I was invited by my very good friend, Brenda, to attend a class that she is teaching on pain management. Ever since I told her that I have trigeminal neuralgia, she has been encouraging me to attend. It's a 6 week long class, once a week on Thursday mornings at 10:00 AM.
I told her I was not entirely comfortable going. She insisted I would even be a great teacher for the class. Flattering, but I knew better. I gave her every argument I could think of, even that I am not actually in that much pain right now. Denial? Certainly. She went on to tell me that its not just physical pain that is dealt with, but all kinds of emotional pain, too. I suppose what won me over was that she said if she gets so many people to attend 4 of the six classes each session, she qualifies for federal grant money to teach the class. So I said I would go.
I was also so impressed at how Brenda takes her material to the women's county jail and teaches the sessions. She told me stories of these women, and it brought me to tears. I told her I didn't think I could teach it. I'm much too emotional. So she said, "No, really, you would be a great teacher. Just come to a session and see."
I couldn't make it to last Thursday's class because I was out of town. So I went this morning.
RED FLAG #1:
Brenda was not there. Two elderly women were team teaching the class.
RED FLAG #2:
"Class, now we are going to do what is called 'brain storming'! Let me explain what this is. I present an idea and write it on the chalkboard, and all of you just shout out your ideas about what you think it means! ok, ready?..."
RED FLAG #3: "Pick a partner, someone you don't know. Tell this partner what causes you to feel anxiety in your life and why. After 4 minutes, switch, and you listen to what causes your partner anexiety for 4 minutes. Afterwards everyone will share with the class what their partner's anxieties are. We will list them all on the chalkboard and then 'brainstorm' together for ideas of how to cope!"
Nooooo.....! Not feelings. I didn't know they would want me to talk about my feeeeelings.
I quickly told my partner that not knowing when trigeminal neuralgia may strike me causes me to feel out of control, and I don't like feeling out of control. That was pretty much a cut and dried general answer, no need to go into details about my life.
One gentleman shared how his partner (in this exercise) had expressed his frustration over being bi-polar, how he hates himself and wants to commit suicide. The man with PB disorder sat straight faced, eyes glazed. The teacher asked with a tremor in her voice how to list that on the chalkboard. You could have heard a pin drop. The man with BP disorder said something, I don't remember what. I was in shock.
Side note: Twenty minutes before going to class this morning, I found out one of my best friend's fathers shot himself last night. Reality slapped me upside the head.
Break time with snack food and water. Hour 3 begins. (Didn't Brenda say it was to last two hours? )
RED FLAG #4: We were to open the manual and see illustrations of stretching exercises, as we talked about the various illustrations.
RED FLAG #5: I'll admit I was bored. I flipped through the manual. Chapter 12 was on how to cope sexually...positions, touching...TMI! At least there were no illustrations.
Back to RED FLAG #4: the stretching exercise illustrations. "First we have the neck stretching illustration. Tilt your head to the left..."
AND I couldn't take it anymore.
This class was not for me. I know it must be a wonderful tool for those in need of support and emotional and physical pain relief, but I am not in need of either. Maybe I am in denial, or I maybe I am crazy, but grant money or no grant money, I could not stay another moment.
I quietly excused myself and got as far as my car in the parking lot, when one of the teachers came running out after me. (Rats!). "Remember, next Thursday's class will be at the other building..."
"Okay! Thanks!"
"...don't you want your manual?"
"Uh, no, no, you keep it. I am not sure this class is for me, but thanks!"
Oh, I feel awful. But I feel better knowing I don't have to go back and share my feelings about things and discuss my sex life. I don't know what to say to Brenda. I suppose the truth is the best idea.
