Reflections and Nightmares- Irene A Waters (writer and memoirist)

You are welcome but I advise you move on and have coffee elsewhere. I fear if you come in I will do nothing but vent and rant and rave and subject you to what I know is my irrational behaviour.

Okay – you’ve chosen to come in. What beverage would you like? I’ve got everything as I prepared for our guests who were due to arrive during the week but due to flooding and bad weather delayed their arrival until Tuesday of the coming week.

If we were having coffee I’d tell you that I’m in child today. I have found that I am increasingly working in child. Up until a few months ago I would have said that my child didn’t get much of a look in and that I lived in adult most of the time. Not critical parent or nurturing parent but adult. In fact I would have said I was a well rounded individual. I know that started to collapse whilst I was doing my Masters. I beat up on myself and my ability. I compared myself to others who happily conversed at a level that was beyond my understanding. Always out of place in a crowd I now shrunk and became aware of just how introverted I am, but it is more than introversion.

World Affairs are getting me down. I feel I’m getting PTSD from listening to the news. If I opt out and avoid what is happening I feel as though I’m letting myself and others down by not knowing what is going on.

When I took the Homes and Rahe Stress Scale I came up at 377 – a level that tells me that I have a high to very high risk of becoming ill in the near future. Well perhaps that time has come and it is my mental health that is affected. Things that my adult tells me are stupid and not worth worrying about, my child decides otherwise. Like today a comment on facebook (I rarely look at facebook and know it should be taken with a grain of salt) made me feel devalued as a person and as a friend. It made me understand a phenomen suffered by teenagers when bullied, unfriended, ignored leading to depression and at its worst suicide. It made me feel like I felt in kindergarten when I wasn’t invited to a birthday party and the rest of the class was. It reduced me to tears. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! But it was how I felt. Rejected. Hurt. Holding back the tears so Roger wouldn’t see them made my head feel as though it had a tight band around my eyes (on the inside). My jaw hurt from being clenched to hold back the torrent. “You are being stupid” my adult tells me, “I told you you were worthless” my critical parent interjects “I’ll go and tell them to be nice to you” says my nurturing parent but my child rejects them all and not so quietly sobs, desolated and alone in the corner.

One of the problems is that now as an adult over sixty I can no longer cope the way I managed as a child. I can no longer rebel and and make life merry hell for everyone, proving they were right all along. As an adult that kind of behaviour is not tolerated. People label you as too hard, too sensitive, a negative person, a person that drags them down, a person to be avoided. I’ve rationalised people’s behaviours to the extent that perhaps I have kept so much hurt inside despite understanding why and now that hurt is finding the cracks. My adult tells me “Think before you post. you are only going to look like a child”, my critical parent says “you’ve got spelling and grammatical errors”, whilst my nurturing parent says “please don’t post this. I want to save you from being hurt.” My child is rebelling. I’m posting against all advice “I don’t care. I’m posting anyway.”

If we were having coffee I’d thank you for listening, ask your forgiveness and suggest you leave and go visit someone else a little brighter. I just want to wallow in my misery and can’t concentrate on anything else right at the moment.

I hope your week and your spirits have been brighter than mine and your coming week is fantastic. thank you to Nerd in the Brain for hosting our weekend coffee. Other places to drop in for coffee can be found here. If you’re brave enough drop back next week. I’ll be over it by then.