I’m an Ostrich — My Sister Said So!
Let me explain what being an Ostrich means…
I don’t mind that Theresa, my sister labelled me an Ostrich recently because she’s absolutely right — I am. When life throws crap at me, I retreat and busy myself to avoid confrontation or facing up to the problem.
I’m very good at pretending it’s not happening, and I will subconsciously put my head in the sand — like an Ostrich!
I don’t immediately realise I’m doing it until someone tells me or I stop and analyse my actions.
It was 2008 when I first realised that I could ignore problematic situations. My mum calls it “Brushing it under the carpet”.
My ex of fifteen years had numerous affairs, but I ignored it. His odd and secretive behaviour was easy to ignore because life was busy.
I had a demanding job and three kids, so it was simpler to “brush it under the carpet”. Then, one day I was confronted with evidence that couldn’t be ignored. A neighbour told me she had seen him snogging a young woman in a nightclub. Bang! That moment when your blood runs cold, your world collapses, and you have no choice but to face it.
So when my ex left to be with the other woman, I threw myself into working even harder. I needed to escape from the painful hurt of betrayal bestowed upon me. I didn’t know it then, but throwing myself into work to escape reality was me ‘Ostriching’.
I’ve noticed that when I’m confronted with a situation that can’t be ignored, I revert to ‘Ostriching’ — my default setting! In 2008 I didn’t have a name for it, but I’ve recently labelled it ‘Ostriching’ since my sister told me I was an ostrich!
This behaviour has re-surfaced recently since the latest bombshell in my life -my mum being diagnosed with dementia. It’s been another bang, blood running cold, I can’t cope situation.
I know that my coping method of Ostriching back in 2008 is okay because it worked. I’ve dealt with the hurt and betrayal, and I’ve happily come out on the other side. Time ticks on, and so does life.
Refusing to participate fully and acknowledge a stressful situation is my way of dealing with things. Some might argue that by not confronting problems, I’m not dealing with them or I’m pretending it’s not happening, but I disagree. I deal with problems; I process stressful situations over an extended period of time than others might.
We can’t keep our brains constantly busy. So, it is during those not-so-busy times that I reflect on things. I know I can switch off my thoughts if it gets too upsetting, but I can work through a little more with each re-visit. So, I deal with stuff — just much slower than others might. I prefer to deal with things at my own pace.
Recently my mum has been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease and Vascular Dementia — Mixed Dementia. It’s been an awful few months, and things will get worse. I’ve happily allowed my sister to take the helm and organise all the essential things like care packages and appointments. She also, willingly, visits daily and helps my mum and stepdad in any way she can on a practical level.
It’s easy for me to take a back seat because I work, and my sister doesn’t. But honestly, working aside, I know deep down that I would still push things onto my sister if I didn’t work. It’s what I do! I haven’t coped with my mum’s diagnosis or her rapid decline, but I also haven’t cried so much in my life.
During the early days of my mum’s diagnosis, I spent hours upon hours on the internet trying to find some other reason for my mum’s decline. Could it be a Vitamin B12 deficiency? What about her sodium levels? Thiamine? I was clutching at straws — still am!
My sister told me I was being an Ostrich! “You’re an Ostrich. You always put your head in the sand”! She said.
I thought about it and agreed. Yep, I’m an Ostrich. I don’t want my mum to have dementia, and I don’t want her to die from some cruel, hideous disease. I’m not at the acceptance stage yet. I’m still in denial.
My mum is in hospital at the moment. Three days ago, I tried to support my sister by accompanying her to visit my mum, but I failed. It was far worse than I imagined. The hospital was rammed with people on beds lining the corridors through the accident and emergency department, all waiting for assessment. The staff was running around like blue-arsed flies doing their absolute best.
We barely recognised our mum, sleeping and so tiny in the bed. She has lost so much weight that her collar bones are visible. Everyone is wearing masks and only one visitor per bed is allowed. We managed to get away with twenty minutes at her bedside before a nurse noticed and moved us on. Before moving us on, the nurse explained that mum had slipped into delirium. “She sleeps very, very deeply ninety percent of the time”, the nurse explained.
Since arriving at the hospital, her hearing aid is missing, her eyesight has deteriorated, and she’s lost the use of her legs.
Dementia plays cruel tricks on the brain. My mum has moments when she’s back in the 1960s during nurse training or in the 1980s talking about friends she worked with.
Waking up and finding yourself in a hospital bed surrounded by strangers wearing face masks, unable to hear and see properly, or go home to your family is terrifying.
It’s hardly any wonder my mum has taken to swearing at people when she wakes up during her more lucid moments. The staff takes no notice. They say they are used to it.
I wasn’t ready to see my mum like that — so ill, and so vulnerable.
The nurse asking one of us to leave was my cue to leave. I couldn’t control my emotions. I wanted to run and be an Ostrich.
Fortunately, my sister is a kind soul and accepts me for who I am. We joke about it now. She will ask if I’m up to visiting mum, and I will if I’m feeling confident and strong, but often, I’ll say I’m Ostriching today.
What is Ostriching?
Ostriching is my made-up word for self-preservation; it’s my coping mechanism.
Effective Ostriching means fully focusing the brain on something other than the stressful situation you’re avoiding. Total escape is the short-term goal, so working, reading a book, or watching T.V. are great distractions. I find writing is an excellent distraction. Basically, it would include anything that requires your undivided attention.
Ostriching is a stepping stone to the long-term goal of acceptance.
If there is nothing that can keep the mind busy, then settle for your creative outlet. This is an excellent way to do something you enjoy safely in your quiet little bubble. It allows the mind to wander and organise thoughts. This is the ‘extended period of time’ I mentioned earlier. It’s a slower, kinder, more manageable pace to absorb the stress and make sense of it.
Ostriching is the longer but calmer route to acceptance.
Thank you, Theresa — my lovely sister for being better than me.
