By Joyce Alexander, RNP (retired)
I don’t normally by lotto tickets because the odds of winning are so powerfully against winning. Yes, I know “someone eventually wins,” and “if you don’t buy a ticket you don’t have any chance of winning.”
When the payout on the recent Powerball got so high though—a half-billion dollars—like lots of folks I decided “why not?” I bought a $3 ticket and let the computer pick the numbers for me.
The odds of being attacked by a shark are 1 in 11,000. The odds of being the lotto winner are about 175 million to one.
On the way home, my son and I fantasized about what we would do if we won the half-billion dollar payout. We decided we would take it in one lump sum rather than a yearly payout. Two days later, when we had the drawing on television, we got out our ticket and compared the numbers to the Powerball numbers, and of course, we did not win! We were mildly disappointed, but we were not crushed by losing. We expected to lose. The odds against us were just too high, so that we didn’t expect to win.
Expectations for my son
I think many times in life our expectations are what cause us problems. Expectations, versus reality not measuring up to the expectations, cause us grief many, many times. I can think of several times when my expectations were very high for something to happen, and when it did not happen, I was crushed, because I expected it to happen.
Back when my son Patrick first started his criminal career, I could “see down the road,” even without the benefit of a crystal ball, that if he did not stop the way he was headed, he would wind up with a criminal conviction. That would totally demolish my expectations for him of a college education and a successful professional career. From the time Patrick was a little kid in all the gifted and talented classes at school, I expected that he would be a “big success” in life. His IQ was in the top half of the 99th percentile. My little darling was a genius and could have done anything he wanted to successfully.
As I saw my expectations for his life slipping away, I still held on to what I now call “malignant hope:” The hope that somehow, some way, I could find just the right words to say to him, to get him to “see the light” and to “change” his behavior. I couldn’t let go of my own expectations for his success.
Obviously he did not share my expectations, and in fact, fought tooth and nail against anything I wanted him to do ”¦ study in school, quit stealing, quit running the streets at night.
Job expectations
Other times I have had other expectations that did not come to pass. I had a job that I dearly loved and would never have voluntarily quit. But it was down sized to part time and that forced me to quit in order to obtain health benefits for both myself and my husband with another job. I was devastated because I had expected that I would stay at that job until I retired at 65 or 66.
As it turned out, though, it was a godsend, because shortly after I left the job I loved and took a “weekend option” job that I really didn’t like, but it was only two days a week (Saturday and Sunday) and full benefits, my beloved stepfather was diagnosed with cancer. My part-time job allowed me to be with him throughout his treatments and his subsequent death 18 months later. That was time I was able to spend with him, and ended up being some of the best months that he and I spent together. Quality time. I am grateful.
I also lost my husband about a year after I took the weekend option job, and so I was able to spend more time with him before his death as well. For that I am grateful. At the time I lost the job though, when my expectations of being at that job I loved were quashed, I was devastated. Before long I was actually glad that my expectations were not met.
Expectations and pain
As for my expectations that my son Patrick attend college and become successful at whatever job or career he chose, I finally realized that he had been successful at the career path he had chosen. Not the path I would have chosen for him, but the one he chose for himself.
I don’t consider a criminal who gets caught a high percentage of the time and goes to prison a “successful” career. But for some reason that I am unable to fathom, Patrick considers himself a success. I guess if I could have a bumper sticker it would say, “My son is an honor student in the Texas Department of Criminal Justice.”
When we expect someone else to change to meet our desires, when we expect them to quit doing what they are doing that hurts us, themselves or others, our expectations are what cause us pain. We must learn to quit expecting things to happen that are not going to happen. It doesn’t matter if it is winning a lotto drawing against all odds, or if it is that the person we love will “see the light” and quit behaving in a dysfunctional manner. We must accept reality, and expect what is likely to happen.
I used to have a sign in my office; I wish I still had it. It said, “I feel so much better since I gave up hope.” I didn’t know at the time just how right that sign was.
Since I gave up hope that my son would change, I no longer have unmet expectations. I no longer hold on to that malignant, cancerous hope that ate at my every thought during every waking hour. I accept the fact that he is not going to change.
I may buy another lotto ticket some time, but I won’t expect to win. If I lose, I will not be crushed by the losing because I am going to keep my expectations real.
Oxy
Thanks.
I would come at it a little different. Even though saying the same thing. Expectation is neutral it’s self. It’s what we expect that defines our expectation. When we change what we expect it redefines our expectation and changes our reality to the situation.
Hope as used most often to day is more of I wish. In the bible it is with great expectation. But just below faith which is we believe some thing is true or will happen that we do not see in the physical world yet.
spoon
I would add that trust works the same way. We trust but it’s what we trust them to do or not do that defines the word trust.
I trust your truthful. I trust you’ll lie.
spoon
Well…….I have a hard time with this cognitive therapy approach, though, I realize it probably works, and of course, that’s a good thing, right? After all, all we want is to stop suffering, right?
First of all, why should I try to manipulate myself out of feeling the way I do? Why am I somehow to blame because I feel angry, hurt, confused, betrayed, abandoned…oh, I see, it’s all in my head….I’m doing this to myself, oh, my bad….here, let me re-think this…..ok, now I’ve got it, everything’s fine….just fine….Now that I put a new spin on it, I don’t feel anything, yep, it was all my fault, I just thought myself into being hurt. Gotcha.
I understand that we can wallow, and I understand that our thoughts can create our reality, but, I am a firm believer in accepting, and experiencing our emotions, especially if we have been denying them for a very long time. I’m done with self-blame.
Reality is plastic, yeah, and so are spaths and abusive ass-holes who want you to suck up the blame.
Oh, and FINE, as in, I’m fine, to me translates to: Fucked up, Insecure, Neurotic, and Ego-centric. Anytime I say I’m fine, I’m probably lying.
Spoon,
In the story in the Bible about Joseph, who was sold into slavery by his brothers whose origiinal intent had been to kill him, we see both forgiveness and judging HOW much to trust someone who as “done you wrong in the past.”
Joseph as he matured and spent time in prison unjustly accused of trying to rape his owner’s wife (I don’t think anyone actually believed her because if they truly had believed her I think he would have been put to death instead of put inn prison) but in any case, during his time in prison, Joseph came to see that he had no real control over his life, that GOD was the one in control and then when he rose up to be second only to the king, he realized that GOOD had come out of him being shipped off to Egypt, because of his planning due to te dreams that the king had had, there was food in plenty during the 7 dry years.
So Joseph had FORGIVEN his brothers what they did to him, but when they unexpectedly showed up, he did NOT immediately let them know who he was it had been 20-30 years since he had seen them and though HE HIMSELF had changed from an obnoxious, narcissistic spoiled brat of a teenager that he had been when they sold him, hhe wanted to know what kind of men THEY had become during that time. Were they STILL the kind of men who would sell off a blood relative they didn’t like, and CRUSH the spirit of their father thinking the boy dead, and torn to shreds by a lion or some wild beast? Or had they repented of what they had done?
Since Joseph ad ABSOLUTE power in that country in those days he TESTED the brothers by accusing them falsely of stealing….and making them bring the youngest brother with them when they came for grain again. Then he put the youngest brother into prison falsely accused of stealing….to see what the brothers would do. Would they sacrifice themselves to save their father from losing his only other son from Joseph and Benjamin’s dead mother? What kind of men were his brothers now?
I had read the story of Joseph testing his brothers many times and didn’t understand that he wasn’t just “BEING MEAN’ to them, there was a BIG PURPOSE in what he did to them. It let him know what kind of men his brothers were UNDER DURESS.
If he had just said to them when e first saw them “Hi, I’m your brother Joseph” he would not have known for sure what kind of men they were as they would have ACTED glad to see him. This way Joseph KNEW they would sacrifice themselves to save their father grief. BIG DIFFERENCE. They were SORRY for what they had done in the past.
Knowing Who to TRUST and HOW MUCH to trust someone depends on a lot of things. People may SAY they are “sorry” for what they did to us in the past, and we may WANT to believe that, but we must be sure that people EARN our trust, and especially if they have shown themselves to be capable of deceit or abuse in the past.
Kimmie, we posted over each other.
I don’t think anyone is saying that we need to DENY our feelings, feelings are REAL, but at the same time, we can CHOOSE to focus on the “angry” or “bitter” feelings and if we do choose to focus on those we will not be able to focus on the “happy” feelings.
So what we CHOOSE to focus on is what we tend to feel more.
Sure, I could choose to focus entirely on the feelings of anger that I have toward my egg donor for financing Patrick’s parole attorney and for sending money to the man who tried to have me killed. In fact just writing this about her makes my anger flare, but I choose NOT to focus on this, but to ACCEPT that what IS, IS WHAT IS, and focus on something else.
I find that counting my blessings each day, just making a list of the things I HAVE that are what I need, starting with clean water to drink, a roof over my head, a son that loves me and is here for me and has my back, more than enough to eat, medical care, being mentally alert and competent…even though her hips are going to go bad pretty soon, I do have a dog that will protect me with her life right NOW, and so on, THe list of my blessings is LONG and the more I concentrate on that list of blessings rather than on the anger, the better I feel.
So, yea, there are some negative things in my world…Patrick’s up coming parole, the fear that he may send another of his “friends” to off me….those things are there in the back of my mind, I FEEL them but I don’t CONCENTRATE on them if that makes sense.
Kim, I don’t believe (IMHO) that it is “wrong” or somehow dysfunctional to deny feelings of anger, rage, fury, fear, or any other emotion that could be construed as “negative.”
I also don’t believe that supressing those true and “normal” feelings are healthy. They are REAL feelings, just because they are. Acknowledging those feelings, ranting about them, venting, and purging myself of those feelings allows me to excise that venom, squeeze it out, and sit back after all is said and done, and sort it out as to how I can avoid experiencing those feelings, again, especially if they were caused by the actions and choices of someone else.
I’ve typed this numerous times, but it’s true: healing and recovery is no easy task. It isn’t pleasant, for the most part, because the TRUE healing begins when the focus turns towards myself. Once I get all of that anger out of my system, it’s easier to breathe and observe my own actions and choices – I’m not focusing on HATING that rat-bastid so much.
Also, I think what causes people to believe that feeling anger and other “negative” emotions is “bad” is that, somewhere along the way, we were taught that our emotions weren’t important or valid. So, instead of learning how to process my anger in a healthy, productive way, I learned how to turn that anger inwards and choke it back. And, where I am personally concerned, this is absolutely NOT healthy. If I don’t get that anger OUT of my system, I go around with a simmering fury that will boil over.
So…..yeah……
Brightest blessings
Kim,
One day the spath made me cry. It was one of the worst fights we’d had and I don’t remember why we were fighting. I was crumpled on the floor in despair wishing I was dead, while he sat stoically. I couldn’t believe that I would wish for death. It seemed so unlike me and I realized that only the spath had ever made me feel that way. Then I remembered that his ex-gf had committed suicide and I realized that it was HIM making me feel this way.
Before this realization, I thought it was me. I thought there was something wrong with me and my ability to be happy.
This new perception changed everything. I didn’t want to die anymore, because I knew there was nothing wrong with me, it was him.
Of course, years later, when I remembered back to that day, I also remembered that there was someone else who had made me wish I was dead: my parents.
But luckily, on that day, I didn’t remember that.
Spaths manipulate our perceptions. My spath knew exactly how to make me feel like my life was worthless and I almost fell for it. I was saved by recognizing that HE was pulling those strings.
This is also the reason why spaths are all paranoid. They know that they manipulate other people’s realities and they assume that everyone is trying to do that to them. In fact, they are SURE of it. They are constantly trying to defend against being fooled.
Even still, I would say they are the easiest people to fool. Ironic.
Truthy, and Ox, I know. I do, I’m just in a negitive space at the moment….on a rant.
I spent so many years trying to ward off a crisis of awareness…..of the truth, by denying and just going about my business, that when I couldn’t deny my reality anymore, my whole universe, along with all my beliefs, cherished ideals, self-concept, and everything else, caved in.
It became clear to me, then, that it wasn’t all in my head. That I wasn’t the magical creature I thought I was, who could contol my universe by denying reality, and ignoring my feelings.
I had been taught from day one not to feel.
There are three rules that children from alcoholic families live by:
1. Don’t talk.
2. Don’t trust.
3. Don’t feel.
My spathic X took these three commandments to new heights, and I, being the little trooper that I am, fell right in.
He went so far as to tell me, he should take me out to the back-yard and shoot me, to put me out of my misery. Ahhhh, yes, I was punished for feeling bad. I was punished for being confused. I was punished for being dissappointed. I was punished for not worshipping him like God.
I was seduced. Totally. He promised me so much, and delivered nothing but heart-ache. Oh, the lovely love-bomb. I was wrong. My dear Mother was wrong. She told me to marry someone who loved me more than I loved him. I loved my spath, but, truley, I chose him, because I believed he LOVED me. Sucks. Even a little narcissistic, isn’t it? Well, I learned my lesson.
And what a repetition it was. I was alone in a family by myself, and lying about it. The way I always was.
Familiar, and yet not right.
Anyway, the holidays are so very triggering.
X-spath was at the height of devalue and disgard with me and idealization of the girl at Christmas….he was agonizing over whether to leave me, or leave her,,,he absolutely HAD to chose, as he (we?) were being moved out of state. Military.
On Christmas Day, he walked out the door and spent the rest of the day with her.
On January 8th we left town, and moved to Florida. I had a wobbly idea of what had happened.
In May, shit hit the fan and reality dawned. Crazy.
This is the most devistating truth I know: the people I have most loved encouraged my dependancy on them, then left me alone with my own devises. Because of my dependancy, they felt contempt, and felt entitled to abuse me, knowing I believed I had no alternative…that was a belief they implanted in me, and, because I believed I had No choice, I began to HOLD MYSELF in contempt. My self respect was shattered. I needed them to the point of self abandonment. Now, that hurts.