I went to the doctor about a month ago. It was a routine appointment, but I did have something on my mind. After I quit smoking last year, I put on about 20lbs. of weight. They say that’s normal, but I used to weigh over 200lbs and had worked really hard to get myself down to 175 (well, okay, I ended up sticking at around 180). I didn’t stress too much about the weight, figuring I’d lost it before and that I could again. And then when it didn’t come right back off, I started to be concerned. The real kicker was later on this past year when I started to gain even more. Next thing I knew, I was weighing in at 214 at the doctor’s office. Now I know everyone says those scales are higher than our home scales, but I’ll be honest—I weighed on my home scale before going in and it told me exactly the same thing.
So I freaked out just a hair. Talked to the doc, asked him about my ideas. For a long time I only ate 1 meal a day, so I wanted to change that. And I used to run/jog. At one point I was doing a couple miles 3-4 times a week, or a mile everyday. And I had to absolutely cut out the sugars and cut down on the carbs as much as possible. He said that all sounded good. Keep the food ingestion going on a more regular basis to get the body out of starvation mode, exercise, and try to burn more calories than what I take in. That’s the general formula, after all.
I started eating breakfast, adding in some healthier choices. I’ve tried to cut way back on the carbs and sugar especially. I’ve started jogging again. Not everyday, but 4 times a week. I have a plan going to slowly work my way back up to a mile. It will take a bit, but what I remember from when I did it before was I was successful when I kept the attitude that it wasn’t so much about how far I went, but more the discipline of going.
And speaking of that discipline, for the past month I’ve kept the exercising up. The eating is much improved. I had a total lapse with fast food (stuffing those depressed feelings), but bravely stepped on the scales the next morning for the first time in a month anyway. The results? 209.
Much improvement.
Five pounds in a month is a good, solid amount. And who knows how much less it would have been had I not binged on fast food? So I’m feeling really good about that. Solid. Still eyeing it suspiciously, because I will need to sustain that type of losing for awhile. But I figure it’s like this: when the doc looked at my chart, he saw that two years prior to my seeing him a month ago, I’d weighed 178. Well, 214 minus 178 is 36 lbs. A big weight loss goal like that takes time. So if I lose an average of just 3 pounds a month, then in a year I’ll be back to where I was. Losing 5 pounds? Huge victory from that perspective.
And that’s why I’m only weighing myself once a month. I used to go once a week so that I could really see and track. But when I was unable to lose, I ended up depressing myself, which would lead to stress eating, which just made things worse. So to be on a downward trend of a pound a week feels good, and I hope I can keep it up.
Thursday, October 31, 2013
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
“Plank Challenge”
So I saw this online. Not sure if I'll do it or not, but I sure like the idea better than situps.
The 30 Day Plank Challenge will send your core strength through the roof!
The 30 Day Plank Challenge will send your core strength through the roof!
- Day 1 - 20 seconds
- Day 2 - 20 seconds
- Day 3 - 30 seconds
- Day 4 - 30 seconds
- Day 5 - 40 seconds
- Day 6 - REST
- Day 7 - 45 seconds
- Day 8 - 45 seconds
- Day 9 - 60 seconds
- Day 10 - 60 seconds
- Day 11 - 60 seconds
- Day 12 - 90 seconds
- Day 13 - REST
- Day 14 - 90 seconds
- Day 15 - 90 seconds
- Day 16 - 120 seconds
- Day 17 - 120 seconds
- Day 18 - 150 seconds
- Day 19 - REST
- Day 20 - 150 seconds
- Day 21 - 150 seconds
- Day 22 - 180 seconds
- Day 23 - 180 seconds
- Day 24 - 210 seconds
- Day 25 - 210 seconds
- Day 26 - REST
- Day 27 - 240 seconds
- Day 28 - 240 seconds
- Day 29 - 270 seconds
- Day 30 - PLANK FOR AS LONG AS POSSIBLE!!
“Get Over Yourself”
So I’m still thinking about this ‘get over yourself’ bit. Grr. But before that, a more general check in ...
I’ve not been getting a lot of sleep lately. I think I see why it’s important to do your college schooling when you’re young—the body just doesn’t handle lots of late nights nearly as well as it gets older. Thank god I’m not partying anymore. That would really be too much.
I had another fairly vivid dream last night. I don’t remember too much about it, just that it was about my most recent ex-girlfriend. I think she was over at my apartment for some reason. We were reconciling, or we reconciled while she was there. But then I went into the bathroom and the toilet and the sink was covered with all her stuff just like from when we were together and she’d stay over.
My brain has been pretty cranky lately with the imaginary conversations. My current boss, my former boss, my school professor, etc. I’m better about noticing that it’s happening, and the shutting it down is going a little different these days. Instead of feeling at the mercy of a mind that’s out of my control, there’s more disgust there, and also less attachment to it. So where as before when it would happen, it could be really overwhelming and I’d be just praying for it to stop and go away, counseling myself to stop hurting myself; now it’s like when it happens its nastier, but it doesn’t have as much power I think? Or at least I’m not as emotionally invested in it. Which seems like a contradiction. These things are tough to describe.
I really, really, really want to just go home and hole up in the studio. Finish dad’s project. Go have a relaxing coffee at my favorite coffee shop. Maybe write on my research paper a little.
And another random cool note: it’s been over a year since I quit smoking cigarettes. In just a couple weeks it will be one year completely nicotine free. Amazing shit. Still. Yeah, I still think about lighting up from time to time, but haven’t yet. I really hope it sticks. After smoking for 17 years, I really thought I’d never be able to quit.
So back to the ‘get over yourself’. I don’t think I’m obsessing over it, just had an additional thought. There’s a piece of emotional content there in the pain that has to do with not being smart, or right, or something like that. I’ve worked with my therapist a bit on the whole not being special (well, okay, only a little bit), but this piece got me thinking. Like, what is appropriate? Where is the happy healthy medium? I may see my behavior as just being really enthusiastic, joyful at being a grad student and succeeding for example.
But something comes across as egotistical (maybe? Still not sure it’s me; might be others’ issues). But clicking back to the modeling thing, that makes sense. Of course I don’t know what a behavior that’s got an appropriate amount of pride and confidence without being egotistical looks like. I’ve had no model. And to further extend it, if I’m trying to create one myself, then it’s going to be very fragile and easily slapped down by any negative comment. Except that any negative comment has always felt like a painful slap down.
So there’s something happening here that’s been happening a long time. Not sure what. Work with the therapist pointed to issues with Dad growing up. That may well be, but how do I ‘fix’ it so that I’m not feeling those pangs every time? Maybe I need to do the Buddhist thing and just accept that I’m sensitive, that these things will hurt, and recognize the only real problem there is my wishing it weren’t so. Yeah. Yeah, I’ll still try the therapy first.
Oh and on a totally random note, I’m thinking also about how I seem to have issues with authority figures. What a surprise.
I’ve not been getting a lot of sleep lately. I think I see why it’s important to do your college schooling when you’re young—the body just doesn’t handle lots of late nights nearly as well as it gets older. Thank god I’m not partying anymore. That would really be too much.
I had another fairly vivid dream last night. I don’t remember too much about it, just that it was about my most recent ex-girlfriend. I think she was over at my apartment for some reason. We were reconciling, or we reconciled while she was there. But then I went into the bathroom and the toilet and the sink was covered with all her stuff just like from when we were together and she’d stay over.
My brain has been pretty cranky lately with the imaginary conversations. My current boss, my former boss, my school professor, etc. I’m better about noticing that it’s happening, and the shutting it down is going a little different these days. Instead of feeling at the mercy of a mind that’s out of my control, there’s more disgust there, and also less attachment to it. So where as before when it would happen, it could be really overwhelming and I’d be just praying for it to stop and go away, counseling myself to stop hurting myself; now it’s like when it happens its nastier, but it doesn’t have as much power I think? Or at least I’m not as emotionally invested in it. Which seems like a contradiction. These things are tough to describe.
I really, really, really want to just go home and hole up in the studio. Finish dad’s project. Go have a relaxing coffee at my favorite coffee shop. Maybe write on my research paper a little.
And another random cool note: it’s been over a year since I quit smoking cigarettes. In just a couple weeks it will be one year completely nicotine free. Amazing shit. Still. Yeah, I still think about lighting up from time to time, but haven’t yet. I really hope it sticks. After smoking for 17 years, I really thought I’d never be able to quit.
So back to the ‘get over yourself’. I don’t think I’m obsessing over it, just had an additional thought. There’s a piece of emotional content there in the pain that has to do with not being smart, or right, or something like that. I’ve worked with my therapist a bit on the whole not being special (well, okay, only a little bit), but this piece got me thinking. Like, what is appropriate? Where is the happy healthy medium? I may see my behavior as just being really enthusiastic, joyful at being a grad student and succeeding for example.
But something comes across as egotistical (maybe? Still not sure it’s me; might be others’ issues). But clicking back to the modeling thing, that makes sense. Of course I don’t know what a behavior that’s got an appropriate amount of pride and confidence without being egotistical looks like. I’ve had no model. And to further extend it, if I’m trying to create one myself, then it’s going to be very fragile and easily slapped down by any negative comment. Except that any negative comment has always felt like a painful slap down.
So there’s something happening here that’s been happening a long time. Not sure what. Work with the therapist pointed to issues with Dad growing up. That may well be, but how do I ‘fix’ it so that I’m not feeling those pangs every time? Maybe I need to do the Buddhist thing and just accept that I’m sensitive, that these things will hurt, and recognize the only real problem there is my wishing it weren’t so. Yeah. Yeah, I’ll still try the therapy first.
Oh and on a totally random note, I’m thinking also about how I seem to have issues with authority figures. What a surprise.
Tuesday, October 29, 2013
“Woke Up Emotional”
A depressing thought just ran through my head. I’ve spent a lot of my life looking for a place I belong, a group of people I belong with; a place where people want me, that I want to be, where there are others who are like me and I am like them. But there are no people like me. It’s the double-edged sword of being such an eccentric, unique individual. How do I feel about it? Some days it doesn’t bother me. Some days it makes me really sad. Some days I just hate it.
I woke up really angry this morning. On the way in to work, there was a wave of depression. I don’t know how much of it is from the dream. There’s also some stressful stuff going on in my life—my work is moving to a new building. That’s stressful, but more so because of how it’s stressful for everyone around me. I try to not let other people’s issues affect me, but I’m not as good at it as I wish I were. I’m just really feeling the need to curl up and hide away somewhere.
At my lesson yesterday, my professor made a joke about me needing to get over myself. It’s really stuck with me. Upset me. I can’t seem to tease out why. It was one of those meant to be funny like a joke but was just too edgy to dismiss. It’s hard to write about. But I think this is a kind of thing that comes up for me.
I think about it, and the incident was over the way I had notated something in the score of my piece. He let me know that the right way to do it was blah blah, and he showed me how. And that was fine. I let him know the reason why I did it the other way was to save myself time and to keep the music looking neat. At which point he told me to get over myself. Like, it’s a hey, “hey you don’t get to be special, do it the way everybody does it” kind of thing.
Curious. That I should be feeling so isolated and alone, the day after being slapped down for supposedly asserting my different-ness.
I don’t see it that way. And it’s weird to me that I should slapped down for being different when there’s so much non-standard notation out there anyway. But that’s not the point. There’s something in me that hurts really bad when I get told (or when I hear) that I’m not special. What is that about? Something to talk to the therapist about, for sure.
* * *
I woke up really angry this morning. On the way in to work, there was a wave of depression. I don’t know how much of it is from the dream. There’s also some stressful stuff going on in my life—my work is moving to a new building. That’s stressful, but more so because of how it’s stressful for everyone around me. I try to not let other people’s issues affect me, but I’m not as good at it as I wish I were. I’m just really feeling the need to curl up and hide away somewhere.
* * *
At my lesson yesterday, my professor made a joke about me needing to get over myself. It’s really stuck with me. Upset me. I can’t seem to tease out why. It was one of those meant to be funny like a joke but was just too edgy to dismiss. It’s hard to write about. But I think this is a kind of thing that comes up for me.
I think about it, and the incident was over the way I had notated something in the score of my piece. He let me know that the right way to do it was blah blah, and he showed me how. And that was fine. I let him know the reason why I did it the other way was to save myself time and to keep the music looking neat. At which point he told me to get over myself. Like, it’s a hey, “hey you don’t get to be special, do it the way everybody does it” kind of thing.
Curious. That I should be feeling so isolated and alone, the day after being slapped down for supposedly asserting my different-ness.
I don’t see it that way. And it’s weird to me that I should slapped down for being different when there’s so much non-standard notation out there anyway. But that’s not the point. There’s something in me that hurts really bad when I get told (or when I hear) that I’m not special. What is that about? Something to talk to the therapist about, for sure.
“Crazy Dream: Alien Invasion (?)”
I had a crazy dream last night. It’s pretty sketchy now, but I’ll do my best.
I was riding in a car in the passenger seat. The driver was a woman I sort of know; she’s the daughter of a friend I’ve lost track of. Mid-twenties. Sometimes it feels like there’s an attraction between us. In the dream, that was definitely happening. Anyway, it was night time and I was riding in the car with her. Muscle-car kind of car. I think it was hers. There was some kind of military action going on, because there was lots of air force planes flying. They were gray. I remember specifically seeing an SR-71 blackbird, but it was gray two. Something about how the planes flew was different; the wings moved almost like birds.
Definitely at one point we had a spin out and got thrown from the car. No big deal, nobody hurt. One of the seats from the car got thrown out too, so I picked it up and carried it back, chiding myself afterward for only being nice/helpful because I was attracted to her. At times there was lots of traffic. At one point we were even stopped behind a long line because there were alien ships above us. There was a point when we turned down a side road to try and go around and got stopped to wait (I don’t remember the reason) and the brush slowly crept out until there was a wall of it blocking the road.
There’s more stuff that is embarrassing to write. As time went on and she wasn’t responding to my advances, like towards the end of the dream I started to take out my penis (I had a shirt on but no pants, just boxer shorts). Not sure at all why or what that was about, but it is REALLY embarrassing to write about, even here in this space for just myself.
I’m big on dream interpretation, but I’m at a loss for what all this means. I’m going to look up some symbol interpretations:
I’m not sure I’m fully awake enough to put this together. I may need to come back to it later. I’m also really emotional today. Woke up angry, felt sharp pangs of depression on the way in to work. I’ll close here and write another entry to cover all that.
I was riding in a car in the passenger seat. The driver was a woman I sort of know; she’s the daughter of a friend I’ve lost track of. Mid-twenties. Sometimes it feels like there’s an attraction between us. In the dream, that was definitely happening. Anyway, it was night time and I was riding in the car with her. Muscle-car kind of car. I think it was hers. There was some kind of military action going on, because there was lots of air force planes flying. They were gray. I remember specifically seeing an SR-71 blackbird, but it was gray two. Something about how the planes flew was different; the wings moved almost like birds.
Definitely at one point we had a spin out and got thrown from the car. No big deal, nobody hurt. One of the seats from the car got thrown out too, so I picked it up and carried it back, chiding myself afterward for only being nice/helpful because I was attracted to her. At times there was lots of traffic. At one point we were even stopped behind a long line because there were alien ships above us. There was a point when we turned down a side road to try and go around and got stopped to wait (I don’t remember the reason) and the brush slowly crept out until there was a wall of it blocking the road.
There’s more stuff that is embarrassing to write. As time went on and she wasn’t responding to my advances, like towards the end of the dream I started to take out my penis (I had a shirt on but no pants, just boxer shorts). Not sure at all why or what that was about, but it is REALLY embarrassing to write about, even here in this space for just myself.
I’m big on dream interpretation, but I’m at a loss for what all this means. I’m going to look up some symbol interpretations:
- Gray - indicates fear, fright, depression, ill health, ambivalence and confusion. You may feel emotionally distant isolated, or detached. Alternatively, the color gray symbolizes your individualism.
- Car Accident - to dream of a car accident symbolizes your emotional state. You may be harboring deep anxieties and fears. Are you "driving" yourself too hard?
- Car - to dream that you are driving a car denotes your ambition, your drive and your ability to navigate from one stage of your life to another. Consider how smooth or rough the car ride is. If you are driving the car, then you are taking an active role in the way your life is going. However, if you are the passenger, then you are taking a passive role.
- Night - to have a dream that takes place at night represents some major setbacks and obstacles in achieving your goals. You are being faced with an issue that is not so clear cut. Perhaps, you should put the issues aside so you can clear your head and come back to it later. Alternatively, night may be synonymous with death, rebirth, reflection, and new beginnings.
- War - to dream of a war signifies disorder and chaos in your waking life. You are experiencing some internal conflict or emotional struggle which is tearing you up inside. Alternatively, the dream indicates that you are either being overly aggressive or that you are not being assertive enough. Perhaps you need to be prepared to put up a fight in some area of your life.
- Spaceship - to see a spaceship in your dream symbolizes your creative mind. It denotes a spiritual journey into the unknown and signals self-development and self-awareness.
- UFO - to see a UFO in your dream signifies your desires to find your spiritual purpose in life. Alternatively, it indicates that you are feeling alienated from those around you.
- Aliens ((I never really saw any aliens, and the dream was really about this, but…) - to dream that you are an alien symbolizes the undiscovered part of yourself. Your manifestation as an alien may be your way of "escaping" from reality. Dreams of this nature also symbolize your outlandish ideas and your wild imagination. To dream that you are being invaded or abducted by aliens indicates your fear of your changing surroundings or your fear of losing your home and family. You feel that your space and/or privacy is being invaded. To see aliens in your dream signify that you are having difficulties adapting and adjusting to your new surroundings. You are feeling "alienated" and disconnected. You may also be having difficulties with how to handle or deal with a certain situation or person. On a psychological level, seeing aliens represent an encounter with an unfamiliar or neglected aspect of your own self.
I’m not sure I’m fully awake enough to put this together. I may need to come back to it later. I’m also really emotional today. Woke up angry, felt sharp pangs of depression on the way in to work. I’ll close here and write another entry to cover all that.
Monday, October 28, 2013
“School/Music Stuff”
I’m excited! I believe I’m all set to have one of my pieces performed on this fall’s new music concert series. I’ve secured my players, gotten them parts and an example recording, and I’ve filled out the paperwork. I’ve got my composition lesson tonight, so I’ll make sure then that everything’s set. This will be the first performance of my music since my opera was done by Goat Hall back in June of 2009, and the first time any new composition has been performed in over a decade.
The piece I’m writing this semester is progressing. Even though the plan is for it to be performed in the spring, my comp professor thinks we’ll be able to get the university’s resident woodwind quintet to workshop it and maybe even program one of the movements on the end-of-semester student composers’ recital. I’m really pleased with this piece. It’s tough to describe why. There’s something very professional about it, there’s a quality there I’m very happy about. But also, I feel I’ve put a lot of myself into it, there’s passion and beauty and humor.
Things are also going well in my seminar. My writing is getting a lot of compliments, which is nice. It is a LOT of work, though. Things are starting to lighten up so that we can devote more time to our research projects, which is nice to have less to work on week-to-week, but the research writing has proved very difficult for me—even though my professor and colleagues are complimentary of that writing as well. I’ve also managed to become sick of my topic. Well, not in the totally disgusted sense, but more in the ‘ugh, not THIS paper again!’ sense. And I have plenty more writing still to do. I also seem to have serious difficulty writing program notes, and that has become a real annoyance. Oh well, can’t be good at everything.
I have other more minor music projects going. Dad finally finished the recordings he had wanted to do. Over the past couple years, he’s been coming over to record his guitar and singing. I’ve mixed more than half his album, and would really like to finish that up so that he could make CDs for everyone for Christmas. I also keep on working on the last CD I made of singer-songwriter tunes that I gave to everyone last year. I was never very happy with how it came out and keep re-working it. Maybe someday I’ll call that one ‘finished’ as well.
The semester is more than half over. I’ll be glad when it is, even though I’m enjoying it so much. It’s hard, it’s a lot of work. There is a part of me that wishes I wasn’t working, and that school was the only thing I was doing. But there’s also a part of me who feels really good about making this more gradual transition, continuing to keep my finances in order. With all the stresses going on in my life, not having to worry about money is a huge deal.
I’m planning a trip come December down to southern California as a reward to myself for getting through the semester. There’s a medieval art exhibit—stained glass windows and illuminated manuscripts—that I really want to go see. While I’m there, I think I’ll hang out on the Santa Monica pier as well. Never been there. I’ve learned it’s important to reward yourself, and a vacation sounds like a really good idea. The last one I had, I barely remember except for the fact that I didn’t really go anywhere or do anything except just be off of work for a week. Spending time down south, hang out on the beach? Sounds like a great idea.
The piece I’m writing this semester is progressing. Even though the plan is for it to be performed in the spring, my comp professor thinks we’ll be able to get the university’s resident woodwind quintet to workshop it and maybe even program one of the movements on the end-of-semester student composers’ recital. I’m really pleased with this piece. It’s tough to describe why. There’s something very professional about it, there’s a quality there I’m very happy about. But also, I feel I’ve put a lot of myself into it, there’s passion and beauty and humor.
Things are also going well in my seminar. My writing is getting a lot of compliments, which is nice. It is a LOT of work, though. Things are starting to lighten up so that we can devote more time to our research projects, which is nice to have less to work on week-to-week, but the research writing has proved very difficult for me—even though my professor and colleagues are complimentary of that writing as well. I’ve also managed to become sick of my topic. Well, not in the totally disgusted sense, but more in the ‘ugh, not THIS paper again!’ sense. And I have plenty more writing still to do. I also seem to have serious difficulty writing program notes, and that has become a real annoyance. Oh well, can’t be good at everything.
I have other more minor music projects going. Dad finally finished the recordings he had wanted to do. Over the past couple years, he’s been coming over to record his guitar and singing. I’ve mixed more than half his album, and would really like to finish that up so that he could make CDs for everyone for Christmas. I also keep on working on the last CD I made of singer-songwriter tunes that I gave to everyone last year. I was never very happy with how it came out and keep re-working it. Maybe someday I’ll call that one ‘finished’ as well.
The semester is more than half over. I’ll be glad when it is, even though I’m enjoying it so much. It’s hard, it’s a lot of work. There is a part of me that wishes I wasn’t working, and that school was the only thing I was doing. But there’s also a part of me who feels really good about making this more gradual transition, continuing to keep my finances in order. With all the stresses going on in my life, not having to worry about money is a huge deal.
I’m planning a trip come December down to southern California as a reward to myself for getting through the semester. There’s a medieval art exhibit—stained glass windows and illuminated manuscripts—that I really want to go see. While I’m there, I think I’ll hang out on the Santa Monica pier as well. Never been there. I’ve learned it’s important to reward yourself, and a vacation sounds like a really good idea. The last one I had, I barely remember except for the fact that I didn’t really go anywhere or do anything except just be off of work for a week. Spending time down south, hang out on the beach? Sounds like a great idea.
Sunday, October 27, 2013
“INFJ – Friendship”
INFJ friends are likely to be very insightful, warm and caring. It will not be easy to get to know them well as INFJ personalities hide their true thoughts deep within their minds – however, if their friends are determined enough to work on the friendship, its strength and depth will be remarkable. This personality type is very enigmatic and difficult to decipher yet able to see through other people’s masks very easily. Authenticity and sincerity are extremely important if you want to become friends with an INFJ.
INFJs are not really interested in friendships which mostly revolve around practical, daily matters or physical activities. They are quiet yet very determined idealists, brimming with desire to make the world a better place. Therefore, INFJ personalities are likely to seek friends who are willing to let a bit of idealism into their lives and engage in deep, meaningful discussions about things that go beyond the daily routines.
INFJ friends also tend to be relatively perfectionistic, which can be both a very positive and a very negative trait when it comes to relationships. On one hand, the INFJ will seek to grow and develop together with their close friends, seeking out life-enriching experiences. On the other hand, this tendency to always reach for the ideal may exhaust people with different personality types, as they may not have the same stamina and determination that the INFJ possesses. Consequently, the INFJ may keep moving from one friend to another, hoping that the next one will be more similar to them than the last.
INFJs should remember that they have an extremely rare personality type and not get frustrated if their friends do not share 100% of their principles or goals. INFJ personalities seek friends that they can trust, and who are both willing and able to understand their passions and ideas. Not many people can cope with the depth and richness of the INFJ’s imagination, and even fewer can support the INFJ in the way that they need. INFJs tend to be very loyal and supportive friends, and are sought out by many other personality types for their wisdom, but they need to learn how to meet potential new friends halfway.
As INFJs are generally eloquent and persuasive, they tend to be quite popular and influential. The INFJs themselves are often quite bemused by this, as they are very private individuals who do not really need nor enjoy the attention. It is likely that the INFJ will only have a few true friends, but those friends will value the INFJ’s companionship very highly.
INFJs are not really interested in friendships which mostly revolve around practical, daily matters or physical activities. They are quiet yet very determined idealists, brimming with desire to make the world a better place. Therefore, INFJ personalities are likely to seek friends who are willing to let a bit of idealism into their lives and engage in deep, meaningful discussions about things that go beyond the daily routines.
INFJ friends also tend to be relatively perfectionistic, which can be both a very positive and a very negative trait when it comes to relationships. On one hand, the INFJ will seek to grow and develop together with their close friends, seeking out life-enriching experiences. On the other hand, this tendency to always reach for the ideal may exhaust people with different personality types, as they may not have the same stamina and determination that the INFJ possesses. Consequently, the INFJ may keep moving from one friend to another, hoping that the next one will be more similar to them than the last.
INFJs should remember that they have an extremely rare personality type and not get frustrated if their friends do not share 100% of their principles or goals. INFJ personalities seek friends that they can trust, and who are both willing and able to understand their passions and ideas. Not many people can cope with the depth and richness of the INFJ’s imagination, and even fewer can support the INFJ in the way that they need. INFJs tend to be very loyal and supportive friends, and are sought out by many other personality types for their wisdom, but they need to learn how to meet potential new friends halfway.
As INFJs are generally eloquent and persuasive, they tend to be quite popular and influential. The INFJs themselves are often quite bemused by this, as they are very private individuals who do not really need nor enjoy the attention. It is likely that the INFJ will only have a few true friends, but those friends will value the INFJ’s companionship very highly.
“INFJ – Relationships and Dating”
INFJs are warm and caring partners, able to love unconditionally and show that love to their partners. They tend to be perfectionists and this can sometimes irritate their partners – however, such a tendency also shows how sincere and serious INFJs can be. INFJ relationships often reach the level of depth that most people could only dream of.
INFJs possess the ability to see behind the obvious, to clearly understand the idea behind the process. They are extraordinarily insightful and able to sense other people’s thoughts, desires and emotions very easily – this is an incredible strength in romantic relationships and helps INFJs a lot during the dating phase.
INFJs can act wisely and spontaneously even in the face of unforeseen events, in contrast to traditional and less flexible S types. INFJs’ dating and relationship partners can expect to be pleasantly surprised over and over again.
It is hard to manipulate an INFJ as they evaluate the motives of other people very carefully, especially when dating. It is very rare that INFJ is tricked or talked into something they did not want. Nevertheless, the INFJs are friendly and full of compassion, even though they can be very picky when it comes to choosing their dating partners. A relationship with an INFJ is a connection that simply cannot be described in everyday terms.
From the sexual perspective, INFJs look at the intimacy as an excellent opportunity to express their love and make their partner happy. They enjoy becoming one with their partner, physically and spiritually, even if just for a short while. INFJs’ emotions are incredibly powerful and they cherish the idea of expressing them in this way – people with this personality type are likely to be very passionate and enthusiastic partners.
Preferred partners: ENFP and ENTP types, as their EP traits compensate the introvert and judgmental tendencies of INFJs. INTJs are also a very strong match as the intuitive connection between INFJ and INTJ is likely to be instantaneous.
INFJs possess the ability to see behind the obvious, to clearly understand the idea behind the process. They are extraordinarily insightful and able to sense other people’s thoughts, desires and emotions very easily – this is an incredible strength in romantic relationships and helps INFJs a lot during the dating phase.
INFJs can act wisely and spontaneously even in the face of unforeseen events, in contrast to traditional and less flexible S types. INFJs’ dating and relationship partners can expect to be pleasantly surprised over and over again.
It is hard to manipulate an INFJ as they evaluate the motives of other people very carefully, especially when dating. It is very rare that INFJ is tricked or talked into something they did not want. Nevertheless, the INFJs are friendly and full of compassion, even though they can be very picky when it comes to choosing their dating partners. A relationship with an INFJ is a connection that simply cannot be described in everyday terms.
From the sexual perspective, INFJs look at the intimacy as an excellent opportunity to express their love and make their partner happy. They enjoy becoming one with their partner, physically and spiritually, even if just for a short while. INFJs’ emotions are incredibly powerful and they cherish the idea of expressing them in this way – people with this personality type are likely to be very passionate and enthusiastic partners.
Preferred partners: ENFP and ENTP types, as their EP traits compensate the introvert and judgmental tendencies of INFJs. INTJs are also a very strong match as the intuitive connection between INFJ and INTJ is likely to be instantaneous.
“INFJ – Strengths and Weaknesses”
INFJ strengths
- Determined and passionate. INFJ personalities work very hard for causes they believe in. This passion can easily surprise people not used to seeing this side of the INFJ, but it is an inseparable part of their personality.
- Altruistic. It is very rare to see an INFJ do something just for their personal benefit. People with this personality type tend to be very warm and altruistic, even though these traits may not be clearly visible.
- Decisive. This is one of the most important strengths of any INFJ. Their imagination, combined with decisiveness, usually allows INFJs to achieve incredible things – not only they can come up with interesting and unusual ideas, they also have the willpower and planning skills necessary to implement those ideas.
- Creative. INFJs possess a vivid imagination and rarely have any difficulties expressing it in one way or another. Most of their solutions revolve around people or ideals, as opposed to technical strategies – this strength makes INFJ personalities excellent counselors and advisors.
- Inspiring and convincing. People with the INFJ personality type know their way with words and are known for their fluid, inspirational writing style. INFJs can also be convincing speakers, especially if they are talking about something they are very proud of or passionate about.
- Very insightful. INFJs find it easy to decipher other people’s motives and are rarely affected by manipulation or sales tactics. They tend to know instantly whether someone is being honest. This strength shields their sensitive inner core, protecting the INFJ from disappointment.
INFJ weaknesses
- Extremely private. INFJs may appear expressive and passionate, but they are actually very private individuals. People with this personality type often find it quite difficult to trust a new friend or open up, even to people who are closest to them.
- Can burn out easily. That strength and passion that INFJ personalities are known for can exhaust them quickly if they are not careful. INFJs also tend to internalize most of their feelings – this trait is not necessarily a weakness, but it deprives them of the “exhaust valve”.
- Very sensitive. INFJs are highly vulnerable to criticism and conflict situations, and can get hurt very easily. People with this personality type are also likely to react strongly to anything that challenges their inner principles and values.
- Perfectionistic. INFJ personalities are inherently idealistic and do their best to achieve their ideals. This is a great trait, but it can quickly become a weakness if the same approach is applied in every area of life. For instance, INFJs may find it difficult to settle down in a romantic relationship, always looking for an ideal partner.
- Always need to have a cause. INFJs may find it difficult to focus and force themselves to complete tasks which are not linked to one of their goals, e.g. some routine administrative work that must be carried out. People with this personality type always want to know that they are moving towards a worthy goal, and may feel disappointed and restless if this is not the case.
“INFJ”
When I had my personality assessment done as part of the career counseling, I came out as an INFJ. I'm actually just barely over the line between INFJ and INFP, but the INFJ does seem more like me. I've found a site that I really like their write-ups, so I'll make repositories here. That way, I know where the info is if I want to reference it in the future.
The INFJ type is believed to be very rare (less than 1 percent of the population) and it has an unusual set of traits. Even though their presence can be described as very quiet, INFJ personalities usually have many strong opinions, especially when it comes to issues they consider really important in life. If an INFJ is fighting for something, this is because they believe in the idea itself, not because of some selfish reasons.
INFJ personalities are drawn towards helping those in need – they may rush to the place of a major disaster, participate in rescue efforts, do charity work etc. INFJs see this as their duty and their purpose in life – people with this personality type firmly believe that nothing else would help the world as much as getting rid of all the tyrants. Karma and similar concepts are very attractive to INFJs.
These tendencies are also strengthened by the fact that INFJ personalities have a unique combination of idealism and decisiveness – this means that their creativity and imagination can be directed towards a specific goal. Few other personality types have this trait and this is one of the most important reasons why many INFJs are able to eventually realize their dreams and make a lasting positive impact.
INFJs are masters of written communication, with a distinctively smooth and warm language. In addition, the sensitivity of INFJs allows them to connect to others quite easily. Their easy and pleasant communication can often mislead bystanders, who might think that the INFJ is actually an extrovert.
INFJs should be careful to avoid “overheating” as their zeal and determination can sometimes get out of hand. As introverts, INFJs need to have some “alone time” every once in a while or otherwise their internal energy reserves will get depleted really quickly. If this happens, the INFJ may surprise everybody around them by withdrawing from all their activities for a while – and since other people usually see INFJs as extroverts, this can leave them both surprised and concerned.
INFJs take great care of other people’s feelings and expect others to return the favor. Unsurprisingly, people with this personality type are very sensitive and vulnerable to conflicts – even the most rational INFJs may find it quite difficult to not take criticism personally. This is the INFJ’s Achilles’ heel – if someone with an INFJ personality cannot escape the conflict, they will do their best to deal with it head on, but this will result in a lot of stress and may also potentially lead to health problems or highly irrational behavior.
The INFJ type is believed to be very rare (less than 1 percent of the population) and it has an unusual set of traits. Even though their presence can be described as very quiet, INFJ personalities usually have many strong opinions, especially when it comes to issues they consider really important in life. If an INFJ is fighting for something, this is because they believe in the idea itself, not because of some selfish reasons.
INFJ personalities are drawn towards helping those in need – they may rush to the place of a major disaster, participate in rescue efforts, do charity work etc. INFJs see this as their duty and their purpose in life – people with this personality type firmly believe that nothing else would help the world as much as getting rid of all the tyrants. Karma and similar concepts are very attractive to INFJs.
These tendencies are also strengthened by the fact that INFJ personalities have a unique combination of idealism and decisiveness – this means that their creativity and imagination can be directed towards a specific goal. Few other personality types have this trait and this is one of the most important reasons why many INFJs are able to eventually realize their dreams and make a lasting positive impact.
INFJs are masters of written communication, with a distinctively smooth and warm language. In addition, the sensitivity of INFJs allows them to connect to others quite easily. Their easy and pleasant communication can often mislead bystanders, who might think that the INFJ is actually an extrovert.
INFJs should be careful to avoid “overheating” as their zeal and determination can sometimes get out of hand. As introverts, INFJs need to have some “alone time” every once in a while or otherwise their internal energy reserves will get depleted really quickly. If this happens, the INFJ may surprise everybody around them by withdrawing from all their activities for a while – and since other people usually see INFJs as extroverts, this can leave them both surprised and concerned.
INFJs take great care of other people’s feelings and expect others to return the favor. Unsurprisingly, people with this personality type are very sensitive and vulnerable to conflicts – even the most rational INFJs may find it quite difficult to not take criticism personally. This is the INFJ’s Achilles’ heel – if someone with an INFJ personality cannot escape the conflict, they will do their best to deal with it head on, but this will result in a lot of stress and may also potentially lead to health problems or highly irrational behavior.
Saturday, October 26, 2013
“Accepting A Piece of My Past”
So here’s this: I used to be a drug addict. Now, as someone who’s been through the 12 step program, gone to many meetings, held many service positions, and worked the 12 steps many times, saying it like that—that I “used” to be an addict—is a major faux pas. We’re indoctrinated pretty heavily in the idea that once we are addicted, we are always addicted; there is no cure for The Disease. And I admit, I parroted this line as well.
These days, I have a much more relaxed view towards it. I know that the potential for falling back into addiction is within me, but I’ve learned to watch for signs and most importantly that if I take good care of myself and keep a strong spiritual center, I will be alright. Besides, I definitely WAS an addict. That part of my life happened. It can’t be undone, so in that sense, yes I will always be an addict. Am I currently suffering from addiction? Definitely not.
Something my therapist and I stumbled onto early on was how I don’t really have much pride in the fact I’d gotten myself off of substances. I think I mentioned something at the time about how it was the power of the group, or God, things like that which had allowed me to get cleaned up. But she had a really valid point—climbing up out of an addiction, be it to alcohol, drugs, or anything else—is an amazing achievement. Why aren’t I proud of that?
Part of the reason probably lies in how I’m generally not proud of my achievements. That’s something that stems from parents who didn’t display pride in their achievements, and from my own childhood struggles where achieving wasn’t rewarded, was in fact punished by my peers. There’s nothing bullies love more than taunting the top student in class. But there’s another reason, one that I think is much more important, and that I didn’t even realize existed until just recently.
As I walked away from the orchestra concert, I had a really odd moment that really surprised me. I felt a shift inside myself. For the first time, I felt like I truly accepted that I had become a drug addict. It’s the weirdest thing. I mean, I’ve been through the steps many times, and the first part of working 12-steps is acceptance of how you’ve become an addict. Which I did do. So the acceptance I’m talking about is deeper than that.
Maybe it isn’t acceptance so much that I felt the other night, but compassion and forgiveness for myself. It’s almost like I had finally fully integrated the fact that becoming an addict had been a part of my life, and accepting myself and having compassion for myself, and forgiveness, was a part of the whole deal. The compassion especially. Because even though I had intellectually understood the reasons why I had gone down that path, I really believe that it wasn’t until the other night that I was okay with who I had been.
Self-acceptance. I gotta credit the therapy on this one. I’m not sure how it’s related, except only that I’m more clearly able to see what life had been like for me and have compassion for myself for what I’ve been through. I have joked in the past about how, with what I’d been through in life, is it any wonder that I became an addict? But for the first time I really feel that myself with a genuine acceptance and compassion for myself.
You know what? It’s almost like I’ve stopped judging and blaming myself for it. I’ve stopped being so hard on myself about it. It's a relief.
These days, I have a much more relaxed view towards it. I know that the potential for falling back into addiction is within me, but I’ve learned to watch for signs and most importantly that if I take good care of myself and keep a strong spiritual center, I will be alright. Besides, I definitely WAS an addict. That part of my life happened. It can’t be undone, so in that sense, yes I will always be an addict. Am I currently suffering from addiction? Definitely not.
Something my therapist and I stumbled onto early on was how I don’t really have much pride in the fact I’d gotten myself off of substances. I think I mentioned something at the time about how it was the power of the group, or God, things like that which had allowed me to get cleaned up. But she had a really valid point—climbing up out of an addiction, be it to alcohol, drugs, or anything else—is an amazing achievement. Why aren’t I proud of that?
Part of the reason probably lies in how I’m generally not proud of my achievements. That’s something that stems from parents who didn’t display pride in their achievements, and from my own childhood struggles where achieving wasn’t rewarded, was in fact punished by my peers. There’s nothing bullies love more than taunting the top student in class. But there’s another reason, one that I think is much more important, and that I didn’t even realize existed until just recently.
As I walked away from the orchestra concert, I had a really odd moment that really surprised me. I felt a shift inside myself. For the first time, I felt like I truly accepted that I had become a drug addict. It’s the weirdest thing. I mean, I’ve been through the steps many times, and the first part of working 12-steps is acceptance of how you’ve become an addict. Which I did do. So the acceptance I’m talking about is deeper than that.
Maybe it isn’t acceptance so much that I felt the other night, but compassion and forgiveness for myself. It’s almost like I had finally fully integrated the fact that becoming an addict had been a part of my life, and accepting myself and having compassion for myself, and forgiveness, was a part of the whole deal. The compassion especially. Because even though I had intellectually understood the reasons why I had gone down that path, I really believe that it wasn’t until the other night that I was okay with who I had been.
Self-acceptance. I gotta credit the therapy on this one. I’m not sure how it’s related, except only that I’m more clearly able to see what life had been like for me and have compassion for myself for what I’ve been through. I have joked in the past about how, with what I’d been through in life, is it any wonder that I became an addict? But for the first time I really feel that myself with a genuine acceptance and compassion for myself.
You know what? It’s almost like I’ve stopped judging and blaming myself for it. I’ve stopped being so hard on myself about it. It's a relief.
Friday, October 25, 2013
“Round Peg In A Square Hole”
The noise of how I don’t belong here at work is really loud some days. Again, it’s not a feeling of not belonging like I don’t fit in or am not accepted (although my self-sabotaging brain does feed me that nonsense, too). It’s a feeling of I know this isn’t what I was meant to do, and trying to do it makes me go bonkers. I am the round peg, this day job is the square hole. Just as you can take a hammer and slam a round peg into a square hole, I can force myself to fit in it to this scheme of things, but it is unnatural for me to the point of absurdity. And to be forced into the square hole means I must reshape myself almost beyond recognition.
Maybe that’s why work hurts so bad—my soul is being mashed up and distorted.
This week I went to an orchestra performance. I’m so glad I did. I got to see one of my colleagues conduct a piece, and one of the other pieces on the concert was Rimsky-Korsakov’s Scheherazade. That’s such a beautiful piece. It was definitely inspiring; got me thinking about writing a similar type of thing, only instead of adapting ‘1001 Arabian Nights’, I would use Ray Bradbury’s ‘Illustrated Man’. Maybe that’s the genesis of a piece to write for a doctorate?
When I first started my classes this fall, my composition professor had some great advice. He talked about looking at the whole of my master’s degree program. Instead of writing a thesis, what I will be doing is composing a ‘significant’ work. I decided quickly and easily that I want to write a piece for full orchestra, and so each of my other pieces I’ll be working on through the semesters will be building towards that.
Hearing the full orchestra play was amazing. I love that sound. And it was inspiring, and felt so good, so right. I’d listen to the pieces as they were performed and hear the changes and the compositions moving through their different shapes and colors, motives and progressions, and I got this big grin on my face. It was such a joy.
Earlier in the evening, I’d talked with a performer and I think I’ve lined up the last player I need in order to have one of my pieces performed on a concert coming up next month, and that put me in an almost giddy state. I’m still excited from it.
Maybe that’s why work is becoming more of a challenge for me. As I realign myself back to who I really am, to the life I was on track for before . . . life happened, it’s becoming more and more difficult to keep up this façade of pretending like this day job thing, place, whatever is somewhere that it’s appropriate for me to be.
Maybe that’s why work hurts so bad—my soul is being mashed up and distorted.
This week I went to an orchestra performance. I’m so glad I did. I got to see one of my colleagues conduct a piece, and one of the other pieces on the concert was Rimsky-Korsakov’s Scheherazade. That’s such a beautiful piece. It was definitely inspiring; got me thinking about writing a similar type of thing, only instead of adapting ‘1001 Arabian Nights’, I would use Ray Bradbury’s ‘Illustrated Man’. Maybe that’s the genesis of a piece to write for a doctorate?
When I first started my classes this fall, my composition professor had some great advice. He talked about looking at the whole of my master’s degree program. Instead of writing a thesis, what I will be doing is composing a ‘significant’ work. I decided quickly and easily that I want to write a piece for full orchestra, and so each of my other pieces I’ll be working on through the semesters will be building towards that.
Hearing the full orchestra play was amazing. I love that sound. And it was inspiring, and felt so good, so right. I’d listen to the pieces as they were performed and hear the changes and the compositions moving through their different shapes and colors, motives and progressions, and I got this big grin on my face. It was such a joy.
Earlier in the evening, I’d talked with a performer and I think I’ve lined up the last player I need in order to have one of my pieces performed on a concert coming up next month, and that put me in an almost giddy state. I’m still excited from it.
Maybe that’s why work is becoming more of a challenge for me. As I realign myself back to who I really am, to the life I was on track for before . . . life happened, it’s becoming more and more difficult to keep up this façade of pretending like this day job thing, place, whatever is somewhere that it’s appropriate for me to be.
Thursday, October 24, 2013
“Taking Stock – More on Work”
So it’s like this for me: work hurts. No, I’m not some namby-pamby white boy complaining about his decaf latte being too hot. And no, I’m not saying my boss boxes my ears or my coworkers talk shit to my face that hurts my feelings. I’m trying to describe something that is hard to describe. Like, because I feel right out the gate that there’s no point in explaining it because no one could possibly understand.
Work hurts. Here, I wonder if I can find some metaphor. It hurts the way I imagine a fresh water fish would feel if it suddenly found itself in the ocean. Maybe? It’s a kind of pressure, coupled with this fight or flight response that I have to keep clamped down on. As though some small part of me is constantly screaming and crying in horror and disbelief at how this really is what my life is. It’s absurd, says the real me when I give him permission to speak—but only quickly and be polite about it, now.
But that still doesn’t get at the heart of it. I guess I don’t know how to describe it. Except to call it pressure. A squeezing. Maybe like being trapped, except my body is the cage? Or the space around my body? Free association is failing today.
I remember being young and in school and dreading facing each day, crying to my mom how I didn’t want to go. That feeling, of dread and of pain and of hurt and helplessness. I remember mom’s reply well, that sometimes we do things we don’t want to do because we have to do them. That was her help. I’m a scared, hurting little kid, terrified of going to school to be tormented by bullies and where I had no friends, and all the hell that daily school like entailed for me, and all mom had to say was that?!?! Inadequate, at best. And it’s not that she wasn’t sympathetic, she just didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know anything that could help.
And so of course I have instilled in me this idea that I have to be miserable. If I wake up feeling like I don’t want to go do this thing that’s making me miserable, well then I’d best get on with it! Because that’s what we do in this bizarro world I live in, we go do the things that make us unhappy, Because!
I’m like a pot kept on permanent simmer, which occasionally feels it’s about to boil. And very rarely actually does boil over. It didn’t use to be like that. It used to boil over all the time.
This is just so insane. So ridiculous. I cannot believe this is my life. And yet it is. It’s gotten me some good things. But when I step back and look around, I’m left thinking What The Fuck. Strange, isn’t it? I can handle growing older, though I wonder if I will continue to. I can handle being single, though the loneliness has its own brand of hurt, too. But to look objectively at my work situation, what I do day in day out, is just . . . practically incomprehensible to me.
I wonder too if that doesn’t play into my achievement in school. Maybe I work extra hard at it because I am so desperate to do what I really want to do with my life. Maybe a big portion of my drive and determination to Become comes from this revulsion to where I’m at.
Work hurts. Here, I wonder if I can find some metaphor. It hurts the way I imagine a fresh water fish would feel if it suddenly found itself in the ocean. Maybe? It’s a kind of pressure, coupled with this fight or flight response that I have to keep clamped down on. As though some small part of me is constantly screaming and crying in horror and disbelief at how this really is what my life is. It’s absurd, says the real me when I give him permission to speak—but only quickly and be polite about it, now.
But that still doesn’t get at the heart of it. I guess I don’t know how to describe it. Except to call it pressure. A squeezing. Maybe like being trapped, except my body is the cage? Or the space around my body? Free association is failing today.
I remember being young and in school and dreading facing each day, crying to my mom how I didn’t want to go. That feeling, of dread and of pain and of hurt and helplessness. I remember mom’s reply well, that sometimes we do things we don’t want to do because we have to do them. That was her help. I’m a scared, hurting little kid, terrified of going to school to be tormented by bullies and where I had no friends, and all the hell that daily school like entailed for me, and all mom had to say was that?!?! Inadequate, at best. And it’s not that she wasn’t sympathetic, she just didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know anything that could help.
And so of course I have instilled in me this idea that I have to be miserable. If I wake up feeling like I don’t want to go do this thing that’s making me miserable, well then I’d best get on with it! Because that’s what we do in this bizarro world I live in, we go do the things that make us unhappy, Because!
I’m like a pot kept on permanent simmer, which occasionally feels it’s about to boil. And very rarely actually does boil over. It didn’t use to be like that. It used to boil over all the time.
This is just so insane. So ridiculous. I cannot believe this is my life. And yet it is. It’s gotten me some good things. But when I step back and look around, I’m left thinking What The Fuck. Strange, isn’t it? I can handle growing older, though I wonder if I will continue to. I can handle being single, though the loneliness has its own brand of hurt, too. But to look objectively at my work situation, what I do day in day out, is just . . . practically incomprehensible to me.
I wonder too if that doesn’t play into my achievement in school. Maybe I work extra hard at it because I am so desperate to do what I really want to do with my life. Maybe a big portion of my drive and determination to Become comes from this revulsion to where I’m at.
“Taking Stock – Work”
I have a day job. Which is to say, I have a job that I go to Monday through Friday from 8 to 5 because I need money. It drives me crazy. Most people’s jobs drive them crazy. Most people hate their work, and their boss, and have completely disengaged at this place they spend roughly a third of their day at. But I don’t like to remember that. If I remember that everyone hates their job, then I tell myself that there’s nothing special about me, that I have to keep on doing this thing that I hate, that I have no choice and to stop whining because everyone’s in the same boat.
About a year and a half ago, I took a class offered through my work. It was one of those career advisement types of things. I was really miserable in my previous position, was thinking about making a career change, and thought the class would help. It did, but not quite in the way I expected. Before the class, all us participants went through a personality assessment and a strong-interest inventory to see what kind of people we were and what our favorite jobs might be. When I got to the class and told the instructors my personality choice and what I do for a living, they chuckled and said, “no seriously, what do you do?” And when I told them that’s what I really do, well, they realized I really was serious and they sort of blanched. Then I got some good career counseling afterwards.
As long as I can remember, I’ve been unhappy in my jobs. There were always reasons, sometimes the place was corrupt, or it was my coworkers, sometimes the boss, or some combination of the three. But when I signed up for that class, I had already begun to suspect that my unhappiness was more than just because of the environment. The common thread in all those bad situations was me. It may be that I worked with and for horrible people in horrible situations, but there was a much more basic issue at play: me and my choices. Taking that career advisement class, seeing how unsuited my personality is for the jobs I've spent my life doing, was a huge eye opener.
It’s still hard for me to get a grip on this idea that I don’t belong in the type of job I’m in. I don’t belong in an office environment. It’s one of the things that my personality is the least suited towards. This difficulty I have, it’s not because I have a hard time accepting how miserable I am working these day jobs, it’s hard because part of my basic in-the-brain programming is that this day job crap is something I have to do. Like breathing. It’s not optional.
This is another area where the work I’m doing with the therapist has been helpful too. I used to think that I worked a day job because I’d been taught that this is how you’re supposed to live life: you get a job that pays you well enough that you don’t have to stress too much over money, or at the very least allows you to provide for yourself. But! What if that’s not why I do this, what if that’s not what has kept me under the fluorescents all these years? What if the reason I fell into this rut of a life choice is nothing more simple than it also was what was modeled for me? Maybe the reason I have such a hard time setting boundaries on a job or a type of work that I’m miserable at is because I watched my own parents (and my dad in particular) be miserable at their jobs. God, I remember dad having migraines from trying to deal with his work. So of course I’m miserable, that’s what work is—it’s what you do every day that makes you miserable because you have to. Period.
A couple months ago I also made a huge change in my life. I started attending a graduate program at my local university. I’ve gone back to school for what I love most—writing music. My bachelor’s degree was in music composition, and if I’m successful at this program then my master’s degree will be, too. I’m making the change. It will take a while, years, but so far the early indications are that this is something I’m really good at. Not just composing, but the academic part as well. And that’s shocked the hell out of me. In a good way. It’s hard, it takes a lot of work, but I’m doing well and that is amazing to me. There are even moments where I let myself feel good about it. (Yes, I mean that seriously.)
I’m still working the day job. My current boss is a control freak, pushy, breath down your neck just a little too often type. But she’s better than the coward I used to work for, and my coworkers here aren’t too bad. Basically, this current job is tolerable. It pays well enough, and I’ve learned to handle my finances well which is something I’m very proud of. All of that doesn’t stop me from thinking about quitting from time to time, but I sincerely hope that I can just do this during the day while working on the switch to a different kind of life. A life where I’m free to be who I really am. ‘Cause this work in a cubicle bullshit makes the true me inside just sob.
About a year and a half ago, I took a class offered through my work. It was one of those career advisement types of things. I was really miserable in my previous position, was thinking about making a career change, and thought the class would help. It did, but not quite in the way I expected. Before the class, all us participants went through a personality assessment and a strong-interest inventory to see what kind of people we were and what our favorite jobs might be. When I got to the class and told the instructors my personality choice and what I do for a living, they chuckled and said, “no seriously, what do you do?” And when I told them that’s what I really do, well, they realized I really was serious and they sort of blanched. Then I got some good career counseling afterwards.
As long as I can remember, I’ve been unhappy in my jobs. There were always reasons, sometimes the place was corrupt, or it was my coworkers, sometimes the boss, or some combination of the three. But when I signed up for that class, I had already begun to suspect that my unhappiness was more than just because of the environment. The common thread in all those bad situations was me. It may be that I worked with and for horrible people in horrible situations, but there was a much more basic issue at play: me and my choices. Taking that career advisement class, seeing how unsuited my personality is for the jobs I've spent my life doing, was a huge eye opener.
It’s still hard for me to get a grip on this idea that I don’t belong in the type of job I’m in. I don’t belong in an office environment. It’s one of the things that my personality is the least suited towards. This difficulty I have, it’s not because I have a hard time accepting how miserable I am working these day jobs, it’s hard because part of my basic in-the-brain programming is that this day job crap is something I have to do. Like breathing. It’s not optional.
This is another area where the work I’m doing with the therapist has been helpful too. I used to think that I worked a day job because I’d been taught that this is how you’re supposed to live life: you get a job that pays you well enough that you don’t have to stress too much over money, or at the very least allows you to provide for yourself. But! What if that’s not why I do this, what if that’s not what has kept me under the fluorescents all these years? What if the reason I fell into this rut of a life choice is nothing more simple than it also was what was modeled for me? Maybe the reason I have such a hard time setting boundaries on a job or a type of work that I’m miserable at is because I watched my own parents (and my dad in particular) be miserable at their jobs. God, I remember dad having migraines from trying to deal with his work. So of course I’m miserable, that’s what work is—it’s what you do every day that makes you miserable because you have to. Period.
A couple months ago I also made a huge change in my life. I started attending a graduate program at my local university. I’ve gone back to school for what I love most—writing music. My bachelor’s degree was in music composition, and if I’m successful at this program then my master’s degree will be, too. I’m making the change. It will take a while, years, but so far the early indications are that this is something I’m really good at. Not just composing, but the academic part as well. And that’s shocked the hell out of me. In a good way. It’s hard, it takes a lot of work, but I’m doing well and that is amazing to me. There are even moments where I let myself feel good about it. (Yes, I mean that seriously.)
I’m still working the day job. My current boss is a control freak, pushy, breath down your neck just a little too often type. But she’s better than the coward I used to work for, and my coworkers here aren’t too bad. Basically, this current job is tolerable. It pays well enough, and I’ve learned to handle my finances well which is something I’m very proud of. All of that doesn’t stop me from thinking about quitting from time to time, but I sincerely hope that I can just do this during the day while working on the switch to a different kind of life. A life where I’m free to be who I really am. ‘Cause this work in a cubicle bullshit makes the true me inside just sob.
Wednesday, October 23, 2013
“Taking Stock – Back In Therapy”
I started seeing a new therapist a couple months ago. She’s helping me to go back and establish a new framework for understanding myself. It’s been pretty amazing, actually. We’re focusing a lot on how traits and characteristics that I took on, the way I learned to be, that I didn’t learn those things deliberately. The ways I interacted with the world, and with other people, weren’t so much a result of decisions I had made, but were because I was repeating what was modeled for me by my parents.
This has really been blowing my mind. Some of this, I sort of already knew. I was very sheltered growing up and had pretty much just my parents for examples on how to deal with everything (and I mean that more literally than figuratively). One example: I thought I learned to not fight back against bullies because I was trying to follow the non-violence ideal of my father. But that doesn’t work because it implies more thinking than I was capable of at that age. My brain hadn’t yet developed to the point where I was capable of that type of thinking process. And even if it had, the far more powerful message was his behavioral example of sitting and hunkering down through my mom’s nitpicking. That was the real example I had of how to deal with conflict—shrink down and wait for it to pass. That was the behavior that was modeled for me, so that’s what I learned. That’s what got written in my behavioral programming at an instinctual level.
My parents' interactions are a real insight into my own issues with relationships, too. I’ve done a lot of work on myself in the past, so I already have a lot of pieces to the puzzle: things like understanding how people are drawn to what’s familiar. But the new therapist is helping me really look at those pieces and see how they actually fit together. It’s as though I had pieces before and was sort of able to squash them together, but she’s come along and said, ‘here, let me turn those over for you so that you can see the picture on the other side’ and wouldn’t you know it, the pieces just snap right together.
As I type this, I’m thinking about the nutty women I’ve dated, or more generally all the high-strung uptight women in my life over the years. Just like mom. Dated a lot of tense, uptight, occasionally unstable women? You bet. Well guess who we know that’s just like that? Dated a lot of women with poor boundaries? What. A. Surprise. I’m also trying to use less sarcasm. What I mean to say is, of course many of the women in my life have been like my mom. Not just because she’s my mom and so has had a huge influence, but because of how she is, my sheltered childhood, my absent (but present) father, she had a HUGE influence in forming my concept of what a ‘normal’ woman is like. It’s no wonder I have such difficulty just talking to actually normal women—I’ve got no model for what that conversation is like!
We’ve talked, too, about the things that weren’t modeled for me like how to deal with—regulate—emotions. This has lead to even more ‘well of course’ moments. Of course I was super emotional as a child (and into adulthood, and maybe even still), I had zero examples of how to deal with them. Or, I suppose even more accurately, I had two: the model of total suppression (dad) and random explosiveness (mom). Which, of course, go hand in hand.
Looking at this new framework, the therapist then zeroed in on something else—how angry I am, and very specifically how angry I am because I wasn’t given the tools I needed to deal with life. And even more so how angry I am about the tools I was given being ones that didn’t work. I’d thought I’d dealt with my anger issues, but having her point out my anger to me was like having a blanket pulled off of my head and all of a sudden I could SEE, really SEE, that I was still unbelievably angry. Like, 'see' in the way the Buddhists talk about seeing.
The same thing is true of tension. The therapist and I have talked a lot about the bullying I went through growing up. She started to say I have PTSD from it and I really didn’t like the sound of that. I may have to talk to her some more about that. But I carry a tension, too. How many times have I longed for the ability to relax? How rare has it been in my life that I’ve actually been able to??
I’m hopeful that these old habits can be dealt with, that these ingrained ways of thinking and dealing with the world can be changed. I’m tired of being tense all the time. I’m tired of being pissed off all the time. I’m tired of not being okay with me and the world. Which feels a bit ridiculous to write because I used to think that I was okay with everything. In recent years, I have found some peace and some serenity and I do feel far more comfortable in my skin than I ever thought I could. It's been a bit of a shock (at least, on a surface level) to discover that I'm not nearly as okay with everything as I thought I was.
But like an onion with many, many layers, there’s still so much further to go.
This has really been blowing my mind. Some of this, I sort of already knew. I was very sheltered growing up and had pretty much just my parents for examples on how to deal with everything (and I mean that more literally than figuratively). One example: I thought I learned to not fight back against bullies because I was trying to follow the non-violence ideal of my father. But that doesn’t work because it implies more thinking than I was capable of at that age. My brain hadn’t yet developed to the point where I was capable of that type of thinking process. And even if it had, the far more powerful message was his behavioral example of sitting and hunkering down through my mom’s nitpicking. That was the real example I had of how to deal with conflict—shrink down and wait for it to pass. That was the behavior that was modeled for me, so that’s what I learned. That’s what got written in my behavioral programming at an instinctual level.
My parents' interactions are a real insight into my own issues with relationships, too. I’ve done a lot of work on myself in the past, so I already have a lot of pieces to the puzzle: things like understanding how people are drawn to what’s familiar. But the new therapist is helping me really look at those pieces and see how they actually fit together. It’s as though I had pieces before and was sort of able to squash them together, but she’s come along and said, ‘here, let me turn those over for you so that you can see the picture on the other side’ and wouldn’t you know it, the pieces just snap right together.
As I type this, I’m thinking about the nutty women I’ve dated, or more generally all the high-strung uptight women in my life over the years. Just like mom. Dated a lot of tense, uptight, occasionally unstable women? You bet. Well guess who we know that’s just like that? Dated a lot of women with poor boundaries? What. A. Surprise. I’m also trying to use less sarcasm. What I mean to say is, of course many of the women in my life have been like my mom. Not just because she’s my mom and so has had a huge influence, but because of how she is, my sheltered childhood, my absent (but present) father, she had a HUGE influence in forming my concept of what a ‘normal’ woman is like. It’s no wonder I have such difficulty just talking to actually normal women—I’ve got no model for what that conversation is like!
We’ve talked, too, about the things that weren’t modeled for me like how to deal with—regulate—emotions. This has lead to even more ‘well of course’ moments. Of course I was super emotional as a child (and into adulthood, and maybe even still), I had zero examples of how to deal with them. Or, I suppose even more accurately, I had two: the model of total suppression (dad) and random explosiveness (mom). Which, of course, go hand in hand.
Looking at this new framework, the therapist then zeroed in on something else—how angry I am, and very specifically how angry I am because I wasn’t given the tools I needed to deal with life. And even more so how angry I am about the tools I was given being ones that didn’t work. I’d thought I’d dealt with my anger issues, but having her point out my anger to me was like having a blanket pulled off of my head and all of a sudden I could SEE, really SEE, that I was still unbelievably angry. Like, 'see' in the way the Buddhists talk about seeing.
The same thing is true of tension. The therapist and I have talked a lot about the bullying I went through growing up. She started to say I have PTSD from it and I really didn’t like the sound of that. I may have to talk to her some more about that. But I carry a tension, too. How many times have I longed for the ability to relax? How rare has it been in my life that I’ve actually been able to??
I’m hopeful that these old habits can be dealt with, that these ingrained ways of thinking and dealing with the world can be changed. I’m tired of being tense all the time. I’m tired of being pissed off all the time. I’m tired of not being okay with me and the world. Which feels a bit ridiculous to write because I used to think that I was okay with everything. In recent years, I have found some peace and some serenity and I do feel far more comfortable in my skin than I ever thought I could. It's been a bit of a shock (at least, on a surface level) to discover that I'm not nearly as okay with everything as I thought I was.
But like an onion with many, many layers, there’s still so much further to go.
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
“Why Write?”
In Hollywood, there’s a superstition against using a question for a movie’s
name. Apparently, no one will go see a movie if there’s a big fat “?” at the
end of the title. There may be a paper in there somewhere on that, about how
movies inform us, tell us how we should feel, and so if the movie itself isn’t
sure about what it’s trying to make us think, we instinctively shy away. As for
a blog post title, even an initial one, I’ve blogged off and on over the years
and never managed to develop a following. As the Mad Hatter said to Alice, “you
mean you can’t very well have any less!”
People write blogs for many different reasons. The main one seems to be so that they can share their valued opinions with others. Another is that narcissistic knee-jerk itch some folks need to scratch, as though they don’t have a place or a space in their own lives to assert their own ideas on the way the world should be, and so they dump it into the vast void of cyberspace.
For myself, this blog is my journal space. Is it brave of me (or foolish) to keep such a public accounting of my private thoughts and feelings? I doubt it. Maybe that’s naïve, but I really don’t think this could ever get to the point of enough people reading that it would matter. And in any event, I know how to maintain an anonymous presence online. So in this age where you can find anyone’s personal phone number by looking it up on their facebook page or google profile, those types of personal identifiers for this author and those I might mention here will remain cloaked.
After all, all of this is true.
People write blogs for many different reasons. The main one seems to be so that they can share their valued opinions with others. Another is that narcissistic knee-jerk itch some folks need to scratch, as though they don’t have a place or a space in their own lives to assert their own ideas on the way the world should be, and so they dump it into the vast void of cyberspace.
For myself, this blog is my journal space. Is it brave of me (or foolish) to keep such a public accounting of my private thoughts and feelings? I doubt it. Maybe that’s naïve, but I really don’t think this could ever get to the point of enough people reading that it would matter. And in any event, I know how to maintain an anonymous presence online. So in this age where you can find anyone’s personal phone number by looking it up on their facebook page or google profile, those types of personal identifiers for this author and those I might mention here will remain cloaked.
After all, all of this is true.
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