Phoenix Process

It's been a rollercoaster of a week. Down, up, down, up, mostly down but not in a lying-down-in-a-depressed-funk kinda way. More like a carry-the-angry-dark-cloud-around-with-you-while-you-do-your-stuff kind of funk. But I'm OK now, for the moment.

In the time I've been back, Mum has had the operation on her back to stabilise her spine and she is now 4 days out of hospital. The excruciating pain she was in was due to her vertebrae pressing down on the nerves. Not nice, not at all. But she is out now and slowly recovering. She is getting down now - depression is often due to repressed anger and I know she is angry, very angry. Angry that this has happened to her, angry at the doctors for not being able to fix it right away and she was put through a lot of pain "all for nothing", angry that this is stopping her from leading the life she wants to, however temporary that may be. She is holding tight onto that anger, not letting it go and suffering because of it. I know what happens to you when you hold onto anger. It sits inside and festers and boils and makes you miserable. And the people you love and care about the most bear the brunt of it. And I'm sure it's slowing her recovery because it keeps you in that dark place. This is not her fault, not by any stretch of anyone's imagination, but that doesn't change that it has happened and that we need to deal with it in the best way possible.

I hope she knows that she is not alone, for although we can't imagine the pain she went through, we want to help her in all our individual ways. I will call her and support my father in whatever way I can, my brother will cook for them (he's staying there because of his own dramas), my sister will help with housework, cooking and a thousand other things we'll never know about, my Dad will do doctor's appointments, shopping, cleaning and medicine and her friends will be there to take away the loneliness of long days spent slowly recovering.

*

As to my own situation, well, you know it's easy to spout words but not always easy to follow through, so I've been re-reading a book called Broken Open, by Elizabeth Lesser. The author is a spiritual teacher and teaches that difficult circumstances and events pave the way for growth (that's putting it simply) - there is truth in the saying that 'what doesn't kill you, makes you stronger'. She describes the process as the Phoenix Process, after the mythical bird that dies in a burst of flames and then builds itself up again from the ashes. She says the only way to get through the hard stuff in life is to fully relinquish the resistance that we naturally have towards such events and experience them for exactly what they are. Once you've done that, only then are you able to pick yourself up again and rebuild yourself and your life - in essence you are a different person for having gone through what you have. It made sense, to me anyway, in the same way A New Earth did. The more we hate and fight our circumstances or the things that happen to us, the worse we make it for ourselves. Acceptance and non-resistance is the way to freedom from the anguish and suffering we create for ourselves.

The thing about the Phoenix Process is that it happens again and again, allowing us to learn more and more, about ourselves mostly and how we are with the world. I've seen ex, from a distance, go through his own 'stuff' - going out, drinking til he's passed out, trying new things, people and activities (to put it mildly). And now I think he's on the way up - but he has a long way to go. He's changed in many ways, he is not grateful for what he went through and he still doesn't take any responsibility for what happened between us.

For myself, I think the process of going down happened over a rather long time and I finally hit bottom just before I left in 07. Having finally accepted that my marriage had to end, I was able to make the decision to leave and then begin the very long business of salvage and repair. Though I'm much better now, I recognise that I still have a long way to go before I will feel completely at ease with myself and I know along the way, there'll be times when things will get tough. At those times I will resist and hate and desperately cling to what little control I have... and then it will get too much and I will let go. I will wallow for a while and feel and cry and get angry, but then it will pass. And thank the universe that it does.

We never like change. We all think that life should be easy and run smoothly. But it's just not like that - not at all. And I know you know that.

Cheers.

Reply to Mr Scorpio

Perhaps I used the wrong term.
Rather than "Rock the Boat" perhaps I should have said "take the lead".

Taking the lead, taking control of the situation - whatever the semantics, he's not going to like it.


What I liked about your possible reply was that it was capable of being delivered firmly without being nasty.
Is it possible for you to control your destiny in a consolatory manner?
“I promised that I would do (fill in the blanks) and I intend keeping my agreement. What I need from you, want from you is nothing more than (fill in the blanks)”.

These are good words. Quite non-confrontational, non threatening, re-iterating what has already been said and then telling him what I want from him. As to filling in the blanks, I would like to have the guts to say it like this:

"I promised that I would stay here for 3 years with you so that the kids could be together, with both their parents and I intend keeping my agreement. The end of the three years is next year. What I want from you is to remember that you said we would tell the kids what is happening and give them a choice about where they want to stay and where they want to study. And when we make the choice for them, I want my opinion to carry as much weight as yours. I don't want to you dismiss my opinions as the ramblings or emotional baggage of someone who is emotionally unstable (I have to say this because even though I don't believe it, he still does.), because I am different back home - this emotional mess-of-a-person is not the real me. I need you to trust me that I know what I'm talking about."

I don't know if I'd be able to say the last bit though. That's hard because it makes him seem like the bad guy and if there is anything that will make him angry, that would be it. So I might just say the first bit and see what happens.

Whether these words are the correct ones or not of course MUST be your choice.

Absolutely. I think they are very close to being the right ones.

The reason for this concept is you now taking less of ex’s sh*t with regard to being a failure on so many levels.
I wonder just how successful he would be if you all came back here because financially you were better off and let him convince you again that you are better off there.

I really have no idea what he would do, whether he'd be successful or not. I would want him to be, for so many reasons.

Ex is no fool, he had a good job here, you earned good money here, you certainly have support here so why does he not wish to return here?
I know he will lose control of you and the situation BUT is that the only reason he will not wish to return?
That wouldn't be his reason, if only for the fact that he doesn't think he is controlling. And sometimes he isn't. According to him, he had nothing in Australia. He's told me outright, there was nothing there for him. Shit, whatever love I had for him then, meant absolutely nothing. Whatever good memories I had of us mean nothing. But I guess that's to be expected, given the filter he is looking through - it's a very dim filter, tainted by so many years of feeling miserable / depressed and having no control over the situation. So that would be his reason. He may still surprise me and come over.

REALLY Bad Day

Dear Ex,
Don't you know that avoiding people with a mood disorder makes it worse for them and hence, worse for you. I know I should be like you, strong and unemotional, able to control my mind or if I can't, to take time out and sleep and watch tv for hours on end til it passes. BUT I AM NOT YOU.

I AM ME and as far as I can gather, I AM NORMAL. But that's still not good enough for you is it, because as long as I am who I am, there will always be something wrong, multiple layers of failure, as you're so fond of saying.

J

Another List

Listening to: Lady Gaga and Orianthi. Love Orianthi's song "According to you". Yes, I do listen to music not by Adam Lambert, just a little though.

Eating: Mangoes and chocolate. Both are heavenly.

Drinking: Too much coffee. Trying to switch to green tea.

Spending time at: Autistic centre - I love those teachers and the kids there. The teachers cried when I left and cried when I came back. Next year I want to give up private teaching and spend more time with them there.

Avoiding: Ex. He's gone out tonight which makes things easier.

Thinking about: Mum, it's a given but also thinking of Dad. It's a tough time for him and I know he's getting tired.

Wishing: Time could go a little faster so Mum would be better soon and that my kids didn't hate school so much.

Laughing about: hearing my son ask himself "Are my pants on fire?" while he was sitting in front of the fridge getting himself a drink, when what he could really smell was the wok behind him warming up. This was over 2 weeks ago and I still laugh when I think of it. Nobody thought it was as funny as I did. That kid cracks me up.

Planning: no trips, just my assessment for my Level 1 English class.

Watching: American Idol - Adam Lambert was mentor for this week, so nice to see. Tomorrow he performs. Was embarrassed for Ryan Seacrest when he stupidly commented that he was sure Adam had a more talented tongue that he did. OMG!

Wearing: Slightly larger clothes because I've put on a little and a big loose t-shirt that says "I never make mistakes. I thought I did once but I was mistaken." The t-shirt was a present from an old friend. My kids keep asking where I got it from but I won't tell them. It's amazing what you can get when you drop in and ask for stuff. Isn't that right, Mr S?

Reading: newly-found blog 'Not drowning, Mothering'. She's articulate and funny. A great read for us 'good enough mothers'. Oh how I wish ex could see what other mother's get up to.

Considering: taking up walking in the mornings again especially seeing what's happened to mum. If that doesn't scare me into it, nothing will.

Lost: my market mojo - I was all fired up to go to the morning markets for fresh food and stuff but since I've been back I have no desire, at all to revisit that place and I have no idea why!

Enjoying: Getting lots of sleep. Since I've been back, my bedtime has come forward and hour or two and I feel so much better for it. No more afternoon naps needed!

Goodnight.

From the journal...And the drama continues...

When I don't have access to my blog, I do keep a journal - it's a beautiful book that my mother bought for me during my last trip after I'd said "wow, this is a beautiful book" and then put it back on the shelf because I didn't want to spend that much money on a book I may or may not use. Mothers... you gotta love 'em.

So here's what followed after the first week back home to see my mum and help my dad out a little. I'd been home for a week and a half looking after mum, sorting her pain medication out (a two hour job initially), doing some housework and a little bit of cooking and helping my sister out by keeping an eye on the kids for her while she worked - my nieces are a joy, really. As it happened, I came at a very good time and turned out to be really useful, ok ex?

7/4/10
Hospitals smell like painkillers. The type you inhale from a portable thingummy-jig while the paramedics pump morphine into your veins in an attempt to quell the excruciating pain you are having, all the while loading you into the back of an ambulance.

So ended the night of my 43rd birthday. My mum attached to a vial of morphine and me riding behind her, trying to calm her and assure her that I was still there.

It was my first ever 'emergency' - I've never been in, nor called, an ambulance before (and I didn't call it, my dad did). Had it not been for the fact that I was accompanying my mum to the hospital, it probably would have been rather exciting - riding around in a van with two cute, capable guys - what's not to love! Being in the ambulance was, at the very least, reassuring - we had everything we needed at that point and mum was coping and calmer. When we arrived at the hospital, I didn't want to get out. I knew once they opened the door of this little medical haven, that things would change and there would be more pain. I wasn't wrong.

For the next hour, while waiting for a bed in the emergency department, the paramedics continued to try and control the pain that was ravaging my poor mother. Drugs send you stupid and my mother was no exception. They pumped even more morphine into my precious mother's arm while she periodically passed out, writhed in pain and hallucinated. It was hell for her and so painful to see. I couldn't help myself and I cried for her distress. And yet, her character still managed to fight it's way through the haze of drugs. You know how mothers are, always checking on you. She asked whether I'd bought the tomatoes for dinner, whether I'd cooked that meat up yet, had we eaten dinner and she even remembered it was my birthday and apologised for making it a terrible one. "Fancy having to spend your birthday here" she lamented. Only hours before she'd been insisting that I not cook the schnitzel I'd bought because she didn't think I should cook on my birthday. I understood where she was coming from, but I wanted schnitzel for dinner, not fast food crap! In the end, I gave in, told my dad to let it go and that we'd get bbq chicken and something else for dinner. Funny how things turn out. I didn't have to cook that night and dinner was a cheese sandwich at 3 am the next morning.

Doped up on drugs as she was, she became paranoid too. She was sure she heard the other ambulance guys telling each other that they were going to carry me off somewhere. She swore like a trooper and then apologised. In between tears, I tried not to laugh at the absurdity of what she was saying but it was as hard to do that as it was not to cry.

I'd like here to acknowledge to efforts of Nick and Charlie (who I know will never read this, but that's beside the point) - the two paramedics who calmly came and rescued us all from the pain mum was in. They calmed her, but they saved us too because we honestly did not know what else to do for mum. It was beyond us because we are not doctors and they came to the rescue. Their calm confidence was like balm to the whole situation. When they turned up and brought in their bag of tricks, I instantly trusted them. I had to I guess, because there was nothing else for it. All I wanted was for them to take the pain away from her - nothing else mattered beyond that moment.

The wait in the emergency room was interesting, scary and something I don't want to do again. Interesting from the point of view that it was like being in one of those horrible reality shows. I could almost hear the narrators voice announcing our arrival - "... and this is L. After having an operation on her spine to remove a nasty infection, L has found herself in excruciating pain and has had to return to hospital to find out what's causing it. Her daughter, who's looking rather scared and bewildered, has come back from overseas to help look after her..."

The other interesting thing was the demeanour of the paramedics. They don't get attached or emotional around the patients - they have to be that way of course because you could imagine the stress. They talk politely to you, they do their job and they joke around and talk with one another as if it were any other job. Amazing to see.

We waited for an hour with those 'nice boys' as my mum called them. The whe was wheeled into the emrgency department and tended to by a young nurse, Biance, who showed equal amounts of confidence and compassion. She was our nurse for a mere hour before her shift ended and nurse Brian took over. We didn't meet him until I'd pressed the 'nurse' button. I couldn't wait any longer to know when mum would be able to see a doctor. 20-something, cute-ish and with a gentle bedside manner, it was his doses of morphine that managed to calm mum's ever-growing pain. I liked his initiative - let's get to this pain before it peaks and keep you comfortable shall we.

My mum's pretty good with pain. Her arthritis means she lives with it everyday, but this pain has her floored. She's terrified that the doctor's won't be able to fix this and she's have it forever - she'd rather die.

Dr Nick eventually came around, I don't know how long we waited, but it didn't seem that long. He reminded me of David Cook, American Idol winner in 2008 - absurd I know. He listened to the whole story and I thought it was good of him because it's a complicated story. He listened, checked and thought about it and said he'd consult with her previous doctors. He said he didn't think there was an abscess or infection and at that point I wanted to believe him, but I didn't. I wanted scans and tests. I wanted problem-solving, the type you see on TV in House. I wanted my mum to be well again and she wanted her life back. Indeed, she was still thinking at that point that she would be coming home with us. I wondered at that point, what scenario we would actually get.

In the end, a doctor from Neurology came and saw her. He was present during her operation and explained that they'd actually removed some bone from her vertebrae (news to us). With some bone missing, the spine is weaker and the vertebrae is crushing together and hitting nerves and that's what's causing the pain.

As a side note, I must be getting old. All the doctors, nurses and paramedics look like kids straight out of a local soap opera - with the exception of Dr Nick, who looked about mid 30's. The guys from Neurology looked young. Neurology sounds so important doesn't it? You'd think doctors and surgeons from that department would be at least middle aged. Nope, definitely not. They guy looked 30, if that. But he spoke with a confidence that belied his young looks, so I could be wrong. And he was Eurasian and they always look like kids until they hit their 40's.

to be continued....

Personally...

I rang home today and ex picked up the phone. Daughter, who I was wanting to talk to, wasn't home. She was instead, over at her cousin's place, doing homework I imagine. Her older cousin is there to supervise her. She's almost 16, so that's OK I guess.

Ex answered the phone like he was pleased to hear from me, but I guess I was dreaming. I wanted ex to ask me how everything was going. I wanted him to want to talk to me, even if it was just being polite, but he didn't. The silence was so awkward. I wish I'd said something instead of just saying that I'll call later, but I didn't because I think that he doesn't want to talk to me anyway so why bother. Maybe he was interested to hear, but feels he can't ask.

I hung up the phone thinking that god-awful question - WHY? Why aren't I good enough for you? What is so wrong with me that you can't see anything worth something in me? I took it so personally, his lack of interest in me and my situation, but I guess he's got to keep his distance just like I do. He doesn't have to be polite...

Every now and then, I still wish things were different between us. I know I make him out to be the bad guy on here, but he can be nice. If you were to meet him on the street or in a social situation, you'd think to yourself what a nice guy... even my Dad said something like "I'm not often wrong about people ('s character), but I was wrong about him. My Dad thought he was nice but my stories and whinging have changed that for him. I try to balance out the story a little by talking about some of the good things that ex does, but it's too late, my parents still hate him.

I mean, what if I'm wrong - what if he really is a nice guy and I've just gone and slandered him because he doesn't give me exactly what I want. I can't do anything about it now, I know that.
And I don't know why I've started thinking about this now. It's not productive, but you know when you get together and share stories and things, I mention some things that ex does and I ask myself if it really is that bad or whether it's just me making it out to be worse than it is. Maybe I'm being the bitch. Maybe I've ruined a completely nice person. I feel like I've slandered him. And yet, my reality was what it was.

Maybe I'm just tired and lonely. My thoughts always go downhill when I'm tired and I am. I'm so tired of this situation yet I know the hardest, most tiring part is still to come. I just want to move on with my life and I think being home exacerbates this feeling. I feel stuck between two worlds and I don't like it. You know, in Malaysia I don't feel like I belong, because I don't. But here at home, I don't feel like I belong either. I seem to be swamped easily by the things around me, especially if I'm out shopping. There's so much to take in and so many things to remember - and the array of choices here is incredible. I do cope, but I'm slow. In Malaysia, I only use cash. Here, we use ATM cards and I forget how to use them - which way to swipe them, whether I want cash or not, what account it's attached to - and my slowness makes me look a few cans short of a six pack. In Malaysia, because I look different, people don't expect me to understand, so they allow for it, but here, I just look like everyone else so I come across a bit ditzy. It's an interesting feeling, not belonging anywhere. I'm sure it will change when I move back.

Enjoy your Easter Sunday, eat loads of chocolate - the dark chocolate here is REALLY good, trust me. I love dark chocolate and eat more than I should somtimes by convincing myself that it's pretty good for you - antioxidants and all that. Wonerful comfort food.

Cheers.

PS And mum is doing really well. She's walking around the house sans walking stick and is getting the antibiotic drip taken out tomorrow. She still has enormous pain but she is walking around now and that's gotta be good. Just don't feel guilty mum, no one minds that you have to take it easy and now is not the time to be polite to guests and stay up more than you can. Ok?