The Death Blades

 

Death is a part of life; we all know that.

And deaths happen in numerous ways, things you never think could happen.

And there you are.

I love this comic of aliens discussing a cat. Within this piece, we can see life lessons are discussed.

“Do Not Squeeze…”

Within the first panel, our aliens note how the cat is soft. And here is our first lesson. Indeed, we see one alien reaching out of hold and pet the feline, only to be advised by, perhaps, a more mature individual, “Do not squeeze. Creature is soft.”

A good depiction of the fragility of life, maybe?

Yes, you and I can often find ourselves clinging to…… and squeezing those relationships and personal matters that mean so much to us. How many of us look at love, and/or some highly desirable answer to our lives and wholeheartedly reach for that “soft creature?” All systems look a-go. All things look like wish fulfillment. We cannot help ourselves. We spring to reach, hold, and squeeze.

Yet, still, there is the consistent caution… “Do Not Squeeze.” That is in the midst of temptation. After all, the creature looks so, so soft

“Sometimes, Sharp and Painful…”

And this leads us to the next panel.

The lesson here? Never underestimate the seemingly harmless.

Likewise, we also get a lesson is duality, not either/or, but and.

Yes, the trickier land of “And.”

That means that we need to accept it all: the good and the bad. The pain, with the cuddles. Easier said than done, isn’t it? The adorable kitten that scratches. The irresistible puppy who bites. The dream-come-true relationship or opportunity that disappoints and hurts us.

“Sometimes they can also be sharp and painful,” is the guided response, for which our impressionable, enthusiastic, alien friend responds with, “Oh.”

There is learning occurring. And we all can embrace it as enthusiastically as we would want to grab that cat.

But are we learning?

“Gently Admire…”

We next move to the appreciation panel. The connection between respecting the softness, to better avoid the painful sharpness, is established. Here, our aliens realize and discuss how gratitude must be present in relation to any softness of anything we desire. Yes, we need to

appreciate the powerful value of anything or anyone in our lives. Handle with care. The fragility of life. It means not recklessly bounding into a situation or a person’s life, because there will be impact… and not always the impact we desire or intend. Human beings are destructive and, before we know it, we can get so caught up in a circumstance, person, relationship, opportunity, etc., that we go full throttle with that excitement, creating wreckage everywhere.

Gently admiring, however, in this instance, like we see in the image, brings a peaceful, contented expression on the cat’s face. It is probably because our feline is not feeling threatened and unsafe from unbridled enthusiasm aimed directly at it.

Truly no one of the feline persuasion enjoys rushing hugs and gropes from anyone. Most people aren’t thrilled with that, either.

Everyone mostly looks for the nearest piece of furniture to hide under.

And here’s another fun fact, added to the wisdom from our alien friends here. It’s not perfectly achieved every single time. For, all of our earnestness, efforts and “hearts in the right places,” heartache, mistakes, and pain can still occur.

And here marks a great segue, finishing off the moral of the story…

“Respect the Blades…”

Yes, our alien friends and our kitty are smiling, appearing to be filled with gratitude, happiness, and a great outlook on life. And that is great. But we can never forget that life is still sharp and cutting, even concerning the most comfortable, loving, and innocent of circumstances.

A smiling, soft creature of a cat, can still be painful.

Ergo…

“Respect the Blades.”

We’re back to the fragility of life. When things are wonderful and soft, when things are painful and hard, it keeps going. And we can never know when things will change.

Sometimes, the most we can hope to achieve is to respect the death blades of that reality.

Life has claws. Life has brutality and sweetness to it.

Respect accordingly.

Copyright © 2022 by Sheryle Cruse

Feeling Cute... Might Do It

 

Growth: You

 

Not a single person...

 

Ready?

 

Your Peace

 

Helicopter

 

The Slap of Narcissistic Injury

 

Some of us out have been physically slapped. If so, you know how startling it is. It can leave many of us in shock, unsure about how to respond.

Years ago, I encountered the slap of Narcissistic injury. I didn’t know what to call it back then, other than painful and jarring. But now, I’ve been able to learn some more of the finer points of abusive behavior, beyond just the vague, generic labeling of it as abuse.

The specific encounter involved a group project within my church. There were people, divided into teams, in charge of different tasks and responsibilities. Of course, there was leadership involved, overseeing the various aspects of the groups and their execution of activities.

And herein lies a major part of the Narcissistic abuse: the value attached to status, title and power.

As we were working on these different tasks and projects, one group member, (let’s call her Melissa), walked away from our team and the work we were doing.

Where did Melissa go?

Like a moth to the flame, she was drawn to a small circle of pastors, engaged in conversation. With plans to be of that same position and title, she, naturally, saw herself flocking amongst these more desirable eagles, rather than, I guess, hanging out with the lowly buzzard churchgoers of this group assignment.

Soon, another separate pastor alerted each group they needed to assemble and work on their respective assignments. However, Melissa did not return to our team. She merely glanced at the pastor, making the announcement, barely acknowledging the directive. Perhaps, she believed that was meant for others, not her. She continued to bask in the glory of the leaders she aspired to be like. Within our group, itself, without everyone present, things were at a standstill. Nothing could get done.

After about five minutes of waiting for her, I walked over to the small circle of pastors, addressing Melissa, requesting she join our group and help with our tasks. The look of offense in her eyes!

She angrily spat, “I’ll be right there!”

I returned to the group and waited, with the other members, for her to eventually, casually, saunter over to us. She then started making passive-aggressive digs at me, targeting me as the fool, the idiot, the evil doer who dared to ask anything of her.

Hello, entitlement.

She repeatedly did this throughout the work session that day. Some of it was within earshot of the other group members and even the pastors. But no one said or did anything. In a state of shock, myself, I didn’t know what else to do, without inflaming things further. I tried to “go to my brother” (Matthew 18:15) with her at a later point, as Scripture advised me to do, but she angrily rebuffed me again.

Okay, got it.

In recent years, I have become more familiar with the term “Narcissistic injury.” It is when an entitled person, usually a Narcissist, reacts to a displeasing communication with their offended reaction. They perceive it as a slight, an affront to their high-status value.

“How dare you!” is often their driving response. It can also have the subtext of “You didn’t do things my way!”

It certainly felt that way concerning Melissa. Indeed, “how dare I” not see how much more important it was for her to hang around the VIP pastors than the mere mortals of our small group? She was, perhaps, “above it.” Therefore, I should respond accordingly.

And, because I didn’t adhere to the situation the way I should have, because I didn’t do things her way…

SLAP!!!

Yes, I had to be punished and corrected (shamed), rather than have her realize and respond to the original job at hand, the reason we were there in the first place. It wasn’t to hob knob with the elite. She was a member of a group, doing, yes, lowly, unglamorous tasks. But she signed up for that. It was not merely her entrance into the ministry career goals she had her sights set on.

How dare I?

Narcissists, inherently, have this expectation that the word will and should revere them as special, as important. When that does not happen, conditions are favorable the fury of that perceived injury. To the Narcissist, the perceived injury is as real as physically losing a limb. It is that painful to them. And, it is completely unacceptable, and, therefore, worthy of retaliation against us.

I dared to challenge/not recognize the Melissa’s higher status.

Furthermore, I dared to remind her of what we were doing. How dare I do that?

Let’s just be real here. At that time of this incident, Melissa was not a pastor. She was not a high-ranking member of ministry. She was a volunteering member of the church, who, supposedly, agreed to work within a small group setting for a common, shared goal.

But clearly, I saw the “preferential treatment” she subscribed to certain individuals, based on their titles and monikers. And, as time unfolded, I saw her climb higher on the ministry ladder. Eventually, she became a leader with a certain level of status and power.

And, once she reached that level of power and status, it seemed like her entitlement issues worsened. There was a lack of humility, she, instead, reveled in the power she wielded.

She was not as interested in doing “the work” of the church as she was interested in achieving the “perks” of church leadership.

And they are two very different things, indeed.

The Entitlement Ratio:

Entitlement is the engine of Narcissistic injury. It’s often what motivates the slap. It appears to be, the greater the entitlement of an individual, the greater the perceived injury will be for the offender. And then, the greater the slap, in response. It does not matter who the person is or what the circumstances are. In the case of Narcissistic injury, the entitlement, the offense, the injury and the slap are in a category of “when,” not “if.”

It will happen. Just wait.

And while you and I wait, with knowledge in hand, it’s equally important not to view this while this as personal against us. It is not. The Narcissist’s insecurity rests with them. It is not something we need to take ownership for.

Melissa, for her many goals of attaining leadership, power and status, inevitably, had issues that very same leadership. She argued with pastors, impeding the work of the ministry everyone claimed to serve.

Entitlement bumping up against entitlement, perhaps?

“When,” not “if?”

There are no sacred cows when it comes to the Narcissist’s perceptions on anything: truth, power, love, relationships, wants, needs. All are vulnerable to injury.

How important it is, then, for us to arm ourselves with that understanding. Application of this knowledge is the power, if not the appropriate “slap” response to any abuse attempt aimed at us.

Copyright © 2022 by Sheryle Cruse

 

Sneeze Gone

 

What You Should Focus On

 

The Harmful Messages We Believe About Our Abusers

 

Concerning the abusive dynamic, I’m uneasily reminded of Abraham’s Lincoln’s statement about enemies…

“Do I not destroy my enemies when I make them my friends?”

That’s a lovely theory, and, in an ideal world, I’d be quite enthusiastic about it.

But life is un-ideal… and filled with abusive people who require a different approach from us… for our own safety.

With all due respect to President Lincoln, somehow, I don’t think he considered the toxic manipulation of some individuals. When someone is abusive, they are counting us having kind and generous natures. They are counting on us to forgive and freely allot multiple chances to them.

Overriding Our Instincts:

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

Ancient Proverb, “The Arthashastra”

Try thinking of this proverb this way: the gut reaction concerning my abuser is my friend.

See anything different now?

Yes, here’s, often, where it all gets started. We completely ignore our intuition. We dismiss our gut.

When we are involved with an abuser, we often don’t want to acknowledge that painful reality. We try to talk ourselves out of it. We convince ourselves that this kind of ugly stuff doesn’t happen to “people like us.” We reassure ourselves that this person is too attractive, too wealthy, too intelligent, too nice, too this-or-that, to be an abuser.

As much as we believe the abuser’s lies, we believe our own even more strongly.

The Harm: “Do I not destroy my enemies when I make them my friends?”

All of this can set the dangerous stage to sway us into wanting “to make things work” with an abusive, harmful person. We’re encouraged to make nice.  If we just believe our magical thinking, over unflattering reality, then everything will be okay.

And it’s not just that. We give more authority, more credence, to the “other” opinion, be it the abuser’s, the family and friends trying to talk us out of “acting too rashly,” and even systems like clergy and law enforcement, who encourage us to “think about what we’re doing.”

The translation of all of that is this: don’t trust yourself; trust them; trust us.

But, may times, by doing that, in matters like abuse, there is no destruction of the enemy, only the destruction of ourselves.

That’s not a fair trade.

Destructive Striving:

Speaking of destruction, there’s a lot of destructive striving. We reason, “If I can just do this, or stop doing that…”

And somehow, we never quite finish that sentence, other than to soothe ourselves with the hope that, “things will be better.” Again, it’s the magical thinking which woos us into accepting the faulty, dangerous core belief. Whether or not we know the exact language of that core belief, most of the time, it goes something like this:

“This is my fault. I deserved it. If I can just act right, then the hitting, the screaming, the pain (the abuse) will stop.”

The Harm: “Do I not destroy my enemies when I make them my friends?”

If we entertain Lincoln’s statement, while in this mindset, we can convince ourselves that being friends with our abuser, being accommodating concerning them, will solve things. All it takes is our willingness to be friends, and, again, “to make nice.”

But, often, when it comes to our striving, we’re the only ones doing the work. There is no two-way street. There is only the continuation of an unhealthy and unsafe dynamic.

The 4 F’s:

Most of us have heard about “fight or flight” coping strategy when it comes to crisis and an adrenalin response.

But there are two more “F’s:” Freeze and Fawn.

And, again, in the light of abuse, these reactions can be vain attempts to stop the pain, the violence and the unhealthy dynamic we suffer, at the whims of the abuser.

We desperately try to reassure ourselves, no matter which tactic we employ, “If I do this, maybe, they’ll leave me alone.”

The Harm: “Do I not destroy my enemies when I make them my friends?”

Again, the mistaken belief we accept, much to our detriment, is that the onus lies solely with us. It’s up to us, to fix and change things, never the abuser’s job. Make friends, “make nice,” do whatever it takes.

Fight… maybe we don’t fight our abuser, but we fight for the remedy which will change things. Flight… perhaps, we try to flee to safety, to avoid the harmful person and the ugly reality, any way we can.

Freeze… we can try not to be noticed; we endeavor to blend into our surroundings.

Fawn… we attempt to give in, hoping our acquiescence will prompt the abuser’s mercy.

Again, it’s all about us making things better, “friendlier,” for and with the abuser. However, during these attempts, we only exhaust and deplete ourselves. Nothing gets better, nothing changes, at least, not in the real ways we desire.

And, all the while, the abuser is comfortable, enabled, even rewarded as we are the ones doing all the heavy lifting.

Once again, in this situation, “friendship” is not the answer, just a harmful, codependent mirage.

Refusal of “What Is:”

The American Buddhist nun, Pema Chödron is famous for her concept, “Idiot Compassion.” It’s when we continue to participate in an unhealthy dynamic, situation or relationship because we feel obligation, responsibility, pity and yes, complicated love/enmeshment for the toxic person. We believe our involvement is necessary and helpful, even if it is to our own detriment. We believe that, if we keep “helping,” then things will finally be the way we long for them to be.

We pin magical thinking on “what if,” instead of “what is.”

The Harm: “Do I not destroy my enemies when I make them my friends?”

Repeatedly, we convince ourselves that it can change; they will change. It will get better.

We can do this for years, for decades, for our entire lives.

We can do that at the expense of our health, safety, marriages, families, careers, finances, relationships and personal goals.

Again, returning to the Abraham Lincoln enemy/friend quote, we cling to the hope that our hearts, our desires and efforts, somehow, will win the love of the abusive person, so much so, that they radically and permanently transform, love us back, and participate in a healthy, loving relationship that heals our wounds.

And, again, we take sole ownership of that unrealistic and unhealthy feat. We do not allow the other person to rise and fall on the realities of their own consequences. We rescue them before that ever has a chance of happening.

So, there’s no impetus, no need for change. Why would that person change? Things are working so well for them. We’re taking care of everything for them.

Keeping the Foe a Foe: Permission To Heal:

You cannot negotiate with abusers, much like you cannot negotiate with terrorists.

Ideally, yes, everyone would be able to get along, make amends, do the Kumbaya thing. But that concept is an unachievable Utopia, not the real world.

It’s to the abuser’s advantage, and to our disadvantage, to make them our friends, and a part of our inner circle.

We don’t need to be hostile or injurious about it, although, from the abuser’s perspective, that’s often how they’ll view our actions. This isn’t about seething hatred and bitterness, about plotting our revenge.

Rather, it’s about first granting ourselves the permission to keep harmful people out of our lives. This can start with a tiny word: “no.” This starts with boundaries.

Boundaries are the simple answer to a short question, “Is this person healthy for me?” Yes… or no?

It goes beyond the stories and the reasons why we insist on giving someone harmful access to our lives; it goes beyond every single extra chance, grace, forgiveness and opportunity.

Is this person harmful? Yes? Then that person is not a friend. That person is a rightful enemy.

Still wrestling with the question? Objectively how would you view someone outside of you, someone you care about, struggling with the same issue?

Would you advise them to stay, put up with it, keep getting hurt? No, you probably wouldn’t do that. You care about them too much to allow them to be harmed.

Well, now it’s time to care about yourself.

Be a friend, not an enemy, to yourself.

Copyright © 2022 by Sheryle Cruse

Ratio Breathing to Manage Anxiety

 

What's Best For You

 

Curious Over Right

 There can be a reward in the challenge of being curious over being right. | elephant journal

IMHO

 

Most of us are familiar with the children’s classic, “Charlotte’s Web” by E.B. White. We’re familiar with our favorite county fair pig, Wilber and his unlikely relationship with a spider named Charlotte.

As the story unfolds, the reality of a country fair pig’s fate becomes clear: he will be slaughtered. Upsetting as this is, Charlotte works out a P.R. campaign to save Wilbur. She starts creating a series of message cobwebs which declare how wonderful this pig is and how it would, therefore, be a grave mistake to kill him. It, inevitably, becomes a tourist attraction, thus securing Wilbur’s safety. With messages like, “Some Pig,” “Terrific,” and “Radiant,” interested was, indeed, generated.

And one of those messages was that of “Humble.”

We hear a lot about the importance of humility. All of that “pride goeth before a fall” stuff permeates our culture and our daily lives. We are repeatedly told to be humble, to stay humble.

Let’s look at that a little. What does humble mean?

It’s not the same as destructively tearing ourselves down. It’s not about poor self-esteem. Rather, it’s about a more realistic and accurate assessment of who we are and what our place is in the world. It starts by learning and accepting that yes, we are fallible, but still valuable.

Like Wilbur, many of us do not know just how intrinsically important we are; we, often, have not been taught that truth. We live in constant insecurity; we may even feel like, on some level, our lives are threatened. We underestimate the power of opinion, ours or anyone’s else’s. We possess faulty thinking and belief systems, many times, causing us harm in the process.

And, of course, we certainly don’t want to traipse over to the extreme opposite, being so insufferable and arrogant, puffing our chests and our inferiority complexes out for everyone to see.

Like the whole cliché of life, the more doable solution appears to be somewhere, in the middle, in the moderation.

Cue, therefore, a well-worn phrase we hear and speak frequently, “In My Humble Opinion.”

Wilbur, being called “humble,” was being acknowledged and complimented for an admirable trait. He didn’t call himself that. He had no idea of Charlotte’s web-spinning until after the fact.

Still, whether you and I are acknowledged or not, we have the responsibility to do realistic self-checks, all on our own. Personal inventory.

How out of control are our egos?

We need to recognize that each one of us has an opinion, but opinion does not always, necessarily, equal fact. It’s a perspective. It can be supported by facts and truths, but it is still a perspective, seen through our lens. There needs to be a cautious awe and humility at that.

In my humble opinion, anyway.

Copyright © 2022 by Sheryle Cruse

 

A Q and A about Sassy

 

Conditioning

 

Daily, mundane routines can capture the deeper issues in our lives.

Like a lot of people out there, my hair has vexed me. Memories of snarls and pulling at my head, using “No More Tears” hair detangler certainly did not matters. And I never looked like the pretty, golden-haired little girl, enjoying the bonding experience with the beautiful, blonde mother, featured on the bottle.

I’ve spent the greater part of my life battling my hair. Hence, hair conditioner. And, as I’ve been battling my various OTHER issues, family dysfunction and abuse, being at the top of the list, I’ve recently seen how there is, indeed, a common denominator: conditioning, as the practiced tactic, and, as some would say, the “solution.”

A documentary on hair once espoused that the universal desire of people with hair problems is that they have a “manageable” coiffure.

Whether curly, wavy, straight, kinky, fine, coarse, long or short, people just don’t want to battle their hair all day long.

Therefore, hair conditioner promises to fix our woes. Check out what is declared on the bottles:

“To moisturize, nourish and protect.”

“Tames and smooths”

“Vibrant and beautiful!”

As I contemplated some of hair conditioner’s promises, I saw striking similarities to abusive dynamics.

Like many conditioners out there, abuse’s goals are often to…

Protect:

How many conditioners promise to protect the delicate strands of hair from harm, damage and breakage?

My life has been littered with bottles, assuring me that my snarl-prone ‘do would not suffer any further havoc. I was safe using this magic potion.

Aren’t we all promised safety with this haircare product? Indeed, ingredients like Biotin and Keratin are often offered to keep our manes in their full glories.

Abuse and dysfunction, likewise, in their deluded perspectives, also believe protection is happening, employing their own ingredients:  manipulation, gaslighting, isolation, threats and misuses of money and power.

The emphasis is on the protection of the image, the reputation, the “system” the abuser has going on. Nothing can threaten that “status quo.” It must be protected, no matter what.

The abuser may say things like…

“…You don’t need to work and make money. I’ll take care of you…”

“…I just want it to be the two of us…”

“…You don’t need friends. You have me…”

The “protection” ensures no outsider can peek into the reality, which is often shame and secret-ridden and physically, emotionally and mentally harmful. Protection from outside critiques or influences, therefore, must be prevented and destroyed. Abuse is the only world allowed to flourish.

Smooth Things:

Conditioners often tout their ability to make one’s hair the ultimate in silky smoothness.

I have a slight natural wave that gets feisty with humidity.

And I live in Minnesota.

Therefore, some smooth silky reality would be nice to, again, keep things manageable on top of my head.

Here’s where ingredients like Argan and Coconut Oil are presented as the must-have solutions to hair woes. The focus is on de-emphasizing “unruly” curls, waves and, of course, the dreaded “frizz.”

Beat that hair into submission.

And, once again, the abuser’s playbook has some similar motives and strategies: to keep the peace at all cost. Make things look more “pleasing” than what they are.

“Smoothing out” things, in an abuse context, may look like this…

…Convincing institutions like houses of worship, schools and court systems that there is some “misunderstanding,” usually because the person being abused is presented as “crazy, troubled, sick” and, therefore, needs the abuser to look after him or her…

…Lying, just outright lying. The abuser knows the truth is against him/her. So, building a Machiavellian case, with any ends justifying any means, is necessary. Lying, using charm and, yes, smoothing any circumstance is implemented to prevent and stop an outsider from asking some inconvenient questions…

…Bribing and bartering. Yes, really. A deal, that was “too good to be true” was promised, one often involving- quelle surprise- large amounts of money and, just like that, the person gets sold out. Yes, indeed, deals do get made, secret deals. When an abuser is involved, opportunistic schemes can abound…

Control Things:

Conditioner promises us the illusive guarantee of complete and perfect control.

These products claim to correct and alter our hair shafts, paving the way for perfect hair.

Again, whatever unruly and undesirable state of hair you and I are enduring, there still seems to be this unrealistic expectation that we will reach perfection with it.

So, we apply the conditioning.

Abuse is similar also, in this respect. It is all about keeping things contained. Just like the other mechanisms of conditioning, there is emphasis on keeping something or someone from doing something outside of the bounds of the abuser’s permission and altering another individual’s life.

Such as…

“…Trapping” the victim: in example: taking his/her car keys, relocating the person to an isolated area, monitoring their phone usage…

…Limiting the individual’s choices: their appearance, what they eat, how they dress, what they say, their interactions with family and friends…

“…Convincing” them that they need to live like this. If they deviate from this premise, they are shamed-conditioned- to believe they are wrong, at fault, defective, ungrateful, stupid, crazy or “not good enough” in any way…

Weighed Down:

Here’s a lesson I learned, early on, about hair conditioner. Despite its many promises, it can weigh your locks down. Over the years, I have tried to have smooth, sleek, manageable hair, only to achieve a limp, stringy result.

Too much conditioning? Too much manipulation of my hair when I should have just shampooed it and gotten on with my life?

Still, with all seriousness, as we look at conditioning within the context of abuse, we can also get weighed down, far too quickly, easily and thoroughly.

One can argue that abuse takes a lifetime from which to recover. The conditioning leaves its mark. It leaves us automatically responding to life with maladaptive behaviors that, if we had not been “conditioned,” perhaps, we would have freed us to make healthier choices. It’s an endless, demoralizing rabbit hole to descend into.

Nevertheless, here we are, in whatever condition we are.

Conditioning is all about manipulation. It can be hair; it can be a human being.

The challenge that we face, as we recognize its subtle handywork, indeed, is to reconcile and heal our condition: soul, mind, psyche.

May we all learn what that experience is for our lives.

Copyright © 2022 by Sheryle Cruse

 

Focus on Creating

 

Things To Say to An Anxious Child

 

JADE

 

“No is a complete sentence.”

I have come across people who cannot accept my no, on various issues, including, but not limited to, being accommodating about doing what they wish instead of doing what’s best for me. Cancer has changed that because it had to change the acquiescence that I once gave others.

Twelve Step Recovery Programs often include the acronym, “J.A.D.E.”

And, since my diagnosis, I’ve discovered JADE has covered the bases, falling under the statement, “No is a complete sentence.”

I may be taken behind the woodshed and shot for that perspective.

How dare I?

How dare I be displeasing?

Yet, here I am, Ladies and Gentlemen, often placed on trial, asked to prove my case.

Therefore, JADE…

Justify:

Right after I was diagnosed, medical opinion asserted that a simple (hah, simple) Lumpectomy would be all that was necessary. Let’s schedule me, then, for that procedure.

So, when I informed my surgeon I decided differently, I was met with surprise. I decided to have the more radical, in some peoples’ minds, choice of a bilateral mastectomy.

Taken aback when I voiced my decision, my surgeon immediately asked me about my choice.

I gave my reasons which were personal, as this whole Breast cancer context is, indeed, personal. But, looking back on it now, I see it more as “I don’t need to justify myself to you; it’s my body.” My surgeon didn’t ask me about my decision for “health reasons.” After all, no matter what surgical procedure was performed, both would accomplish the same goal: to remove the cancerous tumor.

No, my surgeon wanted to know because it didn’t align itself with medical expectation, meaning, the surgeon would tell me the medical opinion of what was best… and I’d follow that decision, without question.

And no, that didn’t happen.

“No was a complete sentence to a Lumpectomy; “Yes,” however, was my complete sentence to removing my breasts.”

Done. I decided. And I would not change my mind.

What do you feel you need to justify to others? What you choose as a profession? Who you love? Being a non-conformist, in any way? Do you feel you need to justify your entire existence?

Be on the lookout for interactions which want to shove you into a “not good enough” corner. Pay attention to the “J” of JADE.

Argue:

This word is another connected element to the J.A.D.E. principle. It can function as a synonym to the previously discussed, “Justify.” I say that because, like “Justify,” the word “Argue” seems to come to the forefront in some interactions which can involve another person’s inability or willingness to deal with our “no” response.

Once I made my decision about my bilateral mastectomy, my surgeon next assumed I would jump on the reconstruction bandwagon. I would get new breasts now. After all, leaving my deformed chest like that simply was unheard of.

That is, it was unheard of until my surgeon heard of my answer.

I was adamant about not undergoing further surgeries. No reconstruction for me, thank you. I was at peace with being breast-less, which appeared to mortify my surgeon.

There was a bit of argument over my decisions; reconstruction was just the tip of the iceberg.

And I say that as a caution concerning other peoples’ agendas. I cannot say for certain, what were my surgeon’s motivations. But I did have my gut reaction and my conversations with other women about their experiences to go on.

And I got an abundance of intel, in my research and conversations with other women. Through both, I discovered some surgeons tried to pressure their patients to get reconstructive breast surgery because they make more money that way. I heard experiences of some women who were coerced into not only getting reconstruction, but also getting a breast size they didn’t want, all because the surgeon wanted that size for them.

As I held my ground and “argued” my choices with my surgeon, I still wasn’t heard.

Okay, then. Let’s try something else.

How about involving the hospital charge nurse and patient advocate about my frustrations? Yep, that did the trick.

I no longer wanted to engage in the back and forth with my surgeon. I was an informed woman; I made thoughtful choices that were best for me. I would no longer argue about that.

Arguing can be quite pointless, especially if the other party is neither willing, nor able, to hear you and I out. Pressure, coercion, name calling, insults and dismissive attitudes can all surface. These mechanisms exist because it is about agenda from the other party. Whatever he/she wants, perhaps, in their minds, is more important than what you and I want.

Pay attention if your gut check is screaming that to you. Major breast surgery and arguing with my surgeon may appear to be an extreme example, but, in your own circumstances, do you see any similarities?

Are you feeling pressured? Coerced? Dismissed? Is someone telling you that what they want for you is more important than what you want?

How much arguing are you having to do right now about a certain issue? Do you feel the force of someone else’s agenda?

Defend:

“Defend” can quickly surface with “Justify and “Argue.”

How many of us are put on the defense, simply for asserting our position or rights?

Again, check for agenda and coercion. See any?

How does someone react when you disagree with them? Do you desire to go in another direction? Do you get pushback? Are you on the defense?

Concerning my surgeon, “Defend” often popped up in my interactions with this person. There was a constant battle of wills, even though it was my body and life that were directly affected. So, naturally, one would think, it would be me then, to decide, what choices I made concerning my body and life.

But it, of course, wasn’t that simple.

Upon recovering from my surgery, I was on the defense, again. I quickly encountered the “God complex” from my surgeon, feeling like I was little more than Dr. Frankenstein’s creature to be molded according to the great doctor’s vision.

Not helpful.

Again, it calls into question the matter of agenda. What was my surgeon’s? To get me on the expensive cancer conveyor belt of procedures, treatments and tests? There certainly wasn’t any “bedside manner” or interest in me as a human being.

At my most vulnerable, perhaps, I was still having to fight, not even the cancer, but the people who claimed to treat the cancer.

Actions speak louder than words.

So, again, check the action. Are you having to take action to defend yourself?

Simple question: yes or no.

Answer it and act accordingly.

Explain:

And lastly, there is this word in the acronym.

This is, perhaps, the final complexity we bump against when you and I find ourselves “stuck in a moment.”

This might be the final attempt to pressure us when we say “no” to an otherwise, wanted “yes.”

Long after my surgery, I encountered more people, who, upon finding out about my diagnosis and choices since, asked me if I underwent reconstruction and when, exactly, I would get breasts, already.

Cue the temptation to explain my decision. Just add it to Justify. Argue. Defend.

However, “explain” is a bit more involved. It requires a detailed accounting of our actions…to people for whom it was none of their business.

I still remember the awkward silences, wide eyes and the restless fidgeting as people awaited my explanation as to why I didn’t get breasts. I’m getting better at just quietly staring away these incidents. I don’t need to explain myself, especially about something so personal.

But some people still, somehow, believe they are owed an explanation.

How about you?

How many times have you felt the need to explain your right to be yourself and make your choices? How many times have you been punished for doing otherwise?

JADE. A tidy little acronym, with so much hidden power held within it. When we think of Jade, typically, we often envision the gorgeous green gemstone. Something precious, something beautiful and of great value.

Perhaps we need to view the acronym in the same manner. Perhaps, we need to see it as the precious gem in the way we conduct our lives and have dignity in them.

We deserve to be respected for who we are and what choices we make, even if others disagree with them. Coercion from another person and manipulation to get us to fall in line, is not acceptable. It never has been; it never will be.

Live your life as this polished gem then. As you make your choices and live your life, be brilliant and unapologetic as you face a question, an interrogation and an abusive instance with the definitive statement:

“No is a complete sentence.”

You have nothing to prove to anyone else. Be yourself, instead.

Copyright © 2022 by Sheryle Cruse

In Bad Spirits

 

“She’s in good spirits.”

How often have we heard that expression? It reminds me of the scene in “The Wizard of Oz” in which Glinda, floats in on her bubble, asking Dorothy a blunt question, “Are you a good witch or a bad witch?”

Those of us who are diagnosed are often met with the expectation we will be “in good spirits.”

We hear so much about a positive outlook, about how joy and laughter are healing for any recovery. We are shown countless stories of individuals who had such sunny perspectives, even though they were end stage this or that disease. We see heartwarming testimonies of how a person is determined to “beat the odds,” “to never give up,” and “to be an inspiration for the rest of us.”

Then, there’s usually some chronicling of this individual doing something impactful, to help others, to make people smile. Noble. Inspiring. Worthy of being labelled “in good spirits.” And, perhaps, making things ten times more difficult for the rest of us diagnosed, as the rest of us are struggling, feeling angry and depressed. We feel like we’re only draining people, not helping them, because of our circumstances. We, by comparison, are “in bad spirits.”

As part of my “Cancer Care,” I have regularly been in doctor’s offices and exam rooms. Part of my treatment and monitoring involves me filling out something called a distress test. It’s the add-on feature after answering a slew of questions about any new symptoms, like unusual pain and difficulty breathing. You know, fun things to think about. The distress test gets right to the anxiety and depression questions, probing about suicidal thoughts, feeling isolated, even getting into one’s own spirituality.

Indeed, like clockwork, I get flagged as I respond honestly to the question, “Are you experiencing anxiety or depression?”

“Yes, I’m scared; I’m depressed.”

And then I have to encounter a further interview from that nurse about my mental state.

“Do you feel like you are struggling with your spirituality?”

“Yes, I have faith and I pray about my situation, but I’m still scared and depressed.”

The nurse’s brow furrows a bit.

“Do you feel like people would be better off without you?”

And here’s where I’m expected to respond with something like…

 “Oh, no, of course not. My loved ones are there for me and are supporting me. Everything’s great. I’m blessed!”

But most of the time, I just respond with, “No,” and leave it at that.

“What kind of support do you have in your life?”

Get ready for some cliché responses, everyone…

“Well, I have a wonderful, loving husband, some great friends and I am in therapy.”

The nurse nods, conveying a sigh of relief.

I guess I answered correctly. Maybe I even passed the distress test with flying colors.

But, make no mistake about it, I’m still distressed.

I’m not ragging on the medical community for sheer ragging sake. I know everyone is just trying to do their jobs. Saving lives. But there still seems to be this built-in discomfort surrounding my diagnosed reality. They get uncomfortable with my uncomfortable truth. They want me to be Pollyanna Optimism when it comes to how I view “my cancer,” my life and my attitudes about mortality. They want me to “beat the disease” and “be a warrior.” Here’s a Breast cancer pink ribbon for you to wear and get more life- affirming for wearing it.

Medical community, your heart may be in a good place, but it’s still misguided.

You want me to respond a certain way because it makes you less uncomfortable. Yeah, sure, you want to save my life, but you’d rather not hear about my scary, two o’clock in the morning death thoughts as I lie awake in the dark. I have heard from you nurses just how inspiring my fight is, how courageous I am. But you’re not as inspired to know that, before my routine appointment with you, I cried for an hour, gauging exactly, when I should put on my makeup, so that I wouldn’t cry all of it off before I showed my face in public. How courageous am I now? How inspired are you by me now?

I am not “in good spirits.”

It feels like no one knows what to do with me, other than give me some more cliché responses like, “you’re a fighter,” “you’re a trooper,” “you are going to beat this!”

Are you sure? How can you be so sure?

You may be reading this and assert I’m choosing to think and feel negatively. I’m whining. I should make the choice to be positive about my plight. I should embrace life and focus less on death. I should count my blessings, be thankful for all of the good that surrounds me. I hear all of that, partly because its messages come from within, not just from other people’s suggestions. All of the “should’s”- yep they’re here for roll call.

But how, exactly, is all of this “shoulding” supposed to help me “beat cancer,” anyway?

How is not being honest with my real, true feelings, sublimating them under an inspirational script of stock answers, supposed to help me? Truth reveals itself, regardless.

Do you really want me to lie that much about my diagnosis, prognosis, life and death circumstances? And, if so, why? Is it because you feel better about the lies instead of the truth?

Most of us do, if we’re honest. Lies are comforting; truth is less so.

If I were Dorothy, responding to Glinda’s question, I guess, nine times out of ten, I’d have to honestly answer her with, “I’m a bad witch. Go ahead and drop a house on me.”

My diagnosis has taught me a lot about who I really am, cliché as it sounds. I know who I am not. I am not optimistic. Realistic, at best. I can go full-on pessimistic in the blink of an irritated eye. I have spent much of my life trying to override that, believing I was wrong, immoral, sinning, all because my feelings weren’t the stuff of “get well” cards. And, even though, as the medical community likes to say, “we don’t know why a person gets cancer,” what if, just what if, suppressing my less-than-inspirational emotions helped to create the disease? What if that suppression was carcinogenic? It’s possible, right?

So, couldn’t it, likewise, be possible that “getting real” about all of the fear and ugliness could help me feel better, even if it didn’t cure me? Healing is different than curing. Healing is deeper. And that’s what I’m about these days. I’m doing a deeper dive.

And, if it takes me being “in bad spirits” to do so, then, so be it.

Copyright © 2022 by Sheryle Cruse