For most of my life, if someone asked how I was, I automatically responded, “Fine.” I didn’t trust that anyone wanted to hear about dealing with lifelong depression or a chronic blood cancer that periodically caused me to be out of remission. This left me feeling lonely, but I remembered my father’s words from the time I was old enough to understand them, “You’re strong, you can manage.” In my family, talking about feelings was taboo. The few times I tried I was told: It’s all in your imagination.” I coped by doing what I could to take care of myself. I disassociated—body from mind. I lived like a horse with blinders, paying attention to what was directly in front of me. Managing.
Coping mechanisms often have a shelf life. What saves us at one time can cripple us as we change and grow. Recognizing this is difficult. Changing is harder. After I turned 80, and did a vision quest, I realized I wanted to talk about my life honestly, depending on who asked. I didn’t want judgment, unasked for advice, defensiveness, or the person to “fix” my problem so they could feel better.
It took a while to learn how to talk about my inner life. I discovered the analogy of the weather report—this is what’s happening at the moment. I developed friendships with people who wanted to know. They listened patiently as I described what I was feeling as best I could. They didn’t try to “fix” me.
I do the same. In a conversation, I listen. I ask if they want to know what I’m thinking or feeling about their situation. I let them know I care, that I want to know what their life is like. As a result, I no longer feel emotionally isolated. Friendships have deepened. I feel known. I know I’m making progress being more honest with my thoughts and feelings when a friend said recently, “I love you even when you make mistakes.” Imagine that!
Life tales from a woman different living in The City Different.