A lot has happened

Sam and I celebrated our 6th wedding anniversary yesterday. We thought that maybe we'd go up to Santa Barbara and spend an idyllic weekend on the beach. But an awful storm is coming in off the coast and we could have treacherous driving weather on the way home. So we stayed at home and slept in our own comfortable bed before going down to Palm Springs to roam around. This morning over breakfast we commented once again that we are shocked that it has already been six years, yet on the other hand we feel that we have been together forever, since we feel so comfortable together.
So today I thought I'd share some wedding photos with you so you can see how we started out. We got married during spring break of 2003 at Prospect Park in Redlands, California. There were only 10 of us present and that was just about right as far as I was concerned. I've always disliked the hoo-haw that goes on at weddings around candles, preludes and everyone wondering if the soprano can sing the high A at the end of "The Lord's Prayer," parading about with unnatural clothes on, and those ever-present cameras. Therefore, we just wore church clothes and stood on the side of a hill overlooking an orange grove in bloom that smelled wonderfully fragrant. Unfortunately, it smogged up for the occasion. The previous day we could see probably 50 miles clearly from that hill.
We were married by Will Alexander, whom I knew for over 20 years and who had just celebrated his 61st wedding anniversary the day before. There I stood, 10 weeks after major surgery, still puffy and very pale. My friend Bill, whose sense of propriety would not allow him to see me married without flowers, bought my bouquet and Sam's boutinierre. Sam told my mother that he was wearing a seersucker suit--for what reason, I don't know. It was a lightweight four season wool navy suit. I think he heard "seersucker" and assumed it referred to the cut of the suit, not realizing that mother conjured up images of him in a blue and white striped barbershop quartet outfit.
In the picture above you can see Sam's expression when Will sprung it on us that we'd be making up our own vows on the spot and that we'd start with Sam. I was quite obviously delighted at his discomfort.



Sam didn't even hesitate. He reflected most eloquently on the first time he saw me. He always comes through when it is time to make statements. He said that I was covered in light (I was actually standing under a ceiling light in the Indianapolis airport) and said something wonderful about how he would always see me full of light and love. I was so awestruck that he could have recited the Dow Jones averages and I wouldn't have caught on.
Now it was my turn.
Gulp...

My comments to Sam were comprised of unadulterated gibberish. I have no recollection whatever of what I said, and neither does he. I only saw his eyes and knew that I would forever be connected to this man. I kept thinking, Pay attention! You've waited years for this moment. Don't miss anything! I could hardly believe what I was doing after being single for 44 years, and I had real trouble staying present. I think I was subconsciously highly anxious, even though I didn't feel shaky or nervous and there were no burning questions in my (conscious) mind that I was doing the right thing.
It is interesting however, that I had awakened two mornings earlier at 3:30 a.m. in a panic. I woke him up immediately for the following exchange:

Sam!
What's wrong?
I can't marry you.
What?
We're too different.
What???
You don't like to talk and I'll live my life with someone who won't talk with me. I'm a therapist--I have to be able to talk.
Are you sure we need to talk about this now?
See?
Honey, what do you want to do?
I love you, but part of me wants to go right back to California.
Well, we can go back to California (A stifled guffaw from his direction).....Honey, we're in California now.
I wasn't amused and still felt panicky.
Sounding very sleepy, Sam said, We don't have to get married now. Do you want to wait?
Now he had my number. No. It's okay. But promise me that you'll always talk to me.
Okay. We can finish the conversation in the morning.
Are you sure? Do you understand what this means to me?
Yes.
Okay.
Okay?
Yeah. I love you.
Love you, too.

So when I sang to him at our wedding, I was more anxious, happy, startled, and fervent than I had ever been in my life:

I will give my love an apple without any core;
I will give my love a house without any door;
I will give my love a palace wherein he may be;
And he may unlock it without any key.

My head is the apple without any core;
My mind is the house without any door;
My heart is the palace wherein he may be;
And he may unlock it without any key.
(Traditional English Folk Song)

And that's what happened six years ago. We were surprised and delighted that the park gardener happened to be a former photographer for Olan Mills. He took this last photo for us, standing in front of one of the two Sequoia trees in the park. And so all 10 of us posed before we went to an Italian restaurant for our reception that Shelly generously organized and treated us to.
All I remember from the meal was the sparkling apple cider and the raspberry chocolate ganache cake for desert (no tasteless white cake for me!) And off we went into what is now six years.

We can hardly believe all the good things that this marriage has brought to us. Sometimes I almost want to pinch myself to see if it's me in this place. I would say that we are overwhelmingly happy together, even though there have been ups and downs, and for me, a rather long period of adjustment. But I think I'm settling into this thing finally. And I truly love Sam. We are ever so grateful that we have one another and have been so blessed.

It was a very, very happy day--six years ago, and yesterday too.

Attachment--Part IV

So here is something else interesting about our attachment styles: the way we grieve our losses depends in large part on the way we are attached. People with a secure attachment style feel sad, empty, desperately sad. And they are able to move on relatively soon.

For example, it is a sad thing to lose a relationship for anyone. But people with an anxious attachment style pine, agonize, and obsess about the loss for months or years. It doesn't feel possible to move on because their loss triggers that original relationship disruption that feels as if it will kill their souls. It is difficult to redirect such grieving people, as they become fixated on their loss and will tell it to anyone who will listen--for years afterward. It mirrors the primal sense of loss they may have experienced even at a preverbal stage.

People with avoidant attachment styles are those who are prone to shake themselves off and act as though the whole thing is an inconvenience--nothing more. They are so defended (guarded) against feeling vulnerability or pain that they will put up a wall and move ahead quickly to something else. People like this can either become loners--it's easier to be without someone to be attached to--or can move into high risk behaviors such as addictions, crime, or promiscuity (love 'em and leave 'em--except it isn't love, it's the Clint Eastwood or 007 type use of women).

People with secure attachment styles grieve--yes they do. But it is a "cleaner" grief--not tangled up with the original attachment issues. And they are able to achieve appropriate closure and move on in a reasonable time, and move on usually to another satisfying relationship in an appropriate amount of time.

Another interesting layer over the grief and attachment matrix is that of individual temperament. Feeling dominant people are able to identify more of their experience, and while this gives them a sense of control, it doesn't tell them how to move on or to obtain closure. They really waffle for awhile trying to do something other than ride the waves of their feelings. Consider this awful combination: an anxiously attached, feeling dominant individual in mid-life crisis. Oh dear...
Concrete thinkers can't figure out why they feel so lousy during grief and therefore don't feel that their grief is altogether valid. Grief for them is somewhat like running your tongue over the hole where a tooth used to be that was just extracted. They want to be told what steps to take to do grief "right," since they approach life in the most efficient and correct way possible. An avoidant thinking-dominant, concrete thinker would be a real therapy challenge.

The action-oriented individual wants to go out and hike the Appalachian trail or take up sky diving. If they can offset their sadness with strenuous activity or the adrenaline rush of a high risk hobby, they will do it. The sadness will remain with them for awhile, but they will forget how painful it is since they are consumed with thrill-seeking. Let's hope this individual is securely attached. However, many are not. An avoidant, action-oriented person will, with a determined glint in the eye, decide to do an extreme sport or some kind of criminal activity that calls for a "no-heart" attitude. The anxiously attached person in this category will be weepy but will still stay involved in high risk behavior, the proverbial guy in a bar, crying into his beer after everyone has stopped playing pool, etc.

The thought-dominant, abstract thinking individual presents problems that many people don't know how to address. Caught up in her obsessive thoughts, she feels blindsided by the flood of feelings--all of which feel irrational and make that individual feel quite out of control. Many such people are fearful of feelings because they can't connect the feeling in the moment to what is happening. Therefore, many of these individuals don't think that either their response is abnormal and chastise themselves, or they begin reading so they can mechanically confront their experience from a logical, rational, cognitive manner. This is not the person who will allow himself to cry unless it makes sense where the sadness is coming from at that moment, and whether he thinks it will do any good in the long run for him to be crying. Because feelings are such a problem to thought-dominant, abstract thinking people, they can feel crazy in grief whether their attachment style is secure or anxious. They actually feel better if they are avoidant, but over the long haul they struggle to reconcile what has happened to them experientially with their cognitive perspective of the grief event.

Well, there you have it.
In the words of Forest Gump, "That's all I have to say about that."

Attachment--Part III

We become attached to God in ways sometimes similar to the way we attach to human beings. Some interesting research exists about God attachment. Kirkpatrick and Shaver (1992) took 213 individuals, mean age of 40, and administered the Attachment Inventory, a standardized instrument, to see what their style of attachment was. Then they asked them questions that would get at their attachment attitudes and styles toward God. They found that individuals who have a secure attachment style viewed God as less punitive, more loving, less distant, and were the most committed to their faith. People with more avoidant attachment styles were more likely to be agnostics, and those with anxious styles were more likely to be charismatic and speak in tongues.
People with a secure attachment considered the opposite of love to be hate. For people who are anxiously or avoidantly attached, the opposite of love is indifference, thus reflecting their deep desire to be attached.
Individuals with a poor attachment style with their mothers were significantly more distant and anxiously or avoidantly attached to God. Individuals who had a secure attachment to God, however, reported less anxiety, depression, physical illness and greater life satisfaction.
I have an article clipping that I cut out of a magazine years ago called "Prayer as a Rorschach." The Rorschach Inkblot test is one in which an individual is shown a blot of ink on a page and asked to describe what it is. The idea is that we project our own experience, ideas, and attitudes onto something ambiguous like an ill-defined blotch on a piece of paper. I was thinking about this article when I read about these attachment-to-God studies. We give away our attachment styles in our prayers. Have you ever stopped to listen to the language people use when they pray? Some beg God not to leave them, or to forgive them for unspeakable sins--there is fear of abandonment strung all through the prayer. Others speak to God as a revered Friend. Still others offer soul-less prayers that offer no hint of warmth or attachment. Have you listened to your own prayers? If you do, you will probably notice hints of your attachment style there.

Another study showed that a secure attachment to God (read, good theology here,) could sometimes compensate for poor attachments to humans for people with naturally insecure attachments. It reminds me of a client who once told me that her entire family climate changed once her father was converted to Christianity. He realized that his behavior was crude, mean, belittling to the others in his family, and that God did not approve of it. He amended his ways, even though he remained a crusty guy who did a lot of odd things to hide his feelings. And the family improved drastically. His marriage became better and his relationship with his young children was much warmer. He had become a more consistent and available attachment figure for them.

Does it happen this way all of the time? Does belief in a transcendent God fundamentally change who we are and how we relate? Unfortunately, not often. I'm not sure why. Some of us are left to battle with the templates we were given as children and cognitively realize that our subjective experience of God is colored by things that He did not do to us.

Perhaps more than anything, these posts on attachment styles remind me that we are each responsible for what we contribute to the attachment templates of the young ones in our lives: nephews, neices, grandchildren, our children and step-children. A beloved teacher who is consistent, warm, and loving to her students can be that one stable person in a child's life that can help them weather difficult family relationships. He or she can also be the person who becomes the model for secure attachment, whilst other, closer family relationships disintegrate. We do not fully appreciate the power of being present, constant, and warm to other people.

Attachment Part II

Because of the first studies on attachment by Bowlby, a scientist named Mary Ainsworth began studying how children responded when separated from their mothers. Children routinely cried, expressed concern, and were grateful to get back to their mothers--if they had secure attachment. She found that about 60% of children manifested secure attachment and 20% showed evidence of anxious and avoidant attachment styles respectively. Anxiously attached children continued to cry and behave as though their parent could be removed from them once again, even though there was no indication of this. Securely attached children cried or behaved in an annoyed manner, but quickly became responsive and confident in the presence of their parent. Avoidant children did not seem to be fazed by what had happened, and would continue to play with toys and ignore the mother, once returned to her.

The way we form attachments as little creatures often predicts the way we will attach ourselves to significant others. To review, the three basic types of attachment styles include:
1. Secure attachment. People with secure attachment styles felt love, confidence, and security in reference to their primary caregiver.
2. Anxious attachment. Those who develop an anxious attachment experience clinging behavior, intense monitoring of surroundings (for evidence of impending abandonment), are anxious and concerned about their relationship.
3. Avoidant attachment. Children with this attachment style appear to be unconcerned with abandonment or separation from their caregiver. They occupy themselves with something else and aren't bothered by being alone.

There are some interesting facts about the way these attachment styles influence our relationships and worldviews. In the 1980s, two researchers named Hazen and Shaver began examining how attachment styles impact romantic relationships in adulthood. In fact, their investigation showed that there was a high correlation between childhood and adult attachment styles. Those partners with a secure attachment felt confident that their partner would be available to them, loved them, and would "have their back" in any situation.
People with an insecure/anxious attachment style as children, later developed relationships in which, while they dearly loved their partner, worried that they would leave them, that they would not be responsive or interested in their concerns, and in which they felt insecure.

Avoidant individuals don't allow themselves to rely on others, do not allow anyone else in their hearts, and are less likely to maintain healthy, long-term relationships.

According to a group of researchers headed by Frazier (1997), we tend to select partners who confirm our experience with our original attachment figure. Securely attached individuals tend to turn to their partner for support and comfort when in pain, while avoidantly attached people withdraw or try to deal with issues on their own. Furthermore, they may appear to be defensive or cooly resistant to offered help. People from secure attachment backgrounds tend to be much more nurturing and supportive of their partners who turn to them for help. Anxiously attached individuals can easily make their partners feel suffocated because of their frequent attempts to ellicit care, affirmation, and loving responses from them.

Even though people with these three attachment styles present themselves differently, when asked to discuss how they would feel if they lost their partner, all had the same physiological responses. This means that their bodies indicated that there was equal distress across all three types of individuals. However, the avoidant individuals were able to suppress the expression of their feelings more effectively than the other two types and on the face of it, appeared not to be troubled by the thought of losing their partner.

Why think about attachment styles?
There are several reasons the topic is important. First, an understanding of attachment styles may shed light on how we each behave in our relationships. If you are clinging to your partner and have concerns about whether or not they love you (without sufficient evidence to support your fears), or if you wonder why you are restrained and invulnerable in your relationships, this may help to explain it. Second, not everything about us happens by our own will. We come into life and into relationships that are outside of our control. Thus, our template for behavior is cast at a young age and we are left to manage the outgrowth of it. Third, we each can do something about the kind of attachment style we have if it happens not to be a secure style. It takes time and is not simple, but it is not set in stone.
We in the United States love to state along with our country's mighty founders, that "all men are created equal." However, we are not all the same in what we bring to the table when it comes to relationships. At any given time, approximately 40% of partnered people are struggling with anxious or avoidant attachment issues.
The mantra of the ancient Greeks was, "Know Thyself." This slogan was emblazoned on the court of their temples. I don't think it is a bad slogan for us today. We all start at different places in life. Most people don't realize that there are these variations in people's tendencies, especially from very early years. They judge those who do not perform in relationships the way they think those people should. It is just not that simple.
It is not just our human relationships that are affected by our attachment style. I will talk more about this in Part III.

Attachment Part I

When babies are tiny, they rely on their parents for everything: physical needs, mental stimulation, emotional warmth, cleanliness, interactive modeling. Some babies have the luxury of having a consistent, attentive parent. These children are said to develop a secure attachment to their parents. They also are the most likely of any attachment type to have secure, long lasting relationships.

Sometimes a child's caretaker is "on" and sometimes they're "off" (absent somehow). So while the parent is present, the child's needs are met. The rest of the time they pine for their parent, wishful, tearful, and worried that they'll be abandoned and miss out on their parent's love forevermore. These children grow up to be people pleasers or clingy partners who frequently wonder whether or not they are truly loved or secure in the relationship.

Children whose parent doesn't seem to recognize their needs, or who doesn't give eye contact or attention, often form something called an avoidant attachment style. Perhaps the parent is an alcoholic or has a mental illness and can't give a child the attention she needs. But that little girl learns quickly that no matter what she does, she can't get her mother to connect to her. So she quits trying. The problem is that she assumes that she can't get anyone else's consistent attention either so she becomes a loner.

There are other reasons why children form certain attachment styles. A child can tend toward an anxious or avoidant attachment style if they have frequent hospitalizations that keeps them separated from their parent. This is through no fault of the parent--it is just how life happens. It can happen as a result of abuse, divorce, or other family disruption such as incarceration or service in the war. The child may have recalled happy, secure days. But the sudden change and emotional disorientation leads to an anxiety that is manifested in future relationships as fear that it will quickly change for the worst, too.

The kinds of attachments that we facilitate with our babies and young children become templates for how they relate to significant others as adults. It is a serious thing to have children and to raise them to set in place lifelong relational trends. God must really love parents and have mercy on those little ones who depend on them.

Who Are You?

We went to a potluck today after church. It was a very small group of people who sat around in the lower level of someone's home and chatted over plates heaped high with good food. A young couple sat near Sam and I, and we fell into conversation with them. She is a medical student and he is a grant writer for a large corporation. Sam, ever the chatty, friendly man, shared about his job as a patient representative at the medical center. Somewhere in the conversation he made reference to either speaking Spanish or having a disgruntled patient call him an epithet in Spanish. The girl laughed. Sam asked her about any Spanish connection she may have. In a few minutes, their voices were shrill with excitement as they recognized that their families go way back. The girl's mother and Sam used to live next door to each other in a duplex in East Los Angeles, 50 years ago. He knew her parents when they were dating in college. And then I used to live across the street from them. Her mother is a singer and so am I. There were many days when I could sit in my upstairs apartment over Mr. Cole's garages and hear Lina vocalize across the street in her duplex. As her voice would soar, I often listened to see how high she could go. Hearing her sing in church was a delight.
Now, here was her beautiful daughter. She has her mother's personality and her father's looks. She became an entirely different person, chattering away with Sam, so excited and referring to us as "family." Sam, on the other hand, couldn't wipe the grin off his face. He loves keeping up family and friend relationships.
But what was this? Her husband's uncles used to be students of my father in New York, years ago. After discovering this, it seemed as though we had stumbled upon our long lost family members. Being part of a close knit, small demonimation that is world wide means that anywhere I go, I will find someone that knows someone I know. It is truly a family that we belong to.

Say What?

Sedum, found here

I was grading papers over the weekend and came across some comments that brought forth a chuckle:

"Her asthma was exasperated by stress." [exacerbated]

"All my uncles had prostrate issues." Does this mean all the men in that family couldn't get off the floor?

And this on an instruction sheet written by a voice teacher who is trying to help me get better breath control when I sing: "Wrap something snug around your waste like an ace bandage or a sweater." Yick.

I just love it when people tangle up their words like this. It can be especially challenging when the wrong thing is said in a setting where you can't laugh.

The husband of one of my father's dying patients once tearfully confided in him, "I was the one who broke her hyphen sixty years ago" [hymen]. Daddy bit the inside of his mouth trying not to react to this remark.

One church service in my memory has taken on a life of its own. During the morning prayer my pastor decided to weave the title of his sermon into the prayer in a rather clever way. The title was, "The Plight of the Clay Pot" and was based on Romans 9:21. As everyone was carried along with the pastor's prayer, he uttered these enigmatic words:
"And Lord, as we consider the clight of the play plot...the plate of the clay clot...the plight of the ply plot...the clate of the pie plot...." I snuck a look at the other pastors. Two of them were covering their mouths and one was shaking with laughter. I shut my eyes as the pastor said with real emotion, "Oh Lord, you know our hearts..." and moved on in his prayer. There were a lot of twinkling eyes at the end of that prayer!

Another time, I excused myself from the church pew to make a quick bathroom stop before the service began. When I stepped back into the pew the organ was playing. Mother and my friend, Pam, however, had their heads in their hands and were laughing so hard they were wiping tears off their faces. I'm not sure how much they got out of the sermon because they were laughing off and on throughout the morning and it seemed that one didn't dare look at each other.

They later told me that as they had been waiting for the sermon to start, they commented on the hill ascending from the garden that could be seen directly through the floor to ceiling window behind the altar.
"What would you do if you could landscape that, Pam?" Mother asked.
Pam looked at the hill, devoid of much vegetation, and stated that she'd put spring flowers at the base of it and maybe a fountain somewhere nearby.
Reflecting momentarily on her love for seadum, Mother announced, "If it were up to me, I'd love to see an avalanche of semen out on that hill."
Pam sat immobile, staring at Mother in what she later called "therapist face" and nodded woodenly. "Really?"
My father suddenly took an interest in the conversation and turned in the pew to look at Mother. Was she all right?
As she heard her words ring in her mind, she suddenly realized what she said. "Did I say what I think I said?" she asked, horrified.
That was when the giggling started. We have never let her live that one down.

Once, Dr. Spooner, after whom the term "spoonerisms" was named, offered a salute to the Queen of England by saying, "Three cheers for our queer old dean!"
He later tried to comfort his students with patriotic rhetoric: "When our boys come home from France, we will have the hags flung out!"

A radio announcer who had recently visited the queen reported that he had been met "with a twenty-one son galoot." Indeed.

We humans need to express ourselves. Delightfully, some do it with real creativity!

For my friend

Today I heard from a friend who is struggling through her difficult battle with chemotherapy for cancer. It is a very difficult experience. Please keep her in your prayers.

When stormy winds against us break

Stablish and reinforce our will;

O hear us for Thine own name's sake,

Hold us in strength, and hold us still.

Still as the faithful mountains stand,

Through the long, silent years of stress;

So would we wait at Thy right hand

In quietness and steadfastness.

but not of us this strength, O Lord,

And not of us this constancy.

Our trust is Thine eternal Word,

Thy presence our security.

Amy Carmichael

Tips for Later Life

Being a therapist who often provides sex therapy, this story absolutely cracks me up. It just shows that it is good to check out what we see and hear. (My apologies to those readers who will find this to be a scandalous tale).

The husband leans over and asked his wife, "Do you remember the first time we had sex together over 50 yrs ago? We went behind this very tavern where you leaned against the back fence and I made love to you.

"Yes, she said, "I remember it very well."

"Ok," he said, "How about taking a stroll around there again and we can do it for old time's sake?"

"Oh Charlie, you old devil, that sounds like a crazy but good idea!"

A police officer sitting in the next booth heard their conversation and having a chuckle to himself, he thinks to himself, "I've got to see these two seniors having sex against a fence. I'll keep an eye on them so there's no trouble."

So he follows them.

The elderly couple walks haltingly along, leaning on each other for support aided by walking sticks. Finally, they get to the back of the tavern and make their way to the fence.The woman lifts her skirt and the man drops his trousers. As she leans against the fence, the old man moves in.Then suddenly they erupt into the most furious sex that the policeman has ever seen. This goes on for ten minutes while both are making loud noises and screaming. Finally, they collapse, panting, on the ground.The policeman is amazed. He thinks he has learned something about life and later years that he didn't know.

After about twenty minutes of lying on the ground recovering, the couple struggle to their feet and pull their clothes back around them properly. The policeman is still watching and think to himself, "This is truly amazing, I've got to ask them what their secret is."

So as the elderly couple walks by him, he says to them, "Forgive me for noticing, but I saw what happened over there against the fence, and that was something else. You must have had a fantastic sex life together. Is there some sort of secret to this?"

Shaking, the man is barely able to reply, "Fifty years ago that wasn't an electric fence!"

Confused Dreams

Found here

So I went to bed last night feeling quite tired. It has been an exhausting 10 days since I stopped in here. I was so tired that I couldn't make it back to the hospital to do my rounds and see my patients. Just completely wiped out. As I was leaving the hospital, I checked in to one department to introduce my intern to the staff and tell them what medical family therapists do and that we are available to them should they ever be interested. The woman in that office smiled a rather stiff smile and made a comment about me not stepping on the toes of social workers. Yes, of course, I reassured her. We stick pretty close to psychiatry, whose service we are part of. Something about the way she spoke to me and the look in her eyes made me wonder if she could be trusted. I've already been lambasted by social workers and a chaplain who did not appreciate the overlap in our various jobs and set out to defend their turf in a most unfriendly manner. So I've kept a very low profile and taught my students to do the same. We see the patients who we are assigned, and that is the size of it. There is plenty of work for us and I'm not looking for more.
So I came home, ate a light supper and climbed into bed. Very, very tired. My plan was to sleep early, then go in to the hospital first thing and make rounds--to see those three additional patients who really needed sessions. I know the units where I need to make myself scarce, and because I'm not one to make a row, I had a certain amount of dread to do my work. With a head full of thoughts, I drifted off to sleep.

Funny, what our minds do when we are anxious. Sometime this morning, I dreamed that I was on a blind date with one of the chaplains--someone I have no attraction to. We went to a dinner party and I was seated at a table with two other women and this man. Off to the side at another table (we were suddenly in a restaurant), a woman sat who had previously dated him. She stared daggers at me. It was really uncomfortable. Just when I thought it couldn't get worse, here came Sam. What in the world was I doing with this chaplain if I was married? But was I married to Sam in the dream? I couldn't tell. I did know that I was living with him but I wasn't married to him. Or was I? Why would I live with someone if I wasn't married to him? That was not something I would do. As Sam herded me off into the party, my date wandered out of the building and into the garden. He seemed utterly confused himself. He kind of wandered about, chatting aimlessly with people, looking forlorn and distraught. I guess I had really hurt his feelings. Or had I? He is a friend of Sam's, so he would have known that I was at least living with him. But was I?

Somewhere in that morass, I ran into his sons. They were pretty friendly to me and in fact, behaved as though I had some sort of relationship with their father. As I was talking to them, I could no longer see Sam and Sir Chaplain stepped up to my side. Leaning toward me, he whispered a most tender and riveting comment to me. I could feel a surge of warmth toward him when he made this remark and could smell his cologne and feel the warmth of his face on my cheek. Then he seemed to drift off again and here came Sam, jaunty, familiar, but somehow disconnected and out of place. I stood there then, completely confused.

Then I woke up. Disoriented, perplexed, bewildered, and with a sense of urgency to do something. That was 4:30 a.m. Sleep came and went until 6:00 when I finally dragged out of bed feeling disconcerted about all of this.

What did it mean? I didn't have time to think it through this morning, but the emotional impact of it kept me preoccupied most of the day. There was a really bad feeling that went along with it.

Interestingly enough, the dream was symbolic of my anxiety and feelings of not fitting in at the hospital--behaving somewhat surreptitiously, unable to read the meaning of people's actions, aware of hostility and resentment, but so off-balance that I don't know what to do about it. I am intimidated by the treatment of a few aggressive individuals, and instead of focusing on the appreciation that is expressed to me about my team's work, I have allowed the words and actions of others to cow me into a corner.

My work is good, and valuable to the psychiatrists we work for, and for the patients and their families. We do good work. Ours is a good service and we have a legitimate place at the table, so to speak. We come highly recommended to patients. And I am shaking in my boots to go over there and have to run into a few people who have been less than welcoming.

I've noticed this about myself in the past. The first class of students to whom I taught Group Therapy was composed of clinical psychology students. They laid into me for everything I did: they disliked the experiential component of the class. They didn't like my choice of words. They didn't appreciate the way I graded their papers and they didn't like my lectures. They told me that I didn't understand their patients and I didn't know what I was doing. I was flabbergasted, because for the last four years I had been teaching Group Therapy class to students at the University of Minnesota and had received excellent evaluations. Was it that these psychology students didn't like MFTs? Yes. But it was more than that. There was something condescending and accusatory about them all at the same time. No matter what I did I wouldn't be accepted by them. By the end of the quarter they all hated me. It was devastating.
Fast forward a year. I did a Gestalt therapy training in Prague for 9 days. Most of the people in the training group were clinical psychologists. Although none of them treated me the way these students had, I was almost completely immobilized and could hardly function. I cried in my room, avoided being called on in the group, and in a word, was miserable the entire 9 days.

I think the world is full of people who are cranky, who act superior, and who posture for power. To my credit, I have carried on in each of these situations as though nothing was wrong and with the dignity and self regard that was required in each setting. But it ate me up on the inside. If someone intimates that I don't belong or am inferior in some way, and if they have social power, I am deeply wounded and shut down. Even though I do good work and am a nice, collaborative person who is eager to learn from other people. Even though I treat others in these situations as I would wish to be treated, and I try to cultivate connections to these people.
Sam says I need to toughen up.
I need to get over it.
Parts of life are not for the faint of heart.