Lying as a way of avoiding distress.

Masking the truth

This is a topic I find quite painful to discuss. It brings up a lot of shame, leaving me feeling as if I tumbled naked out of a warm bed into a cold room and there was no time to cover up before a crowd arrives to view my embarrassment. Yet, I feel it's important to talk about this. After doing a good deal of reading on shame recently, I see how confronting it head on seems to be the only way to dissipate it fully. 

I must have been about four years old, when my nursery school teacher turned to my mother with a furrowed brow, a concerned tone and said something along the lines of ... "Some children lie, maybe to get out of trouble or to play 'make believe'.... that's harmless and can be corrected as the child grows older, learning it's not nice to be dishonest. But your little one's fibs are troubling. She truly believes her made up fantasies are real. I don't think she sees the difference between reality and fantasy."

When I was in second class in primary school (8 years old) I told my teacher and friends at the time that my Mum was expecting another baby with my Dad. My parents had been separated since I was four, it was a messy break-up, with lots of anger, manipulation and public arguments.  So you can imagine my Mother''s surprise when she came to pick me up and the other Mum's were congratulating her on her pregnancy and recent rekindling of her marriage. Looking back now, I think I did it to try and solve the problem. If I told enough people I had a happy family, then maybe it would come true. I remember fully believing what I was saying was real. This particular lie had a horrible outcome, it was of course found out and I was humiliated by having to publicly apologise and recant the lie to all my classmates. It not only filled my heart with shame, but compounded the reality of my distress of living within a fragmented family.

Another example is a bit more recent. I don't tend to tell people I had to leave my university course because of illness, I mince the truth, I brush it off, say I did finish and quickly change the topic. There are sooo many other examples, but I don't feel able to disclose them just yet. but I can allow you a glimpse at some conclusions I have come to about my lies.

I lied to avoid the distress and the chaos in my life. However, the truth can and does emerge at times which leads to more chaos in an attempt to avoid the past and the destruction that always follows. I can understand why so many family members and friends started to distance themselves from the me. This then started the cycle of avoidance and low esteem. The feeling of abandonment and the lies. No one likes to admit to making mistakes or "wrong calls".

It was about control with me. When my life was so out of control, I could have a little through lying. Sometimes it was to avoid conflict. I couldn't stand anyone being mad at me. I often find myself lying simply because I can't stand one more moment of my real life. Sometimes the lies are of how I wished things were or happened instead of what the real situation is.

When I am really distressed I can't tell the difference between lying and telling the truth because I say what I think people want to hear. I don't tell whoppers as I am too terrified of being rejected if I am found out - but I fudge, exaggerate, deny things and change my facts all the time. I only just discovered this as I have been lying to myself for so long too about this! It's really hard to realize and admit that lying comes so naturally to me that I don't even notice I'm doing it. I would characterise it against the DSM criterion 'frantic attempts to avoid real or imagined abandonment' - I would say my pathological lying is part of my ongoing attempt through frantic 'relationship management' to make others happy and therefore unlikely to reject me.

People with BPD often experience deep and entrenched shame; lying may be one way to conceal mistakes or weaknesses that increase shameful feelings. People with BPD are often also very sensitive to rejection, so one function of lying could be to “cover up” mistakes, so that others will not reject them.

I think I lie lie as a means of protecting myself from rejection or a survival technique, and it did seem that a good deal of my lying was some kind of defence mechanism to avoid any intense feelings of failure and self-loathing.

Given that a BPD hallmark is interpersonal relationships that alternate between idealization and devaluation, the person with BPD may distort facts aimed at the person with whom they desire a personal relationship. … In the moment, their desired objective, whatever that may be, takes such precedence over speaking the truth or behaving honestly that the potential consequences of their conduct are reduced to shadowy details.”

Sometimes we may judge ourselves harshly and expect others to do the same. Lying serves to deflect shame when something might make us look bad, thereby maintaining whatever self-esteem we have on a temporary basis. … We believe that anything ‘bad’ would make others reject them. … Lies may mask real feelings and put up an impressive façade. Lies may help make sense of why things happen to us in our mixed-up identity.

In other words, some of us with BPD lie to avoid abandonment or to avoid self-hatred.

What are your experiences with lying and the presumption of lying?

There is a Difference Between Difficult and Impossible. Using OPPOSITE ACTION to curb WILLFULNESS

I find a colossal urge to resist being truthful to myself. Even though I can’t quite fathom this period of dissociation which seems to be here on an extended and highly unwelcome visit, I have also not been doing anything to actively pull myself out of it, even though I know that there are ways to help myself.

I have spent the last two years learning that DBT and my treatment team are not going to magically ‘fix’ my emotional vulnerability. And even though I would love them to just magically take all my difficulties away for me, they can’t.

It IS true though, that I have proven to myself that with hard work and dedication to my health I can help myself with the skills which have been thought to me. When I weigh up this evidence, I still find myself being willful. As stubborn as a mule!

Recovering from dysregulation requires action, but taking action when you’re emotionally overwhelmed is hard. In fact, just thinking about the things you should do to feel better, like going for a walk or spending time with friends, can be exhausting.

It’s the Catch-22 of emotional sensitivity: The things that help the most are the things that are the most difficult to do. There’s a difference, however, between something that's difficult and something that's impossible.

Looking back on past blog entries I am reminded that the key to getting over being willful is to start with a few small goals and slowly build from there. Draw upon whatever resources you have. You may not have much energy, but you probably have enough to take a short shower, care for a pet or pick up the phone to text a loved one or someone else who could also do with a boost.

While you can’t force yourself to have fun or experience pleasure, you can choose to do things that you used to or know you do enjoy. Pick up a former hobby or a sport you like. Express yourself creatively through music, art, or writing. Go out with friends. Take a day trip to a museum, the mountains, or the pick up a trashy magazine.

Push yourself (with compassion) to do things, even when you don’t feel like it. This is all down to OPPOSITE ACTION. You might be surprised at how much better you feel once you’re out in the world. Even if the dysregulation doesn't lift immediately, you’ll gradually feel more upbeat and energetic as you make time for fun activities.

So with this in mind (and an extremely willful mind it can be) I took myself off a yoga class with a friend today and went to support another friend of mine who lost her father a month ago. 

I have tons of work building up for my course which I have had to put on the back burner due to grief and sickness, so I am facing it tomorrow, going to the doctor to get a sick note and asking for an extension. 

Do I feel any better? Not hugely, but ever so slightly yes. And each day being skillful all adds up to achieving a life worth living. Just remember… Rome wasn't built in a day.

Give the Child a Chance.

It’s a reality that this blog has drawn people to me, but it has also pushed others away. I realize that the “me” revealed in these posts isn't always the “me” that is seen across a table at Starbucks, at a family meal or on a night out with the girls.  I know that some former friends can’t deal with the more complicated “me” they meet on this blog. I can’t help that. It’s unfortunate that sadness drives me here much more than celebration does. So from that a reader may conclude that I am sad much more of the time then I am happy. But emotions are not stable, I am often undisturbed by my internal troubles and I am often a fully functional member of society.

From the time I appreciated the therapeutic practice of writing, of purging the spiraling thoughts from my distressed mind, it has been my way to survive, to protect myself. It was actually a former psychiatrist (with whom I failed to connect with on any other topic!) who must be credited with planting the seed of starting this blog in my mind.  Along with meditation, writing is my spiritual discipline. Inside my head I am torn with conflicts. I struggle to understand myself and my world, I write because I want to bring to myself and perhaps those who read my posts more light, more grace, more understanding. It helps heal the little girl who hurts, it gives her a voice. Finally.

DBT for grief

I am worried what to say to her, but I am sure everyone worries about what to say to a grieving person. But what I really feel is that knowing how to listen is much more important. Oftentimes, well-meaning people avoid talking about the death or mentioning the deceased person, I felt I should bring her Dad up, but when I was grieving for my friends that died a few years ago, I really needed to feel that my loss was acknowledged, I wanted to talk about it.

I wanted to let her know that she had my approval to talk about her dad’s death, even if it had only happened a few hours ago, yet I tried not to force her to open up. I just let her talk when the subject of her dad came up.

I brought food and made pots of tea. It’s what I do. I want to ‘mother smother’ her. That’s my term for looking after a person in time of crisis. I did it for my sister when her baby boy came early and was sick in the hospital. I got some healthy salads and soups, and also some comfort food like pizza and soda bread and giant cookies and coca-cola.

I am going out to her again tomorrow, I would like to make her some food for the freezer, but I am very low on money and can’t afford to buy the meat this weekend. From what I could see, she has enough food in the house for a few days, so can hold off for a while.

Okay… so the point of this post is to figure out what DBT skills to use to stay regulated so I can be the shoulder to lean on my friend needs right now.

MINDFULNESS

I need to be aware of which emotion I am experiencing. I will do this with OBSERVE, by checking in regularly with myself, and through my meditation practise. Then I will DESCRIBE the emotion and how it is affecting my body, thoughts and behaviours. I will be NON-JUDGEMENTAL towards my thoughts, my emotions and the feelings and emotions of those who are grieving. I will do this by putting myself in their shoes. I will let my friend know that t’s ok to feel whatever way they feel, let her express her feelings without judgement, argument or criticism.

INTERPERSONAL EFFECTIVNESS

This is a time to use the relationship effectiveness skill GIVE

·         Be gentle

·         Be interested

·         Validate

·         Have an easy manner

I will smile at my friend and her family and be MINDFUL in my conversation.

EMOTION REGULATION

I really need to reduce my vulnerability with PLEASE, take my medication, go to yoga (even though this friend normally comes with me). Absolutely no drink or prescribed drugs…! I must endeavour to get the right amount of sleep. I will continue with my healthy diet and stick to my meal plans.

I will try to INCREASE POSITIVE EMOTIONS by going to my meditation group tonight. I will notice how I feel in my body, what’s passing through my mind, what I am doing, how I am behaving.

DISTRESS TOLERANCE

DISTRACTION is my best bet here, in particular focusing on others, in particular my friend. I will focus on her and concentrate on her needs. This will help direct my thoughts away from the difficult emotions which accompany death

I am AWAKING OPPOSITE EMOTION by listening to my favourite music, calming and soothing music.

PRAYER is helping me too to not make the situation worse. I am also bringing my friend and her family into my meditation.

I self-soothed by taking a really long hot shower this morning which gave me the strength to go see my friend after.

Finally RADICAL ACCEPTANCE is greatly needed. Death is the ultimate test for this skill. I hate that he is dead, yet I must accept it. 

Mindful Photography

 Last September I choose to do a year long course in photography. I wanted a break from my usual academic pursuits and had a longing to nurture my creative side through mindful activities and I thought photography would suit my desire.

Mindful photography is simply the process of being truly present and paying attention while photographing; being Here, Now. It is perceiving and engaging, without judgment, photographically, that which is. It is the path of incorporating photography into my practice of mindfulness, and incorporating mindfulness into my practice of photography. My path leads me through the beauty and serenity I find in nature, so this is the context in which I will most often speak; your path may lead you another way, but I trust that we will still be able to understand and help one another in our respective journeys. 

With photography, there’s often a feeling of built-up anticipation by the time we reach our destination. Whether we’ve traveled a thousand miles or driven two hours from home to a favorite spot, the temptation to mount camera on tripod and start photographing immediately can be powerful. However, there are real benefits to slowing down and taking a more contemplative approach.

On a personal level, slowing down and connecting with my environment can help me relax and ease the self-imposed pressure to Get The Shot. It lets us enjoy the location for what it is, and not just as a photographic target. Mindful photography reminds me that the process, the journey, is its own reward.

 

On an artistic level, I will many times find perspectives I might not have otherwise noticed. Even if I end up not making them into photographs, they will inform my approach to the photographs I do make. Being present in the landscape will often lead me away from the tripod holes of those who have been here before us, and toward those compositions that speak to our own vision.

So, how do I go about establishing – or, better said, recognizing – this connection? Here are three ways I relax into a more mindful awareness of my environment.

One of the first things I do is find a safe spot (out of the way of other visitors and away from potential hazards like cliff edges or slippery rocks), close my eyes, open my mouth a bit, and breathe.  I breathe slowly and deeply, inhaling the scent and the flavor of the place, bringing it into myself. In the forest, I smell leaves and branches decaying to soil, and new plant life growing from that soil. In the woods, I smell the evergreens, the tamarack bogs, and the tannins in the soil and water. Standing next to a waterfall, I catch the tang of ozone from the rushing and tumbling water. Smell is a powerfully evocative sense, and can in an instant recall connections across the years and miles.

While my eyes are closed, I also listen. When I think I am surrounded by either noise or silence, it means I’m not paying attention. The noise is the movement of wind through trees, water roaring over rocks, geese honking in the distance, a mosquito buzzing near my ear. The silence is really the backdrop for the thump of a clump of snow sliding from a single branch, the periodic drip-plop of water seeping through limestone, my breath, my heartbeat – and yes, a bee buzzing near my ear. And in between the extremes I hear a marvelous range of the sounds of life, of my presence in the physical world – sounds I don’t want to miss or take for granted.

OBSERVE - Listen like a sponge

This very useful skill was taught to me by a extremely talented key worker when I was on the intensive outpatient program last year. She really got through to me and helped me see how little attention I pay to others when they are talking to me.

This is what she told me to try to help improve my relationships by using mindfulness:

"Listen to others as if you are a sponge, soaking up what the other person is saying. Let your mind be quiet, and just take it in. Don't formulate any response in your mind until a response is requested or required."

At first I was quite annoyed, even offended that she thought I didn't listen to people . I became defensive and shut down and guess what... I didn't listen to word she said after that!

Maybe she had a point.

But what I failed to understand is that mindful listening is not common place in our society. It's also known as absorptive listening and really ties in with the DBT skill of OBSERVE. It does not come naturally to most people and most certainly does not come natural to me.

Recently I have started practicing absorptive listening and have become very aware of my inner dialogue;  a mental voice urging the person talking to "hurry up and finish speaking so I can tell you what I think!!!" As you can imagine this voice can interfere with tranquil, attentive listening. I discovered I rarely just allow myself to 'absorb' what the other person is saying without trying to tie it to my own life somehow or come up with a solution to the problem they are telling me about.

I 'but' in to other people's conversations and jump to a new topic before the last has really ended and to be honest I have come across as plain rude in some cases.... not intentionally... but just due to a lack of awareness, a absence of mindfulness.

I know how great it feels to be on the receiving side of absorptive listening, and am blessed to have some fantastically mindful friends who I feel really 'witness' me when I talk, (or write, as I have some great on-line friends). I would love to nurture that talent within myself so that others may feel that total attention from me.

Compassion for my Past Self

What if we looked at emotional sensitivity as simply another way to experience life? I would like to live in a world where there is more than one way to be social. 

The expected way to relate to others comes through external channels, such as other people, home, school, work and the general public. These come with a prescribed way of acting and being. 

But what happens if it’s impossible for you to swallow an approved social remedy? We feel like we are missing out on life because there seems to be a piece missing. We compensate for the overtly stimulating world with coping strategies. I turned to food, study and avoidance. They became the rules by which I could function for a time. They were my compensatory methods for living in a world full of difficulties. In a world which is overwhelming, emotionally over-stimulating, and just too demanding, this was a smart strategy; I had to establish a way I could live amidst a world of social encounters I couldn't relate to. 

Food was my numbing essence, it was comparable to a resolved hug from a caring parent, full of comfort and compassion and unconditional love. I ate until my world made sense again, until I felt the familiar pain and stretch in my stomach that reminded me that I was a living, breathing human being. The food passed my lips like smooth caramel that cascades from high up off a wooden spoon as it’s ladled from a hot sauce pan and falls back into the sweet sticky mass.. I ate to fill the missing piece I lacked in life. I ate until I felt like a full person. 

The release after overeating came like the shutter release on an old manual camera. All it took was one finger gently pressing down on the right spot. The picture of the inside of that toilet bowl will be burned into the back of my mind forever. 

I wasn't a natural academic. I worked hard to find the peace and control good grades offered me. It was a steady focus I could control. It also gave me an excuse to practice my third coping method; avoidance. I arrived to school early most days, and rarely went home before 8 pm  The library and study rooms became my best friends. I loved the stillness; I loved the silence they offered. Finally I found a place that didn't overwhelm me. I had my own small place which I inhabited. Yet due to dyslexia, I couldn't always concentrate on school work for long periods of time, so often I would read or day dream about the stories I read. I became aware through literature how the characters in the books dealt with life. I was drawn into the safety of the stories and the friends I gained by scanning each line. I learnt how to be from those books.

Even when it came to sport, I avoided team games and opted for swimming. It was a solitary exercise. When I put my head under the water, the world became still and quite. The gentle echoes were comforting and safe for me. And this way less people asked questions as to why I came into school so early. I could cry easy in the pool and nobody knew. 

As I look back at my teenage years I can see clearly that I have always been a very sensitive person, easily overwhelmed and highly emotional. I didn't know that then though. I just thought that my general ‘being’ was wrong and non-functional. 

Okay, these coping methods were never going to useful forever, but in a way I am sort of proud of my little adolescent self. She found a way to survive, to live and to get by in a scary lonely world. So now I don’t look back with scorn at my past behaviors  I look back with compassion for a girl who didn't know any other way to stay alive. And in twenty years I will look back on what I will have learnt and see that right now I am doing the best I can do right at this moment. I will always face difficulties, I don't like to think I will be this way for ever, but the harsh reality is that

Thoughts are not always facts!

Living one day at a time 

Enjoying one moment at a time 

Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace 

Taking this difficult world 

As it is 

Not as I would have it. 

And in this way 

Opening to Grace 

And the Joy and Peace that comes with it.

Thoughts are not facts. They may not always be your friends.....

In the midst of a full blown emotional dysregulation attack I find myself so much estranged from my heart, body, and spirit, relying almost exclusively on the thoughts in my head for guidance, companionship, criticism, and comfort.

To hear “your thoughts are not facts” was scary to me. If I couldn't trust my own thoughts, was there anything trustworthy I could count on?

I slowly began to understand more about thoughts during the summer (and a bit) I spent inpatient at a hospital in Dublin, their nature and purpose, how they arose and where they went after I stopped paying attention to them.

Along the way, I learned that thoughts were not necessarily my enemies either.

They were just my thoughts.

And even the “my” was up for debate, because technically they belonged to no one until one floated by in my mind and intrigued me, at which time I reached up, nabbed it, and claimed it with a triumphant  “Mine!”

Thoughts, one kind occupational therapist explained, are like clouds. Only much closer to the ground. 

We snatch them up as if it they are the last pair of jeans on sale in our size. We are afraid it will get away before we decide if we want it or not.

I feel I know so little about myself that I seem claim anything and everything so that I will not be left with a shell where a personal identity should be.I must be choosier, I have the right to question each and every thought – to turn the tables and become the exclusive commodity that my thoughts want to hang around!

I am the one who is in demand. I am the one that keeps my thoughts keep hanging around. I have limited capacity for thoughts, and only want the cream of the crop.

Therefore, each thought must go through an extensive screening process, much like a job interview. “What can you add to my life?” “What have you come to teach me?” “Are you here to uplift me or drag me down?” “Are you telling me the truth?” If I see a thought float by that looks interesting, I can pause it, circle its perimeter, ask it a few questions, then decide whether to pull it down into my awareness for further scrutiny and conversation, or just motion it along.

I realize now that I have the right to question my thoughts – but my thoughts do not have the right to question ME. WE choose them, and not the other way around.

Mindful Moments

The time of your life?

How do you experience time in this season?

Are you in control of your time? time as a whole?

or does time control you?

How do you relate to time?

When I don't want to deal with something I seem not to experience time accurately. I block time out, dissociate from it, try to run away from it. Days or weeks can slip by without me taking stock, and I find it hard to recall memories with much detail. 

Now, after almost two years of therapy, I try (but don't always succeed) to take in each moment for what it is, not run away from time, but experience it.

This is the essence of what I have come to know today as mindfulness. Learning to let go and be without thought, without judgment, without mind, to really be present with each and every moment.

This is easier said than done. Instead, I waste my time either ruminating over past mistakes or worrying about future catastrophes. But I have learned that I can’t change the past. So why live in it? There are no guarantees for the future. So why jump to conclusions? Of course it is intelligent to plan for the future. It is also smart to learn from my past mistakes. However, it is irrational to worry about that over which I have no control – e.g., the past and the future.

Living in the “now” allows me to be present, mindful, and experience the passing of time. Whatever emotion or thought I am experiencing, whether positive or negative, over time, has to pass. The moment I wrote these words has just passed. Try to hold onto it… I can’t. The moment I write THESE words has passed again. And so on and so forth. This is what is meant by “This too shall pass.” Every moment is moving toward the next moment. Being present in THIS moment as it occurs leads to mindfulness.

The only time we have control over is this very moment. So If I live each moment as it is, life seems less overwhelming. I can always manage what the next 60 seconds will bring, and then I move on the the next moment and so on.

Christmas Flashbacks

What does December/Winter mean to you? 

This is a really hard post for me to write. December means painful memories and flashbacks full of grief for me. When I was 4 years old my little world came crashing down around me. My sense of safety, of consistency, of stability was all destroyed when my father fought his last physical fight with my mother, packed up his possessions and left us. He walked away from my mother and abandoned me and my sister. 

I didn’t understand what had I done? Was it something I said? How could I make him come back? It must have been because I wasn’t well behaved, because I talked too much, because I annoyed him, because I wasn’t the perfect child. 

My memories of the separation are patchy, but the emotions attached to them are real, and are important; really important. I was scared that my mother would leave me next or my sister. I turned from an out-going child to a needy and serious little girl within days. I carried a furrow on my brow and a lump in my throat, and somehow, Christmas just didn’t seem all that exciting anymore. 

As the years went by my father compensated for his lack of emotional attachment to me and the non-existent yet much needed expressions of love with sensational, expensive gifts. It was as if he was showing up my mother who just about managed to put food on the Christmas dinner table, and keep us excited about getting a token from Santa. He picked us up on Christmas morning and showered us with gifts our mother dreamed of giving us, but couldn’t because my father lied and cheated his way out of paying child support. 

I knew something wasn’t right, but I couldn’t articulate my emotions the way I can now. I should never have been used as the pawn in my parent’s war. It was not the way a child should have been treated. It affected me deeply and Christmas was always a constant yearly reminder of how other happy families and tight nuclear formulation contrasted sharply with my broken home where sadness reigned and fear propagated like rabbits. 

So December means difficult emotions for me. Sorry no Christmas cheer is this post, but I thought that writing a bit about my story might give you some insight into what went on for me so you can see that these things can be processed and that there are ways to overcome painful memories.