I thought that boundaries only applied to the division of an area based on governing parties. You have boundary lines on your property that were set when the deed was written. Where children go to school is determined by boundary lines created by school boards.
Writing tons of papers in school and taking computer classes taught me all about Word boundaries. The words do not pass this point, you go to the next line. A typewriter dings when you run out of a line. Hit the snazzy arm and you have a new line, almost like a one-armed bandit (slot machine) in satisfaction level.
I first heard about personal boundaries when I read a book by Christine Caine. The book is called “Unashamed” and when I read it I realized that personal boundaries were not something I had in my life.
I learned at an early age that there was no personal space in my family. My mom was going to know anything and everything she wanted to know. Which as children, we need our parents to teach us how to set our personal boundaries. Lacking this important life skill will quite frankly leave you feeling ashamed.
What are boundaries?
Today, I told my therapist about a telephone conversation I had with my mother. I recently had surgery and I am still in the stages of recovery. I have some anxiety associated with being unsure what I recovered enough to do or not.
My boyfriend had asked me to change the sheets and I had reminded him that I was not supposed to strain myself. Even fully healthy, putting a fitted sheet on his a task in itself and hard work. He had forgotten it had only been a week since my surgery and conceded it was a bad idea.
My mom texted me and asked me to call her. I call her and she starts going on about things that are not happening to her directly without getting to the point of the matter. I just sit there taking the negativity and I can feel my lungs tightening up.
She finally gets to the point and I agree to something that requires physical activity on my part. I am at the point that I am not thinking straight. The panic attack is laying in wait. I know it’s coming and I just want off the phone.
I make attempts to get off the call, but she goes on down the road of things that are none of my business. The negativity keeps going. I’m looking at my puppy as though he’s going to magically get me off the phone. Finally, I get off the phone.
I text my boyfriend and tell him about the high anxiety. He calls me and asks me why I can’t just say I’m busy. Something that’s easier said than done for me.
My therapist told me to journal about boundaries. I figured, why not blog about it a bit. So, here I am exploring this fabulous topic that seems to allude me.
I did a Google search on boundaries and found some definitions for boundaries.
You decide what you allow in.
Anger is your sign.
Anger being a sign that someone has crossed a line. I think that any type of emotional distress is going to be a strong indicator that you are past your limit.
My boundary was crossed when I was uncomfortable and trying to check out of the conversation. The boundary was further pushed, much like the boundary line between the countries of Georgia and Russia, and I was on way to a Chernobyl size panic attack.
I still have a lot of questions about boundaries and it evokes the fear of shame.
“…Nothing’s fine, I’m tornTorn – Natalie Imbruglia
I’m all out of faith
This is how I feel
I’m cold and I am shamed
Lying naked on the floor
Illusion never changed
Into something real
I’m wide awake and I can see
The perfect sky is torn
You’re a little late, I’m already torn…”
So, this is my first step… my first entry. I face down my fears. I can become unashamed. It’s just going to take some work to get me there.