous, but you have to just keep at it. It's easier with a doctor though, because he pushes me, and challenges the thoughts that I usually can't make headway on by myself.
For instance, he asked me "What happenned if you were up there and said 'You know what? I can't do this', and sat down? How bad would that be for you, on a scale of zero to a hundred?" And I put it at 75, at first. Then he pointed out how you can't really rate how bad something is, without first establishing what 100 means. So he asked me to think of a family member who I really care about dying, and then asked where not being able to finish my presentation would rate compared to that. So then I went down to 50, and he was like "Your sister dying is only five times worse than stopping a presentation?" And I kind of laughed, like "Okay, no. Maybe 10?"
It was still tough to figure out, though, because I'm not used to thinking that way. Normally, I rate how bad things are in their own contexts. And I said to him "But lots of things aren't that bad, compared to horrible stuff like that. Like not finishing homework would be totally insignificant in comparison, but we still do it." And he said "You do it, but you know that if you don't, it's not as bad as something like a family member dying." Which is true. But that kind of thing is hard for me to really get, in a way where I don't still feel like certain things are the end of the world. Because I still really feel like these things are just so huge, and it's mostly an automatic rush of feelings and thoughts that are associated with these situations. I don't know if that made sense, though. It's just hard to not care so much about something anymore, when you automatically react a certain way, and it's so deeply entrenched. Especially after you've had so many bad experiences. Like the times I had bad panic attacks in the past, and how they were followed by so much pain and fear. And it's just so damn hard for me to explain sometimes why someone thinking badly of me, or me embarassing myself, would be so bad. I just feel that it would be.
But I guess the point is not that your fears don't matter, or that they aren't valid, which is what he said. It's not saying "since your sister dying would be worse than you shaking in front of a classroom, this doesn't matter. Stop caring, cry-baby." Your fear is still really painful, and it's not about saying you don't have the right to feel it. Or that you shouldn't care about it. It's more just about reminding yourself that if the worst case scenario does unfortunately take place, maybe the sky won't crash. Even if you feel like it will. As he said to me, when I'm eighty, I probably will not care about something like a presentation, compared to bigger events like deaths in the family. In other words, it's about addressing the catastrophizing that takes place in your thoughts, and that's the thinking error that takes place the most with me.
For me, though, the "badness" of a situation is not only about what happens right then. It's also about what happens after, because of it. Or, as I asked him, "But what if what follows such an event is really bad? Everytime I've had bad panic attacks in the past, everything has gotten harder for me afterwards. And then Mom would also be mad at me, and. . ." He interrupted me, like "Doesn't your Mom get mad at you all the time, no matter what you do?" And I was like "True." Heh. Then he asked "Would you give up, if this happenned? Would you still seek help?" and I was like "Well. . .yeah. Of course." So at that point, I guess I kind of realized that assuming the outcome of the presentation would determine my life in general after that wasn't really fair. I hadn't just been thinking that failing the speech alone would be a 75, but that the whole thing would, because in my head I was imagining all sorts of shit following it too. Like suddenly everything being harder, not being able to do anything about it, and blah blah. And Mom being mad at me to the point where I can't bear to live here, but am too crazy to move out on my own, and ugh. And, really, the fear about my social anxiety getting harder due to a bad panic attack like that is not that out there. As I said, that's been my experience in the past. If I went up in front of a class, and my hands shook really badly, and then maybe my voice started wavering, and my torso and legs felt trembly (this is what I imagined happenning)? Especially if it happenned to make me notice a new physical sign of the anxiety that people could see? (like how ever since I noticed my legs trembling as I kneeled, I've been self conscious over that. Ever since I saw my hand shake in the mirror at work that time, as I brushed my hair behind my ear, I remember it every time I do it now. Etc. . .) Well, ten bucks says that anything from then on that had anything to do with those issues would be harder. If my legs shook, I might have a hard time walking to the bus stop the next day. If my hands trembled enough for people to notice? Oh man, I'd totally worry about them shaking any time I felt anxious from then on. Furthermore, my fear of public speaking would for sure be worse.
But it's true, that I would still (most likely, at least) seek help, even if that occurred. There's a possibility that I would give up, but I haven't yet, have I? He sort of said to me that he can't see me ever giving up. And actually told me that he really thinks I'm going to go far in the world, based on how I "attack" things. I'd brush it off to him trying to be nice, but he said it in a way that was very sincere and believable. In this almost-frustrated, "I want to beat this into your head, I can't believe you don't see this" sort of way. So obviously I appreciated that. But it is true that, despite how many times I've fallen in the past, even if I didn't get back on my feet right away, I did eventually.
I hate to repeat myself, but I feel the need to re-emphasize how it really is difficult to try and tell yourself that something isn't as bad as you feel, when you really feel like it is. Like, really. But even when you can't fully believe that something is not that bad, disputing it and stuff does help make it a little better.
I mean, it obviously made things better enough for me to present, because I did it. I didn't even really panic, once I was up there. And while I did feel somewhat nervous before-hand, I didn't really panic about it before going either. I just kept reminding myself of how some of the other people shook and stuff. That was my main rational response, you see. "Normal people shake too; others here looked nervous." Which reminds me of some other things the doctor and I discussed.
He challenged some of my beliefs about what's "normal" and what's "crazy" and stuff. I can't remember the stats he gave now, but he talked some about how many people have panic attacks who aren't socially anxious, and how many of those people have them while giving speeches. Then pointed out how not even all the people with social anxiety would have a panic attack. So if someone has one up there, it's not for sure that they have anxiety problems normally. Which I knew, but I guess it helps to be reminded. And statistics are always fun. Heh.
Then he asked me if I would think he's nuts if I saw him shake, and I said no. And after a little more digging, he got why I think it's okay for others and not me, which is basically because I assume those people are all "normal" and I'm not, and everyone can tell. So he was like "What is the real problem with social anxiety? Is it mental illness? No. It's thinking errors, really. You're just making some thinking errors. Does that make you crazy?" I kind of grudgingly said that it didn't, but it still means I'm a weirdo. Even though I don't think others who are in the same situation as me are weirdos. Just me. Riiight. Heh. Okay, so it sounds bad when I write it out. I mean, when I hear of guys with the disorder who can't urinate in a public restroom, I obviously can't relate from personal experience, but I know how they feel. I don't think they're weirdos. But I feel like not only will people think I'm weird for shaking and looking nervous and stuff, they'd think I'm even more bizarre if they knew why I felt so anxious. And, Hell, even if everyone in the world were so non-judgmental about social anxiety, my issues go deeper than that. I guess it's not only that I think people would label me a weirdo for the social anxiety, but for shaking to begin with, and everything. Something "off" or unstable about me, on a base level, below everything else. Like, they can sense it. Below those thinking errors, I still often tremble for no apparent reason, am a bit high strung naturally. So the trembling is a sign of more than just social anxiety. I feel like others will look at my shaking, sense my anxiety, and think something is not right with me. He again pointed out then that people shake for many reasons, and anxiety is only one of them. Which brought us back to why I don't think others who shake are nuts, while thinking others would think that of me.
It's so hard to explain. I'm sure my parents play a huge role in influencing how I feel about this, because I think of both of them right away when someone asks me why I'd necessarily come across "nuts" for shaking. I believe I've told you guys this before, but in case I haven't, I'll give the backstory briefly. My Mom has always shook, first off. Sometimes, very noticeably. Usually, during the times when the shaking was worse, her mental/emotional state would be worse as well. Secondly, one time (when I was probably about fifteen or sixteen), I was talking to my Dad, and he noticed I was trembling. Kyle was there, and said he'd noticed it too. Then Dad was like "You know, I worry about you. Your Mother used to shake like that, when she was a teenager."
I used to sometimes have doctors notice the shaking too (I often would get nervous just over being there, and the possibility of them seeing), and one neurologist was saying how he wanted to check my thyroid because of it, and how I seemed "high strung", which apparently didn't seem to match me as a "pretty young lady" or whatever. And yeah, I was on edge feeling that day, and I guess it's not the end of the world for someone to notice. But it was just another thing that got filed away in my brain as "me feeling nervous/shaking=others think I look mentally unstable." Especially since he started prying about whether I experienced depression and anxiety otherwise. I suppose he could've been asking that because he really did think my thyroid might be off (he was the first to notice it being enlarged, which led to them finding the cyst), but whatever.
The Mom thing is huge, though, really. Some of it is me, because I just care SO much about being embarassed in public; I'm hyper self conscious as you all know. But Mom really can be somewhat embarassing in public. Sometimes only mildly, but even then, ugh. From the fact that she never keeps her voice down to how she moves really slowly sometimes, is sometimes mean and rude to people, and on and on. I guess you could say I've developed a bit of a complex about looking crazy like her. If someone were to imply I acted "out of it" in public, I'd totally think of her, and most likely obsess about it.
So, when I brought up how I'm pretty much always tense feeling around others--for example, I shake to begin with a lot even without things provoking it, and all the other stuff you'd find if you looked up symptoms for Generalized Anxiety Disorder, plus the fact that I think my personality and who I am has always been a little on edge and prone to anxiety more than others (in other words, some of my reasons for why I'd still look nuts to people sometimes, regardless of my social anxiety alone)--he gave me his own perspective, which was (not surprisingly) different than my own. He told me how there's four aspects of personalities that they (I assume "they" being psychologists) use to describe people when it comes to emotions and stuff. One is how sensitive your emotions are to things and how responsive you are, then there's the intensity of your emotions, then the range of those emotions (how many different emotions you can feel), and lastly how good you are at retrieving those emotions (like if someone asks you to be all self-introspective). He said "I'd say you're just a very gentle person. Is that so bad? You're very sensitive to things. And you react in an intense way. It's also very easy for you to retrieve and feel these emotions. This can actually be a good trait, actually. Really good, for a psychologist. If you're a therapist, you have to be able to empathize with others." It's true, my emotions often feel very close to the surface. And I totally am sensitive in how I react to things. All it takes is someone making eye contact with me as I'm about to lift my drink, and the hand will start to shake. They often say too how they think (they, again, being doctors) people with anxiety disorders have an over-active nervous system. We're hyper sensitive, and reactive. Sometimes I'll jerk and jump up in surprise, if someone so much as coughs nearby. Tonight, I flinched just from the fridge starting up with its normal noise, which isn't even alarmingly loud or anything. I'm like that tightly wound up. But anyway, whenever someone has commented on this side of me, it seems like it's always been with negative connotations. Like, "high-strung," for instance. Or my Dad, with his "worrying." I've never had someone look at it, and say that I was simply a gentle, sensitive person. It's a totally different way of looking at it. Kind of struck me.
He mentioned wanting to do an exposure with me sometime (not necessarily now, and it'll be my choice), wherein I go up to write a check or whatever in front of someone and pretend to shake really badly, then say "you know, my hand is shaking for some reason. Could I actually just give you cash instead?" He wanted me to do it last year too, and I never did. I really can't imagine doing this. I don't feel comfortable with it at all. But maybe I could just go and watch him do it, since he offered to do the same thing with me, so I could see. Strangely enough, the idea of truly shaking too much to sign my name would be easier to do, I think, than pretending. I don't like doing weird things in public, you know? Like, in my social psychology class a couple years ago, there was this extra credit assignment where you had to do some kind of "norm violation" (perhaps something as simple as burping loudly in an elevator and not excusing yourself, or whatever), and I was like "No. Way. Sorry, can't do that."
Anyway, though. Now that I rambled for like ten thousand pages. I still have so much more to write, too.
Getting back to the presentation, it went well, like I said. My teacher didn't seem to write as many notes with me as she did with some others, but maybe that's because I ended up going last and she was tired, or maybe I just did well and more notes weren't necessary. Who knows. I wish I could know how I did on it specifically, as well as the final, rather than just knowing my overall grade. I think I'll maybe email her. People did seem to be interested in what I had to say, and asked questions and stuff, and when I was explaining slavery there (in the Sudan) after a girl asked about it, the teacher sort of smiled at me and nodded and then wrote some notes down. And, for what it counts, after I finished and we were packing up to go, this older gentleman (old enough to have a teenage daughter) told me as he passed that he'd enjoyed my presentation. That made my night.
Oh, and it figures since the doctor asked me what I'd do if there was no table (after I'd said if I shook too badly to hold my papers, I'd set them on the table in front of me), that our normal classroom was locked and we had to go next door, where there were no tables. Just individual desks. There was one table though, but it wouldn't have been as casual to set stuff down on it unless I sat down myself. And some people did sit at it, when they went. I'm proud to say that I didn't though, even though I knew it would've felt less formal. So I stood up there and held my papers.
I am a little bummed about the class being over, because so many of the people in there were friendly. I had a good conversation with one girl from the class on the busride there that evening, about the middle east and American politics. Kind of was a highlight of the day, if only because it's only so often that you're able to discuss the history of Turkey with a near-stranger (she just had to research it, herself, since her friend is from there and he's who she interviewed). She brought up Ataturk, and a little voice inside went "Ooh, she knows Ataturk!" Hee. She didn't know much about him though, so I got to explain. Good times. (see, this is why I should probably be a teacher, since I consider that fun)
I was feeling pretty happy after class, since everything went so well, but also a bit nostalgic as the night passed. Some of what brought it on was going through the area where I grew up, on the bus that day, as I went to my doctor's. Got me all reminisce-y. Plus, I've been feeling like that lately a lot, anyway. Lots of change going on right now, you know? My brother's all growing up on me, and him and Dad and Mary are moving. I'll still visit them of course, but it'll never be the same. I mean, things wouldn't have been the same for long regardless, because my little brother is not going to be little anymore, whether he lives here or in Arizona. But this just made it clearer. And you know, I'm going to miss him. He isn't just a brother, he's kind of my friend. Which might sound weird, since he's twelve, but he's always been extremely bright for his age with a great sense of humor, and I sometimes have as much fun with him--if not more--than with some of the friends I've had who were my own age in real life. No matter what's going on with me, I've always been able to count on him at least partially cheering me up. And while I don't think I'd want to live with them necessarily, I've liked having my weekends just to visit. Just enough time to enjoy each other's company, and not enough of it to get on one another's nerves. A break from my life, and my home, every month. Now, that's just going to be gone.
And things are never going to be the same with Corinne, after she has the baby. I don't mean that I'm not looking forward to it; I just know that she's never going to be able to be carefree and young in the way she used to. When I ask her to do something, it's always going to be this issue. Like, who's going to watch Jaden, or can she bring him along. Assuming she even has the time or energy to go out to begin with. And it's going to be like that for a looooooong time. And again, I am totally looking forward to him being born. I know that while things will change, new stuff is coming in that will be great. I'm just getting struck by the realization that change is indeed coming. And my sister is not just my sister anymore, she's going to also be someone's Mother, and that will probably--and should, for that matter--come first. It's kind of like all of a sudden everyone's growing up, everything's changing, and maybe a part of me worries I'll be left behind.
Stopping here, this only brings us to the end of Thursday, but I know the rest of my entry is going to be anything but brief, and it's getting late. I still have some things from weeks and weeks ago that I wanted to do an entry on, for God's sake. So I'll just post this for now, and it'll be like a "to be continued" thing.
Except, before I go, I do want to jump ahead and let you guys know some big news. Corinne started having contractions and dilating on Friday, so they put her on medication to try and stop it, and she's been on bedrest ever since. Me being the eternal optimist when it comes to things like this, I was hoping the doctor would say that the baby might just quit trying to make its escape after a bit, and then she could go full-term as planned. But I guess they're just trying to hold her off for at least a couple weeks, or as long as possible basically. Right now, she's somewhere between 33 and 36 weeks along, and 40 is the finish line. The reason it's so ambiguous is because different ultrasounds have given conflicting conception dates and stuff. Obviously, we hope she's at 36 weeks, but we just don't know. More likely than not, before two weeks are up, I'm going to be an aunt. I'm just keeping my fingers crossed that everything will be all right.
And here is the Picture of the Day for today, as well as the ones I've missed:
June 13th.
June 14th. I used to ride that carousel, if it's the one I'm thinking of (which it probably is).
June 15th.
June 16th. All right, we get it, enough with the carousel! Heh.
June 17th. Except, of course, for how that's facing Portland, and not Washington. Heh.
You will drive a Green Lexus.
You will marry David Duchovny and have 3 kids.
You will be a Teacher in San Francisco
Hee, works for me. Let's just hope David stays at his current age until I catch up with him, and doesn't mind living in an apartment. And, dude, green lexus? Hmm, I'll have to think about that. But everything else is good! I mean, hi, I marry Sexy McLickMe, have ten thousand of his babies (er, I mean, three), drive a Lexus (we can paint it), work as a teacher and live in San Francisco where I can hang with
auroura76 and jasminelily! Sweet.Some sneaky damn spider bit me on my knee! He was probably seeking revenge for his brother, whom I flushed down the toilet the other day.
(Oh, and psst: Dosi, I'm using this LJ icon special for you, today. Hee. And I trust you'll let me know if I used "whom" there, incorrectly, yes? If I did, we can just blame it on the nutra sweet. The all purpose excuse. Gotta love it.)
I started this entry last Thursday, but put it on pause because I didn't have time to finish it. So, I'll just post what I wrote then, and continue from where I left off. Sound good? Excellent. Oh, and a warning: This will be the first in a series of verrrrrry long entries (each covering recent stuff). Like, no. Really. I would think everyone expects that from me by now, though.
That would be me! I admit, it's a little bitter sweet, because I liked my classes. The poly sci one didn't have as good of a class dynamic, and the teacher wasn't perfect, but I liked what I was learning. And the women's studies class didn't necessarily teach me all sorts of enlightening things, but some of the reading was interesting enough, and I liked the discussions we had in there a lot. And the people were nice. And speaking of that, I'm glad my first presentation since going back to school was with that class, where I liked most of the people and they seemed engaged in what I was saying, asking questions and stuff. It made it easier, causing it to feel more like another discussion, almost. Not so formal.
The presentation itself went pretty well, I have to say. I might've shook a little, but it wasn't big, and I didn't even pay attention to it mostly. Once I got up there, and got past the first few words, I think the part of me that used to do our big presentations in High School every semester came out and took over. Almost like riding a bike, you know? Especially since--as ironic as it is, considering my fear--I do know that there's a part of me that's a natural at public speaking. I mean, it's not like I forgot how to give a good speech, or that I lost the ability. I just have the social anxiety-induced fears, and worries over having a panic attack up there, which stood as an obstacle between me and that skill. It's times like these though when I am way grateful for the High School I went to, just because it gave me so much practice with it. Because how much harder would this have been, if I hadn't at least had the confidence over knowing how to give a proper presentation? At least I have all that experience to fall back on, and don't have to worry about that on top of the rest.
Seeing my doctor today helped too. We went over my BYOCC sheet for the presentation, and talked about it for the whole hour, basically. I had three Rational Responses for it, and he tossed two of them, because I had thinking errors in them. Hee. Sorry, but that kind of amuses me. I have thinking errors even in my freaking "rational" responses! For crying out loud. I was telling myself "it'll get easier", just because I've found that during times when I've signed my name in the past, I usually feel a twinge of panic at first and my hand will kind of shake, and then I typically calm down and am fine (read: can write all right). But as he pointed out, I don't know that the anxiety will go down when I write in front of others, or when I present. There's a good chance of it, yes, but it's not for sure. It's a more positive version of fortune telling than the catastrophizing I usually see, but it's still fortune telling just the same.
And, also, it's still not addressing my biggest fear, which is that I really would shake uncontrollably in front of everyone, and totally lose it up there. I mean, before I address that worst-case scenario, I do need to still dispute all the other ATs, since it naturally makes the "worst case scenario" tamer to begin with. Like how I don't know what others are thinking, or that assuming everyone thinks I'm really weird and nuts for looking nervous or trembling is not really logical (this doesn't mean I don't still worry about this, or that suddenly I believe that they don't. I just keep chipping away at the thoughts, until they start to give). And it's good to remember the times when I felt panicky in the past, but could still sign my name or whatever. But my doctor really has a point, with how I still need to address the big what-ifs, and not just tell myself that I will for sure be okay.
Because even if I accept that I probably won't shake that bad, or that not everyone will think badly of me for it necessarily, there's still those what-ifs in the back of my mind. I'm still nervous. And as he said, if you're still afraid, that's a sign to re-check your thoughts again, because you haven't covered all your bases. It can get frustrating, when you feel like you've really tried to go at your thoughts from every angle and still feel nervous, but you have to just keep at it. It's easier with a doctor though, because he pushes me, and challenges the thoughts that I usually can't make headway on by myself.
For instance, he asked me "What happenned if you were up there and said 'You know what? I can't do this', and sat down? How bad would that be for you, on a scale of zero to a hundred?" And I put it at 75, at first. Then he pointed out how you can't really rate how bad something is, without first establishing what 100 means. So he asked me to think of a family member who I really care about dying, and then asked where not being able to finish my presentation would rate compared to that. So then I went down to 50, and he was like "Your sister dying is only five times worse than stopping a presentation?" And I kind of laughed, like "Okay, no. Maybe 10?"
It was still tough to figure out, though, because I'm not used to thinking that way. Normally, I rate how bad things are in their own contexts. And I said to him "But lots of things aren't that bad, compared to horrible stuff like that. Like not finishing homework would be totally insignificant in comparison, but we still do it." And he said "You do it, but you know that if you don't, it's not as bad as something like a family member dying." Which is true. But that kind of thing is hard for me to really get, in a way where I don't still feel like certain things are the end of the world. Because I still really feel like these things are just so huge, and it's mostly an automatic rush of feelings and thoughts that are associated with these situations. I don't know if that made sense, though. It's just hard to not care so much about something anymore, when you automatically react a certain way, and it's so deeply entrenched. Especially after you've had so many bad experiences. Like the times I had bad panic attacks in the past, and how they were followed by so much pain and fear. And it's just so damn hard for me to explain sometimes why someone thinking badly of me, or me embarassing myself, would be so bad. I just feel that it would be.
But I guess the point is not that your fears don't matter, or that they aren't valid, which is what he said. It's not saying "since your sister dying would be worse than you shaking in front of a classroom, this doesn't matter. Stop caring, cry-baby." Your fear is still really painful, and it's not about saying you don't have the right to feel it. Or that you shouldn't care about it. It's more just about reminding yourself that if the worst case scenario does unfortunately take place, maybe the sky won't crash. Even if you feel like it will. As he said to me, when I'm eighty, I probably will not care about something like a presentation, compared to bigger events like deaths in the family. In other words, it's about addressing the catastrophizing that takes place in your thoughts, and that's the thinking error that takes place the most with me.
For me, though, the "badness" of a situation is not only about what happens right then. It's also about what happens after, because of it. Or, as I asked him, "But what if what follows such an event is really bad? Everytime I've had bad panic attacks in the past, everything has gotten harder for me afterwards. And then Mom would also be mad at me, and. . ." He interrupted me, like "Doesn't your Mom get mad at you all the time, no matter what you do?" And I was like "True." Heh. Then he asked "Would you give up, if this happenned? Would you still seek help?" and I was like "Well. . .yeah. Of course." So at that point, I guess I kind of realized that assuming the outcome of the presentation would determine my life in general after that wasn't really fair. I hadn't just been thinking that failing the speech alone would be a 75, but that the whole thing would, because in my head I was imagining all sorts of shit following it too. Like suddenly everything being harder, not being able to do anything about it, and blah blah. And Mom being mad at me to the point where I can't bear to live here, but am too crazy to move out on my own, and ugh. And, really, the fear about my social anxiety getting harder due to a bad panic attack like that is not that out there. As I said, that's been my experience in the past. If I went up in front of a class, and my hands shook really badly, and then maybe my voice started wavering, and my torso and legs felt trembly (this is what I imagined happenning)? Especially if it happenned to make me notice a new physical sign of the anxiety that people could see? (like how ever since I noticed my legs trembling as I kneeled, I've been self conscious over that. Ever since I saw my hand shake in the mirror at work that time, as I brushed my hair behind my ear, I remember it every time I do it now. Etc. . .) Well, ten bucks says that anything from then on that had anything to do with those issues would be harder. If my legs shook, I might have a hard time walking to the bus stop the next day. If my hands trembled enough for people to notice? Oh man, I'd totally worry about them shaking any time I felt anxious from then on. Furthermore, my fear of public speaking would for sure be worse.
But it's true, that I would still (most likely, at least) seek help, even if that occurred. There's a possibility that I would give up, but I haven't yet, have I? He sort of said to me that he can't see me ever giving up. And actually told me that he really thinks I'm going to go far in the world, based on how I "attack" things. I'd brush it off to him trying to be nice, but he said it in a way that was very sincere and believable. In this almost-frustrated, "I want to beat this into your head, I can't believe you don't see this" sort of way. So obviously I appreciated that. But it is true that, despite how many times I've fallen in the past, even if I didn't get back on my feet right away, I did eventually.
I hate to repeat myself, but I feel the need to re-emphasize how it really is difficult to try and tell yourself that something isn't as bad as you feel, when you really feel like it is. Like, really. But even when you can't fully believe that something is not that bad, disputing it and stuff does help make it a little better.
I mean, it obviously made things better enough for me to present, because I did it. I didn't even really panic, once I was up there. And while I did feel somewhat nervous before-hand, I didn't really panic about it before going either. I just kept reminding myself of how some of the other people shook and stuff. That was my main rational response, you see. "Normal people shake too; others here looked nervous." Which reminds me of some other things the doctor and I discussed.
He challenged some of my beliefs about what's "normal" and what's "crazy" and stuff. I can't remember the stats he gave now, but he talked some about how many people have panic attacks who aren't socially anxious, and how many of those people have them while giving speeches. Then pointed out how not even all the people with social anxiety would have a panic attack. So if someone has one up there, it's not for sure that they have anxiety problems normally. Which I knew, but I guess it helps to be reminded. And statistics are always fun. Heh.
Then he asked me if I would think he's nuts if I saw him shake, and I said no. And after a little more digging, he got why I think it's okay for others and not me, which is basically because I assume those people are all "normal" and I'm not, and everyone can tell. So he was like "What is the real problem with social anxiety? Is it mental illness? No. It's thinking errors, really. You're just making some thinking errors. Does that make you crazy?" I kind of grudgingly said that it didn't, but it still means I'm a weirdo. Even though I don't think others who are in the same situation as me are weirdos. Just me. Riiight. Heh. Okay, so it sounds bad when I write it out. I mean, when I hear of guys with the disorder who can't urinate in a public restroom, I obviously can't relate from personal experience, but I know how they feel. I don't think they're weirdos. But I feel like not only will people think I'm weird for shaking and looking nervous and stuff, they'd think I'm even more bizarre if they knew why I felt so anxious. And, Hell, even if everyone in the world were so non-judgmental about social anxiety, my issues go deeper than that. I guess it's not only that I think people would label me a weirdo for the social anxiety, but for shaking to begin with, and everything. Something "off" or unstable about me, on a base level, below everything else. Like, they can sense it. Below those thinking errors, I still often tremble for no apparent reason, am a bit high strung naturally. So the trembling is a sign of more than just social anxiety. I feel like others will look at my shaking, sense my anxiety, and think something is not right with me. He again pointed out then that people shake for many reasons, and anxiety is only one of them. Which brought us back to why I don't think others who shake are nuts, while thinking others would think that of me.
It's so hard to explain. I'm sure my parents play a huge role in influencing how I feel about this, because I think of both of them right away when someone asks me why I'd necessarily come across "nuts" for shaking. I believe I've told you guys this before, but in case I haven't, I'll give the backstory briefly. My Mom has always shook, first off. Sometimes, very noticeably. Usually, during the times when the shaking was worse, her mental/emotional state would be worse as well. Secondly, one time (when I was probably about fifteen or sixteen), I was talking to my Dad, and he noticed I was trembling. Kyle was there, and said he'd noticed it too. Then Dad was like "You know, I worry about you. Your Mother used to shake like that, when she was a teenager."
I used to sometimes have doctors notice the shaking too (I often would get nervous just over being there, and the possibility of them seeing), and one neurologist was saying how he wanted to check my thyroid because of it, and how I seemed "high strung", which apparently didn't seem to match me as a "pretty young lady" or whatever. And yeah, I was on edge feeling that day, and I guess it's not the end of the world for someone to notice. But it was just another thing that got filed away in my brain as "me feeling nervous/shaking=others think I look mentally unstable." Especially since he started prying about whether I experienced depression and anxiety otherwise. I suppose he could've been asking that because he really did think my thyroid might be off (he was the first to notice it being enlarged, which led to them finding the cyst), but whatever.
The Mom thing is huge, though, really. Some of it is me, because I just care SO much about being embarassed in public; I'm hyper self conscious as you all know. But Mom really can be somewhat embarassing in public. Sometimes only mildly, but even then, ugh. From the fact that she never keeps her voice down to how she moves really slowly sometimes, is sometimes mean and rude to people, and on and on. I guess you could say I've developed a bit of a complex about looking crazy like her. If someone were to imply I acted "out of it" in public, I'd totally think of her, and most likely obsess about it.
So, when I brought up how I'm pretty much always tense feeling around others--for example, I shake to begin with a lot even without things provoking it, and all the other stuff you'd find if you looked up symptoms for Generalized Anxiety Disorder, plus the fact that I think my personality and who I am has always been a little on edge and prone to anxiety more than others (in other words, some of my reasons for why I'd still look nuts to people sometimes, regardless of my social anxiety alone)--he gave me his own perspective, which was (not surprisingly) different than my own. He told me how there's four aspects of personalities that they (I assume "they" being psychologists) use to describe people when it comes to emotions and stuff. One is how sensitive your emotions are to things and how responsive you are, then there's the intensity of your emotions, then the range of those emotions (how many different emotions you can feel), and lastly how good you are at retrieving those emotions (like if someone asks you to be all self-introspective). He said "I'd say you're just a very gentle person. Is that so bad? You're very sensitive to things. And you react in an intense way. It's also very easy for you to retrieve and feel these emotions. This can actually be a good trait, actually. Really good, for a psychologist. If you're a therapist, you have to be able to empathize with others." It's true, my emotions often feel very close to the surface. And I totally am sensitive in how I react to things. All it takes is someone making eye contact with me as I'm about to lift my drink, and the hand will start to shake. They often say too how they think (they, again, being doctors) people with anxiety disorders have an over-active nervous system. We're hyper sensitive, and reactive. Sometimes I'll jerk and jump up in surprise, if someone so much as coughs nearby. Tonight, I flinched just from the fridge starting up with its normal noise, which isn't even alarmingly loud or anything. I'm like that tightly wound up. But anyway, whenever someone has commented on this side of me, it seems like it's always been with negative connotations. Like, "high-strung," for instance. Or my Dad, with his "worrying." I've never had someone look at it, and say that I was simply a gentle, sensitive person. It's a totally different way of looking at it. Kind of struck me.
He mentioned wanting to do an exposure with me sometime (not necessarily now, and it'll be my choice), wherein I go up to write a check or whatever in front of someone and pretend to shake really badly, then say "you know, my hand is shaking for some reason. Could I actually just give you cash instead?" He wanted me to do it last year too, and I never did. I really can't imagine doing this. I don't feel comfortable with it at all. But maybe I could just go and watch him do it, since he offered to do the same thing with me, so I could see. Strangely enough, the idea of truly shaking too much to sign my name would be easier to do, I think, than pretending. I don't like doing weird things in public, you know? Like, in my social psychology class a couple years ago, there was this extra credit assignment where you had to do some kind of "norm violation" (perhaps something as simple as burping loudly in an elevator and not excusing yourself, or whatever), and I was like "No. Way. Sorry, can't do that."
Anyway, though. Now that I rambled for like ten thousand pages. I still have so much more to write, too.
Getting back to the presentation, it went well, like I said. My teacher didn't seem to write as many notes with me as she did with some others, but maybe that's because I ended up going last and she was tired, or maybe I just did well and more notes weren't necessary. Who knows. I wish I could know how I did on it specifically, as well as the final, rather than just knowing my overall grade. I think I'll maybe email her. People did seem to be interested in what I had to say, and asked questions and stuff, and when I was explaining slavery there (in the Sudan) after a girl asked about it, the teacher sort of smiled at me and nodded and then wrote some notes down. And, for what it counts, after I finished and we were packing up to go, this older gentleman (old enough to have a teenage daughter) told me as he passed that he'd enjoyed my presentation. That made my night.
Oh, and it figures since the doctor asked me what I'd do if there was no table (after I'd said if I shook too badly to hold my papers, I'd set them on the table in front of me), that our normal classroom was locked and we had to go next door, where there were no tables. Just individual desks. There was one table though, but it wouldn't have been as casual to set stuff down on it unless I sat down myself. And some people did sit at it, when they went. I'm proud to say that I didn't though, even though I knew it would've felt less formal. So I stood up there and held my papers.
I am a little bummed about the class being over, because so many of the people in there were friendly. I had a good conversation with one girl from the class on the busride there that evening, about the middle east and American politics. Kind of was a highlight of the day, if only because it's only so often that you're able to discuss the history of Turkey with a near-stranger (she just had to research it, herself, since her friend is from there and he's who she interviewed). She brought up Ataturk, and a little voice inside went "Ooh, she knows Ataturk!" Hee. She didn't know much about him though, so I got to explain. Good times. (see, this is why I should probably be a teacher, since I consider that fun)
I was feeling pretty happy after class, since everything went so well, but also a bit nostalgic as the night passed. Some of what brought it on was going through the area where I grew up, on the bus that day, as I went to my doctor's. Got me all reminisce-y. Plus, I've been feeling like that lately a lot, anyway. Lots of change going on right now, you know? My brother's all growing up on me, and him and Dad and Mary are moving. I'll still visit them of course, but it'll never be the same. I mean, things wouldn't have been the same for long regardless, because my little brother is not going to be little anymore, whether he lives here or in Arizona. But this just made it clearer. And you know, I'm going to miss him. He isn't just a brother, he's kind of my friend. Which might sound weird, since he's twelve, but he's always been extremely bright for his age with a great sense of humor, and I sometimes have as much fun with him--if not more--than with some of the friends I've had who were my own age in real life. No matter what's going on with me, I've always been able to count on him at least partially cheering me up. And while I don't think I'd want to live with them necessarily, I've liked having my weekends just to visit. Just enough time to enjoy each other's company, and not enough of it to get on one another's nerves. A break from my life, and my home, every month. Now, that's just going to be gone.
And things are never going to be the same with Corinne, after she has the baby. I don't mean that I'm not looking forward to it; I just know that she's never going to be able to be carefree and young in the way she used to. When I ask her to do something, it's always going to be this issue. Like, who's going to watch Jaden, or can she bring him along. Assuming she even has the time or energy to go out to begin with. And it's going to be like that for a looooooong time. And again, I am totally looking forward to him being born. I know that while things will change, new stuff is coming in that will be great. I'm just getting struck by the realization that change is indeed coming. And my sister is not just my sister anymore, she's going to also be someone's Mother, and that will probably--and should, for that matter--come first. It's kind of like all of a sudden everyone's growing up, everything's changing, and maybe a part of me worries I'll be left behind.
Stopping here, this only brings us to the end of Thursday, but I know the rest of my entry is going to be anything but brief, and it's getting late. I still have some things from weeks and weeks ago that I wanted to do an entry on, for God's sake. So I'll just post this for now, and it'll be like a "to be continued" thing.
Except, before I go, I do want to jump ahead and let you guys know some big news. Corinne started having contractions and dilating on Friday, so they put her on medication to try and stop it, and she's been on bedrest ever since. Me being the eternal optimist when it comes to things like this, I was hoping the doctor would say that the baby might just quit trying to make its escape after a bit, and then she could go full-term as planned. But I guess they're just trying to hold her off for at least a couple weeks, or as long as possible basically. Right now, she's somewhere between 33 and 36 weeks along, and 40 is the finish line. The reason it's so ambiguous is because different ultrasounds have given conflicting conception dates and stuff. Obviously, we hope she's at 36 weeks, but we just don't know. More likely than not, before two weeks are up, I'm going to be an aunt. I'm just keeping my fingers crossed that everything will be all right.
And here is the Picture of the Day for today, as well as the ones I've missed:
June 13th.
June 14th. I used to ride that carousel, if it's the one I'm thinking of (which it probably is).
June 15th.
June 16th. All right, we get it, enough with the carousel! Heh.
June 17th. Except, of course, for how that's facing Portland, and not Washington. Heh.