Print

Print


Dear Dr. Tim & friends: Thank you for your thoughtful,insightful & darn
good piece about the "mask of PD". Unlike Zorro or poker players, we
mere humans depend on our faces to convey our true feelings: to take the
sting out of a reprimand, to show our concern and sympathy, to say "I
love you". This part of my disease is very hard for me to deal with. I
used to be a bartender in my previous life (BPD)& I must admit that I
could tell a joke or a story with the best of them. I  had a strong,
expressive voice and a kinda "Jim Carey" face to go along with it! My
other vanity was my handwriting-everyone commented on what a lovely hand
I had. I guess this must be God's way of teaching me humility-kinda
like being a Cubs fan. I didn't realize that my mask was so noticable,
until my kids (8 & 10) asked me why I was never happy anymore. They were
hurt that their home-made Christmas gifts we're the huge hit that they
usually were. Since then, I  have made ar real efffort to speak more
with my eyes. It has been a hard thing to accomplish & takes a real
effort on my part & it never works when I'm really tired but I think
it's worth the effort to really be there for my family. I didn't believe
that it could really work until my I told my husband that I loved him &
he said that he knew-he could see it in my eyes.
Fortunatly, I live in a wonderful small town & during my two
palllidotomies, the local newspaper gave me my 15 minutes of fame! So
most people feel as if they know me & come up & speak to me but it is
easy to understand that some people could quickly feel "out of the
flow";
especially in a big, uncaring city. I remember a couple of years ago
going out to dinner with my husband & another couple in the nearby city.
We were all dressed up and going to an art opening-just the kind of
function which I would have loved! After standing in line forever, we
finally got in & the crowd & the smoke & the stress of having to be me
just got to me. I begged my husbnd to get me out of there & later
on,safe at home, I was watching an Art Garfunkle concert on tv, crying.
I swore that that was the last time I would subject myself to those
awful feelings again. It took along time & alot of courage just to go
grocery shopping again. I think how hard that period of my life was & I
thank God for helping me find the courage to go out the door again.
Best, Joan