What wonderfully brave and valorous women we have here - reading all the posts makes me realise how much stronger we actually are to be able to go beyond all the fears which threaten to paralyze us each day - some real and some the tricks of our minds but all as challenging and threatening just the same. I think the fact that we are able to thrive and Rosie in your case take care of the needs of others despite these makes this group of people even more incredible and strong in my book. I have no explanation for why things are more challenging for some people like us and it sometimes drives me crazy wanting to hear from somebody up there - why me why me why me - it is like a litany in my brain sometimes !
After some therapy - both with my therapist and some spiritual learning - I have also been trying to face my fears a little more rationally - but alas so far I still keep slipping back into old negative thoughts - they have been with me for so long it is really difficult to not indulge in them. But I refuse to lose hope for the future and will persist.
Rosie - I am in the healthcare profession too and have realised that taking care of other people can sometimes be a challenging but also satisfying experience. How do you think your profession has affected you as a person ?
Thanks so much for your kind words. You give me too much credit, though -- I'm not in healthcare, so I don't have anything like the things you have to cope with day to day. -- I really admire you for that. I suppose though, in many respects, my profession does involve caring: I lecture at a university, and one of my roles is as second year tutor, which is mainly a pastoral role and I have a lot of students come to me with problems (ranging from computers crashing and losing an essay to depression following abuse). My main role is to sit and listen and advise in terms of getting professional help and immediate strategies for helping them deal with the work load -- but I've been known to push the strict limits of my job at times because it's so hard not to try to do more at these times. Mostly helping is a positive experience. -- There was one girl who came to me just as my own relationship was falling apart due to my ex/partner's manic depression, and she was coping with someting very similar: it was odd to hear myself give her advice that I myself needed but hadn't been able to see until it came to me as someone else's problem. And it helped me. Sometimes it can become rather a lot though. -- I know that more students come to me than anyone else in my department because they see me as someone who will understand and not judge. -- That's alovely thing to know, but there are some days when I spend all day helping others and feel like I've got nothing left for me at the end of it. On balance I think the good outweighs the bad, though: I can't change the way I am, and it's good to know that my past problems make it easier for me to understand and/or help people fighting with their own demons.
My ex/partner (sorry, still no idea what to call him: some days it seems like we're back on track, others he's in "running" mode) works in the healthcare profession -- ambulance service. He's very good at treating work as work and not getting emotionally involved -- sometimes *too* good I think. He deals with the physical side more than the mental, though he can be surprisingly insightful at times and does seem to judge needs quite well. But he doesn't do softly softly with people much -- tells them the medical stuff that's making them react as they are and is very logical. He has this need to "fix" things, but in a more practical way than me. When he falls under depression it's crippling for him, because he won't give himself an emotional break I think.
Thank you again Susan for raising the carer issue. Although I'm not as directly involved with this as you are, I do understand you thoughts on this a lot -- from my work and from trying to help my ex/partner. I'm sure there are many others who have similar experiences and could offer their insights too.
Best to all, Rosie x********************
People are not like fish: they do not work better battered.
Sorry Rosie - I did mean to talk about how ones career affects ones condition and I think it is Victoria who is a nurse as she mentioned in her last post.
But yes I think this question affects everyone - do you think your career helps or hinders your condition ? I find it frightenening to think of not being able to work - in fact to some extent I wonder how healthy it is to be so attached to my career - if, for some reason, I could not work tomorrow - I would feel even more emotionally adrift than I am today and that thought gives me the shivers sometimes.
But on the positive side, I know that taking care of other people has given me a better perspective of my own problems and has definitely helped me. When I went through my divorce, I refused to take even a days break because it felt like when I was home alone with my thoughts - my depression got worse. Working was my anchor and helped deal with some of the worst times in my life.
Do you ever get the feeling that we are twins of different mothers?
Ate, you are singing my song, LOL. My hubby and I were just having this conversation. We went to a family thing this weekend and there were lots of people that my parents know but kids were meeting for the first time. When my mom introduces us kids it goes like this (beaming with pride) This is my SON -------(might as well spell it sun), This is MY OLDEST DAUGHTER --------(and the only one I have a relationship with because she has no life of her own so I get to have her take care of me), this is my youngest daughter THE VETERANARIAN, ---------and this is my middle daughter ah,ah,ah, ---------(that would be me). My parents as you can see have 4 kids, 3 girls and 1 son, I am the third kid right in a row and there are 10 years between me and my younger sister. My mother never wanted girls, cosmic karma that she ended up with three but what did we do to deserve that? LOL The two older girls suffered heavily from the cherished first male child syndrome. I was the first "accident" which my mother informed me in a conversation where she was saying that she didn't like girls in "the aggregate". Apparently I was in "the aggregate" and she didn't like me. She meant going through puberty but she was so repressed she couldn't even say the word. What I feel about this is a great deal of sadness and occassional hurt, like this weekend. Thank goodness it has never made me jealous of my siblings. Somehow I was always able to see that they suffered from this in their own way as much as I did at the time. I think my brother was almost cherished to death and my older sister, well that is too long a story. My younger sister faired a little bit better because she was more like an only child and my mom had learned a thing or two between me and her. I think that she must have felt desserted as a child because we all went off to college and left her in that house alone. Fortunately she was into riding and had a horse which kept her busy and away from the house often. Man, this sounds like a horrible place to grow up. I think of my childhood, which was actually pretty happy, and my childhood with Mom which was a slippery bubble inside of my childhood. As I have said before I was a ghost which meant that I quietly slipped away, never got into any trouble.
You are right about the fear taking over like a cancer. It is the wolf that we all keep at bay to get better. I am wondering though if there is a difference between the fear that keeps us in one place and actually being in a situation that seems insurmountable?
My mom has had many heart attacks in the middle of the night and is rightfully concerned about staying alone when my dad has to be out of town. My sister and I take turns staying with her as I did last weekend. Well, I left my shoes at Mom's house (hey, she left her bowls at my house). Anyway, hubby and I went over to pick up shoes and drop off bowls. We called ahead. When we got there we were met at the door by my mom with my shoes in hand. Mom said they were about to eat dinner and the shoes were shoved at me through the door bowls exchanged and well, good-bye. Husband commented on how rude it was, I pretty much just considered the source although it did seem especially rude.
Last night my mom called to APOLOGIZE. The words "I'm sorry" have never EVER come out of my mother's mouth. All of a sudden the univerise is tilting on its axis and the planets are out of alignment. Sputter, sputter, "thanks, Mom." (imagine Bambi in the headlights) She really meant it too. There is a Paul Newman movie (can't remember the name) where his family are loggers and his character is especially nasty. His life philosophy is "Never give a G-dam inch". I have pretty much always figured my mom lived by that. Wow.