hypnotic hypocrisy

At the time I am writing this I will only be halfway through my second day at a crisis residential facility. Hopefully I only have twelve more days, G-d willing. Throughout the day, patients attend a slew of groups that greatly resemble DBT (Dialectical Behavior Therapy.) Today, during our second group of the day, we were discussing the topic of worrying. Questions such as: how do you cope with worry? What worries you? What are the pros and cons of worrying? And so on and so forth. Currently, I am well aware I have more important things to worry about than a relationship, but it’s almost like this inferior worry has distracted me from the greater plight at hand which is mania, OCD behaviors, and substance abuse to numb myself from the aforementioned issues. Yet what is it that I can’t seem to stop obsessing and worrying about? My relationship, or do I even say failed relationship that no longer exists? The details are muddy but here’s a quick synopsis:

Girl jumps to conclusions, threatens to break up.

Boy doesn’t want to break up and goes back to his home state.

Boy thinks and messages that he can’t move forward.

Girl is distraught and gives examples as to why he’s wrong.

Boy backtracks (?) and says he gets in his head.

Girl sends a Leonard Cohen lullaby.

Girl has no idea what the future holds but her inner voice says, not so fast, not over yet.

This is a very general synopsis but it has been plaguing my mind the whole few days prior to my admission to this facility. So, back to the group and my imminent hypocrisy. I swear this is going somewhere. As we were discussing the topic of worrying, I could only think about this issue with my partner.( I’m still going to refer to him this way.) The way I see it, worry is like fear and what am I most fearful of? Uncertainty. In fact you really can’t have one of these three issues without the other. For example, I was afraid to come here because I was uncertain what the staff and patients were going to be like. Another example would be I’m worried because I’m uncertain they’ll mix my delicates with my jeans when they do my laundry. Priorities. I’m uncomfortable with uncertainty as anyone else would be yet I also have OCD and as I wrote here this condition prays on the fear based part of your brain which goes hand-in-hand with uncertainty. My future with him is uncertain, I don’t know if we have one anymore. This is my mind speaking, the part that I’m not sure G-d has any dwelling rights to. So as I’m listening to tips on how to minimize worrying, I’m only getting more and more worried but then I begin to share some insights to another woman who is really struggling. 

I tell her affirmations such as:

There’s always a solution.

You can’t see behind the veil of reality all of the positive components coming together.

Everything always works out because it just has to whether or not you like the outcome.

Treat intrusive thoughts like unwanted house guests; acknowledge and don't engage.

Can you do anything this red hot minute to solve your issue? No? Then there’s no need to worry.

I mean really, how big of a bullshitter am I? The whole session I’m thinking about all of the negative “what if’s” with me and my partner. Does he think of me? Did we make a mistake? Was this supposed to happen to bring us closer? I want to reach out to him. Why hasn’t he reached out to me? He would hold so much compassion and provide support to me now that I’m in this foreign facility. The list goes on and it comes in waves which is frankly better than it’s been before. Yet, in this group I felt like a hypocrite. Here comes the reason for the title, "Hypnotic Hypocrisy,” it felt like I wasn’t myself and was almost hypnotized and just reading from a script of things I’ve heard or tried to learn before. I felt like a jester posing for the counselor (praise kink) and the onlookers proposing how seemingly easy it is for me to not worry. And that’s just not the case and wasn’t in that short forty-five minutes. I am worried. I am fearful. I am uncertain. That’s my truth and my reality.

Now my question is this: by volunteering this positive information to others, am I embedding it in myself as well? Perhaps. When I left the group I felt like I needed something tangible to grasp on to. I ended up chain smoking and reading about Robert Mapplethorpe and listening to Mariner’s Apartment Complex, which side note, sounds like Lana Del Rey writing as though she is G-D or something, speaking to a “believer”. Yet, despite all of this, that worry stays with me and I wish I could write “stay” in the past tense but that would completely undermine this whole topic of uncertainty. Because I am uncertain what will happen with me and my partner. I am uncertain that when I leave this facility I won’t have trouble assimilating back to “normal” life. I am uncertain that I will be a mother, a good one at that. I am uncertain that I can be loved despite my predisposed mental afflictions. What does anyone do with that? Ugh, Kailyn, did you even read the coping mechanisms worry worksheet? I did. But that’s a worksheet. This is my heart. 

There’s no conclusion to this, which is why it’s aptly focused on uncertainty. I am certain I’m going to go to my small corner oasis and light up a few Parliaments and at least postpone worrying about the hours between 7-8pm.