Mother As the Giving Tree: Reflections on Conditional Acceptance

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. Last Monday, I attended an online meeting for adults who spent time in the NICU as infants. It touched me on many levels. One thing that was mentioned was the fact that most NICU parents go through their own emotional process, which then is passed on somehow to their child in the NICU and beyond. For example, many parents back in my day and before didn’t know whether their baby would survive, so they didn’t attach to their babies as they normally would have.

I was also reminded of something I read in the book The Emotionally Absent Mother. In it, motherhood is compared to the giving tree in Shel Sinverstein’s writing. I don’t think I’ve ever read this piece, but its point is that the tree keeps on giving and giving and expects nothing in return.

I have been thinking about my parents’ attitude to me as a multiply-disabled person. When I suffered a brain bleed in the NICU, my father questioned my neonatologist about my quality of life and what they were doing to me. “We’re keeping her alive,” the doctor bluntly replied. My father has always been adamant to me that he wouldn’t have wanted me if I’d had an intellectual disability, because “you can’t talk with those”.

I have always felt the pressure of conditional acceptance. I’ve shared this before, but when I was in Kindergarten or first grade, it was already made clear to me that, at age eighteen, i’d leave the house and go to university. I tell myself every parent has expectations and dreams for their child. This may be so, but most parents don’t abandon their children when these children don’t meet their expectations and certainly not when it’s inability, not unwillingness, that drives these children not to fulfill their parents’ dreams. Then again, my parents say it’s indeed unwillingness on my part.

I still question myself on this. Am I really unable to live on my own and go to university? My wife says yes, I am unable. Sometimes though, I wish it were within my power to make my parents be on my side. Then again, the boy in Shel Silverstein’s writing didn’t have to do anything to make the tree support him either.

I’m linking up with #WWWhimsy. I was also inspired to write this post when I saw Esther’s writing prompt for this week, which is “giving”.

Therapy, Counseling and Coaching for Mental Health and Personal Growth #AtoZChallenge

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. Today for my letter T post in the #AtoZChallenge, I want to talk about therapy and other forms of support when you’re dealing with mental health problems and/or when you want to grow as a person.

Generally speaking, therapy isn’t for personal growth, although as a person you may grow when overcoming mental health problems. What I mean by this, is that your therapist isn’t just a sounding board and they aren’t your friend. If you’re feeling pretty good overall, formal therapy at least here in the Netherlands isn’t what you should be looking for. After all, therapy is aimed at helping you, in as little time as possible, to overcome your mental health problems. Here in the Netherlands, in fact, there’s a limit on the number of psychotherapy sessions you can get covered by health insurance. Of course, you could pay out of pocket for more, but if you’re reasonably well-adjusted, why should you?

Coaching and counseling are much more affordable and accessible because anyone can call themselves a counselor or coach. This also means that you’ll find coaches or counselors who align with almost any spiritual or psychological teaching. There are Enneagram coaches, for example, even though the Enneagram is actually nonsense. Did I, a person who frequently writes about herself as an Enneagram type 4, just say that? Yes, I did.

There are, of course, also coaches or counselors who do work within the framework of science-based psychology and education. For example, many people call themselves ADHD coaches and they do (I assume) have some knowledge of the current ideas surrounding ADHD.

Psychotherapy is, here in the Netherlands, often heavily protocol-based depending on your diagnosis or main problem. This is also what I’ve often found frustrating. Like, when I was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder, my psychologist wanted to do schema-focused therapy, but the modes and all that didn’t fit in with my experience of being plural.

At other times, therapy didn’t suit me because, while I sort of understood the theory, I wasn’t able to apply it in practice. This is why I eventually stopped doing dialectical behavior therapy.

I personally don’t do well with therapies that are merely focused on skill-building or that are primarily verbal (talk therapy). I have had the most success with art and movement therapies. I currently do movement therapy based on the Sherborne method. This is a sensory and attachment-based therapy approach. For example, today my therapist brought a multisensory tool called CRDL. When both of us touched the tool with one hand and touched each other’s hands or arms, the CRDL made different calming sounds. This is helping me regulate far better than any DBT skill helped me.

Attachment Theory for Personal Growth #AtoZChallenge

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone and welcome to my eleventh attempt at doing the #AtoZChallenge. I’m doing it on personal growth and self-improvement this year and, for my letter A post, I want to talk about attachment styles.

Attachment theory was first developed by John Bowlby (1907-1990). Bowlby was educated in psychoanalysis but didn’t feel that this idea took into account a person’s environment.

Attachment theory is based on the bond between a child and their primary caregiver (usually mother) early in life. Bowlby observed that, if a child’s need for consistent, secure attachment isn’t met, that child will develop emotional, social and sometimes even cognitive problems.

The idea of attachment styles comes from Mary Ainsworth (1913-1999). She designed something called the “strange situation”. In this experiment, young toddlers (between 12 and 18 months of age) were observed during their interactions with their mothers, a stranger who was at one point introduced into the situation, and while alone.

This led to the idea that there are three distinct attachment styles:


  • Secure: the child reacts with distress in the absence of their mother but is easily soothed by her.

  • Resistant (now known as anxious or anxious-preoccupied): persistent distress that continues far longer even in the presence of the mother.

  • Avoidant (dismissive-avoidant): no outward signs of distress either when the mother leaves or when she returns: a child ignores the mother.

Later, a fourth attachment style (disorganized or fearful-avoidant) was added. Children who would be classified as having this attachment style, exhibit characteristics of both the resistant and avoidant style. For example, a child seeks comfort from the stranger rather than their mother.

Remember, attachment theory and attachment styles are based on observations of toddlers. As such, how relevant are these to adults? Current research shows that attachment styles are moderately stable over time. As such, if you had an insecure attachment style as a child, you’re likely to still have some attachment insecurity as an adult.

However, as you’ll see when I discuss other topics relevant to personal growth, hardly anything in the human psyche is black-or-white and this goes for attachment styles too. Rather, in adults, there are two continuums along which someone will function: attachment anxiety and attachment avoidance. Most people fall somewhere in the middle on both, experiencing some attachment anxiety and some attachment avoidance but not so much that it interferes with their daily life.

How does an insecure attachment style present in adults? Generally speaking, someone who leans towards dismissive-avoidant will value their independence, have difficulty sharing their emotions and have a hard time being in an intimate or otherwise close relationship.

People who have more of an anxious-preoccupied attachment style, are the opposite: they crave relationships and worry excessively about losing the people close to them, leading them towards neediness and manipulation.

People who exhibit disorganized attachment, will alternate between craving intimacy and avoiding it.

I at one point had an attachment styles questionnaire administered and scored highest on the anxious-preoccupied attachment style. I currently believe I have some avoidant tendencies too, so in terms of black-or-white attachment styles would be considered fearful-avoidant with a strong leaning towards anxious.

How My Attachment Style Affects My Decision-Making

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. I have been contemplating my decision to move to my current care home from the previous one a lot lately. My assigned staff often asks me whether I might be a little too critical, because my old care home offered near-perfect supports and yet I wanted to leave. Indeed, it could be this is a factor. I’m an Enneagram type 4, after all, always looking for that elusive ideal.

However, I am also insecurely attached. Attachment is formed in early childhood between the infant/toddler and their primary caretaker. When there is frequent disruption in this attachment and/or the caretaker isn’t a safe person for the child (as in the cases of neglect or abuse), this attachment doesn’t form or forms insecurely. This then will lead to problems later in life with relationships, both romantic and otherwise.

The different attachment styles described differ per professional, but I primarily score as anxious-preoccupied. This means that I am essentially looking for close connections to people, be they my romantic partner or otherwise, but also intensely fear them abandoning me. I also relate strongly to the ambivalent attachment style, which is essentially a mix between avoidance and preoccupation. This would explain why I push people away when I sense they might be abandoning me.

This is where my decision to move out of my old care home comes in. Starting at the end of 2021, half the team of my old care home left their positions, including some staff I could get along with really well. I remember, shortly before making the decision to ask my assigned staff to involve the behavior specialist in finding me a new home, E-mailing that same assigned staff. The contents of the E-mail were rather, well, needy. I expressed the fact that I knew none of the staff currently working at my home could guarantee they’d remain with me for months, let alone years to come. I probably even mentioned my spouse, who, though we have zero intention of divorcing ever, might leave me eventually. That’s life. No-one can predict the future. And honestly, it kind of sucks.

Though my then assigned staff assured me my E-mail had nothing to do with it, she did indeed quit her job several months later. However, the fact that the team as it was when I got my one-on-one support funding, had pretty much fallen apart, gave me the impression I didn’t need to stay for the team. And since otherwise the home wasn’t suitable for me – because the other clients couldn’t speak and needed far more physical care than I did -, I started the search for a more suitable home. Which, as regular readers of this blog will know, I didn’t find. I mean, yes, my fellow clients can speak, but the support approach is very different and not in a good way from what I got at my old home.

My attachment style also means I often come across as very trusting, because I at least initially accept everyone into my life because I have such an intense fear of aloneness. This is often misjudged to be a sign of secure attachment. In fact, recently a relatively new staff tried to get me to join him on a car trip to get food for just the staff during my designated activity time. I felt kind of lured, because I didn’t want to but he was like “it’s fun, I’ll buy you a treat too” and then I didn’t feel comfortable refusing anymore. This should’ve been a big no-go had this person not been a staff member, but since he’s a staff member it was okay, according to one of the other staff I talked this over with. What this staff didn’t realize is that I’ve had previous experiences of risky encounters with men and a history of being a victim of sexual violation too. And, though of course my easily accepting others isn’t to blame for any victimization (that would be victim blaming), it is important to realize I don’t distinguish between those in a position to help me and those who aren’t, like that staff person believed.

When I Was Twenty

Posted on by Astrid

When I was twenty, I lived at the independence training home for disabled young adults in my parents’ city. I had had one particular assigned staff member for the first year that I lived there, but due to my challenging behavior, she refused to be my assigned staff any longer. I was fine with this, because I couldn’t get along with her anyway. Instead, the team coordinator became my assigned staff.

Over the next six months, we developed quite a strong bond. I started to feel like I could be myself with her. That was rather unusual, as I’d never felt like I could be myself with any outside person at all. I started to show her bits of my inner world, started to be vulnerable with her.

Then she went on vacation. When she came back, she informed me she could no longer be my assigned staff. I don’t remember her reasoning, but it was related to both her workload and our relationship.

I think back often to this staff now that my assigned staff at the care facility is leaving. It feels as though she’s rejecting me, just like the other one rejected me. After all, shortly after that staff could no longer be my assigned staff, I had to leave the training home.

I have been flooded with memories from when I was twenty again. I try to remember I’m 36 now, but attachment loss is still as difficult as it ever was.

In truth, I should have learned my lesson back then when I was still young: care staff are not there to stay. Don’t be vulnerable with them.

This post was written for Five Minute Friday, for which the prompt this week is “twenty”.

An Interesting Nightmare

Posted on by Astrid

I had an interesting nightmare last night. It wasn’t even really a nightmare in the traditional sense of the word. I mean, no violence or monsters were involved. Then again, most of my nightmares don’t involve that kind of scenario.

In my dream, the last client to contract COVID in our care home, came into my room and went straight to my bed while I was lying in it. I tried to crawl to one end to keep my distance, because of course getting out of bed would mean getting stuck touching her. I eventually managed to press the call button, but no-one came. Finally, this client left, but I was utterly distressed and tried to press the call button again, but to no avail. I then went out of my room and to the living room, even though I’d decided to stay in my room while more than half of my fellow clients are positive for COVID. Then, one of the care assistants, a woman I’ve only met briefly once or twice, came to my room to have breakfast with me (apparently it was morning), but I asked for the morning staff. The care assistant explained that the staff was busy and she was having breakfast with me instead. Then I woke up.

The nightmarish aspect of the dream was, in part, the fact that a client with COVID came into my room and my bed. This to me signifies how scared I am of contracting the virus, even though I keep saying there’s no surefire way to prevent it anyway and I’m not scared of getting very ill. I am, however, quite honestly, pretty scared of the consequences of room-based self-isolation should I be positive. I mean, I’m now basically in room-based self-isolation too, but my staff don’t have to wear PPE other than surgical masks and they can still be within a five-feet distance. I’m not sure about holding my hand or holding me in an embrace, as I’ve been cautious and haven’t asked, but I know from the times I had to self-isolate with suspected COVID last year and in 2020 that those are big no-nos should I be positive. At least, my staff wouldn’t even get within a five-feet distance even while wearing PPE then.

Another aspect that was nightmarish to me, was the fact that the unfamiliar care assistant ended up helping me rather than my trusted staff. This to me signifies how I’m experiencing attachment to this staff, and she wasn’t even my assigned home support worker or another of my favorite staff. I guess this counts as a win!

Lastly, a nightmare aspect was the fact that the care assistant told me that the staff was busy. I am forever frustrated with staff being overworked and busy and at the same time, I’m trying to accommodate them as much as I can. For example, yesterday the staff (same one who was supposed to come in my dream) forgot to come by my room at 3:15PM when she had finished handover. At 3:45, fifteen minutes before my one-on-one time would start, I’d had enough and pressed the call button. I was really frustrated, thinking that I’d be left to my own resources now that over half of the clients have COVID. That would make sense, rationally speaking, since I’m not sick or whatever. Not that the other clients are very sick, but oh well. As it turned out, the staff had forgotten to show up because she hardly ever works late shifts. This, plus my nightmare, does show how easily I think that I’m being abandoned.

Sharing this post with Scott’s Daily Prompt from last Saturday on the topic of nightmares.

Dealing with Anxious Attachment and Attachment Loss

Posted on by Astrid

Okay, I’m probably giving up on the 31-day writing challenge. I love the prompts, but right now, they just don’t seem to inspire me. I’m not feeling well at all right now. Haven’t for about a week or more. Like I shared in my post on Sunday, I have been feeling triggered by my staff being on sick leave. It’s not just that, of course. The change of seasons with all its triggers to my time in crisis back in 2007, doesn’t help either. The emotional flashbacks are so bad I’m considering asking my nurse practitioner to temporarily up my topiramate. For now though, I’ll write a little about attachment loss and abandonment issues.

When I was first diagnosed with complex PTSD and dissociative identity disorder in 2010, part of the consultation that led to this diagnosis involved an attachment styles questionnaire. I scored highest on the anxious/preoccupied attachment style. This means that I tend to depend heavily on others. I struggle to admit this, but it is true.

As such, I fear attachment loss or abandonment a lot. Most anxiously attached people tend to seek another relationship right away when one ends. I don’t have any exes, since my husband was also my first boyfriend, but I do notice it in other areas. For example, now that my assigned staff is on sick leave, I’ve already been thinking about who will become my assigned staff if she ends up not returning. Which, in fact, is something I cannot get out of my head for whatever reason.

Anxiously attached people also tend to cling to dysfunctional attachment figures far too long. Again, I don’t experience this in my marriage, but I did experience it in the psych hospital. I had an assigned staff who was rather adamant that I become more independent than I could be, but I accepted her as an authority for far too long. Same with my psychologist.

I, thankfully, left that place. However, I do find that something I read while researching attachment loss for this post, makes a lot of sense: the idea that leaving a relationship on paper doesn’t mean being emotionally detached from that attachment figure. Again, not my marriage, but with respect to my care situation, yes, that’s so me! I still experience vivid dreams (not necessarily nightmares!) about the psych hospital. I also still look up things about my former care agencies, thinking maybe I should go back. I still find myself being influenced by what my past care providers said about me, no matter how harmful and wrong. This may be one reason I don’t generally meet the avoidance criterion of classic PTSD, but am rather the opposite: I find myself drawn to things that trigger me. Now if only I could find a way to truly let go of the emotional baggage I’m carrying with me.

Basic Mistrust

Posted on by Astrid

I have been compelled to read up on emotional and psychosocial development. One theory is Erik Erikson’s theory, which states that, at each different stage in life (from infancy to old age), a particular conflict is present. In infancy and early toddlerhood, this conflict is basic trust vs. mistrust.

I initially thought that this stage corresponds pretty much to the first adaptation phase in attachment theory, which takes place between birth and age six months. When I checked it though, it includes this stage as well as the first socialization phase, age six to eighteen months. This may be one reason why I relate strongly to basic mistrust even though, in attachment theory terms, I function in most areas consistent with the first socialization phase.

One thing I’m facing lately is a chronic feeling of anxiety and distrust. In my care plan, my emotional development is outlined and in the fear domain, I am said to function at an age comparable to somewhere between zero and eighteen months. This includes all of Erikson’s first stage of psychosocial development. By contrast, it encompasses both the first adaptation and first socialization phase of attachment development. The reason my development in this area isn’t pinpointed to either of these two phases, is that I experience both basic fear (consistent with the first adaptation phase) and strong separation anxiety (consistent with the first socialization phase). Apparently, a baby under six months cannot yet express separation anxiety.

I have little idea why I might experience such strong anxiety, as in, what in my early development contributed to it. I mean, my parents claim I didn’t have these issues until I started to lose my eyesight at age seven. Seven is another important age in both cognitive and psychosocial development, but I don’t think that one is particularly important in my life. The earlier stages seem to make far more sense to me.

Of course, I do know that I probably didn’t have optimal care in my early life. This isn’t anyone’s fault. I was, after all, born prematurely and spent the first three months of my life in hospital. Though my parents visited me often, I don’t think I could rely upon them for meeting my every basic need. After all, they cannot possibly have been in my proximity 24/7, like the mother of a typically-developing child usually is at least for the first few weeks to months. My nurses must’ve provided me feeding and comfort at least part of the time.

As for affection, I have absolutely no idea. NICU nurses aren’t likely to be able to provide any significant level of affection to a baby at all, but I guess my parents would’ve made up for that. I went into this when discussing mother as source and mother as place of attachment. The truth is, I honestly mostly rely on my current feelings to guide my ideas. I, after all, don’t have many early memories of affection. My first memory related to it is from age four or five and it involves my mother using a nickname for me that referred to her needing to be at my side all the time. Then again, most people don’t have many early memories at all and remembering is still a form of reconstruction. In other words, because I experience a lot of basic mistrust now as an adult, it is easier for me to remember the memories that point to this.

This post was inspired by Fandango’s one-word challenge (#FOWC), the word for today being “Basic”.

If The Staff Saw My True Nature…: Reflections on Not Belonging

Posted on by Astrid

Yesterday, I was in yet another crisis. I was majorly triggered when a staff told me at the dinner table to calm down or go to my room because she had other clients to attend to as well. This triggered both my fight and flight responses. I was completely convinced that this one remark proved that, if staff truly know me, they’ll abandon me. After all, if they truly knew my nature, they’d know I needed more support than they can offer. I was and still am intensely ashamed of this nature of mine, but for whatever reason, I cannot seem to change it.

I cannot stop this part of mine who thinks she needs almost literally one-on-one support all day. It isn’t even a sense of entitlement, since I don’t feel that I’m somehow deserving of more attention than the other clients. Or maybe at the core I do believe this. I’m not sure. My parents would say I do believe I’m somehow entitled to endless attention.

At one point, I lashed out at the staff member. This led to further intense shame. I was convinced that, in that moment, the staff had seen my true nature and that she was going to make sure I’d be kicked out.

For whatever reason, she didn’t. She did, I assume, write an incident report. Other than that, I must say she was incredibly nice all evening.

And yet all day I was convinced that, if the staff nor the manager were going to kick me out, they must not have seen how wicked I really am. I do know that, in truth, this was one of my worst outbursts of aggression ever. I’ve done more harmful things, but those were harmful only to myself.

The manager came to talk to me late in the afternoon. She reassured me that I won’t be kicked out. I tried to tell her that, despite my desire to be good, I feel I might need more support than my current home can provide. I wasn’t trying to elicit her pity or convince her to apply for more funding for me, but I was trying to make it clear that I may be more of a burden than she can handle. I don’t want to feel attached to the staff and the home and even some of the other clients only to be told in a month or two that after all I’m too much of a handful. The manager sort of reassured me.

And yet, when she was gone, I went online and looked at other places I might be able to move to. Not because I really want to move, but because that’s what I’m used to. I’m used to not being wanted anywhere. And it’s tempting to believe that, with how often I end up in crisis here, I don’t really want to live here myself. Ugh, I don’t know how to answer that question.

We’re In Pain

Posted on by Astrid

So we’ve had a mouth ulcer for some days now and as of today, it really hurts. Our staff called the GP, since we can’t go to the dentist now due to our facility’s COVID-19 restrictions and also since they already knew it was a mouth ulcer. The medical assistant couldn’t decide what to do right away so she talked to the doctor herself. Our staff called back some time later. At first, the doctor said to just take paracetamol, but our staff nagged a bit, so now we’ll get some lidocaine gel. This will probably arrive tomorrow.

We somehow misunderstood the doctor’s telling our staff to just give us paracetamol as her thinking we weren’t in significant pain or that we were overreacting. This caused some of us a lot of upset. Over dinner, we were feeling really overwhelmed by the pain and also other clients’ noise. We somehow couldn’t speak until after we’d had a full-on meltdown. Then we got to express our pain and our staff fetched us some paracetamol. That did help some. We’re still in pain, but it’s manageable.

We generally feel very triggered of late. We’re currently reading a foster care memoir by Maggie Hartley called Who Will Love Me Now?. It’s about Kirsty, a ten-year-old being rejected by her first foster carers after they took her in from a neglectful biological mother as a baby. Understandably, Kirsty feels that no-one loves her now and is acting out a lot to prove this point.

I feel a lot of the more disturbed younger parts can relate to this. Thankfully, our parents never abandoned us, but they did threaten to institutionalize us a lot. Age ten was around the time this started.

I also showed a lot of the behaviors Kirsty shows. I mean, I would also often tell my parents that they didn’t love me. Though I didn’t experience the early abandonment Kirsty did, I do most likely suffer with some attachment issues. I can only speculate as to why this might be.

As we’re now in a place where at least so far the staff are saying we can stay, I notice we act out a bit out of a need to “prove” our point. Which is what, really? That no-one wants us, I guess. I’m not 100% sure how to let go of this feeling.

I did journal a lot in my Day One journals over the past few days. It feels good to let out my thoughts. I’m trying to make this a daily habit and hope my blog won’t suffer because of it.