When I was in grad school, everyone talked about how important it was to have good boundaries. At first I thought, boundaries? What are those? I guess that was a sign of how far I was from having any.
In my defense, Asian cultures have a different definition of boundaries than American culture. For example, it’s perfectly acceptable for any Filipino adult to tell you that you’ve gained weight and that look fat now, that you should have a baby, that maybe you look fat because you’re about to have a baby? OK then you’re just fat. This is one of the downsides of having all of those aunts and uncles that aren’t actually related to you.
The original post was written on October 14, 2013. If you would like to read it, you can do so here.
This post was originally written on October 11, 2013, back before arthritis in the hip wasn’t a thing. Ahh, the good ol’ days. Although, in all honesty, I’m way more chill about competition now.I have always been more of a love to win vs hate to lose player. But mostly I was a love to hang out with my friends and eat dinner afterwards kinda gal.
If you’d like to read the original post, you can do so here.
The next podcast series will include interviews with my niece. This one was from a blog post written on November 27, 2014. You can read the blog post here.
I first learned to knit at an eating disorder conference. The presenter was using knitting as a metaphor for what recovery was like. It’s so difficult to figure out how to get started, or to think you’ve made progress, only to have to rip everything out. The presenter was totally addicted to knitting but clever. And it’s true. Knitting has taught me a lot about life. The blog post can be read here.
Eleven years ago I wrote my first blog post about anger. That was a tough one to write about because I felt so ashamed of my anger. That I had it at all. That I couldn’t control it. That it didn’t make any sense. And I was angry that when I tried to get support, whatever people said wasn’t helpful.
I didn’t say specifically in the post what my friends said, but since the same thing is happening right now, I’m guessing it was something like, stop being angry. You’re making me uncomfortable. Go over there somewhere so I don’t have to feel it.
I’m not one to attack someone. But if you attack me by telling me something like I don’t know what I’m talking about because I’m just a psychologist and you’re a physician, you should start running now.
Because this is what my dad told me when I became a psychologist. Stuff like, because you’re just a sorry ass psychologist instead of an M.D., you can’t even afford a Mercedes Benz. Because that’s what’s important in life.
He has Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD), Bipolar Disorder, trauma, and Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI). Ironically, the TBI is because he was trying to save his Mercedes Benz when it was rolling down a hill backwards and he jumped in to hit the brakes.
These conditions are all examples of Autism. Or Neurodiversity. Or as I like to call it, good ol’ neurospiciness.
Neurospicy people become very easily dysregulated and have a very difficult time knowing what to do to self-soothe. Because they have no idea what they are feeling or what’s triggering them.
Recently I’ve been told 3 times by 3 different physicians that I don’t know what I’m talking about because I am a psychologist and not an M.D. At least that’s how I heard it. But it’s certainly possible that it was something like that and I got triggered and then became dysregulated. Because it was traumatic, hearing that over and over again.
Anyhoo, it inspired me to look up stats on ChatGPT related to clinical psychologists and physicians. Did you know that the percentage of people who say they want to be M.D.s and succeed in doing so is only 6%? So physicians are also neurospicy, but on the opposite end of the spectrum, toward the brilliant end.
Being brilliant is technically “abnormal” too, based on statistical infrequency. But since we value brilliance, we don’t call it a disorder. Disorders are just for things that people do that we don’t like.
It can all get kind of political, really. So I prefer not to pathologize anyone. I tell my clients that we are all just human beings, being imperfect, feeling all the feelings on the spectrum of humanity, doing the best we can trying to figure out how to do this very hard thing called life.
I couldn’t find an equivalent stat for licensed clinical psychologists, but the closest one was that only 7% of the people who apply to research-based clinical psychology Ph.D. programs are accepted. However, you still have to defend your dissertation and pass the licensure exam. So 5%, maybe? Also neurospicy individuals.
People with NPD like my dad are too ashamed to admit to any vulnerable feelings, especially hurt and shame, so they project them onto other people. It’s not me! It’s you! And then they get angry and want to beat it out of you.
When one of my brothers was learning his multiplication tables, my dad was inexplicably enraged that our younger brother, who later turned out to be a genius (also neurospicy), could learn them faster than he could. So my dad told my multiplication-deficient brother that if he didn’t learn them by the time he got home, he would be in trouble. Because there’s nothing like the fear of punishment to enhance someone’s capacity to learn.
Not surprisingly, he couldn’t learn them in the next few hours. So my dad yelled at him, which I could only hear from the other room, but it was enough to make me cry and remember to this day. Then he took him into the bedroom and beat him, which was far worse than whatever I could hear.
When we were young adults, my dad was reflecting on this incident, perhaps out of guilt, and his excuse was that he was afraid that our brother might have a mental disability. Because when our mom was pregnant, she and 2 other female residents in medicine got the measles or something, and the 2 other mothers had children with cognitive disabilities.
Decades later, my dad tells me in a rare conversation of vulnerability and honesty that he was teased for being stupid and “retarded” because he couldn’t read. Which was because he had dyslexia, but that term probably didn’t exist back then. His dad beat him and screamed at him so loudly that all of the neighbors could here it because in the Philippines they don’t have windows.
My therapist thinks that he thought if it were his genes that made my brother have difficulty learning, that would make it his fault. I never really understood why couples argue about whose side of the family this “problem” comes from. It’s not like you get to choose your genes. Or your family, for that matter.
When you don’t want to identify with the aggressor, you think, I’m just never going to get angry. I’m going to be this semi-human stoic superhero! So instead, their anger goes underground. Their drill sergeant and inner critic tell them to “toughen up,” “pull yourself up by your bootstraps,” and carry on, as mentioned in the blog post written by a previous client.
Women also have to suppress their anger because it’s frowned upon in women. Just look at what happened to Elphaba. So instead you try to be a people pleaser and blame yourself for everything. Which is ideal for narcissists.
I think it would be much better if we empowered each other by telling people what they’re good at rather than making people feel bad for not being what you want them to be. But it takes more effort to empower than it does to judge.
But trying not to get angry doesn’t work. You may say you don’t feel it, but it’s coming out, anyway, in ways that you don’t even know about. That’s the kind of denial in passivity. Your anger is hidden from you, but you feel very hurt and undeserving.
I had 3 men angry at me yesterday. The first one actually thanked me when I explained to him that I would rather him tell me that he’s hurt so that I could apologize right away. I told him that anger and hurt go together. That often people prefer to identify with one but not the other, so the other one goes underground. So in reality, we’re hurt and angry at the same time. So he and I are good.
But I was so paranoid after he told me that I hurt him that I sent a flurry of texts, checking to see if I offended anyone, apologizing to everyone just in case.
My partner blamed me for repeating what he said because that’s not what he meant to say and I should have known what he meant before he took 20 minutes to explain it and why are we still talking about this! I’m just going to leave.
So I was like, well, OK, but…can I give you your Christmas gifts since we may never see each other again?
But he called to check on me tonight. So that’s something. He has ADHD so he’s neurospicy.
With my brother, I initiated the conversation because of the aforementioned paranoia. I apologized for being passive-aggressive and saying mean things that he doesn’t deserve to hear. I’m just going to own up to my anger and be honest so that I stop making snide comments.
It turns out he was waaaaayyyy angrier at me and has been holding a grudge against me for something that happened over 4 years ago. Because I didn’t know he wanted me to help him put my kitchen table together. Because he didn’t ask me to. I should have known without him having to say it. I was just weaponizing my incompetence to waste his time, which I clearly thought was less valuable than mine. So APOLOGY NOT ACCEPTED!
Whoa!
Please, people, if you’re feeling hurt or angry, just tell the person. You’re not benefiting anyone by trying not to feel. If he had just said, come help me so that I can show you how to read instructions for furniture that comes from China that are on one page with no words, and the parts come in bags that don’t correspond to the numbers, and the “instructions” are arrows, I would have said, good idea!
By the way, I found this out right before I had to lead a meditation. I was honest about it and said hey, I’m dysregulated and I may cry, but I’m glad we’re meditating together.
Then I got my massage, but it was essentially a therapy session, because I had to pull myself together somehow since I was about to see my partner, my brother, and his wife. I wanted to give her a good tip for just listening and giving me a hug because it was essentially a therapy session with a light massage for self-soothing and connection. Which was exactly what I needed in that moment.
But then, when she tried to run my card, for the fifth time in the past month, some hacker associated with Al-Qaeda had tried to use both my cards that day. If you have an Apple credit card, they will automatically reject even the smallest suspicious activity and change your number on the spot. So I used that card.
But for the other one, I had to call my credit card company again and have them re-issue a credit card again. But you can’t call them back from the number from which they called you. You have to pull out your credit card, look at the back, and call the number for U.S. cardholders.
And they ask you really stupid questions about stuff that shows up on their side but not yours and ask you if you can see it, even though they just told you that you can’t. As well as things like, did you make a purchase a week and a half ago for $6 using Apple Pay? And then they say, OK we’ll send a new card out to you in a few days. So I hope you have another card or money in your bank account!
I did this credit card call prior to getting ready for our dinner party. Because I was crying and hysterical, my partner asked me if I was sure I wanted to do this. My drill sergeant was like, yes, you do! You have to make this work! So at first I said yes. And then I thought, no. I don’t have to do this if I don’t want to. I can do whatever I want. So I called them to say I wasn’t up to it and to apologize.
Then I talked to my sister-in-law, since my brother was obviously furious with me, and I told her I had to cancel dinner. I was so upset I couldn’t do it for them. I had grand plans of using fancy china. I had put up my Christmas decorations. I was going to move my space heater to wherever they were sitting because the last time they were at my house they were cold.
My partner had already been cooking for over an hour. And because they asked him to prepare a meal rather than hosting us, for weeks he had been planning out the meal, trying to pick something they would like, and trying to make everything perfect, even though he has ADHD.
I hadn’t even gotten through the list of all the horrible things that had happened to me that day so far. But she thought this was a good time to tell me that I’m out of control, too loud, and too argumentative. And that I should seek psychiatric help. And go back on the meds that made me get surgery for GERD, throw up on the court, give up tennis, sing horribly, and wreck my vocal cords.
She’s a pediatrician. My brother, too. I asked her some differential diagnosis questions about mania, and she admitted that she didn’t know the criteria. But she still knows better than I do about what I need.
Apparently, they had been talking to my best friend behind my back and they all decided that this is what’s best for me. Because over Thanksgiving, when I got into an argument with my brother, because he told me I didn’t know what I was talking about because I was a psychologist. And I hadn’t talked to my best friend in over 2 weeks. So none of them had any idea about the horrible things that had happened before this horrible day. Because they don’t bother to check on me, even though they were obviously concerned. Unless this counted as their check-in.
I was blindsided and confused. Had they been holding on to their feelings about the argument since Thanksgiving? Is that why she had to tell me at that very moment, no matter how poorly timed it was? Was my apology to my brother interpreted as anger and argumentativeness? Had their plan been to come over and ambush me during dinner?
That added the most horrible thing to my list of horrible things that day.
By then, I was so dysregulated that my partner was confused by what they could have said on the phone to make me so upset. Seeing me in that state caused him to become dysregulated. Because it reminded him of what it was like when his family argued, and he just wanted to make it all stop.
So we argued for several painful hours, unable to connect and enjoy each other’s company, no matter how hard we tried. Even though we hadn’t seen each other for weeks. And he is leaving for home tomorrow to celebrate the holidays with his family.
And I never even got to eat dinner.
Still, I advocated for myself on the phone. I addressed every issue that she brought up one by one. I told her that I checked in with every person to ask them if they were bothered by my behavior, and they said no, it didn’t bother them. They think I’m great. I told her I’ll talk to my therapist, and if she thinks I should talk to my psychiatrist, I will. I have an appointment with her this week.
But she said that wasn’t good enough. Because I guess they’re the ones who were bothered by my behavior. She trusts the psychiatrist who we share, who is an M.D., and has known me for about 4 years and sees me every 6 months, more than she trusts my therapist, who is a clinical psychologist that I have seen routinely for the past 26 years.
Neither of them are in therapy because they don’t have any problems. She even went out of her way to tell me they have a good marriage. Which was also confusing, since I had no idea what that had to do with me needing to see a psychiatrist.
Those are 2 of the 3 physicians I referenced earlier.
The other interaction with a physician happened during a gathering that was specifically organized so that all my friends in Roanoke could see me. I did something similar with him that I did with my brother over Thanksgiving. I gave him evidence that he’s neurodivergent on the brilliant end after an impromptu question to ChatGPT about how many people who start off pre-med graduate pre-med. Because even though I didn’t know the answer, I know from 19 years of working in a counseling center that the answer is, not many.
ChatGPT said 16%. And I said it in the exact same way–loudly, in an argumentative manner, and angrily. Because he said dismissively, you psychologists think everyone is neurodivergent.
I also told him that our current administration and the majority of Americans are clearly not neurodivergent, based on the current laws and lawsuits.
His reaction was to tell me that everyone loved me and he wanted to give me a big kiss. Which was also confusing and disorienting, but not dysregulating.
I also texted his wife the next day, who had hosted the party for me, to ask her if I was out of line. Because even being really happy can be dysregulating. She said not at all. I love your energy. You’re so smart and I learn so much from listening to you. And I love having someone to scream at the TV with me during a UVA game.
To “support me,” my best friend and partner told me not to be mad that they’re mad that I’m mad because they really care about me. To me, that sounded a lot more like supporting them.
So after a whole day of crying yesterday because nobody wanted to listen to me or believe me, and everyone projecting their anger onto me–except my friend who thanked me for the insight–I decided to take a self-care day today, talk to my therapist, and take a break by distancing myself from my stress, like my family suggested. And they are the only stress I am dealing with at the moment.
And I’m writing this blog post. Because that’s what I did in that last post on anger and I said it helped. This one is helping, too, by giving me something else to focus on. Because taking deep dives into something is also a form of self-soothing for someone with obsessive-compulsive personality disorder (also neurospicy).
I have a big announcement to make. Since 1999, my favorite movie has been The Matrix. In fact, I have referenced the scene in which Neo can read the code at the end of the movie 7 times in my blog. Well, 8 times if you include this post.
In addition, its themes of how we are destroying the earth, the rise of AI, the power of our thoughts in shaping our reality, and the importance of letting go of our fears so that we can fly are additional reasons for why I love this movie.
Moreover, from a cinematic perspective, the choreography of the fight scenes is still amazing. The chemistry between Neo and Trinity is palpable. This was the first movie to use the 365 degree camera, which made the special effects revolutionary and still entertaining to this day, despite all of the advances in CGI.
The movie Wicked shares many similarities to The Matrix.
Both movies portray neurospicy people who sense that there is something wrong with the world that they live in and feel uncomfortable in it.
They are both singled out for greatness and come from another world to save this new world–a common theme in many of my favorite movies like Kung Fu Panda, The Lego Movie, Avatar, and Star Wars.
They both have amazing cinematography.
They both have amazing choreography.
In both sequels, the protagonists fly.
In the end, both characters die. Sort of. (See Matrix Resurrections below.)
There is a lot of chemistry among the cast. The cast of Wicked has even been teased in the media of being codependent.
The reasons that I now have to bump Wicked up to #1 are fourfold:
There were more choreographed scenes in Wicked.
In the genre of musicals turned into movies,
the singing in Wicked is as good as the musical. Unlike Les Miserables, which also had A list actors, but they did not match the vocal powers of the singers in any musical version and was therefore a disappointment to most Les Miz fans.
The choreography was better than in the musical Wicked, because on Broadway you have to be able to sing, dance, and act, while a movie can pick people who are just great dancers.
The chorus was larger, since movies can have a bigger cast.
The orchestra was much larger than what an orchestra pit under the stage of a theater can hold.
(I realize these subcategories are cheating in terms of saying the reasons are fourfold, but they all refer to musicals turned movies and therefore need to be grouped together.)
The sequel Wicked: For Good is even better than the original, and Wicked, Part 1 was awesome! The Matrix, on the other hand, far outshined the other movies in The Matrix Trilogy. Although The Matrix Resurrections is my second favorite movie because it is the most similar to the original movie and also adds the theme of alternative universes, in which there are 3:
The universe in which Neo has created a popular video game called The Matrix and Trinity is a soccer mom.
The universe of the original Matrix
The universe in which the new Agent is controlling Earth, which is a different Matrix.
While those who have freed themselves from the Matrix are clearly neurodivergent, the movie Wicked has become a tribute to neurodivergence.
It has a diverse cast.
It highlights the ways in which people who are different are ridiculed, bullied, traumatized, and terrorized.
Neurodivergent people are turned into villains while the true evil people mask as heroes who are doing good for their communities.
Neurodivergent people have compassion for other people, animals, plants, and the earth instead of being motivated by self-interest.
Neurodivergent people feel compelled to do what’s right, even if it means risking their lives.
Neurodivergent people tell the truth, sometimes bluntly, even if their honesty will be used against them.
(Again, sort of cheating, but for the same reason.)
The movie Wicked is a proclamation that neurodivergence (differently wired brains) is not only good, but it actually makes the world a better place. We cannot evolve without neurospicy people who push us to be better versions of ourselves and of what humanity can be, if we let them. So thanks to everyone involved in the making of Wicked. And for reminding us that the neurospicy people of the world truly add flavor to what would otherwise be a bland existence.
For some reason, as I feel more like my best self, more guys try to contact me on social media.
The latest guy contacted me in response to my videos trying to promote my free lovingkindness meditation, which everyone is still welcome to attend if you send me your email. Free opportunity to change your life!
But I digress. This guy said he was from California and he was some kind of Mind/Body Coach and had high end clients and wanted to collaborate. I was suspicious, but I figured I’d give him a chance because it’s pretty easy to block people.
So this was the craziest pitch I’ve ever heard. He said he was teaching tantric massage and other body work, and he was meant to meet me because I was the divine feminine and he was the divine masculine. He promised me he could help me reach my full potential by teaching me some body work exercises.
I tried to get him to give me more specifics about what he actually does. How are your conferences structured? What are some examples of the skills you teach? If this is a collaboration, why aren’t you asking me questions about what I have to offer as a clinical psychologist? His answers were always vague and that we just need to get to know each other better so could we talk more tonight?
Because of my problems with saying no, I reluctantly said yes, even though I didn’t have a good vibe. This makes me a target for scammers. Luckily, because I have family, friends, and God to look out for me, nothing ever comes of it. In this case, I messaged him back and said straight up that I looked at his posts and we do not have the same goals (i.e., they sucked), and there was something about our interactions that didn’t feel safe, so I declined and thanked him for thinking of me.
Well this threw him into a narcissistic rage, just like De Becker says in The Gift of Fear. He sent 3 scathing messages, calling me a liar, among other things. Honestly, the messages were so toxic I deleted them without reading them. Then he wrote a sarcastic comment on my video about forgiveness. I figured I couldn’t report an issue because I didn’t have any proof. Interestingly, the next day his profile was deleted. Maybe his messages got tagged on his end. Or maybe he realized his cover was blown.
I’ve also had someone on a dating app try to scam me. All my friends and family warned me that he was probably trying to get money for me, but I thought I’d play along and mess with him just for entertainment. So I’d send a selfie and be like, send me a selfie of you right now! And of course he’d always have some excuse about why he couldn’t send one in that moment and end up sending a very posed photo where he had to be using a camera stand.
Interestingly, my clever sister-in-law was scanning the photos very closely and saw a name on some article of clothing. So we looked the name up on Instagram and it was from this guy in China. I don’t think he was the scammer, because he didn’t speak English. But the scammer used all of his pictures for his profile and for whenever I asked for an impromptu photo.
So then I just called him out on it and told him that I knew he was a scammer and that I had evidence. His sweet tune turned quickly and he said I was overthinking it and he didn’t want to have anything to do with me anymore. Boo hoo! I blocked him, but then a few minutes later decided to unblock him and in that short amount of time he had already changed his name on WhatsApp!
By the way, that’s a telltale sign they’re scammers–they try to get you to move to WhatsApp quickly. Luckily, I had saved all the messages and reported him to WhatsApp and the dating site.
The most surprising “inquiries” have been on LinkedIn. The first 2 guys looked legitimate. They had a ton of work history, listed their schools, maybe even had some posts. But after complimenting me on my dedication to mindfulness or whatever, usually the 2nd or 3rd question was if I wanted to move to WhatsApp. And with both of them I said, are you trying to get me to invest in Bitcoin? And this seemed to genuinely confuse them. So either they were more clever than the dating app guy or maybe they were just trying to get to know me. Which seemed even stranger to me because LinkedIn is not a dating app! So then I was like, well why would we need to move to WhatsApp? And they gave some BS answer about shared interests or something.
Their comments are also gone. I checked just now. So I guess they were busted.
This last LinkedIn guy from a few days ago was definitely a scammer. He had a high up position in “clinical affairs” so I accepted his invitation. But when I went to look at his profile when he sent me a message, he hadn’t even added a picture or work history. This is literally the message that he sent me:
Hi Christy，I was truly moved by your long-term dedication to clinical psychology ， it’s been such a consistent focus throughout your career. I currently work in clinical affairs for oncology drug development, and I often think about the importance of psychological support in treatment adherence and recovery. I’d really love to connect and exchange ideas with you, and perhaps explore opportunities for cross-disciplinary collaboration or shared interests in the future. 😊
Do your LinkedIn comments usually include emojis?
Prior to writing this blog I looked him up and he added a picture of himself and his cat, looking at each other. Very professional. Just to be funny, I replied:
You need more job history to look like a real profile.
But just now I saw he replied and here’s what he said:
Haha, serves me right! I’ve been meaning to address this! I actually work in oncology clinical affairs, focusing on integrating patient support and adherence strategies into drug development. That being said, I sincerely find your dedication to clinical psychology inspiring. I’d love to hear how you integrate mental health into patient care, if you’re willing to share. 😊
So what do you think? Clever scammer? Genuine interest in collaborating? Should I play along and see what happens? I’d love to get your feedback.
For those loyal readers following my hip replacement surgery, I wanted to give you an update.
Despite not playing pickleball, not being able to go to barre classes with my family, and being far less social this summer, I was in fairly good spirits until a few weeks before surgery. I had to start asking for help from my family, and I hate asking for help. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that I don’t like asking for help because I’m sensitive to rejection. My inner critic is always telling me no one cares about me, so it’s easy for me to interpret people’s actions as not caring.
In addition, my surgery got moved up by a week. To most “normal” people, that would be good news. But I had been planning for 3 months to have the surgery on a particular day, and the change required me to cancel additional appointments, cancel my friend’s visit–which I had been looking forward to all summer–and stop my pain meds immediately. Not that they were helping. But still. It required a lot of change.
I was also dreading feeling more pain than I was already experiencing, since it had become excruciating. And I was determined to do my exercises every day until the surgery. I ended up skipping my exercises the night before surgery because I had to wake up super early and by that point it seemed irrelevant.
The good news is that I was super relaxed and joking with all the staff, nurses, and doctors while I waited for my surgery. I fell asleep before they even started the anesthesia because they gave me something for anxiety. And after I could feel my legs and they made me walk, I walked effortlessly. And because they gave me an epidural, I wasn’t in pain until about 12:30 am Saturday morning.
I have to admit, the next 2 days were pretty excruciating. Mainly because I was trying to be compliant and get up and walk every hour or 2 while I was awake, and it was torture getting on and off the couch. l only used the pain meds to sleep because I was so paranoid about addiction, so mainly I sucked it up. Luckily by Monday I was good.
This was also when I had my first PT session and he said I was in the top 5% of people in recovery. And you know how I like getting A’s. He said I didn’t need to use the walker anymore and that I would be able to drive later in the week, which is 3 weeks earlier than expected. And as he predicted, by Thursday night I moved back home and by Friday I was walking unassisted and drove 3 times.
My progress has continued to improve rapidly, but because my entire body had been compensating for my hip, I have become more aware of my back pain, which had been present before the surgery but I guess I didn’t register it. But since I dove into work the second week because of my irrational fear of not having money, I had a knot in my back that I had to try to massage and stretch out 5-6 times a day. I would have much preferred to take all the time I had set aside to be off and watch the U.S. Open but the drill sergeant was not having it.
On a positive note, my friend did get to visit me over Labor Day weekend, which worked out better because I was able to walk and drive. We even went to Anakeesta, which ended up being a bust. But I made a video about it that I thought was funny, even if no one else on the trip did.
I’ve learned a lot of lessons from this experience, some of which I’ve shared on my Instagram page if you want to check them out. But I’ll share theme here, too.
People care. As always, when I’m vulnerable, my inner critic is the loudest, but it is always wrong. My family took great care of me. My friend drove for me and gave me tons of positive reinforcement. My friends checked on me. Even my clients asked about me. It’s true that it is an illusion that we are separated from love. We are always connected.
Pain toleranceis a mixed blessing. Had I gone to the orthopedist sooner, like 3 years ago when I had planned, perhaps I could have delayed my surgery. But if it weren’t for my determination to be as strong as possible and do the exercises for 3 months before my surgery, perhaps I wouldn’t have recovered so quickly.
Patience is a virtue. I argued in a former blog post that it is not, but that’s because I was, and still am, impatient. But having to wait for hip surgery, and having to wait another 4 weeks to play is helping me practice, and I think I’m the better for it.
I have much to be grateful for. It’s true that in any given moment, we can look at what we don’t have, or we can look at what we have. We can look at both, even, and perhaps that’s the better option. Rather than “bright-siding” it, which is dismissive of our pain, we acknowledge everything and then decide what in this moment we want to focus on. Right now, the thing that keeps me going is the hope that I can play tennis again, after 6 long years of not being able to. And even if I can’t, I want to be active and see my friends again.
You know how people ask you how you feel to be a year older and you usually say the same? Well this year I felt great! And I haven’t felt great in a long time. Which is why I haven’t written a blog post about myself for a few years. So I figured it was time for an update.
It’s been almost 4 years since I’ve moved, and it has taken a long time for me to feel like myself again. Like, in the past few months I had gone through a long depressive episode that was the worst I had ever experienced. And I was already feeling pretty bad, since I moved because I was under so much stress I thought I was going to die before I got to retirement age. So to think that things were going to get better and instead have them get worse for 2-3 years really made me question my relentless optimism.
But I still pushed myself to make a life here–without friends who I considered family, without tennis, which was my life, without financial security, and without a partner. I did lots of things out of my comfort zone. I went to Meetups. I forced myself to go to fitness classes. I started playing pickleball even though I sucked at it. I went on dating apps even though I hated it.
The only things that were successful were pickleball and dating apps. I have made some good friends now, and I met someone who I’m still seeing. He’s a lot younger than me, which was hard to reconcile at first, but now it actually helps me feel younger. In my first birthday blog post I said that I didn’t feel that mature, and I still kinda don’t. Maybe it’s because I am so in touch with my inner child. I don’t know if the relationship is going to last, but I’m becoming more comfortable with not knowing and just accepting what is.
I’m also trying a lot of new things this year, which is also helping me feel more joyful. I’m into Lego flower sets, in addition to my other hobbies. I signed an acting contract with a local talent agency in December and last month I signed a contract as a UGC creator, despite not having any acting experience or not knowing what a UGC creator was. So it’s been an interesting journey. I’m not expecting to make a lot of money, but it gives me other ways to express myself and be creative. And just to see what happens without any expectations.
For my birthday, one good friend came down to visit me, another good friend sent me a meal, the guy I’m seeing came down to surprise me, and I celebrated dinner with my family and with one of my pickleball groups. So I ate well for several days. And all of the Happy Birthday wishes really moved me. I feel so grateful that people took out time to wish me happy birthday. Sometimes several times. Although that might have been an accident. I do that, too. Now I understand what senior moments are. Or what I like to call brain farts.
The other evidence that I’m getting older is that I’m scheduled for hip replacement surgery on August 21. I’ve obviously had arthritis for decades, and I knew my hip was hurting, but I didn’t realize how advanced it was until I fell while playing pickleball back in January. We were going to Disney World in February and I was going to have to walk 20,000 steps a day, so I decided to go to an orthopedic doctor. For some reason, it never occurred to me that the pain could be arthritis. Even more shocking was that it was so advanced that he didn’t think the injection would help and that I would need hip surgery soon. I didn’t believe him but he was right. The first injection lasted just short of 3 months, and the 2nd injection didn’t work at all.
Despite these telltale signs of aging, I’m still in pretty good spirits about it. The prognosis looks good. I should be able to return to pickleball pretty quickly. And I have people to look after me while I’m healing. Financial insecurity and not having anyone to rely on have been 2 of the biggest anxieties of late. It turns out I don’t have to worry about either. For now.
But that is another place where I’m trying to practice mindfulness and be in the moment. My favorite quote is that mindfulness is the process of constantly letting go. Maybe one of the reasons I started practicing is because I knew it was going to be hard to let go of all of the things you lose in life. And to accept all of the things that I had already lost. Plus I wanted to be aware of all of the things I still have to be thankful for. And since I’ve started practicing lovingkindness as well, I’m better able to feel other people’s love rather than question it, worry about losing it, or be anxious about not being loved at all.
I also mentioned in my first birthday blog post that having people read my blog was a gift that I had not anticipated. People would tell me how much it meant to them, when I was just sharing the things that made me feel so flawed. I had no idea how great that would feel. Now I only write occasionally, but people still read my blog, even though I do nothing to promote it anymore. And I’m thankful for that, too.
So brain farts and hip replacement surgery vs. all of the love and new experiences I have in my life. I’ll take that ratio. And speaking of numbers, 56 is divisible by 2 and 7, and is therefore not a prime number. If you read my first birthday post, you know how I feel about prime numbers.
A few weeks ago I went with Sadie’s parents to drop her off to college. I was honored to be invited to this rite of passage because I’ve been babysitting Sadie since she was 3. If you’ve been following my blog, then you know that Sadie is more than a niece to me. She’s the twin sister to my inner child Sophie. When she was younger she always wanted to pretend we were sisters. I was more than happy to be the age she picked for me, which was usually something like 16 while she was 7. Still a large age gap between sisters but in reality I’m older than her parents.
Because she is an empath, emotionally intelligent, and wise beyond her years, she worries about my mental health. She knows that I feel lonely when their family goes on vacation so she’ll often call me while they’re in France or Italy or wherever they are. I feel guilty that she can feel it and tries to make me feel better, but that is definitely one of the reasons why we are so similar, since I obviously do the same thing, being a therapist and all.
My dad got depressed when I went to college, and because I am also an empath, I got depressed, too, although I didn’t realize that was the reason at the time. In some ways, he never recovered. I was the first of 4, so the nest kept getting emptier and emptier year after year. My dad coped with his loneliness by living in a state of mania. Ironically, in the end this has resulted in him being completely cut off from the family. But in his fantasies he wins the lottery and he buys a hotel and we all leave our jobs and work at the hotel together, running the family business. Strange how our coping mechanisms for loneliness end up leaving us feeling even lonelier than we were before.
To make matters worse, I’ve been seeing someone for the past few months who often leaves me feeling lonely because he’s long distance and doesn’t need a lot of contact to feel connected. Or perhaps more accurately, he doesn’t want to feel lonely so he doesn’t let anyone get too close. I often wonder if this is some repetition of my own trauma to be with someone who makes me feel lonely. I talk to my therapist about it a lot, and she and I both think it’s me. I read a book about parentified children that captured my loneliness well. When you’ve had to be the one to tend to other people’s feelings and haven’t had someone care about your feelings, you always feel lonely, like you have to it all on your own.
I think there’s something about the immigrant experience that heightens the feeling of loneliness because you are so far away from your family and you don’t go back often. It leads to intergenerational trauma for the descendants of immigrants. Whether parents tell you or not, you carry the struggle with how to feel connected to a place with people who are different from you, who may not even accept you.
My dad’s first depression was when he came to the U.S. for residency in medicine. He wanted to go back to the Philippines but Marcos had declared martial law so going home wasn’t an option. I think he married quickly and had children as an antidote to his loneliness. In fact, my younger brother and I were both born while my parents were still in residency, which is pretty rare.
So far it hasn’t been too bad since Sadie left, thanks to cell phones. We’ve talked several times, we text. Also, because I’ve been practicing lovingkindness regularly and in my weekly meditation, I am constantly reminded that we are always connected, and that loneliness is an illusion. Just like my not feeling loved is an illusion. When I first started meditating, I could feel other people’s feelings more clearly–new clients, friends I hadn’t seen. Several months ago I made a deal with a client that we would practice lovingkindness as a way to heal our country, and since then I have felt other people’s feelings even more intensely. As a result, I started wondering about how a particular client was doing who I was no longer seeing. I reached out to her and found out that she was not doing well and was feeling lonely so we start meeting again. It is because of her that I started the lovingkindness group and have started blogging again. In fact, she gives me more homework than I give her. So although I reached out to her because I felt her loneliness, it turns out that she has helped me feel more connected, as well.
Lovingkindness is like a boomerang–it always comes back to you. So now when I’m feeling lonely, I send lovingkindness to the person I’m missing and ask them how they’re doing. Most of the time I feel connected again.
If you’d like to join the weekly meditation, send me an email at cbarongan@gmail.com and I’ll put you on the list. There’s no cost, no obligation to attend, or even to stay for the full meditation. I’ll also send a recording of the meditation for that week so that you can listen to it on your own time if you prefer. Hope to see you there. It truly is an antidote to loneliness.
