Fear of Commitment?

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Fear & Anticipation

Are you afraid of commitment? Have you been in a relationship with someone who experiences trepidation at the thought of pledging devotion? We tend to think of people who shy away from commitment as being immature or unwilling to make sacrifices. Maybe you use it as an excuse yourself to keep others at arm’s length. Perhaps you generate the term dismissively as a reason to end a budding relationship, stating it as an embedded character flaw.

But what if we are thinking about the fear of commitment all wrong?

What if the true fear is not one of committing and promising to keep, but one of losing? The fear of commitment hides other fears behind its legs. Do you recognize any of these?

Fear of Losing Self

When we commit – to another person, to a career, to children, or even to a lease, we are bonding ourselves to something for a length of time. We can become afraid that we will begin to melt into our commitments, our edges becoming soft and the delineation unclear. Perhaps you fear being swallowed whole by that which you pledged. We all know people who become their jobs or who seem to lose sight of themselves in a marriage. It’s a scary thought to lose yourself. However, it is not inevitable. Be clear who you are. Know your nonnegotiables and your truths and hold to them.

Fear of Losing Freedom

There can be an inverse relationship between commitments and freedom. The more obligations you have to others, the less you can act without regard. Freedom is certainly precious, but it can also be misunderstood. Sometimes we think we want to live in a boundary-less world, but in reality, we tend to want flexible and known limitations. Complete freedom comes with a sense of disconnection and loneliness. We are not that different than the teenager who tests the boundaries, looking for the “no” that tells them they are loved and cared about.

Fear of Failing

When we promise something, we are putting pressure on ourselves to step up and make it work. There is always that doubting voice in the back of our minds that says, “What if I screw up?” There is always a risk of failing. In fact, in many ways, failing is inevitable. It is one of our greatest (and, yes, harshest) teachers but only if we allow it to be. If you try, you might fail. If you don’t try, you certainly will.

Fear of Losing Love

The other losses can apply to any kind of commitment; this one applies to relationships. When we allow ourselves to realize what we have, and to promise to remain faithful to it, we then become aware of the magnitude of its potential loss. The only way to be sure that you will never lose love, is to never allow yourself to taste it. It may be effective, but it is a hell of a tradeoff. This one hit me recently.

So next time you find yourself or another afraid of commitment, look at what may be hiding behind. What are you afraid of losing?

 

Life Whisperer

Posted on by stilllearning2b

photo-212

I started watching The Dog Whisperer about a year after my sudden divorce. Much to my surprise, I learned even more about myself from Cesar Millan than I did about my dog. He always says in his show that he “rehabilitates dogs,” but he “trains people.” In my case, he helped to rehabilitate me after a particularly difficult time in my life. Here are the life lessons I learned from the Dog Whisperer:

Read the rest on the Huffington Post.

The Misuse of Affection

Posted on by stilllearning2b

 

Kissing Black-tailed Prairie Dogs (Cynomys lud...

 

I’ve written before about how much I have learned from Cesar Millan – not just about dogs, but about myself as well.

 

10 Life Lessons From the Dog Whisperer

 

One of Cesar’s common lessons has to do with affection. He cautions owners not to use affection when their dog is in an unstable mental state (usually anxiety, but also fear or aggression). He explains that by applying affection when the dog is unstable only seeks to reinforce that behavior. It’s completely logical, yet not always easy to do. When we see a distressed dog, our first instinct is to comfort it, to try to suppress its discomfort with love. That reaction backfires once the dog realizes that it can garner your loving attention by entering into an unstable place.

 

I’ve been thinking and writing quite a bit lately about my own unstable mental states (we all have a propensity towards one or more). For me, I struggle with becoming (and staying) anxious. I’ve worked on managing my anxiety most of my life and, other than the period after the divorce, it really has never interfered too much with my life. I’m not content with that; however, I want to try to figure out where it comes from and how it grew so that I can strive to venture into anxiety even less.

 

I realized that my ex played an unintentional role in nurturing my anxiety. He didn’t like to see me in distress. When I would get anxious, he would respond by becoming overly affectionate. He would soothe me with words and touch. It was great in the moment. But in the long run? Not so much.

 

It kept me from having to learn as an adult how to get myself out of that unstable state. But even worse, it rewarded anxiety with affection and loving attention.

 

Great. Just the association I want to have.

 

I never realized this connection while I was with him. Why would I? I had my needs met and my nerves soothed. It’s become clearer to me as I’ve gained distance and had to learn how to live first on my own and now with Brock. The first few times Brock didn’t immediately step in to pacify my fears, I was hurt. Upset. Even disgruntled. After all, I saw that as his role.

 

It’s not.

 

Slowly, I started to learn the difference between him being supportive when I truly needed it and enabling my disquieted mind. I had to discern the difference between affection coming from love and affection coming from a discomfort with my mental state. I had to learn how to soothe myself. I guess I hadn’t quite mastered that one in infancy:)

 

Again, I take a lesson from Cesar. He dictates approaching a dog’s behaviors with “exercise, discipline and then affection.” Turns out that sequence works pretty well for this human too. When my mind spins into anxiety, I start by going to gym or heading out for a run. Discipline comes in the form of writing, yoga or meditation. Finally, I’m ready for affection, which at that point, serves to reinforce my calmer state of mind.

 

Cesar says we don’t get the dog we want; we get the dog we need. In my case, I think I got the man I needed too.

BrockTiger

 

 

PTSD After Divorce

Posted on by stilllearning2b

This is one of those links that I’ve pondered in the past but it has really come to a head in the past few days. First, Paulette posted the following review of my book:

Lisa Arends does an effective job in writing about the aftermath, the fallout, of a life-changing shock, on the abrupt desolation of her marriage. The read is a well done walk through all the PTSD and repeating changes that occur, which is depicted in a letter written to her by her exited husband, the commentary on the letter under the umbrella of the devastating changes she experienced, emotionally, physically and logistically are a walk through the fact that PTSD is not just relegated to victims of war, but to any life encounter that uproots your very existence in a shocking manner. She’s a likeable author, an engaging woman, that you take to and feel for, because she portrays the story, the horror she lived, with veracity and integrity, to allow the facts to unfold on the page even if they point a finger back to her (ie: a text from her spouse to his mother-in-law, Lisa’s mother). Devastation upon devastation unravels and what we hold onto dearly is lost, not just in the relationship but also in the family built around it, fury and otherwise. Arends navigates through this debacle with grace and humility, filled with emotions that are painted with strokes that are sure to offer others in similar situations some reflections and ground; she labels as “Lessons” chapter after chapter, ultimately culminating in what she has learned, valuable life lessons, applicable to anyone. But, this is not just a self-help work, or a read for someone in a similar situation, it’s a compelling story of the frailty and misconceptions we all live with, the thin line of trust & betrayal, confidence and fright, love and rejection, all the things that make the paradoxes of life and keep a balance, hopefully the balance stays in some semblance of equilibrium. In Arends case she tilts off the scale and by the Grace of her very nature, the love of her family, and whatever else strength she draws from she journeys through to meet what is most precious to all of us, connecting and opening to trust (applause to Tiger, no spoilers) despite all temptations not to, and in doing so, learning the ultimate, that love does conquer and cannot be soiled by another’s shadow cast upon our soul.

In the book, I never name PTSD. I only describe the events and my reactions. Yet, here was a third party who deemed that to be an accurate label.

Then, yesterday, a post from Out of the Chrysalis (Does PTSD After Divorce Exist? You Better Believe It)  showed up in my inbox. I totally related to her description of her experience.

And I do believe it. PTSD happens when your mind cannot process the extent of the trauma. It’s like a short circuit in your nervous system, where you have trouble distinguishing between real and perceived threats. We tend to think of PTSD as occurring only in life-threatening situations, but it occur anytime there is an acute or prolonged trauma. Not all divorces lead to PTSD, but if it is sudden or abusive, the trauma can be severe and sudden enough to lead to PTSD-like symptoms.

According to the Mayo Clinic, the following are the symptoms of PTSD:

Symptoms of intrusive memories may include:

  • Flashbacks, or reliving the traumatic event for minutes or even days at a time
  • Upsetting dreams about the traumatic event

Symptoms of avoidance and emotional numbing may include:

  • Trying to avoid thinking or talking about the traumatic event
  • Feeling emotionally numb
  • Avoiding activities you once enjoyed
  • Hopelessness about the future
  • Memory problems
  • Trouble concentrating
  • Difficulty maintaining close relationships

Symptoms of anxiety and increased emotional arousal may include:

  • Irritability or anger
  • Overwhelming guilt or shame
  • Self-destructive behavior, such as drinking too much
  • Trouble sleeping
  • Being easily startled or frightened
  • Hearing or seeing things that aren’t there

From Mayoclinic.com.

After I received the text that ended my marriage, I experienced many of these symptoms. I had the flashbacks and the dreams. I had trouble thinking and remembering. I couldn’t sleep and I frightened easily. But, most of all I trembled constantly, my autonomic nervous system was on high alert, waiting for the next assault.

At first, the triggers were everywhere. Driving along the road that passed by my old house felt like traversing a field with buried landmines. I fully expected an explosion at any moment. I responded as though every mention of his name was literally a threat to my life. At any moment, I could be catapulted back to instant where I received the text. It was as though the phone was always in my hand.

My psychiatrist that I saw that first year stopped short of a full PTSD diagnosis, but she mentioned the disorder and selected medications that are used to treat it. I honestly don’t think I would have made it through without the medications. They allowed me to sleep and eat – two things I could not yet accomplish on my own.

Over time, the triggers decreased. I learned how to sleep and eat without assistance. I stopped the medications and was able to use meditation and exercise to reduce any symptoms. I can still feel the shadows of the trauma when I feel like I’m being abandoned again but, for the most part, my mind and body no longer confuse real and perceived threats.

After my divorce, I learned that most people assumed that depression would be the disorder de jour after a break up. They expected me to be sad and withdrawn. Instead, I was hyperalert,  shaking and always on the lookout for the next blow. It’s important to realize that all divorces are not the same and we all respond differently. There is no ‘right’ way to be after a divorce. The labels can be helpful but even they only tell part of the story. Be gentle and understanding with yourself and others. Seek the help you need and know that it does get better.

I wrote more about PTSD after divorce on The Huffington Post.

Are you struggling to find your center again after divorce? My complete, 12-part coaching course can help you leave the trauma behind and find your way back to happy. Learn more!

Home on the Range

Posted on by stilllearning2b

UNDER THE TEXAS SKY

I grew up in Texas.

The trucks in my high school’s parking lot were adorned with gun racks. Animal control had to be called to our neighborhood to capture baby wild boars that our neighbor had housed in his garage when he accidentally shot their mother. It turns out that wooden doors are no match even for a young boar. Venison was a common addition to the lunch boxes in the school cafeteria. Gun cabinets were viewed as essential furniture, their importance falling in place somewhere between a sofa and a table.

I grew up in Texas but I guess you could say Texas didn’t grow up in me.

My parents were more hippie than cowboy. I was raised in a peace-loving anti-gun household. I developed a wariness of guns. I stayed far away from them and felt anxious if one was in sight.  This was a problem since it was Texas. Most of those gun cabinets in my friend’s homes? Yeah, glass fronts to show off the weaponry. I wasn’t fearful of all weapons. After all, I did become a fencer. But guns triggered (sorry, couldn’t resist) a fear in me that I chose not to confront.

Hippies Use Side Door
Yup. We had one of these but ours was blue.

And then I met Brock. My fiance is ex-army. He grew comfortable with shooting during his service. Since then, he has taken several gun  courses to improve his tactical training and to supplement what he practices/teaches with sticks and knives. He is good with a gun – he can send the target to the back of the range and when it returns, it will have a tight circle of holes in an intended area. He never pushed me, but he wanted me to become more comfortable around firearms. I agreed. I knew that my fear stemmed from ignorance. I also was in the early stages of confronting my fears, and this seemed like a natural step.

If my mom has read up to this point, she is probably shaking her head and wondering where I went wrong. Sorry, mom:) You may not want to read the rest…

Shooting Range

For the first year we were together, my exposure therapy was simply watching him clean his weapon after returning from the range and handling an unloaded gun. Last year, I took my first trip to the range. I was nervous, but mainly curious, as I stood in the lobby/viewing area watching the shooters behind the layers of bullet proof glass. I was okay while I slipped on my hearing protection and safety glasses. I was fine until I opened that second door that led into the range and my body reverberated with the sound of a shot. It was visceral. My body startled and shook with every blast. It elicited a primal fear in me. I wanted to exit that door and never look back.

But I stayed. My whole life, I have been wound tight, jumping at noises and physically reacting to stressors. When I experienced so much loss from deaths in high school and trauma from the divorce, this tendency was heightened. I realized that the range was a huge desensitization opportunity – a time for me to be exposed to a sound and feeling that scared me yet carried no negative repercussions. I just stood there against the back wall for a time, watching and listening, still jumping at every discharge. And then Brock motioned me up to the booth.

He showed me how to tell that the weapon was unloaded and had me dry fire a few times to get used to the grip. He then helped me load it and coached me on how to breathe and fire. My mind emptied as I pulled the trigger for the first time. The recoil, although I knew it was coming, still surprised me. I reset and slowly shot the remaining 7 rounds. I don’t think I ever even made the paper target dance, but that was okay.

Yesterday was my third trip to the range, this time with a gun that is sized more for me. The sounds of the range barely bother me now, but I still struggle with relaxing while I shoot. I have a tendency to pull the barrel up as I depress the trigger. Interestingly, this only happens when the weapon is loaded.

I am reacting out of anticipation rather than reality. Yup. Still learning that one.

By the end of the session, I was starting to find the balance between a secure grip and an overly tight one. I was learning how to hold on and relax at the same time. I am still no sharpshooter, but at least more of my rounds hit my target rather than the ones next to me. I am still not comfortable with guns but they no longer have power over me in the same way. By facing my fear, I have gained some control over my reactions. I’ll never be a marksman and I’ll never have a gun rack in my car, but I also feel like I don’t have to avoid guns altogether. Not everything has to be all or none.

So, I guess now that the girl has moved out of Texas, a little bit of Texas has moved into the girl. You probably still won’t want to call on me in the event of a zombie apocalypse, however. I’ll leave that one to those who can actually hit the target:)

TARGET: ZOMBIE!

A quick note on gun control:

There are some who feel that the solution to society’s ills is to arm everybody. Others believe that the answer is found in disarming everyone. The reality? Neither option is a panacea and both are reactions born of fear. We want to control the bad things that happen. But the reality is that we cannot. And that is often scarier than any gun could ever be. There are no easy answers and there are no quick fixes. But I think we can all benefit from recognizing and confronting our fears rather than allowing them to speak for us.