Damn it Cheryl! That Hurts! Let GO!

Freud concocted many different theories about how a person develops psychological. Most of his theories have holes in them and have been thrown out of the spotlight. But every once in a while, Freud made a claim that holds some water. Freud suggested that the emotional tie an infant develops with its mother is the basis of later attachments to people in its life. Early theories revolved around how feeding the infant creates an emotional response to the mother (Beck 1999). However, this idea was shown invalid when Bowlby played with his rhesus monkeys (1969). The gist of his experiments was that a baby monkey would cling to the soft terry cloth surrogate mother rather than the hard wire surrogate mother that provided the bottle. The baby monkeys even learned how to lean over to drink the milk without detaching from the soft mother (Bowlby 1969). This study suggests that infants of monkeys attach to the object that brings them, and evolutionarily speaking, we as people attach our selves to those which bring us the most comfort.

Attachment is defined as “the strong emotional tie that humans feel toward special people in their lives” (Beck 1999). Attachment is developed through all those little things primary caregivers do. These primary caregivers become secure bases, and become a place where the child is always able to turn. In securely attached infants this means they experience slight anxiety when there secure bases leaves, but are happy when the base returns (Ainsworth). As one ages, this reliance does spread to cover many people. These are the people one can always turn to, no matter the time or distance that has separated them. The knowledge that these people exist in one’s life brings comfort.

This brief psychology lesson does have a point. My Mercy Girls are people who have scattered all over the place pursuing various ventures. However, when we all get together (or as many of us as possible), it is like no time has passed and I am able to engage with them as though we were still in our tight knit high school group. This is because as a child I always had a secure base in my parents, especially my mother. When the shit hits the proverbial fan, she is usually the first call I make. I am comforted by knowing she is near and feel less burdened when in her presence. Stress melts away and even though I am still 23 years old, a hug can dampen the progress of my tears.

Outside of my mother and family, I feel some of my friends from college serve as some of the best secure bases a person could have. I call when I have problems and need solid advice; because I trust them and know they have only my best interest in mind. This usually involves me calling at strange hours of the night and so upset and broken down that they need to speak Cheryl fluently to help me out. The prime examples of these secure bases know who they are. I hope they know they can always expect the same quality care they give me from me.

Again, the Mercy Girls are a secure base for me. I love to bounce ideas off of them in our online Facebook thread, and they do the same. Their advice is presented with personal experience and sometimes concrete evidence. These ladies have helped each other (myself included) through some rough times involving boys, troubles at home, and troubles with the world. I trust them with my problems and they trust me.

Finally, although some find it weird, I do have two secure bases in my ex-boyfriends. Some view this as a safety net; on the contrary, it is just a place for me to regroup and keep walking. I do not turn to them because I feel I need to rebound from failure, but rather because they know me very well and are able to offer the encouraging words that I need to keep my head above water. They understand they are my friends and as such they offer me warm friendship and do not do anything to steer me wrong.

And to think, Freud predicted this all because I have a good relationship with my mother. The only time I have had severe problems with attaching to people was when I had friends who liked everyone else than they like me. At times they hated me and were only my fried for some undisclosed malicious reason. I wish this did not happen. It made me feel as though I was a clingy, overbearing friend who really did not fit in anywhere. I carried this inadequate feeling with me to Mercy. Of course, over time I felt so totally included that these feelings vanished into oblivion. When I went to college, I knew I could find people who I could care deeply about who would reciprocate these feelings. At times my friendships with others are put to the test, but I find the ones that truly matter always survive and although I can mourn shattered friendships, I still have a few gems stored safely.

Looking back, I feel as though it was less my attachment style and more the type of men I was trying to attach to was the problem with the failings in my love life. I was always trying to attach to people who were not emotionally available or in other ways non-accessible. In one case I lied about my true feelings so I could remain close to someone. This made me a self conscious clingy mess, but I feel it is more the result of the pretense into which I entered the relationship than due to my attachment style. Also, my mental health can at times be rather unstable, and this can also lead to me forming bad relationships with members of the opposite sex. Overall, I feel that this has no bearing on my attachment style.

On a final note, it should be mentioned I was always a well-adjusted child. This means my parents served as very good secure bases, as did a select few of my extended family and one good childhood friend. It was not until after I left the supportive environment of a private parochial school and entered into the public school did I start to become emotionally unstable (aka not well-adjusted). Adolescent hormone changes and a poor support network outside of my house fueled havoc and ultimately led to maladjustment. This maladjustment hung over me, and although I had and now have secure bases, the damage was done. I feel as though the cat was let out of the bag, and even when it hides and is calm, sometimes it just has to come out. My depression is that cat, and my teen years let it out and even a fantastic support network can only help keep it at bay, not completely obliterate it. I guess the point I am trying to make is my attachment is secure and other circumstances (poor support network at school, genetic predisposition, alcohol, etc) have led to my instability.

And I swear this is the final thing I am going to say. My mother and I are really close and she loves me greatly, but I am pretty sure sometimes she just wants to close the door and scream “Damn it Cheryl! Let GO!”


Works that I read and drew upon
Ainsworth, M. D. S., Blehar, M. C., Waters, E., & Wall, S. (1978). Patterns of attachment. Hillsdale, NJ: Erlbaum.

Berk, L., E. (1999) Infants, Children, and Adolescents. 3ed. Boston: Allyn and Bacon

Bowlby, J. (1969) Attachment and loss: Vol I. Attachment. New York: Basic Books

Fog and Ice in My MInd

I’m slipping. The past few weeks I have felt off balance, slipping around my world in a confused frantic state. I have been missing appointments and forgetting to get all my blood work done. I simply forgot that my 2nd most important prescription needed to be filled. Everyday of the regular week, I take my mother to work. After I return home, I lie down and take a nap. This nap can range anywhere from two to three hours. After this disruptive nap, I usually have to then hurriedly get ready for work, neglecting all house work. Mind you, this is after getting at least seven hours of sleep the night before.

As for the sleeping problem, one hypothesis is that I am suffering from the fact that it is winter and curling up in bed is much more appealing than cleaning the house. I can accept that. This would mean that I need to just wait it out. Another possibility is my schedule at work is too disruptive to my sense of time. I work 2pm to 10pm. It is quite a weird schedule. But it works w/ me because then I am at work during the time when I am most active. Not to mention, in theory, I should be able to get things done before work. The last and most probable hypothesis is that the med I take for sleep is making me so groggy that I am unable to shake the grogginess after I am awake about half an hour (the time it takes me to take my mother to work). When I do not have to take my mother to work, I sleep to roughly to 9am. This gives me between nine or ten hours of sleep. Sleeping that much does not feel right, nor does it help me. I feel more rundown and exhausted after sleeping that long.

The forgetting important information and items is more troubling, and combined with the sleep, quite frightening. I feel as though this might be a sign of the reoccurrence of my depression. It might be rearing its ugly head, ready to barf vile vomit all over my rather nice life. This is quite scary indeed. I had finally had a spell that made me think it was in remission; that is might be time to wean off the Zoloft. But these changes, these slip ups, are only adding to the fear that I will be on SSRIs the rest of my life, and will never be able to manage my mood on my own. The pain of having to accept this reality is really more than I would desire to feel.

So now the conundrum is, how do I fix something like this? My first response is to wait and see what happens. But now looking at this solution, I feel it is irresponsible. A fog has settled over my mind, and it is making me irresponsible and neglectful. This is not acceptable. I need to figure out what the problem is before I fall on the ice and smack my head. The damage could be irreparable.

My mind is made up, and I will try to clear the fog and deice my mind. I have started working out again. I will need to become more diligent in my agenda maintenance and actually refer to it everyday. I have to make a more active attempt to manage my naps, whether it is make sure I get a list of things done before I nap. I am responsible for my actions, and I intend not to slip on the ice and drive in fog.