For the first fifty years of my life (everything other than this year, in other words), I was an anxious person. Taiji helped mitigate it somewhat, but it was still always there.
I come by it honestly. My mom is a highly-anxious person, and when I try to address it with her, she has a million reasons why it’s a reasonable reaction to what’s going on. Eventually, I give up and she thinks she’s won the conversation/discussion/debate. In reality, I just lose steam and can’t be bothered to keep going. Not when I know it won’t make a difference in the end.
I once read about how ruminating/griping doesn’t help because you aren’t doing anything practical about the problem, but you feel as if you are. That really made sense in terms of my mother. She spends a half hour rattling on about a problem (most often having to do with my father), but doesn’t come to any conclusion. And does it again. And again. Then thanks me for listening. As if I have a choice.
It drives me mad that she says she shouldn’t talk to me about my father, then does it, anyway. The last time she was here, I flat-out told her not to say she shouldn’t talk about it because we both knew she would. At one point recently, she had the gall to say that it was my duty as her kid to listen to her bitch about her marriage. And she’s a psychologist!
She shut up about that quickly when I pointed out that this was back-ass-wards from what should actually happen. The parents were supposed to be the ones who take care of the kids, worrying about them and making sure they’re OK, not vice-versa. It’s tricky because I imagine in a healthy family, of course you’re going to worry about your parents as they age.
But that’s because you worry about someone you love. If you don’t love that person, it’s much harder to worry about them except in the general sense. Like, I mean, I wish everyone well and don’t wish anyone harm in the global sense.
But, you cannot make someone love, care, or respect someone if they don’t. My mother wrote a wrought email to my brother and me (while they were last here) about how in Taiwanese culture, you’re supposed to respect your elders. Therefore, we should love and respect our father more. I told her you can’t make someone love or respect some more than they already do. I could grit my teeth and fake it, yes, but that’s just an illusion.
It doesn’t matter, though. It’s all for show. She wants my father to feel as if he’s love and respected–it doesn’t matter if it’s real. For example, when they and my brother’s family went on a cruise, she had my brother buy the tickets and tell my father he had paid for them–even though she gave my brother the money. My brother told me that she later told my father she had paid for them, which defeated the purpose.
She claims she can’t lie to him because he can always tell. Then why even try? Many times, her problems are of her own making, and then she just compounds them.
Back to anxiety. She cannot keep her thoughts to herself. She feels compelled to say whatever’s on her mind. I’ll tell her that she can use her inside voice or that she doesn’t have to say EVERY thought that enters her head out loud. She’ll half-laugh, but it doesn’t stop her.
It angers me. I know it’s because she’s just mimicking the voice inside my head. I have a constant script going about how terrible I am and how awful everything is and and and…except, I no longer have it.
I used to have a voice in my head that told me what to do and how terrible I was because I was always failing. I called the voice The Dictator and it was definitely male. I felt as if I had to obey it, no matter what. It didn’t matter how ludicrous this voice was, it was God, and He was not to be disobeyed. And, really, it’s not far off from the God of my youth. Critical, angry, judgmental, and mean.
After I had been studying Taiji for some time, maybe five years, I noticed the voice started quieting down. It was getting harder and harder to hear. Then, at some point, it disappeared completely. I haven’t heard it in years, and I don’t miss it.
However, I still had the anxiety and the no-way-to-win mentality. K and I had a discussion decades ago about the way her family thought versus mine. She was taking me to the airport, and she was laughing (kindly) about the way I packed. She said she had never seen someone pack as much stuff as I did. I had everything from a roll of quarters to an umbrella to stamps. I said I was raised to be ready for any situation.
That segued into how her mother reacted to the news that K and her husband were separating (that lasted a year, in their twenties, and they’ve been together since). “You’ll be fine with him and you’ll be fine without him.” I laughed and said my mother would have said, “You will be ruined with him and you’ll be ruined without him.” The glass is all empty in the case of my family, and the glass is all full in the case of K’s.
She said how when she was a kid, her mother would send a check to the gas company, but made it out to the electricity company to keep the lions at bay for another week. This was when you had to send actual physical checks to an actual mail address. I admired her chutzpah, but K pointed out that it could all crumble apart if her mom didn’t get it exactly right. So that’s the downside to that way of thinking. The upside to my mother’s way of thinking is that she can never be disappointed. Theoretically.
Once I had my medical trauma, I lost 90% of my anxiety.
Side Note: I still haven’t found a pithy way to describe what happened to me. During Krupa’s stream, I said that I went through a life-threatening medical event, which is close, but not quite right. But I guess it’ll do for now. And, funnily enough, I brought it up to mention that it was the way Ideal with my mental health issues.
Waking up from being dead wiped out the intrusive thoughts. Having my medical team treat me with respect and care made my body issues disappear. And my ‘I hate my face’ issues as well. I really wish I could tell women (and, yes, this is gender specific) that they are fucking beautiful as they are, but that’s something that can really only come internally. But, I will continue to tout how much I love my body and appreciate it for getting me through death. Literally.
What I went through to get rid of my anxiety, depression, and body issues–well, that’s not something I can suggest to anyone. But I will continue to talk about my experience and hope that others will get something out of it. That’s the least I can do.