INTENSITY!

​19 July 20
Since my last post, I have not been able to shake the useless-me syndrome and the sadness-depression.  I guess the lockdown had to get to me eventually… but this feeling of being TOO LATE… and useless again has taken away my sense of hope to quite some degree.  I seem to have lost hope in a future waiting for me… as though I’ve come as far as I am able and that it would be a good place to exit while I’m at the top of my possibilities… before I ruin it all and then have to exit at the bottom… There’s a dull emptiness about where I am right now… a not belonging… of being invisibly-lost again.
 
I FELL BACK INTO MY DUNGEON!
 
I fell back into my dungeon!
Flat on my face!
Sprawled out all over!
A disgusting disgrace!
It’s dark and it’s dank
And cold to the bone!
I cannot bear it,
But I’ve lost my way home!
 
~ Panayiota Ryall
(31 January 2009)
 
Already down there, back in my dungeon as discussed in my last post written on 6th July, a church person said they want to call me on 15th… I’m not good with suspense… and what does the church want to talk to me about anyway?  Still struggling with religious trauma syndrome since the transference and counter transference that happened in therapy many years ago, I immediately go into self-defense mode when the church people appear to be hounding/judging me in any way…. “Love me exactly as I am or leave me!” is all I have left for any of them.  Don’t try to change me… don’t try to force your will or way on me… if I am not good enough as I am, then I don’t want to be associated with you at all… it’s unconditional LOVE or NOTHING! 
 
So, waiting for their call brought my over-protective, rebel sub-personality, “Patricia” very much to the surface by the time they called.  My anticipatory anxiety was so bad by the time they called, that I was running to the bathroom literally every few minutes.  So bad that in the end, I put protection on for their call, because I was sure I was not going to be able to hold the waterworks for the full length of the call. 
 
They did call, and the conversation was quite pleasant.  They wanted to know my business from the past… all the things that had hurt my children and I… the abuse I’d suffered as a child and adult… etc.  I told them exactly where I stand now… that I will never let anyone control or force me to THEIR WAY ever again!  I’ve known enough abuse in my lifetime already, to last a lifetime… NO MORE!!!  Love me or leave me! 
 
Right towards the end, they asked if I have been reading my scriptures… WHY?  So, my immediate “Patricia – response” was, “That’s a judgmental question!  If I have not been reading my scriptures, would it mean that that I’m not good enough for you?  Not like one of you?”  That I’d need THEIR FIXING? 
 
I won’t shut up for anyone anymore.  I have been silenced all my life… ENOUGH!  I am finding my voice… but in so doing, I am also pushing some of the people I truly love away, because they just don’t understand where I’m coming from in the moment and cannot forget and remember love and friendship as quickly as I do.
 
Sometimes, I think that perhaps I should stay silenced… keep away from people… that way I can’t ruin anything… I could continue to just live in a “dream world” … a place where everything stays hunky-dory… even if it’s not that way inside of me… at least I could keep the general equilibrium of my life reasonably stable by remaining quiet!  Just like it was when I was a child… a matter of life or death… and just like I allowed to happen when I was married to my abusers!  To keep the peace… to stay safe… a self-preservation strategy…
 
I think there might be healing, in dealing with the outcome of exercising one’s real-live voice… but it comes at a price… it is filled with pain and loss that haunts from the past and threatens the future.
 
I trust that I did not offend the church people, because the conversation seemed to continue genuinely and caringly on both sides.  I heard a giggle in the background when I used my voice… I wondered who else was listening in.  I knew of one… but was there others wanting to know (snoop) more about my business also?  My lack of trust issues imposing negatively-charged intrusive thoughts on the situation.
 
Then that evening, I had to join an online meeting (not church related)… again, the anticipatory anxiety, but for this meeting I gave ample notice via email to all attending, that I would not be answering questions on the evening and that if anyone had any questions, to please let me know two days in advance so that I had time to prepare my answers. 
 
I was so happy when I joined the meeting, to see some of the lovely faces I’d not seen in a while and to reconnect with old friends.  But as sure as nuts!... the ONE had to start off by asking me a question… the same person who embarrassed me in front of the group once before under the same circumstances, KNOWING FULL WELL that I would NOT be able to respond to the questions on the spot due to either not having the answers, or my mind going blank under pressure!!!!  WHAT THE HELL! 
 
I was so angry, and told him straight, “If you had have done what I asked you and sent me your questions two days before I would have done my best to have an answer ready for you!”  FLIP!  DOES HE THINK HE’S MY BOSS OR WHAT… !?!
 
Immediately, I could feel “Patricia” rising to the surface… ready to fight… ready to protect her integrity… us!!!  I knew in that moment in time, that everything had changed… I’d been pushed too far… and so, switched off my video… I hid my face, so that they could not see Patricia!!!  I sat and watched and listened as the same person practically dominated the whole meeting, barely giving anyone else a chance to speak… blowing his own horn as it were… feeling nothing of once again making me feel like a total fool in the process… I was positively MAD!  I could not tell you anything about what was discussed from that moment on… my mind had zoned out, but I was still proud of myself for staying plugged in enough to see the meeting through to the end.
 
A dear friend, who has experienced “Patricia’s rebellious nature” on the surface before, tried to lighten my situation with humour in the background, but that became out of hand and made us laugh a lot… I was verging on hysterical… the kind of hysterical laughter that leaves me completely out of control and suddenly turns to crying… genuinely sad crying… (my brain has such trouble processing emotions and can turn from mischievous laughter to sad-tears just like that!).  I had to tell my friend the next day how hard such an experiencing of humour under pressure is for me to handle and she promised she’d never do that again.  I understood completely though, that she was only trying to help me… and in fact, she did!  She stopped me from allowing Patricia from doing something worse, that I would have surely regretted later on… for instance, Patricia has a surprising collection of rather hectic swear words attached to her vocabulary, that Patty and I, Panayiota, wouldn’t dare to think or speak!  Patricia could get me fired and has caused me some close-calls in the past.  She needs more understanding than the rest of me… she needs, unconditional love and respectful treatment, while, I believe that Patty needs, unconditional nurturing and reparenting. And Panayiota… she just needs to somehow, keep surviving the rest…
 
But whatever happens, during all of this online meeting thing, I was not there in support of another dear friend, who I think would have expected me to stay connected to support him… and as a result, the overwhelming guilt and sense of failure that set in by the next day left me so “beaten” that I could barely function… I did not want to get out of my bed at all… but forced myself to do the right thing and at least try to function by connecting to my work… How could I have let such a good friend down?  How could I have ever have hurt him so much?  (keeping in mind that all of this is what is going on in my own head, and might not be a reality at all)… I felt as though he would now hate me… that nothing could ever be the same again as far as our friendship went… that I’d let him down so badly that the damage had to be irreversible… (as a child, I was always in trouble.  I could never keep mother happy no matter how hard I tried.  I was always failing in keeping her happy… so today, I still cause myself to relive that whole awful childhood-scenario, every time I think I’ve upset someone close to me, whose friendship I value greatly). 

What I failed to grasp 'in the moment', was that a true friendship can never crumble so easily.  I had to bring myself back to that place of believing in the friendship I have with this person.  Believing in the goodness of who he is.  It was not about him... it was about me and my lost sense of self-worth... all triggered by someone else not being kind enough to respect my boundaries.  If I continued to believe what my mind was imposing so powerfully back onto me from my past, I could actually end up pushing this dear friend away forever.  I was in a state of believing I am too unworthy to be his friend. 

WOW!  When a person really faces and reflects on their more negative and self-destructive behaviours and moods, and tries to make sense of them as I am doing here, we begin to see things in far greater and more healing perspective, so that we can then begin to make deliberate choices and change for the better... for personal healing and for the sake of others and our relationship with them.
 
But, at the time, once again, I was in “that horrible self-destructive place”, of not belonging… not being worthy… nobody loves me, everybody hates me… EATING WORMS!!!  Feeling as though my sell-by date had finally come… I’d reached the END of my possibilities… I’d come as far as I could come… my book writing dreams are just a fanciful joke I’ve been playing on myself for years…
 
The depression became so intense… that I wanted OUT… and again, I KNOW that I won’t do it… but when you’re in that place of, “What’s the use of living anymore?”, that everything you touch, you end up destroying… that this virus has changed everything anyway… nothing could ever be the same again! Is there worse to come? So much fear for my family and friends… so many “What if’s?” that cannot be shut up!  All resulting in a sense that there is no more future for me to hope in…
 
Intensity
© All rights reserved ~ www.pattyskeys.co.za
 
The intensity is more than I can bear!
Burning acid on every rip and tear!
Bubble, bubble toil and trouble!
So much chaos, so much muddle!
I cannot bear it anymore...
But I'm not ready for Heaven's Door!
Help me!  Help me!
Please make me brave!
Save me! Save me! 
Please help me...
Save...
 
~ Panayiota Ryall
(07 October 2014 – Written in the middle of a sleepless dark night somewhere)
 
There are only four ways that I know of to relieve this kind of deep frustration-intensity… the “intensely angry depression” that belongs to Patricia… the kind that refuses to cry for relief!  The kind that causes me to work myself to a standstill as has been happening lately… housework… cleaning drawers… tidying cupboards… etc. almost as if I am actually preparing my home for those who would have to deal with it if I die!  Good grief!

1. Suicide
2. Self-injury
3. Addiction – food – drugs – alcohol – etc.
4. Finding a more harmless and pleasant way to relieve the intrusive feelings that come with being in Patricia’s personality-state, taking me back to the effects of my childhood rapes.  (but this way always brings intense guilt with it also, so that’s not an option if it can be avoided in preventing the other three options).

 
I have chosen not to do any of the above… but bearing the intensity is literally torture when it happens for days on end as it has this time around.  Today I feel as though there’s not enough oxygen in the air… and I realise I’m just not breathing properly again.  I have to remind myself to breathe in and out more deeply… more consciously!
 
But, as always, just when I think that it’s over, Life starts to send signs of hope again… signs of needing me here still… WHY?  WHAT FOR?  But even if I don’t have the answers to WILL myself to live, I have to believe that it must mean something important and that I can NOT and  must NOT let go yet.  That even if I don’t benefit anymore from being here… even if I destroy my own reputation and all that I’ve gained so far to get to where I am today… even then, my ongoing presence might still be of benefit to someone else out there… I have to believe that someone, somewhere still needs me to be here… I have not finished here yet… there is still some important work to be done that only I can do…
 
“A man who becomes conscious of the responsibility he bears toward a human being who affectionately waits for him, or to an unfinished work, will never be able to throw away his life.  He knows the “why” for his existence, and will be able to bear almost any “how”” (Frankl, 2008, pp. 87-88) ~ Man's Search for Meaning
 
“One should not search for an abstract meaning of life.  Everyone has his own specific vocation or mission in life to carry out a concrete assignment which demands fulfillment.  Therein he cannot be replaced, nor can his life be repeated.  Thus, everyone’s task is as unique as is his specific opportunity to implement it.” (Frankl, 2008, p.113) ~ Man’s Search for Meaning
 
Giving me a sense of responsibility to stay
My daughter popped past on Friday, just to let me know she loves me and is thinking of me.
 
Today a friend dropped off a bag of lemons and a lovely note at my gate just to show she was also thinking of me.  Then later, she sent the following message, which I felt fitted so well with what I’ve been experiencing, even though she has no clue about it.

​This always seems to happen and therefore, I can’t deny that I am being watched over and my life must have a purpose.

This song once again has been singing in my head… it brings so much comfort to me, I will just have to share it once again: LET THE LOWER LIGHTS BE BURNING
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tnFC64SnkhY
 
The day after the online meeting, I spoke to my mentor, Teria about turning my video off and hiding my face at a online meeting I attended the night before… I did not even tell her why or who upset me, yet her response was so unbelievably beautiful, that I actually don’t think it’s something I can share, because her words are so sacred to my heart.  I read it to my daughter and she agreed that it was truly beautiful.
 
Then today I had reason to mention to Teria that I’d not been in a good place this week, and she responded:
 
“So great, dearest Pan.  And, how I understand your initial reaction (to what she said about suicide in another podcast she’d just made)!  You were there yourself.  Remember that piece you wrote and that I printed in my book, of wishing to escape to heaven?  But the world wants you here.  And that is what keeps you here.  I need you here.  And sorry, but I will not let you fly off to heaven!  Look how that one student reacted that, having contact with you as a person, changed the whole ball game!  This is your forte.  And that is why you are totally in charge in that kind of chat group!”
 
When someone believes in us as much as my mentor believes in me… how could we give up?  It’s impossible!
 
Once again, this beautiful Logotherapy quote comes to mind:
 
“Something meaningful draws us out of ourselves – it enlarges our vision, enriches us and causes us to grow: to become bigger and better than we are.  Frankl quoted Goethe as saying: “If we take a man as he is, we make him worse; if we take him as he ought to be, we help him become it” (Shantall, 2002, p. 19) ~ Life’s Meaning in the Face of Suffering

(Teria’s Shantall’s book ~ The Life-Changing Impact of Viktor Frankl’s Logotherapy – Published by Springer.  Not yet available in South Africa, but Teria is hoping it will be soon and also to be published as an e-book)
 
THE RACE
 
“Quit!” “Give up, you’re beaten!” they shout at me and plead.
“There’s just too much against you now, this time you can’t succeed.”
And as I started to hang my head in front of failure’s face,
My downward fall is broken by the memory of a race.
And hope refills my weakened will as I recall that scene,
For just the thought of that short race rejuvenates my being.
A children’s race, young boys young men; now I remember well.
Excitement, sure, but also fear; It wasn’t hard to tell.
They all lined up so full of hope.  Each thought to win that race
Or tie for first, or if not that, at least take second place.
And fathers watched from off the side, each cheering for his son,
And each boy hoped to show his dad that he would be the one.
The whistle blew and off they sped, as if they were on fire
To win, to be the hero there, was each young boy’s desire.
And one boy in particular, his dad was in the crowd,
Was running near the lead and thought, “My dad will be so proud.”
But as he speeded down the field across a shallow dip,
The little boy who thought to win, lost his step and slipped.
Trying hard to catch himself, his hands flew out to brace,
And mid the laughter of the crowd he fell flat on his face.
So, down he fell and with him hope.  He couldn’t win it now,
Embarrassed, sad, he only wished to disappear somehow.
But, as he fell his dad stood up and showed his anxious face
Which to the boy so clearly said, “Get up and win the race!”
He quickly rose, no damage done, behind a bit that’s all.
And ran with all his mind and might to make up for his fall.
So anxious to restore himself, to catch up and to win,
His mind went faster than his legs.  He slipped and fell again.
He wished that he had quit before with only one disgrace.
“I’m hopeless as a runner now, I shouldn’t try to race.”
But, in the laughing crowd he searched and found his father’s face;
That steady look that said again, “Get up and win the race.”
So, he jumped up to try again.  Ten yards behind the last,
“If I’m to gain those yards,” he thought, “I’ve got to run real fast.”
Exceeding everything he had, he regained eight or ten
But trying so hard to catch the lead, he slipped and fell again.
Defeat!  He lay there silently, a tear dropped from his eye.
“There’s no sense running anymore.  Three strikes, I’m out…why try?
The will to rise had disappeared, all hope had fled away.
So far behind, so error prone, closer all the way.
“I’ve lost so what’s the use?” he thought, “I’ll live with my disgrace,”
But then he thought about his dad, who soon he’d have to face.
“Get up,” an echo sounded low.  “Get up and take your place.
You weren’t meant for failure here, get up and win the race.”
With borrowed will, “Get up,” It said.  “You haven’t lost at all,
For winning is no more than this … to rise each time you fall.”
So up he rose to win once more.  And with a new commit,
He resolved that win or lose, at least he wouldn’t quit.
So far behind the others now, the most he’d ever been.
Still he gave it all he had and ran as though to win.
Three times he’d fallen stumbling, three times he rose again.
Too far behind to hope to win, he still ran to the end.
They cheered the winning runner as he crossed the line, first place.
Head high and proud and happy: no falling, no disgrace.
But, when the fallen crossed the finish line, last place
The crowd gave him the greater cheer for finishing the race.
And even though he came in last, with head bowed low, unproud;
You would have thought he won the race, to listen to the crowd.
An to his dad he sadly said, “I didn’t do so well.”
“To me you won,” his father said, “you rose each time you fell.”
And now when things seem dark and hard and difficult to face,
The memory of that little boy helps me in my race.
For all of life is like that race, with ups and downs and all,
And all you have to do to win is rise each time you fall.
“Quit!” “Give up, you’re beaten!” They still shout in my face.
But, another voice within me says, “Get up and win that race.”
 
By Dee Groberg
 
Thank you so much for sharing with me today.  I feel a whole lot better for having unloaded!  Writing and putting everything into perspective is so healing for me.
 
4 steps to deal with anxiety, tragedy, or heartache
By Eric Barker       Jul 7, 2017
https://www.theladders.com/p/22799/anxiety-tragedy-heartache-writing
 
~ Panayiota
www.vfisa.co.za