One Repressed Emotion

One repressed Emotion:

I remember monitoring my Blood Pressure to rid myself of taking the drug Lisiniprol for high blood pressure. A doctor prescribed 5 mg the lowest dose available that I took happily and ignorantly for 2012 through 2013. Being an investigating type, I eventually constructed an Excel sheet that I inputted my Systolic and Diastolic three times daily, going month on and off taking the drug to see the effects and catalog the readings.

Going from one room to another to take a reading I passed the TV airing a news documentary of two teenagers planning and killing a beautiful young girl. It was a sickening topic, disgraceful to the depths of my imagination. I passed by and plugged in my blood pressure monitor in the next room and become diverted from the TV.

My monitor “Microlife” takes three consecutive readings and I was accustomed to scribbling them on a piece of paper. Horror struck me since the reading was at an all time high 167/96. I immediately checked the batteries and repeated the test. The reading remained high.

Later that day when inputting the figures into the spreadsheet I realized what had happened. Unknowingly I had repressed an emotion and my blood pressure had soared. The emotion was RAGE. The emotion was scooped up and put into the equivalent of a virus vault, so quickly, I didn’t even know it. On reflection I remembered Dr. Sarno stating TMS is caused by the emotions we don’t know we have, so this one was caught red-handed. I feel fortunate to have this experience firsthand, and have since paid more attention to how emotions are repressed.

I no longer monitor my blood pressure and stopped taking Lisiniprol. The prescribing doctor had good intentions and was just being cautious.

 

Anxiety Repression:

This year while on a windsurfing trip I wrote four pages of notes on my anxiety. I have been meaning to do this for several years now. I had read about Claire Weeks in 2010, read a review on her website and thought sounds good. For myself, it was important to define my low level and occasional anxiety. My purpose was to ask questions How, why, what etc on a personal level before seeking outside opinions.

The four pages were scribbled, untidy and had no order, and I kept on adding items of no consequence. These notes were pen written and I intended some real journaling on my computer at a later date.

On my return home I surprised myself, because I suddenly shredded them all in one sweep. They were gone! I was immediately upset at what I had done. It was as if someone else had done this, but I was alone, it was really me.

I’d be interested in other opinions as to why I shredded these notes?

 

Accumulated repressed emotions:

In windsurfing there is a maneuver called jibing. It means turning the board around at the end of a run. It is akin to “acing a serve”, getting a “touchdown” or “scoring a goal”. This essential part of windsurfing has eluded me in part since I have become non-caring and relaxed in my retirement. My attitude was part laziness and part stress reduction. I am not a very competitive person seeing it as a major point of stress in some. Lone windsurfing for me was fun, as I compete against the wind and waves; no chance of me ever winning as such. As a lone windsurfer I also avoid contact other people who always seem to want to organize me. You know the type; I call them “professional organizers”.

This season two unsolicited windsurfers, brothers named Ted and Chuck, picked me up on my lack of jibes. Between them they had obviously been discussing this and felt I needed improvement. They were both leaders similar age to myself, used to giving instructions and orders in the military and medical professions. I remember getting hot and prickly under the collar as they depicted the correct way I could improve my jibing, I was embarrassed and made an exit at the first opportunity.

The same thing happened the next day, and I began to become quite angry inside. I spent a night agonizing internal thoughts directed at these two brothers that were supposed to be my friends, how dare they? For their windsurfing indeed had certain flaws, no one is perfect, were they boosting their egos acting superior to me? I could have ended it right there and then by suggesting I fall in on purpose to cool my hemorrhoids off, but couldn’t get the nerve to say this.

Determined to get my own back I put more effort into jibing, cussing comments like: “f…k Tom f…k Chuck”. I began accomplishing more and more jibes until I did 10 in a row, and eventually had some dry runs without falling in. Discussing this with another windsurfer of a more positive nature, who also had a similar experience with Ted and Chuck I agreed to revise my chant, since he pointed out they had done me a favor. Indeed they had, my jibes have been amiss for at least 4 years. Chanting: “ Thank you Ted thank you Chuck”, worked just as well for the rest of the windsurfing season.

Thinking psychologically, I later realized the full depth of my internal deception. For four years I had given myself and excuse to fail with accumulated thoughts like: “I don’t need to jibe”, “I don’t care”, and “nobody can see me”. I had repressed the idea of success and become my own worst enemy. Instead of imagining myself succeeding I had done the opposite. I immediately thought of the importance of athletic coaches that use psychology in sport training. You know being retired is quite nice, but I had unknowingly eliminated the idea of caring about this essential part of windsurfing! Even in retirement the need for a challenge should be met.

This example stands me in good stead of how accumulated emotions creep in over time without even knowing it. So next year I will thank Ted and Chuck and offer them a beer for they indeed did me a big favor, as I hope my jibing continues to improve.

 

Dangerous Repression:

It was five years ago that I mentioned to my doctor concerns about my vision. He abruptly said I needed to get my eyes checked out. Up to this point I had only had my eyes checked out at optometrists to update my reading glasses. I put his comment on the back burner, as he was rather gruff and gave no medical explanation; I left with a feeling of negativity about my eyes, (repression).

Wearing spectacles for a lifetime, I was up to three pairs for different needs and considered the reading ones to be the most important. I had not yet noticed slight difficulties while driving. Several years passed and I started thinking in terms of Lasik surgery that would take care of all my vision problems including driving, I remember shuddering on seeing the freeway bill board advertisements, I was very squeamish and did nothing, (repression).

I had several near misses while driving over the next two years the final one at a Beverly Hills intersection when I ran a red light. Finally admitting to myself that this one was my own fault, I put it down to tiredness, since I had spent a whole day at Cedar Sinai meeting with banks of doctors for pre admittance for my wife’s surgery. I was so stressed, I had a filthy row with my wife and she actually ended up driving home. Even after this event, I still did not get the real picture what was happening, (repression).

2015 rolls around and I get notification to submit to a DMV eye test and driving license and renewal. My accumulated tension was pretty high at this point, as I nearly failed the eye exam in front of a huge audience. I was so self-conscious and nervous the kind DMV lady took me to a more private machine and literally coached me through the exam. I somehow scraped a pass, and had my new photo taken without glasses. Failing to me would have meant the admission of a personal flaw, (repression). I also discovered DMV ladies can be very nice.

I was recommended to an Ophthalmologist and for the first time submitted to banks of new tests. I kept thinking: “Lasik, Lasik”, thoughts that dominated my brain, I was scared. When the Dr. said the word “Cataract” I was aghast and did not hear much after that. I said: “I did not have them a year ago at the Costco check up”. He answered: “Well you have them now and they need fixing, I doubt you would pass the DMV test!”

There was a certain amount of relief hearing the word “Cataract”, my repression was revealed. I looked back at all that had happened and everything was explained even running a red light in Beverly Hills. Cataracts (cloudy lenses) were not TMS, but TMS implications, the repression, the fear emotions and denial over five years definitely were. My repression as described above could have ended in a catastrophe. I had five successful eye surgeries and procedures over the next year and no longer wear reading glasses.

 

Thanks for pointing me to this whole thread, Andy - I think it's a fascinating insight into how our brains can really work us over. And I'm going to take your lisinopril experience under serious consideration, thank you for that.

I do have to laugh a bit at this one - and the initial impetus for the notes:

Andy, you are such an engineer!

You might say that a CPA is just as bad, and you might be right. On the other hand, it takes one to know one, and as I've had a number of engineer clients during my career, I believe I can say with confidence that you guys win the prize

So, did you read Claire Weekes or not?

 

Hi Jan,

These stories are indeed rather quaint and very rare for me, they are all true. My anxiety tale was very strange, but each story in itself shows how repression is with us on a daily basis without us even being aware. Dr, Sarno spoke of nasty repressed emotions, but I have come to believe we repress and suppress all day long for different reasons, there is a whole new area to explore here.

No, I did not read any Claire Weeks books yet, but I did read the preface of one of them and even that help me understand that anxiety was mainstream and acceptable. For myself I wanted to define my understanding of anxiety before going further. Over several days I made loads of notes to journal with, they were really good and outlined my personal experiences and questions. I remember watching them go through the shredder and how angry I felt.

I have made a possible list of reasons why I shredded up my notes.

• I did not want to face anxiety, coming from a background where it was shunned as a moral weakness.
  
• They were untidy. Being a draughtsman where neatness is the order of the day, they offended my orderliness. I remember I could not deface the exercises pages in Dr Schubiner’s book Unlearn Your Pain. I am sure he would understand this!
  
  
• Perhaps I am not ready to face anxiety yet, my level compared to most is very low. On occasion I have had heavy stress and anxiety set in, and take action with distraction and exercise.
  
  My wife calls me a worrier, which I admit to. I guess they are the same, but we need worry to keep us on the straight and level, so I have put this one on the back burner to explore, perhaps this summer when I am windsurfing.

My main advice for Linisipril is to keep records to see if it’s effective or not. You probably only need to do this once to see this to find out for yourself. Lainey and Mindbody point out very real concerns about blood pressure, but it would be nice for you to find out for sure that like mine that it is stress related.
Be well and happy Andy

 

I happily lived with chronic anxiety my whole life (doing the SEP, I clearly remembered a family trip where I felt extreme anxiety about an unscheduled stop to take a little hike - I was probably 8 years old. I also remembered going through a couple of periods where I exhibited bizarre little OCD symptoms, at ages 6 and 9.) But it wasn't until I was 60, in the summer of 2011 when everything started coming to a crisis point, that I started experiencing disabling panic attacks and emerging depression. I had read The Divided Mind and was experiencing the remission of many physical TMS symptoms, but it was Hope & Help For Your Nerves that saved me from the mental equivalents.

 

Hi jan,

Yes I remember that age of 6 and 8. Indeed I must have had anxiety as well. Looking back I unknowingly had OCD. I found comfort in Humphrey my Koala teddy bear, I used to scratch him, by the age of 8 he was completely bald. To this day I get a comforting thrill when I see a Koala.

 

Hi Jan,

The effort in finding repressed emotions isn’t always a bad experience. Discussing Humphrey my Koala teddy yesterday I realized some additional amusing anecdotes.

I seem to have gained more nurturing from Humphrey than I did from my mother. Her own mother did not impart the normal skills of motherhood, so forgiveness is much needed. This was my norm at the time I do not remember feeling hard done by at the time. It goes to show repression is a natural survival asset since we have to get by.

Also I inadvertently avoided an important thing about Humphrey. Indeed by the time I was eight he was completely bald and worn out. I remember negotiating with my twin brother for his Koala teddy, (he didn’t need it as much as I). So with the exchange of some of my comics I had obtained a Humphrey #2. Further musing got me thinking that the first one lasted 8 years, which by my engineering logic meant that I could have been scratching Humphrey at the age of 16.

I went to sleep last night laughing

 

I have been reading Claire Weekes, about half way through Hope and Help for your Nerves. That Anxiety Guy (youtube channel) is doing a chapter by chapter discussion of the book. That is helping me as well.