Sep 8

 Didn't really sleep. Sort of my own fault. Didn't go to bed until gone 7am. But I had slept beforehand. Broken in places. Just everything fractured.

Today was therapy day. Not having slept and then needing to be out by mid afternoon is not a great thing for me. I need hours upon hours of sleep and prep to pull myself together.

I considered just cancelling it. I didn't want to go either. I didn't want to go anywhere. Stay in. Bunker down.

But I ended up doing it. Showered. Dressed. Out of the door.

Look at me go on auto pilot.

I wasn't in the mood for talking about shit today. Mood was low. But not quite as low as it has been last week. I felt quiet. Subdued. Unworthy.

How have you been the shrink asked.

Shit I said.

Shit they repeated.

I am I guess what you'd call in "maintenance depression" mode. Where I am depressed. But functional. I am not climbing the walls. Yet.

We talked a little about what I meant by that. What my definition of going "properly mental" was. Difficult to describe. The mania. The panic. Sense of overwhelm. Everything is triggering. Desperation.

The shrink came up with a good word for it.

A high state of arousal.

Yeah I said. I suppose so. After a bit I considered, that's a good way to put it. It is exactly that when I think about it. I said I hadn't really found a good way to describe it. But. That was good.

The shrink noted that in the bits of it where I cannot even think of a word without triggering that it's an overloaded set of senses. Hyper sensitised.

I've thought about that as today has wound on. It's a good term. It also. Gives me a little more.... control... over what's going on. Instead of me labelling it as "just going mental". Hyper arousal. Ok. And. Kinda knowing that. It means you can understand possibly how to deal with it better.

Anyway.

The shrink wanted me to score how I was doing. If that was a 10. Where would I score it.

To score it properly I said, you have to realise that you ignore the depression bit. Depression is just like every Tuesday. It doesn't count. Like the colour of the sky being blue, you can always assume some level of mental fuckery. What does count is which side of the line you're on coping with it, coping with everything. One side of the line you have some form of say in the matter still. It's not under control slam dunk. But it's manageable kind of. A war is going on. But you get a say. The other side of the line you lose control entirely. You are gone.

When I am fully crazy I am over that line. So that's a 10.

Within that scale. I pitched myself at a 4. Actually. I got that wrong. I somehow got confused low to high. I should have said 6. Doesn't matter.

I mentioned that it gave me insight into what fully blown padded cell worst case scenario looked like. When I lost my mind. Stand in the corner and beat your head against the wall.

Metaphorically the shrink said.

No.

Literally.

That sounds self soothing the shrink said.

Yeah. It is. It's some desperate way to try and... stop the screeching.

It can get that bad.

Fortunately I said. It's pretty rare. But. It does happen. And it's not a place you want to go to. Avoid. At all costs.

I said I also kinda linked that crazy behaviour to the times I have "got stuck on a word". Where. I can't think. All I can see is a single word. I can't verbalise anything but that single word.

I gave the shrink the run down of my "erm" experience with Hazel. Where I could only say the word "erm". I could not move off it. I could not think. I said there was some vague notion of ... thought. But it was like I had lost the capability to form words in my head and all there was left was some notion of .. feeling. With just the word. Erm. Left.

Like that bit of your brain had just shut off the shrink said.

Yeah. Turned off. Burned out. Overloaded. Whatever.

I said I had had it a few times. And there was an enormous compulsion with it. It was magnetic. Once you were stuck in it. Trying to not do that was insanely hard. I gave the examples of shuffling around a kitchen just saying "tea" when making a cup of tea. And for the life of me not being able to say something different. And then struggling to say something different. "Water". Brilliant I said sarcastically. I said I can remember struggling to ... say.... a.... sentence.... I concentrated hard to pull one simple word to another.

Fascinating in a way.

Scary in another.

And to you the shrink said, who values thinking and evaluating so highly, very scary when that's taken away from you.

Yeah, kinda I said. 

I talked about whether it was a CFS thing. A mental thing. A little column A, a little of column B. I said I wasn't sure.

We talked about it a little. I said on the one hand I hadn't had such things before I got ill. On the other hand. I have never been under as much stress as I have after being ill. So. I don't know. And I said these things don't exist in a vacuum anyway. They rub up against each other.

Somehow we got onto the topic of always being the parent. It came up with work I think.

I noted how Andy, working under his own inner demons, could never say no to anyone, would anxiety up, and in some cases just run from difficult situations. I gave examples of scheduling. Where he could not say no even under those circumstances. I said it would be like you agreeing for everyone to come see you Tuesday. At the same time.

I wouldn't be able to deal with that the shrink said.

Right.

I'd just have to somehow try and make that work. That would be a problem.

Except I said. It's not his problem. It's my problem.

So he anxiety dumps on you.

Yes I said.

Anxiety comes in, he hands it off to me.

The shrink said he was using me as his emotional coping mechanism.

We talked about boundaries and how I had tried to curtail his behaviour. Talking about it repeatedly in ever more strongly worded terms. But nothing worked. And then with nothing else left, just reducing my availability to force him into doing something else than just making poor choices then anxiety dumping on me.

So, you say he's an adult, the shrink said, and clearly he is, but, here is acting like a child.

Yes I said. I said I had even figured out why that was the case. I went through my theory with his overly authoritarian mom. The absolute need to always placate and say yes. Never no. And run when things got out of control.

You said about boundaries not necessarily being mean I said. That a boundary laid down didn't have to be mean. But I said. Sometimes it absolutely does. Because you end up in a position where someone is drowning. And you either save them or you don't. And if you don't. They hate you for it. Even when there is a learned helplessness. When they give everything to you. I said sure, you can stand there and go, this is a painful bit of growth you need to go through, I'm not going to save you. But I said they end up blaming you for it.

The shrink liked the painful bit of growth thing. I got it. I even stated how I had said exactly what the shrink said, that laying down of boundaries was not necessarily terrible. In fact people could get a sense of confidence in you that you have a plan, you are clear, you have things well managed. And I had said to Andy on more than one occasion, saying no doesn't equate to fuck you I'm not working with you, it just means that you can pencil this in on Tuesday and that on Thursday, but no, we can't do both on Tuesday.

But I said.

It was clear Andy was not going to learn. Or work on changing. It is what it is. I said it was crazy. At 53 years old. All those years. Still haunted by his mom. The damage that is done is bewildering.

The shrink said it sounded scary from Andy's point of view. Always being under the anxiety gun. Sure.

So you end up being a parent the shrink said.

YES.

I hadn't at that point said parent. But they pulled it out.

I said that was my recurring role with almost everything in my life. Always being the fucking parent.

I said at work I had often vocalised the fact it felt like looking after a bunch of kids. Running around after them always cleaning up behind them. But I said. It was apparent in other bits of my life too.

People instinctively looked to me for answers. I was always expected to be the calm one. The one that helps. The one that knows. Just. Even unsaid. I said the number of times with friends, you get to a pinch point, and suddenly, all eyes turn to you. Nothing has been stated. No one has elected me "leader". I have not stood at the front and declared myself the leader. I said that's not who I am ! But. When a pinch point occurs, everyone ends up asking me. What do we do here. What does that mean. What should I do. And then when the pinch point is over. I get shoved back again.

I noted that for many years I wasn't even really super aware of it. I kind of knew. But didn't. In hindsight it stands out like a sore thumb. Always the one people relied upon.

I said it could also commonly be the case that the relationship I had with them was better than their own parents, so again, it reinforced the whole me as parent role. Without ever being stated. Acknowledged. Thought about. I was the backstop. When it trouble. Ask Johnny. 

The shrink asked if I had had to parent my parents. I hadn't got shit from them. But. Did I also have to be their parent. I could see where they were going with it. They thought that had to be the case. I don't think so I said. I can't ever remember it being like that. But then I brought up the terrible thing at the GP. When I was having a mental crisis. Went to the GP. The first one couldn't handle it, called in the other. My dad had come along. And I said in the middle of this. My dad launches into a speech about how his grandad had lead the labour marches of 1912 and was then forever villified for it, and on and on he went. Until I said. Me. At the lowest point. The worst person in the room. I had to adult fucking up. And gently tell my dad this wasn't the best time for that story. That it wasn't relevant.

Me. I said. Two professional GPs. My dad. Me having a mental crisis.

And who has to stand up and be the fucking adult and take control of the room.

I said this was my life in a nutshell. No matter what state I am in. I am still the one to adult up.

I also related how when I had become incredibly ill. Bouncing in and out of A & E. And Andy was still asking me to do this. Do that. What's the answer to this. And when I struggled. In an attempt in desperation to get me working, he said he would have to stop paying me. That's fine I said. And that when I said it could be the end of me. Andy had just said he would shut up the business. Again. Me failing on my ass. Convinced I was dying. I had to sit down. Be the adult. Coach him this was not a good response. He needed a plan. etc etc.

I said I will probably be in my grave. And someone will still be asking me to be the adult somewhere.

The shrink noted that with the GP, in my time of need, my dad had failed me.

I suppose so I said.

And you clearly were parenting your dad the shrink said. Yeah I said. I hadn't thought about that. I was more thinking of when I was a kid. But. Certainly. My dad can be like that. And you have to nudge him at times. And that's just the tip of the iceberg.

I think, the shrink said, that you probably did end up parenting more than you know.

Academics came into it. Was part of the issue here that everyone thought I was hyper competent, and therefore didn't need any help, so everyone was just helped by me instead, but "he's ok, he doesn't need any help". I assume, the shrink said, you did very well at school.

Eh I said. Variable. Funny thing. At times I could ace things. Like 100% in history exams. Top of the class in physics. Maths. And then at times. Slump. Down to mid table. I gave the example of the "experiemental" math exam we had as part of our mock exams when I was 15. One test was the standard one. One was an experimental one written by the math teachers "for fun". I said I scored highest on the experimental one. It wasn't even close. I scored just below what one of the other maths teachers who had taken the same exam scored. Clearly. And I writhed with self loathing at this, I showed "brilliance". I spat the word out contemptuously. And then I said. The standard test. I got second from bottom score in the top set. I clearly remember sitting there in that classroom. I can remember exactly which classroom. Time of day. Where I was sitting. And the math teacher looking at me and just asking. So what's that about ?

I shrugged.

That I said was my experience through school.

I used to get could do better on all my reports. One teacher wrote, "John knows exactly what he needs to do to pass, and does exactly that". Thank you Miss English teacher for that one. Some 40 years later, here I am quoting you.

The shrink mulled it over.

I said it started to smell perhaps a bit neurodivergent. That I wasn't connecting properly at times. Disengaged.

Yes the shrink said. It does feel like that.

But also the shrink said. It's a common thing in high intelligence people. If you don't engage them, they become bored. When gifted kids are not given the proper stimulus they become unfocused. You did well on the experimental test because it interested you. Yeah I said, I really liked that exam. One bit of it was to do with 3d trigonometry which we absolutely had not covered. But I sat there and figured it out from basic principles. It was awesome I said.

Exactly said the shrink. It was a puzzle to solve. It engaged you. You like puzzles.

I said the other exam felt rote. Boring.

I also gave the example of where when I was younger I figured out how to manipulate all the other kids in a word game. I figured out how they would think. Which word was the correct one - they would all react to someone reading difficult words or too long a description and figure that was the right one. And avoid the simplistic one. Knowing this. You just pitch your address to lean into their beliefs.

It was easy I said. And I enjoyed outthinking everyone.

Another puzzle said the shrink.

I said at the time it didn't feel like I was "high intelligence unengaged". But then. As a kid. A lot of things weren't apparent to me. I could tell you how it felt. But not really understand it. The shrink nodded. To be expected. I said I wasn't neglecting academic score on purpose. But. Sometimes it felt like it was fuzzy. That it took a lot of effort to pull together the fuzz over simple rote things. But complex things. Were easy. I would forever get told off for not listening to some boring easy droning teach up front. And instead stare at the pretty trees outside. Mesmeric.

You're not being engaged the shrink said. You're switching off because it's too simple.

Uh huh.

I have never really thought about it like that. I have always known "something" was going on. Whatever it was. I find it, in hindsight, mostly funny. A contradiction. Blowing hot and cold. To the enragement of teachers. But. I guess it does make sense. Also. In light of things I currently do. 

Like last week I had said to the shrink that one of my favourite things was playing complicated board games with a friend. Where neither of us read the rules. Or touch the rules. And then you have to figure the game out by just parsing it in real time. Looking for matching symbols. Trying to figure out what something is telling you. What mechanic is going on here. It was I said. Like trying to decode an alien language. One challenge is the game itself. But this I said elevated it. Before you could properly play the game well. You had to learn the game itself. Which was a cool challenge. The friend who I do this with once in a blue moon is a uni professor. He likes doing it too. He said he had told his friends all of which had been horrified at the notion. Why would you do that. That sounds awful. No. It's fun.

The shrink noted this this week. It's another puzzle they said. You love solving puzzles. Novel puzzles. Hard puzzles.

I thought about it for a second. Yeah. Very true. I do absolutely like some new chunky puzzle. If it has never seen the light of day before even better. Something. Truly unique. Chew it over. Sort it out. Organise it. Hand it over neatly resolved. Satisfying.

The shrink touched on an understanding of all the things I was talking about.

They could see how all of this linked into burnout. Depression. Dealing with CFS.

How always being the adult in the room fed into this. How having the upbringing I did had shaped me, forced me into being how I was in order to survive.

The feedback loop of people always wanting more from me. More solutions. More answers.

Yes I said. Perhaps it has taken this long to get to it. But all the things in my initial email to you. I think are there. I said none of them live in a vacuum. They all interact with each other.

The shrink agreed. None of it can be seperated out, that's not how we work.

We also covered a little about my disappointment with people.

Disappointed that I had to be the adult in my own mental breakdown meeting.

Disappointed that people fail in basic ways.

The high standards you have for yourself, you also have some expectation of others being able to do some things. And you are always disappointed with them.

I said I didn't expect anything from anyone. I completely accepted people are flawed and have weaknesses and strengths.

The shrink interjected. You almost seem to expect people to fail. You are waiting for them to fail and have to step in.

I said this wasn't some delusion I had about doing better. Or having to do that.

No said the shrink I can see that. This is your experience. This is what you've had to deal with.

YES.

We kinda left it there.

It seemed that the shrink was nodding towards me having high standards for not only myself but also others. Or rather. It always "doing something" to me as the shrink put it. Each of those failures "does something to me". Disappointment. That someone has fucked up. Again.

But I don't expect anything from people.

I almost said, but didn't get it out in the end, I expect the worst, then, you can't be disappointed.

I did also say with the GP bit.

When thinking on why it was me. Out of all the other fucking people in the room. It was me.

What is it ?

Is it that I am some superior genius of a person that always steps up to be the adult when no one else can. And I scoffed at this and said this isn't the goddamn case. Or is it that everyone else is a fuckup.

I further said that I get it. There are social contracts. The two GPs in that room are not going to politely tell my dad to shut the fuck up. They are going to patiently listen to him. I'm going to have to do that. And indeed. One of those GPs in that room was a great GP who ended up spending a lot of time with me and understood the rhythms of depression, and also, pointed out what was probably dysthymia. He was hands down the best GP I've had.

In the middle of all that. I also related the encounted with Andy I had.

Where I had at this point limited my availability. Going down to 2 days a week. For my own health. But also. To force Andy into a solution other than, just give everything to John.

There was pressure there I said. To do more work. But it was approached in a roundabout way. Was I ok for money. How am I coping on such a low wage. I am fine I said. Don't need it. Because Andy said we could always give you more work. Give you more days to work. Don't need it I said. Already clearly aware what the actual goal was. Before finally - because we could really do with you working more days. There it is. Not me. Not money. Not am I doing ok. What do YOU need.

The shrink noted this sadly. It could have been he was not aware of what he was doing they said.

Sure I said. Possible. They might not realise just how fucking insincere he was being. As I said you've already seen I have a thing about authenticity. And people doing one thing and saying another. Understandable. But in manipulative fashion. Big yikes.

The shrink said also he might have thought this was the best way to approach it. To start a conversation about it.

Uh huh. Sure. It's true when you look at it like that. A whole lot less shifty. A lot more, how the fuck do I bring this up.

Still.

Say what you fucking mean.

But I do get it. Perhaps the shrink has a point there. Despite it being cack handed. Perhaps Andy thought he was doing his best there in that approach and not being shifty. Eh. Meh. Heh. Not as shifty perhaps. It still comes down to where your heart is and priorities lie. 

Ho hum.

I am not unappreciative in being diplomatic. A hundred ways to say something. Some are gentle. Some are brutal. I get it. Sometimes round the houses is the way.

I don't know. That particular approach sets my hackles off though. It feels like an insincere attempt to give a shit before actually showing your cards that it's about them, not you. It also tickles my anti authoritarian, people in charge always fucking lie and wheedle shit, response.

I think. In that case. Honestly would have been best. Lead with we could do with more days from you. Gauge the room to see if money is at all a motivator ( it wasn't ). And if not. Don't bring it fucking up.

Eh meh.

Water under the bridge. Like so many things.

Andy does alright by me nowadays. A lot better.

Albeit. I think a lot of our setup is slowly going to the dogs. But then. I guess. This is part of the "painful growth" lesson of learning to do without Johnny. 

One of the last things the shrink pondered.

Is that I should take more time off from work.

Why don't I ?

Perhaps you should.

Perhaps that would help.