The following quote from John Bradshaw's book "Bradshaw on: Healing the Shame that Binds You" supports what I have been writing repeatedly in this blog, that there is support for physical disesases, such as cancer, but not for emotional diseases, such as depression or feelings of shame. Read what John Bradshaw writes on the topic remembering that those who are shamed-based feel as though their total self is flawed.
"To be shamed-based is to be in intolerable pain. Physical pain is horrible, but there are moments of relief. There is hope of being cured. The inner rupture of shame and the 'mourning' for your authentic self is chronic. It never goes away. There's no hope for a cure because you are defective. This is the way you are. You have no relationship with yourself or with anyone else. You are totally alone. You are in solitary confinement and chronic grief."
"You need relief from this intolerable pain. You need something outside of you to take away your terrible feelings about yourself. You need something or someone to take away your inhuman loneliness. You need a mood altering experience."
Monday, June 1, 2009
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Not anxiety
As of yesterday, I am officially done with radiation, and I just found out yesterday that the result of my genetic testing is negative. I should be happy but this overwhelming feeling of sadness has taken over my emotions. I dont have cancer, I am not at risk for recurrence, and after exploring my feelings through this blog I don't think that I even suffer from depression or anxiety. Peeling back the onion layers from these past few months, I realize that the culprit is a very toxic case of shame.
From what I understand about shame, people who feel it do not just feel bad about something that they have done wrong, they feel as though their whole self is flawed because of what they've done wrong. This is exactly how I feel now and how I've felt for most of my life. As I've gotten older, the sense of feeling flawed as diminished, but even though I don't feel it as much as I used to, I do know that it is still there. And now I know that I wanted to have cancer because it made me feel less shameful when my friends were paying attention to me. I felt that if people were caring about me and sad about me being sick then they must really like me and there is no reason to feel shame. But now that I have a clean bill of health, my support system will no longer be validating me and my feelings of shame may return. I need to rely on myself to not let that happen.
I've said this before but it is worth repeating that I find it sad thaat people have to fight their emotional battles in isolation. People don't know how to handle emotions because feelings can't be explaind logically. Emotions don't always give people fair warning before they strike and then that dreadful feeling may pass before the sufferers can get their support team together.
I've decideed to treat my shame as a disease because it gives me direction to do so. As far as I can understand, the cure for shame is pride and the first part of my treatment is to read books by John Bradshaw.
From what I understand about shame, people who feel it do not just feel bad about something that they have done wrong, they feel as though their whole self is flawed because of what they've done wrong. This is exactly how I feel now and how I've felt for most of my life. As I've gotten older, the sense of feeling flawed as diminished, but even though I don't feel it as much as I used to, I do know that it is still there. And now I know that I wanted to have cancer because it made me feel less shameful when my friends were paying attention to me. I felt that if people were caring about me and sad about me being sick then they must really like me and there is no reason to feel shame. But now that I have a clean bill of health, my support system will no longer be validating me and my feelings of shame may return. I need to rely on myself to not let that happen.
I've said this before but it is worth repeating that I find it sad thaat people have to fight their emotional battles in isolation. People don't know how to handle emotions because feelings can't be explaind logically. Emotions don't always give people fair warning before they strike and then that dreadful feeling may pass before the sufferers can get their support team together.
I've decideed to treat my shame as a disease because it gives me direction to do so. As far as I can understand, the cure for shame is pride and the first part of my treatment is to read books by John Bradshaw.
Friday, May 8, 2009
Paradigm shifting?
On March 17, 2009, I described my inspiration for this blog, that there was a part of me that wanted a positive cancer diagnosis without knowing why. Since that day, I've been paying attention to myself, drawing, analyzing events for clues that might unravel answers, and I've been blogging these experiences and using tools to try to figure out why I want to be sick.
When I first started writing this blog, I suspected that wanting to have cancer was connected to depression, that I wanted an "exit" to a very unhappy life. But, I soon admitted to myself that my life is not all that unhappy. My mind and body is, however, very anxious. I live every day in fear that something bad is going to happen, which can be very exhausting, and I think about how serene it would be to find an escape for that. In addition, I think about how full of shame I've felt almost all my life, for nearly everything that I've done, and I think about how difficult it is to live with that haunting shame, and how nice it would be not to have to live with it anymore.
And then I think about how courageous people look when they have cancer - Elizabeth Edwards, Steve Jobs, Patrick Swayze, to name a few. I want to look courageous too. I want to be able to go for my treatments while still holding down my job and the household with admirable flexibility. I want people to look at me and say "Wow, what you are doing is absolutely amazing."
But, I think that my "grand wish" for sickness has been shaken by recent events. On April 20th, the son of a co-worker lost his 2.5 year battle with brain cancer. He was only 31. In another event, a friend of mine has flown halfway around the world to be with her sister who is now in hospice. I heard from my friend's mother last week, and it nearly broke my heart when she told me that losing a child is more than she can bear. I mean, who the hell do I think I am to want myself dead at the age of 53, when these two young people have been cheated out of their young lives? If I were the loved ones - my co-worker, my friend, my friend's mother, I would just smack myself right in the face.
Another event that gave me pause about my wish was a controversial anti-smoking commercial which ran in Australia. In the ad, a young boy around the age of 3 or 4 was with his mother in a crowded train station. The mother walked away for a second and the camera focused on the boy and the fear to terror that emerged as he realized that his mother was no longer beside him. The voiceover then said "This is how he reacts when he loses you for a minute. Imagine how he would feel if he lost you for a lifetime." And that ad shook me up. I thought about my kids, my youngest specifically, and realized that I do mean something to him and he would be very unhappy without me. That was a huge realization, by the way, to finally get into my heart so that I really believed it, that my kids really love me and want me there for them. There was a time not too long ago when I thought that they would be better off without me.
And then there was yesterday when I experienced a headache that was so debilitating that I could not lift my head from the pillow without feeling nausea. I realized that this is the way I would probably feel if I were going through chemo. I thought about how bored I was just lying in bed, not being able to do anything except think and just let my mind wander until it reached the thought that said "Is this what you are wishing for, because this is what your life would be like if you had a more serious stage of cancer."
As I mentioned earlier, there is something very admirable about heading off to treatment every day and juggling that with my day-to-day responsibilities, but there is nothing at all dignified about being hunched over a toilet still feeling the urge to throw up when there is nothing left in your system to purge.
OK, now don't get me wrong, my paradigm has not completely shifted (there is still that genetic testing result that I am waiting for) and my blog is not at all over, but see how my journalling has already helped me to chisel away some of the layers of resistance and help me to reveal some possible answers?
Afterthoughts:
I am somewhat glad that I had that severe headache yesterday because for the first time since I received my cancer diagnosis, I felt as though I deserved all the good wishes, gifts, and attention that I've received from people. Even through both surgeries and radiation, I felt as though what I was going through was no big deal, but emerging on the other side of that headache pain and nausea, really made me feel like I came through a battle.
When I first started writing this blog, I suspected that wanting to have cancer was connected to depression, that I wanted an "exit" to a very unhappy life. But, I soon admitted to myself that my life is not all that unhappy. My mind and body is, however, very anxious. I live every day in fear that something bad is going to happen, which can be very exhausting, and I think about how serene it would be to find an escape for that. In addition, I think about how full of shame I've felt almost all my life, for nearly everything that I've done, and I think about how difficult it is to live with that haunting shame, and how nice it would be not to have to live with it anymore.
And then I think about how courageous people look when they have cancer - Elizabeth Edwards, Steve Jobs, Patrick Swayze, to name a few. I want to look courageous too. I want to be able to go for my treatments while still holding down my job and the household with admirable flexibility. I want people to look at me and say "Wow, what you are doing is absolutely amazing."
But, I think that my "grand wish" for sickness has been shaken by recent events. On April 20th, the son of a co-worker lost his 2.5 year battle with brain cancer. He was only 31. In another event, a friend of mine has flown halfway around the world to be with her sister who is now in hospice. I heard from my friend's mother last week, and it nearly broke my heart when she told me that losing a child is more than she can bear. I mean, who the hell do I think I am to want myself dead at the age of 53, when these two young people have been cheated out of their young lives? If I were the loved ones - my co-worker, my friend, my friend's mother, I would just smack myself right in the face.
Another event that gave me pause about my wish was a controversial anti-smoking commercial which ran in Australia. In the ad, a young boy around the age of 3 or 4 was with his mother in a crowded train station. The mother walked away for a second and the camera focused on the boy and the fear to terror that emerged as he realized that his mother was no longer beside him. The voiceover then said "This is how he reacts when he loses you for a minute. Imagine how he would feel if he lost you for a lifetime." And that ad shook me up. I thought about my kids, my youngest specifically, and realized that I do mean something to him and he would be very unhappy without me. That was a huge realization, by the way, to finally get into my heart so that I really believed it, that my kids really love me and want me there for them. There was a time not too long ago when I thought that they would be better off without me.
And then there was yesterday when I experienced a headache that was so debilitating that I could not lift my head from the pillow without feeling nausea. I realized that this is the way I would probably feel if I were going through chemo. I thought about how bored I was just lying in bed, not being able to do anything except think and just let my mind wander until it reached the thought that said "Is this what you are wishing for, because this is what your life would be like if you had a more serious stage of cancer."
As I mentioned earlier, there is something very admirable about heading off to treatment every day and juggling that with my day-to-day responsibilities, but there is nothing at all dignified about being hunched over a toilet still feeling the urge to throw up when there is nothing left in your system to purge.
OK, now don't get me wrong, my paradigm has not completely shifted (there is still that genetic testing result that I am waiting for) and my blog is not at all over, but see how my journalling has already helped me to chisel away some of the layers of resistance and help me to reveal some possible answers?
Afterthoughts:
I am somewhat glad that I had that severe headache yesterday because for the first time since I received my cancer diagnosis, I felt as though I deserved all the good wishes, gifts, and attention that I've received from people. Even through both surgeries and radiation, I felt as though what I was going through was no big deal, but emerging on the other side of that headache pain and nausea, really made me feel like I came through a battle.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
It's anxiety
Today I am reminded of why I started this blog. I got my inspiration the day before I received my diagnosis, when I confessed to my therapist that a large part of me wanted to receive a cancer diagnosis. I have much the same feeling today as I await the results of my genetic testing. There is a very large part of me that wants to test positive for having the hereditary cancer gene that will put me at a higher risk for a cancer recurrence. I feel as though having a positive diagnosis in this case is my last ticket out of here. And again, I am left wondering if the depression is of greater concern than a positive genetic test result.
Also, I am not quite certain that what I suffer from is depression. I don't feel in the depths of despair and haven't felt that way in a very long time. What I feel, instead, is a profound anxiety that cannot keep my body still. It is this constant feeling of always dreading the worst that keeps me from being able to relax. That feeling is coupled with the physical rituals I feel compelled to perform to keep potential evil away. Yup, that's the old Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD), my dearest love/hate companion for over 40 years now.
A good day for me is when I feel as though I have managed to dodge all the bullets in my day. I don't remember a day in which I have felt totally relaxed and really felt good about my life. OK. yes, there were times when I've felt the blessing of peace within me, but those were times when I was medicated with a sedative. I do not remember a time when I have felt truly at peace with myself completely, on my own, without the help of medicine. There is always that feeling of being on guard, much of the time coupled with the physical rituals of my OCD. And finding it difficult to live in my own skin is the reason that I want to escape.
Afterthoughts:
With all the advanced medical technology available now, I am totally shocked and incredulous that there is NOTHING available, except for a Quaalude taken once every four hours for the rest of my life, that can cure (not pacify, but CURE) my anxiety.
Also, I am not quite certain that what I suffer from is depression. I don't feel in the depths of despair and haven't felt that way in a very long time. What I feel, instead, is a profound anxiety that cannot keep my body still. It is this constant feeling of always dreading the worst that keeps me from being able to relax. That feeling is coupled with the physical rituals I feel compelled to perform to keep potential evil away. Yup, that's the old Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD), my dearest love/hate companion for over 40 years now.
A good day for me is when I feel as though I have managed to dodge all the bullets in my day. I don't remember a day in which I have felt totally relaxed and really felt good about my life. OK. yes, there were times when I've felt the blessing of peace within me, but those were times when I was medicated with a sedative. I do not remember a time when I have felt truly at peace with myself completely, on my own, without the help of medicine. There is always that feeling of being on guard, much of the time coupled with the physical rituals of my OCD. And finding it difficult to live in my own skin is the reason that I want to escape.
Afterthoughts:
With all the advanced medical technology available now, I am totally shocked and incredulous that there is NOTHING available, except for a Quaalude taken once every four hours for the rest of my life, that can cure (not pacify, but CURE) my anxiety.
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Dalai Lama
I had the honor of seeing the Dalai Lama today at Gillette Stadium in Foxboro, MA. A friend of mine told me yesterday that she thought I would have a spiritual awakening today. I don't think I quite had that, but I did get some take home messages.
The first take home message was "grow where you are planted." I've heard this message before but it was reinforced to me when I was waiting in line to get some food. The woman who was standing in line ahead of me asked me if I've ever seen the Dalai Lama before and I told her that I hadn't. Then I asked her if she had seen him before and she nodded and said "Oh yes." Then she told me a story about how she was a teacher's assistant for a teacher who asked her if she would mind cutting up watermelon and making sticky rice for the Dalai Lama's visit to the monastery where she also worked. She said that the year was 1978 and they had to work really hard to get 500 people to attend the event. She said that the green room was the same kitchen where she was cutting up the watermelon, so she got to see a lot of His Holiness, and got to talk to him about about her religious journey. She asked about whether she should become a Tibetan Buddhist or whether she should remain a Christian. He said that she wouldn't get the full essence of Tibetan Buddhism since she wasn't born one and that she should stay in her own tradition (grow where you are planted). Then he said that if the Christianity wasn't feeding her she should look to the mystics and she would find what she needed. Then he gave her a list of books to read. I asked her if she found what she needed, and she said that she did.
In addition, to the grow where you are planted message, she told me a story that made my heart smile. The 2nd time she saw the Dalai Lama was when her twin daughters were 6. She and her husband took the daughters with them and they sat out on the lawn and picniced while he was speaking. She noticed that one of her daughters was looking sad, and so she asked her what was the matter. Her daughter said "You told me that the llama was going to talk, and there is only a man up there."
The second message is that being in His Holiness's presence could have a positive impact on how I see the world. During the break, a woman came up to us and said that she was writing an article for New Awakenings magazine. She asked if she could email us in a week and find out whether seeing the Dalai Lama would have an impact on us. I told her that I wasn't sure that I was the right candidate for her article because I had trouble hearing what he was saying, and she told me that she once went to see him and had trouble hearing and he still had an impact on her because just his presence was enough. So now, I am expecting some kind of impact to happen to me in the next week. I will try to remember to blog and let you all know if it's true.
The first take home message was "grow where you are planted." I've heard this message before but it was reinforced to me when I was waiting in line to get some food. The woman who was standing in line ahead of me asked me if I've ever seen the Dalai Lama before and I told her that I hadn't. Then I asked her if she had seen him before and she nodded and said "Oh yes." Then she told me a story about how she was a teacher's assistant for a teacher who asked her if she would mind cutting up watermelon and making sticky rice for the Dalai Lama's visit to the monastery where she also worked. She said that the year was 1978 and they had to work really hard to get 500 people to attend the event. She said that the green room was the same kitchen where she was cutting up the watermelon, so she got to see a lot of His Holiness, and got to talk to him about about her religious journey. She asked about whether she should become a Tibetan Buddhist or whether she should remain a Christian. He said that she wouldn't get the full essence of Tibetan Buddhism since she wasn't born one and that she should stay in her own tradition (grow where you are planted). Then he said that if the Christianity wasn't feeding her she should look to the mystics and she would find what she needed. Then he gave her a list of books to read. I asked her if she found what she needed, and she said that she did.
In addition, to the grow where you are planted message, she told me a story that made my heart smile. The 2nd time she saw the Dalai Lama was when her twin daughters were 6. She and her husband took the daughters with them and they sat out on the lawn and picniced while he was speaking. She noticed that one of her daughters was looking sad, and so she asked her what was the matter. Her daughter said "You told me that the llama was going to talk, and there is only a man up there."
The second message is that being in His Holiness's presence could have a positive impact on how I see the world. During the break, a woman came up to us and said that she was writing an article for New Awakenings magazine. She asked if she could email us in a week and find out whether seeing the Dalai Lama would have an impact on us. I told her that I wasn't sure that I was the right candidate for her article because I had trouble hearing what he was saying, and she told me that she once went to see him and had trouble hearing and he still had an impact on her because just his presence was enough. So now, I am expecting some kind of impact to happen to me in the next week. I will try to remember to blog and let you all know if it's true.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Artist Statement
I finally finished my artist's statement. I want to thank Brad Lovoi for editing my it and pushing me further inward than I would have gone by myself.
Artist Statement:
My natural ability to create tells me that my mission in life is to produce art. I enjoy crafting pieces that are different from anything that anyone has ever seen before. I like to combine different materials to achieve a variety of textures. When I was a kid, I mixed dirt into my oil paints to give the ground I was painting a more authentic texture. Today I use fine netting, transparent papers, and acetate to demonstrate even more textures. A few weeks ago a fellow artist asked me how I achieved the texture over one of my collages and I told her that I applied a very fine netting over it. Just this week I saw her using the netting on her collage. It satisfied me to be able to influence her work and see her replicate my technique on her own.
I have two main styles of art that I use to create my work. With the first style I use colorful felt-tipped markers on paper to create primitive designs. I work in shades of blue, turquoise, purple and green, because those cool colors invoke a calm feeling for me. After I fill a sheet of paper with my designs, I cut half of the paper into strips and glue them to the borders of a frame, or I weave them through solid-color paper to make greeting cards.
With my second style of art, I use mixed media to create two- and three-dimensional pieces of art. I create collaged or drawn artist trading cards, which are small original pieces of artwork the size of baseball cards, that I swap with other trading-card artists. In addition, I create small aquariums by painting or decoupaging the wooden borders of a glass box with mottled strokes of blues, greens, purple, and gold and then I create wire and beaded fish which I suspend from the inside top of the box.
My artwork tells me stories about my self because it is an expression of what is deep inside of me. These stories open a window to my soul and allow me to learn more about my authentic self, the one that is free from the judgments of my day-to-day world.
Artist Statement:
My natural ability to create tells me that my mission in life is to produce art. I enjoy crafting pieces that are different from anything that anyone has ever seen before. I like to combine different materials to achieve a variety of textures. When I was a kid, I mixed dirt into my oil paints to give the ground I was painting a more authentic texture. Today I use fine netting, transparent papers, and acetate to demonstrate even more textures. A few weeks ago a fellow artist asked me how I achieved the texture over one of my collages and I told her that I applied a very fine netting over it. Just this week I saw her using the netting on her collage. It satisfied me to be able to influence her work and see her replicate my technique on her own.
I have two main styles of art that I use to create my work. With the first style I use colorful felt-tipped markers on paper to create primitive designs. I work in shades of blue, turquoise, purple and green, because those cool colors invoke a calm feeling for me. After I fill a sheet of paper with my designs, I cut half of the paper into strips and glue them to the borders of a frame, or I weave them through solid-color paper to make greeting cards.
With my second style of art, I use mixed media to create two- and three-dimensional pieces of art. I create collaged or drawn artist trading cards, which are small original pieces of artwork the size of baseball cards, that I swap with other trading-card artists. In addition, I create small aquariums by painting or decoupaging the wooden borders of a glass box with mottled strokes of blues, greens, purple, and gold and then I create wire and beaded fish which I suspend from the inside top of the box.
My artwork tells me stories about my self because it is an expression of what is deep inside of me. These stories open a window to my soul and allow me to learn more about my authentic self, the one that is free from the judgments of my day-to-day world.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Voice of God
I haven't written for a few days because I am in the process of putting together my artist's statement. But I wanted to take a break from that and post my thanks to the spiritual forces that (virtually) introduced me to the singing sensation Susan Boyle. For those not familiar with Susan Boyle, she auditioned for the show "Britain's Got Talent" last Saturday night. Boyle is described by CNN in this way,
"Slightly plump and with short brown curly hair, Boyle stood somewhat uncomfortably in the middle of the stage wearing a gold lace sheath. She told the judges and the audience of the show that she was single, she lived with her cat, Pebbles, and she had never been kissed."
The CNN reporter also described that when she came out on stage, the three judges, one of whom was Simon Cowell, snickered and members of the audience rolled their eyes as she explained that she wanted to be a professional singer like Elaine Paige, who is a famous singer in the UK. I, myself, was brought back to that horrible place in my youth where I was just waiting to be judged by those critics in my life who could not wait for me to fail yet one more time.
But then, Susan Boyle started singing "I Dreamed the Dream" from "Les Miserables" and from the first note she had not only the snickering judges, but the entire eye-rolling audience, totally mesmorized with her voice. I love when God seeps into our every day lives and teaches us that life is so much more than the way we look and behave, especially when we do not conform to society norms. I am left with the image of Simon Cowell, sighing with contentment, with a spark in his eye that signaled that he was listening to the voice of an angel.
Afterthoughts:
I wonder if there exists within me, the capacity to communicate a visual expression that is as majestic as Susan Boyle's voice. If not, I wonder what my contribution should be to the art world.
"Slightly plump and with short brown curly hair, Boyle stood somewhat uncomfortably in the middle of the stage wearing a gold lace sheath. She told the judges and the audience of the show that she was single, she lived with her cat, Pebbles, and she had never been kissed."
The CNN reporter also described that when she came out on stage, the three judges, one of whom was Simon Cowell, snickered and members of the audience rolled their eyes as she explained that she wanted to be a professional singer like Elaine Paige, who is a famous singer in the UK. I, myself, was brought back to that horrible place in my youth where I was just waiting to be judged by those critics in my life who could not wait for me to fail yet one more time.
But then, Susan Boyle started singing "I Dreamed the Dream" from "Les Miserables" and from the first note she had not only the snickering judges, but the entire eye-rolling audience, totally mesmorized with her voice. I love when God seeps into our every day lives and teaches us that life is so much more than the way we look and behave, especially when we do not conform to society norms. I am left with the image of Simon Cowell, sighing with contentment, with a spark in his eye that signaled that he was listening to the voice of an angel.
Afterthoughts:
I wonder if there exists within me, the capacity to communicate a visual expression that is as majestic as Susan Boyle's voice. If not, I wonder what my contribution should be to the art world.
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