Assignment complete!

Well, not fully, but hear me out....

This past week, my therapist and I chatted about my first Nourishment post.  I've since gone through the first half of my list of things that nourish me at her request and written out how ED has taken those things away from me as well as how I envision those things in my life WITHOUT ED.  Pretty eye opening stuff which I'll share once I get the whole thing complete.

ANYWHO.....as part of the discussion around that journalling (which incidentally she made me read out loud despite my objections....weird and gross to read that stuff out loud!  It's like reading your diary out loud.  AWKWARD!) we got on the topic of being very mindful when a situation comes up that reverts me back to feeling like I have the coping skills of a 6 year old.  Which happens A LOT.  She talked me through what I could do if I was feeling that panic "Danger!  Danger!  Run and hide!" feeling.  Name it/define it and send the message back that I am NOT still that fearful 6 year old and that I do not need to be afraid because I am a strong and capable adult.

I will admit, I thought it was silly and strange.

Until I woke up Saturday with some non-specific anxiety.  Now, lets give the Zoloft the props it deserves.  It wasn't as full blown as it was pre-happy pills.  But it was there.  And I didn't know why.

Which then, causes more anxiety.  Because I'm super sane like that.

Instead of buying into the anxiety, I just became very mindful of it.  Did a little "You would KNOW what it was if it was something legitimately anxiety producing.  Relax and get over it or define it." in my head like a model patient.

And still, couldn't tell what was up.  Except for that my eating was a mess, my attitude was a mess and I just didn't know why or how to make it go away.

Until we got to my daughter's piano recital on Sunday afternoon and my Mom turned to me and said, "Didn't you guys used to have to memorize your pieces for your recitals?"

BANG!  ZOOM!  There it was!  Flood of anxious memories of my childhood piano recitals.

Going through the act of a piano recital as a GROWN UP OBSERVER was still enough of a trigger for me 25 years later.  I HATED piano recital time.  It scared me to the core to have to perform something without music in front of a huge group of people.  I KNEW it would never be perfect and the idea of making a mistake and then not having music to go back to was absolutely terrifying in its potential to expose me for being falible.  I just knew I would ruin the entire thing and disappoint my teacher and family if I played one wrong note.  My performance would never be good enough.  *I* would never be good enough.

So I sat there and did exacty what M told me to do.  Talked myself through it.  Acknowledged the scared little kid.  Acknowledged that I would have been so happy if someone would have allowed me the music and told me it was OK if I hit a wrong note as long as I was trying as hard as I could.  Acknowledged that all those junky messages of my performance on rectial day being a reflection of my self worth were all totally created by my ED and that perfection wasn't the point of recital day no matter what ED told me.  I then reassured myself that those fears have no place in my life today as I am a grown up and in control of my own feelings and experiences.  And dammit, if I ever need my music, I am capable of standing up and saying so.

So there childhood piano recital.  Take that!  :)