Time Out
I reckon it was somewheres in the late 90's that my psychotherapy reached the family-I-gave-birth-to circle. YS (the father of my GK's) and I began the trend during his first round in Juvenile Justice as we attended the court-ordered workshops, circa 1987. Both of us stutter under pressure, so communicating our efforts to the more verbally gifted family members felt beyond our capabilities, but we plied the "Let It Begin With Me" principle I had learned in Alanon. With much encouragement from those court-ordered workshops, we focused on learning how to use the tools between us before we worried about sharing them with big brother, Daddy, etc. One of the tools between us was/is designed to say, "Mother! You are hyper-expressing again" without disrupting the conversation at hand. It is NFF (No Fucking Fair) that hyper-expression is one of the side effects of my stutter. When my tongue is working well, every yaddah ever repressed by my stutter comes gushing out in tsunami force. A child party can be innundated with psychosomatic/remorseful ease. Gee. . . What's wrong with my kids? Spare me the sorrowful platitudes. Just give me A Plan I can work with! Now, Goddammit!
Sigh. . . Thank you, Alanon and VA for being there for me during those difficult years.
The signal which grew between YS and I during the therapy for his college breakdowns was, "How 'bout them Cowboys?" I'm no sports fan, so for me, that phrase triggers the 76 RPM tones of Gene Autrey singing, "Don't Fence Me In," etc. As a child, even when I had access to televisions, etc., I was too hyper to sit with a crowd, but the snippets I caught on the fringe of Cowboy Media sure traveled well to my forts and wildeness hidey holes. High Ho, Silver. . . Away. . . By the time he was receiving his Jr Hi Court Orders, YS was big enough to be living with the jock stigma. He was expected to be rattling off the latest Sports Statistics more easily than I was expected to give directions to shopping hot spots. That phrase triggers him to all his best study habits. I think. I sure feel presumptive speaking for someone else's trigger effects. At best, Brain Mapping is an infant science. Can we really know even our own synaptic sequences, much less someone else's?
Fast forward a decade or so, and "How 'bout them Cowboys?" is now a family cue for, "Back off, moron!" For the members of our social network we (both individually and together) are attempting stay on track with, it is a friendly change of subject along whichever Cowboy Line you prefer. Cowboys have grown many, many global mythologies. Take your pick and run with it.
Fast forward another uncharted set of years to this day in my "Empty Nest Years" and the Official(?) sports hand signal for, "Time Out" has become a strictly personal grounding tool for my intrusive thought loops. My awareness that I have been doing this for quite some time is new, but this particular week of anxious waiting for That Plan I Can Work With has found me forming that T in front of my nose with deliberate intent to silence the mental chatter at social workers, judges and lawyers I havenae ever met in person. It silences the Puppet Shows of my more rebellious nature just as effectively. QUIET ON THE SET! ! !
Three more days until the Foster Care Certification Interview. Six more days until the start of the local School Year. Can I have a nervous breakdown now? If you don't like ^it^, you can sue me.
Time Out. Backfield in motion.
Replies
Oh My!!! Guessing my word is "I'm, going ape shit", My Dear Mother was "Jesus Mary and Joseph give me strength" while she was pulling on her hair, my dear friend Chris, Is a cowboy, he goes out and kicks his wood pile...I remind him often to wear steel toed boots....He's served 4 tours in Afghanistan, he was a doctor.....can't even go close to what he saw, lost his wife in December and about a month ago lost his leg below the knee...oh how he want to go out and kick that wood pile!!!! PTSD therapist wants to do Art Therapy...The Man is a Man! Kick As Cowboy, ranch, cattle and all...and she wants him to draw pictures...go figure?
Funny, now story, not so funny when it was going on. I said to John I'm going to kick your butt if you don't get up those stairs and go to bed! Well dear son mentioned Mom said she was going to Kick My Butt the next day in school. I got a knock on my door from DCF! Dept. of child and family services to Interview Me About Child Abuse!!!
Sending you my prayers for your Highest Good and GK's and YS as you all wait out the insanity of jumping through the red tape of Justice system, Dept. of Family Service System and the School Educational System! Hoping your tool box is full of what I did with John when he didn't 'do' the 'time out', I turned it into a ''calm out chair''
There are quite allot of "The Man is a Man! Kick As Cowboy, ranch, cattle and all..." Cattle Men here in the neighborhood of this Southern Plains farm. One of them even leases the pastures as his cattle birthing pen. I don't know Chris or his cowboy yaddahs, but the Cattle Men I know could stand a few art therapy breaks in between the dog-eat-dog dailies of the Cattle industry. Don't let the Country Western Songs fool ya. They ain't living in their Great Grandpa's World with the support of their Great Grandmas and obedient sons.
Thank you for the prayers, ML.
For what it's worth:
The time out is for me, strictly personal. I am trusting my adult children to declare their own time-outs and/or decide their own plans for following Court Orders. For now, I am grateful for the Court Orders and Social Services network between foster parenting duties and their middle-aged yaddahs. Prayers ongoing. . .
This is so unfortunate Arf….. Thank goodness that you and your hubby were willing to step in at least for now...…
I don't quite know what to say so I won't say anything else other then you are all in my prayers as well..... Big hug....xo
I have long been verbally handicapped in this multi-generational drama, Jan. When my therapists and I have discussed the possibility of psychosomatic causes for my hearing weirds and mutism of my early speech development, most of them thought it a sign of intelligence. To quote one of them, "I'm an adult with a doctorate degree and still find myself without words for ^it^."
I been doing my ABC prayers lately. The ABC prayer is for those pains and heartbreaks which live beyond words, with the AssUmption that the words are far more for my benefit than for God's Benefit. These prayers consist of the Alphabet Song with the ending, "Now I've prayed my ABC's. Send back the letters that I need."
Prayers count and I thank you again, my sun in the cloud. Healing hopes for all. No exceptions.
Arfie, if only their was an endpoint to the chaos. At least we do get some breathing spaces. Unfortunately, this is not one of yours. So agree that ongoing therapy, with breaks when appropriate, over the decades does let us get some do-overs. Then life happens! Hoping for rapid closure to these pressing issues. Love and prayers for you and yours.
Thank you for the authoritative agreement, Simpson. Prayers sincerely appreciated.
Arfie, Hoping all goes well with FC certification and school coming up. Prayers for everything to go as smoothly as possible.
Thank you, Sage. Still dangling my feet from your treehouse porch with you. . .
((((arfie))))) so much love filled prayer, that kind of love that is like oil, poured over to smooth things out and comfort - i don't say or think i knkow what things, but God will know and he'll do the pouring. it is a simple prayer so no people are involved in complicating it up with words - nobody needs that.
gentle hugs, arf xo
Thank you, cherished Lilly. I like simple prayers and tools best. Simplicity is much harder to break than complexity.
Brain fart warning:
Is complexity just simplicity with a bandage? The more broken ^it^ is, the more complex the bandages?