by Nancy Evans
Image credit: Nancy Evans
It’s been months since I volunteered to write this blog, each week since then I’ve thought about making a start… But still no beginning. It’s been weighing on my mind. Out of the three facilitators of our CI Focus group, Vera Vanschoor, Monika Bolcskei and myself, I am the one for whom English is a first language. I even enjoy writing, a fact I shared with my colleagues, yet still no beginning. Something in me keeps putting it to one side and finding other things I need to do. As I type this I feel the familiar grip of shame tighten the muscles around my throat and my eyes begin to well with tears. This might sound familiar to you, if not, welcome to the world of an adult with a scattered mind. On a positive note I painted my office (including the woodwork) and here I am writing. I’ll take that as a win, but first I need to take a moment to feel what is happening in my body as I reflect.
I place my right hand on my chest and close my eyes, they fill up with fresh tears. I feel my heart and chest area constrict and tighten and there’s a familiar rush of sadness. In my mind’s eye I see a reel of film images from my childhood and school years, then college and adulthood flash through my mind. All the times I’ve struggled with meeting deadlines, have fallen behind, failed the exam, quit the degree, wasn’t able to finish the course and felt shame at my perceived failures. I believed I wasn’t bright enough, hadn’t achieved enough, wasn’t strong enough, or good enough. Just not enough. Or I was too much; too sensitive, too emotional, too needy, too quiet, too loud, the list goes on. This isn’t just my story, I speak for many of us who have a scattered mind as their adaptation. We’re not just scattered, we’re sensitive, we feel deeply and the emotional response to life’s struggles is intense.
Before I continue writing, I take a moment to offer myself compassion. I place my hand back over my heart and close my eyes again. I feel myself gently rocking from side to side, more tears come. I place one hand over the other, thumb gently caressing my other hand, I hear ‘Sssshhhh sssshhhh’ in my mind. I’m soothing a much younger part of myself now, my youngest inner child. I’ve met her before in CI sessions, she’s about two years old and frozen with fear. I hold her and soothe her. Infants need an attuned, well-regulated caregiver to soothe and coregulate with. When that kind of attunement isn’t available, there is nothing they can do in a stressful environment except scatter their attention. They can’t fight or can’t flee, but they can freeze and tune out the stress. It was such a wise strategy once upon a time.
After trying a different format for the first three meetings of our focus group, it became obvious that the most important element of our meetings was the feeling of community. We were together with other people who’d had the same experiences in life and we were talking openly and vulnerably. We were creating a group space where each of us could be seen, heard and held by one another, it was so simple. For many of us this was the first time we’d heard other people say “Yes, me too.” How powerful that was to hear. During a recent focus group session one member shared “When the shame floods me, it’s what makes my mind go blank and dissociate. The more I work with that, the more I feel love and acceptance of myself as I am. I will stay a little more with that shame.”
In our discussions over the months, many of us have shared our experiences of tuning out or dissociating, our poor impulse control and emotional dysregulation. We’ve talked about our coping mechanisms, our addictions, or the tuning out of emotion by tuning in to information. Other coping strategies varied from taking control and leading, perfectionism to procrastination and avoidance, over-working and compulsive cleaning, to hoarding. In childhood the tuning out was protective, in adulthood it became a problem. Having a safe place to share our experiences has been profound, one group member shared, “It is such a pleasure to find identification in others’ experiences. Yesterday I was made aware again of how wonderful it can be to feel, to love, and to have an open heart”.
What we all really want is to love and be loved, to be seen, heard and understood. Vera, Monika and myself are honored to facilitate a space, with other beautiful souls, where we can give some of this to one another. In doing so, we learn how to do this for ourselves too.