Bert had only been “a god” for a little over a week. Jedrek had come in to tell him he was promoted and that he should get “a plan” going. Bert sat there, trying to think what “a plan” actually meant. A plan for what? Creation? Population? Jedrek was quite respected, but Bert was scared to ask questions. Jedrek was his supervisor, but what Bert understood that to be, and what Jedrek was doing were two different things. It made Bert feel like he was not supposed to be promoted. Was he supposed to have learned how to read minds?
He stared blankly at what he felt was most like a window, except that it was not a window, it’s just that Bert wanted to be that way. His whole living quarters, if you could call it that seemed to adapt and read his mind. Sometimes it was bigger like a mansion, and other times smaller like a cottage. One time he had awoke after an “odd” dream in the playboy mansion. He scrambled to collect and hopefully control his thoughts, but try as he might, his house became more and more “embarrassing”. Jedrek showed up, a single eyebrow raised. In exasperation Bert exclaimed that this was NOT what he wanted. Jedrek had a very specific look on, at least to Bert. It said, “Sure Bert, they all say this is NOT what they want”. Jedrek looked around thoughtfully, and the house changed to something Bert was not so embarrassed about. The only advice he was left with? “Slow is fast and fast is slow Bert.”
Why everyone in the afterlife had to speak so cryptically didn’t make sense to Bert. It made him not want to ask questions at all, so when Jedrek had showed up smiling, and announcing he was being promoted to “God”, and to prepare a plan, Bert had embarrassingly asked the question “So just prepare a plan then?” Bert felt the flush of his embarrassment over the question wash all over him. Jedrek looked at him blankly for a second, as if to tell him “Of course Bert… That’s what I said”. But instead Jedrek just smiled and said “I’ll be back later to check in”.
“Create some cool stuff” Bert mumbled to himself. He was seriously thinking of writing that down.
“What’s cool…”
Bert was an accountant in his previous life. He never married, and didn’t really live outside of his comfort zone either.
“Non-carbon-producing-coal!”. The thought felt revolutionary, and at the same time he could see Jedrek give him the look. After a few hours he decided that’s all he had.
Jedrek showed up the following day to check in on him. By then Bert’s home had changed into a dusty old crypt. Complete with cobweb covered skeletons, and screams from a dungeon. Jedrek laughed so hard that he was in tears. That was until the walls started melting from Bert’s unconfident anger.
“Oh, sorry Bert, you know, everyone believes in you, and frankly the reason you are here is not to create a world, it’s to make a plan. Okay?”
Bert felt at the end of his rope. “I can’t even do that” he muttered…
“Bert, listen to me… I know you feel that way, and the first thing you need to understand is that even though on your world, the God was taught as being perfect, Gods are not perfect, so quit trying to make a perfect plan, because we all know, you won’t come up with everything.”
Bert was not ready to respond
“Listen, I get it” Jedrek continued, “You’ve always had rules to guide you, but there are none here. You make them up on your own. The only way anyone can learn is by making mistakes, and the quicker you become okay with living in the playboy house, and the quicker you can smile off your current reality, the quicker you’ll get it. Nobody judges here, you can even do nothing.”
Jedrek looked at him earnestly.
What Jedrek said made sense to Bert, and Bert knew that he was harder on himself that Jedrek was.
“I’ll keep trying” was all Bert could say.
“Good for you Bert” Jedrek smiled. I’ll be back in a week, and we’ll keep working through it. In the meantime, clean up a little okay?
Bert flushed. “Okay” he replied.
Jedrek disappeared leaving Bert alone with the stupid paper and the coal idea on it. He decided to leave it on. Running his hands through his hair, he casually wrote down his next idea. Money trees.
Bert smiled.
Monday, June 3, 2019
Tuesday, April 9, 2019
My emotion room
One of my favorite things about doing laundry is washing the bedsheets. Now, I admit, I don't actually have to wash the bedsheets myself, Virginie always does that. But we will often make the bed together, and I love pulling those fresh smelling clean sheets over me at the end of a day. Just blogging about it brings a smile to my face!
It's been a while since I've blogged, and for good reason. I felt that I had become very negative. I understood that there was emotionally a lot on my plate, and I accepted that reality, but I was also torn between trying to blog my reality and balance what I was feeling with respect for the message I was also sending out to my wonderful readers.
Let me explain something.
First of all let me define a "sensitive person" as a person who feels emotions quite a bit stronger than normal. If a sensitive child drops their ice cream, it's a BIG DEAL. BPD or Borderline Personality Disorder develops when someone who is very sensitive is in an invalidating environment. So for a sensitive child, growing up in an environment where they are constantly told "you're being to sensitive" could be enough for a child to develop BPD. While not an expert in this field, this is how I understand and would like to share the process. The sensitive person will learn to not trust themselves and their own emotions and as a result, will begin to turn to others to fulfill this empty sense of self. Chronic feelings of emptiness, depressions, emotional instability, and unstable relationships often having co-dependence issues will often follow.
Let me make it clear, BPD is not a life sentence. Not if the sufferer is willing to make changes. Fortunately for me, I was invited to participate in a program that has been teaching me tools for mindfulness, distress tolerance, interpersonal effectiveness, and emotional regulation. The course is thorough and has been helping in ways that frankly, I still find surprising.
For example, about an hour ago I woke up kicking the sheets in anger. I had had one of the most angry dreams I've had in a long time. I won't get into the details of the dream, but suffice it to say, Virginie woke me up in a bit of a panic and was listening to me explain what had happened. I was explaining, trying to be mindful of my experience when I noticed Virginie was falling back asleep.
Virginie has narcolepsy. She was diagnosed several years ago now, and it's something we've had to be very careful of. If she's driving, she must accept that if she starts getting tired, she needs to stop, ask me to switch, and sleep. The reality to be accepted is this, when narcolepsy knocks, she must listen.
For me, it can be a bit frustrating, but I'm learning to accept my reality. I mean, I could talk to a brick wall, and still get the benefits of being mindful. Virginie does not actually have to listen to me, and so there I was, explaining my dream to Virginie while she was twitching back asleep.
This is where my emotion room comes in. Using the tools and skills I've been learning, my emotion room has become my place to handle all of the very strong emotions I feel, in an attempt to regulate them with some order. For me it's usually an office. I have a few plants, a desk with a laptop and a few chairs around the room. There is a door on one end through while my emotions will often come bursting though (more on this), and on the opposite wall, another door labeled "escape" which is available if I need to get away from my emotions for a brief moment. The only problem with the escape door is there is no discerning between a healthy escape, and an unhealthy escape. Plus, my emotional mob is almost always there waiting for me when I get back.
Let me give an example. I'm reading an email, and someone says something which I interpret to be very unfair. In a split second this mob comes barging into my emotional room primarily led by Anger. They have pitch forks and torches, and everyone is talking all at once. For a BPD sufferer, it's very overwhelming.
Anger never waits for anyone else to speak. "HOW DARE THEY SAY THAT!" he will usually start off with. "YOU ARE THE VICTIM HERE!". I find anger and his mob often very validating. It's easy to listen to them and get angry myself, but it's my emotion room and I'm in control of who is there, and who has to leave. I've been noticing if I send an emotion packing out of my room, they will often return if I don't get their message. So, learning to identify who is in my mob, and what their message is has been an important part of my emotional education. So, I will try to listen to each one. First anger, then insecurity, then pride or willfulness, and several others. When I listen carefully, I often feel in a better place to make a decision about them. You see, each emotion could be useful. When my children are out late and have not told me where they are (this does not happen very often), anger is often a very useful emotion. Although usually the secondary emotion, he will often introduce me to someone else, like worry. Worry will introduce me to love. I will realize, I love this child so much, I am worried and don't want anything terrible to happen to them. So, rather than having anger exit the room, I might choose to have him sit in the corner. "Sit over there" I will demand. You see, it's my emotion room and I am in charge. This means, what I choose to do with my emotions, in my emotions room, is entirely up to me.
Love for me is this little girl about 3, who sucks her thumb. She does not speak much, but represents everything that love is to me. Unselfish, quiet, consistent, and wonderful! I can see myself, after sorting through my emotional mob, inviting love to stay. She will sit on my lap, and we will share a box of chocolates together.
It's been a while since I've blogged, and for good reason. I felt that I had become very negative. I understood that there was emotionally a lot on my plate, and I accepted that reality, but I was also torn between trying to blog my reality and balance what I was feeling with respect for the message I was also sending out to my wonderful readers.
Let me explain something.
First of all let me define a "sensitive person" as a person who feels emotions quite a bit stronger than normal. If a sensitive child drops their ice cream, it's a BIG DEAL. BPD or Borderline Personality Disorder develops when someone who is very sensitive is in an invalidating environment. So for a sensitive child, growing up in an environment where they are constantly told "you're being to sensitive" could be enough for a child to develop BPD. While not an expert in this field, this is how I understand and would like to share the process. The sensitive person will learn to not trust themselves and their own emotions and as a result, will begin to turn to others to fulfill this empty sense of self. Chronic feelings of emptiness, depressions, emotional instability, and unstable relationships often having co-dependence issues will often follow.
Let me make it clear, BPD is not a life sentence. Not if the sufferer is willing to make changes. Fortunately for me, I was invited to participate in a program that has been teaching me tools for mindfulness, distress tolerance, interpersonal effectiveness, and emotional regulation. The course is thorough and has been helping in ways that frankly, I still find surprising.
For example, about an hour ago I woke up kicking the sheets in anger. I had had one of the most angry dreams I've had in a long time. I won't get into the details of the dream, but suffice it to say, Virginie woke me up in a bit of a panic and was listening to me explain what had happened. I was explaining, trying to be mindful of my experience when I noticed Virginie was falling back asleep.
Virginie has narcolepsy. She was diagnosed several years ago now, and it's something we've had to be very careful of. If she's driving, she must accept that if she starts getting tired, she needs to stop, ask me to switch, and sleep. The reality to be accepted is this, when narcolepsy knocks, she must listen.
For me, it can be a bit frustrating, but I'm learning to accept my reality. I mean, I could talk to a brick wall, and still get the benefits of being mindful. Virginie does not actually have to listen to me, and so there I was, explaining my dream to Virginie while she was twitching back asleep.
This is where my emotion room comes in. Using the tools and skills I've been learning, my emotion room has become my place to handle all of the very strong emotions I feel, in an attempt to regulate them with some order. For me it's usually an office. I have a few plants, a desk with a laptop and a few chairs around the room. There is a door on one end through while my emotions will often come bursting though (more on this), and on the opposite wall, another door labeled "escape" which is available if I need to get away from my emotions for a brief moment. The only problem with the escape door is there is no discerning between a healthy escape, and an unhealthy escape. Plus, my emotional mob is almost always there waiting for me when I get back.
Let me give an example. I'm reading an email, and someone says something which I interpret to be very unfair. In a split second this mob comes barging into my emotional room primarily led by Anger. They have pitch forks and torches, and everyone is talking all at once. For a BPD sufferer, it's very overwhelming.
Anger never waits for anyone else to speak. "HOW DARE THEY SAY THAT!" he will usually start off with. "YOU ARE THE VICTIM HERE!". I find anger and his mob often very validating. It's easy to listen to them and get angry myself, but it's my emotion room and I'm in control of who is there, and who has to leave. I've been noticing if I send an emotion packing out of my room, they will often return if I don't get their message. So, learning to identify who is in my mob, and what their message is has been an important part of my emotional education. So, I will try to listen to each one. First anger, then insecurity, then pride or willfulness, and several others. When I listen carefully, I often feel in a better place to make a decision about them. You see, each emotion could be useful. When my children are out late and have not told me where they are (this does not happen very often), anger is often a very useful emotion. Although usually the secondary emotion, he will often introduce me to someone else, like worry. Worry will introduce me to love. I will realize, I love this child so much, I am worried and don't want anything terrible to happen to them. So, rather than having anger exit the room, I might choose to have him sit in the corner. "Sit over there" I will demand. You see, it's my emotion room and I am in charge. This means, what I choose to do with my emotions, in my emotions room, is entirely up to me.
Love for me is this little girl about 3, who sucks her thumb. She does not speak much, but represents everything that love is to me. Unselfish, quiet, consistent, and wonderful! I can see myself, after sorting through my emotional mob, inviting love to stay. She will sit on my lap, and we will share a box of chocolates together.
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