LIving my life as a fake

Many years ago I was told it was a wonder I had any friends and that if anyone ever knew the real me they wouldn't like me.

Oh how those words have stuck with me and shaped who I am, or who I am not.

I've lived the last 30 years waiting for everyone to find out my secret, that I am not the person they think I am, unless of course they think I'm a stupid, self-centered bitch.

I wait for people at work to find out I've been fooling them all and really have no clue what I'm doing and I'd be better off being put in the corner to sort good rubber bands from the dried out ones.

I wait for my friends to realize they can't be friends with someone like me.  Even though right now I have the best group of friends a person could ask for, including ones that know I think like this and take the time to point out I'm the only one who doesn't get who I am.

I get squirrely in the brain when someone sees my wreck pictures and is amazed I'm here.  I hadn't looked at them in years and took them to Michael's therapy last week for a few people to see.  Bugged out eyes and words like "you're a miracle" should be embraced, but more often than not I think they are a wee bit on the crazy side and wonder why they don't few me as being overly dramatic about a fender bender.

Then there is my weight loss.  Oh the pages I could write on that.  Oh you're doing so good!  No I'm not, I downed a ton of cookies last night when someone (anyone) wasn't looking.  See, I am a fake Weight Watcher member.

Until just a day or so ago I had no clue that this has a name.  It's called Impostor Complex or sometimes Impostor Phenomenon.  Google it, you'll see my picture come up.  Ok, it doesn't, but it sure could.  Nothing like reading pages and pages of stories and documents that make you feel like you just found your owner's manual!

A great deal of the reading I have found already gives you steps to take to work through this kind of thinking.  I'm still working through the "holy crap, I'm not alone?!?!?" stage, but I do want to work past that.

This is one of the best articles I've read so far -

http://www.fastcompany.com/3036006/hit-the-ground-running/8-practical-steps-to-getting-over-your-impostor-syndrome

8 steps to overcoming impostor syndrome

1. Recognize that it exists.
2. When you receive positive feedback, embrace it with objectivity and internalize it. By denying it, you are hurting that person’s judgement.
3. Don’t attribute your successes to luck.
4. Don’t talk about your abilities or successes with words like "merely," "only," "simply," etc.
5. Keep a journal. Writing your successes and failures down gives you a retrospective insight about them, and re-reading them makes you remember equally both of them.
6. Recognize that the perfect performer doesn’t exist, and that problems will pop up eventually. Take them as little fires under you that make you move forward.
7. Be proud of being humble.
8. Remember that it’s okay to seek help from others, and that even the best do it.

#2 really hit home with me.  I negate what people say about me all the time!  I never thought about it as hurting that person's judgement.  If you told me you liked a certain color my response wouldn't be "well what the hell is wrong with you?  That's the most disgusting color I've ever seen and can't believe anyone likes that let alone you!"  I may not like the color, but I'd accept that you do.

So why is it if you say "your commitment to losing weight inspires me" my reaction is "if you knew what I really did you'd never say such a stupid thing again"?  Yes, I make some really bone headed choices, but I keep going.  Also sometimes I make those bone headed choices just to support my impostor habit.  Why do I not embrace that and celebrate that I can help someone in their own journey?  Why do I decide that people I respect and learn from are brilliant with all they have to offer except for their opinions and views about me?  How did I get to be so freaking special that I am an exception to everything else that comes out of their mouths?

I can say that my core group of trusted friends are people of integrity.  The don't get off on blowing smoke up people's rear ends.  All their opinions should carry equal weight.  I shouldn't cherry pick the value based on my own self serving needs.  I also need to apologize to them because in my mind they may say good job to me, but they also say it to the bananas at the supermarket for growing and their stapler for once again attaching multiple pieces of paper together.  Go Stapler!!!!

#3 is what I lump my whole wreck and recovery in.  Luck.  I was lucky to live, I'm lucky to have made it as far as I have.  Really, I was lucky it didn't kill me.  For whatever reasons, I survived long enough to get help and had the strength to hang on.   There are many "ifs" that play into my survival.  If I hadn't been found right away.  If I hadn't been flown to the trauma center.  If I hadn't had the surgeon I had.  If, if if if if if if.

Some of it can be called luck, good or bad.  I consider myself blessed that I was given a chance and I always negate that ever step after that was a choice.  In my head it was just what I needed to do.  No biggie, who wouldn't endure years of therapy, multiple surgeries, and keep fighting tooth and nail just to have their independence?  Gee, when I put it that way, I can see where people might be impressed.  If I'd chosen to just stay in the wheelchair no one would have ever thought less of me.  I'd still be the woman lucky to live through the crash, shame she's in a wheel chair.

Now with a few people it's "it's a shame she limps" and to them I can say screw you.  I walk, hell sometimes I jog thankyouverymuch.

#7 is a hard one for me.  At some point I developed an idea that accepting praise meant I was a self centered egotistical ass.  Plus how can you be proud of things people say about you when they are nit wits?  I am working on accepting praise, feeling the warmth of those sentiments, and using them to propel myself forward.

#1 is the only one I have mastered at this time.  Oh how glorious to read other people's stories and find I'm am so far from alone.  I'm not even in the running to be the poster child.  That says a lot right there ...

He said it better

From "Tough as they come" by Trevor Mills …

This is how I always feel when someone tells me they couldn't do what I've done. Travis just says it much better!

#nevergiveupneverquit

Sharing? Over sharing? Do I care?

Part of growing as a person is doing things that scare you.  Sharing my blog scares me.  They claim facing fears helps you grow as a person, so I'm sharing.

Now as for who "they" are, I don't know.  Are they the same they that say spinach is good for you or is it like government agencies with multiple "they" departments?

At any rate, here it is.  Or at least as much as I will let out at this time.  I'd ask that you be kind in the comments, but let's face it, if you're not, you probably aren't someone who matters to me anyhow.

Enjoy!
Karen
 

Karen, meet Karen

This morning I was looking at Facebook and happened across Mike Rowe's latest post.  I'll freely admit it, he's one of my crushes.  Dirty jobs ... I'll give you a ... never mind, I regress.

Any how, he had a wonderful veteran's day related post about this guy named Travis Mills.  You can read more about Travis here (http://www.travismills.org/) or look up Mike Rowe's FB post.

Travis, to make his story short, got blown up.  Blown up big time to the extent he lost all his limbs.  Now this is someone I can look at and think "damn, I didn't go through anything!" and a million other things, but while I can admit I did visit that spot briefly, it didn't last.

Instead as I read about him I thought "yes! someone else who GETS it!"

What is the it?

It is the position of having to deal with something that everyone else tells you they couldn't do.  I have no idea how many times I've been told "I couldn't do what you've done" in response to my crash, recovery and what I've done since.  It's hard to explain how that makes me feel.  First off, I don't take it as insult or anything negative, but more often it sends me into this introspective place.

Most people don't want a reply to that statement other than thank you.  Some times I want to answer them.  Standard reply is "I hope you never have to find out."  I guess it's odd to me because I probably would have said the same thing before I got my body rearranged.  I couldn't do what I've done.  Nope, no way, no how.

But when I was in the situation I didn't think I was going to die.  It never occurred to me to just give up and stay in the wheelchair.  I don't know how to explain it, but it seriously wasn't something I invested a lot of time into thinking through.  I just did it.  That's why when people say they couldn't do what I've done I think "well that's just plain silly, of course you could!"  Through my eyes it's not special or amazing, it's just what I needed to do.

If I really get hyper critical I do know that no, not everyone can do what I've done.  Not everyone has the stubbornness, determination, attitude, and humor to keep on going.  I've seen the ones who have given up.  I've seen the ones that frankly have a much easier road to travel that I did and they don't even bother looking where they might be able to go.

I think for me, the issue becomes one of humility versus pride when I discuss what I've over come.  It means the world to me when people share how I motivate them, how impressed they are, etc. at my journey, but at the same time it makes me feel like "who the hell do I think I am, I'm no one special."  My closest friends have chimed in on this when I bring it up and their opinion is that I should embrace the fact that I defied odds to be where I am.  Defying the odds means that I did make my own odds up.  My initial diagnosis was filled with lists of things I most likely wouldn't ever do again.  Fortunately I had a surgeon who never gave me that list.

Funny, I always give him credit for letting me try things and doing things in an unconventional way.  I have told the story a million times of how he left my arm the way it is (non-union) despite being told her could do it simply because "you don't know Karen."  I have always given him credit for that ... always ... great doctor who made that choice.  It's been about 11 years since that surgery and it never occurred to me until just this moment that I was the one that inspired him to make that choice.

Damn ... I can be really slow at times.  I never looked at it from his point of view.  What everyone else he consulted with saw was an arm that couldn't and wouldn't work.  What he saw was a woman who'd beaten other odds and would attempt to beat this one with the same fight and attitude as the rest of the battles.  He told me at the time he told his colleagues "you don't know Karen."  Funny, I guess I don't always know Karen either.  I'm getting to know her though.

To come back to my original point ... in reading about Travis I found myself connecting with his attitudes and words.  So much so that I ordered his book.  I so identified with his "I'm just me, only different" attitude because that's how I feel.  Yet, I can look at him and be in awe of what he's done.   I think he's helped me bridge the gap between pride of accomplishment and ego.  For me to publicly celebrate my accomplishments has always made me feel like an egomaniac.  Look at me, I over came all this ... what have you done with your life?

I never want to be that person.  Weird thing is in being that person, I've negated what I have done.  That really isn't far to me and it is holding me back from attacking what I still want to accomplish.  I'm starting to realize that I can be so very proud of myself and that beyond that I have to let go of how people take that.  Those who know me, know I would never use what I've been through to make them feel bad, but I've worried that I could give that message to others.  Now I realize that I can't control what people take from my story.  I've had a lot of wonderful people tell me how I've helped them in little ways here and there.  To me that keep me going, gives me hope, and reminds me to keep fighting.  I'd rather keep fueling myself and the people who need it than worry about offending someone who was looking to be offended and hurt.

Guess maybe it's time to let this blog be a little less private ....