Sunday, May 12, 2013
Surreality, coming to a bookseller near you.
So I started following this generically named page on a social media site and in the end (and by end, I mean after about a week or so of following them) the person(s) started to respond to my comments. Kind of like in blog land, to be expected and nothing weird about it. The weird part is that this culminated in a one hour conversation yesterday. Now, here's the really weird part...
The person running this low key page happens to be a well known published author of approximately 10 books. No shit. When I went back into the photos, I could see that it was him, but me being suspicious, figured it was someone pretending to be him. Let's just say I got proof. So there I sat, talking to this half crazed author. What. A. Trip. I had no idea that the person running the page was anyone in particular, it just fell together strangely.
An interesting moment in life to be sure.
Tuesday, May 07, 2013
'Me + D + G = WTF' or 'How I did not become Morgan le Fay'
I don't really care what I say here anymore, mainly because, well, that doesn't matter either. None of it seems to matter. These are the ramblings of a very tired, confused person - no one is to take any part too seriously. You'll know what I mean if you read it.
Spur of the moment invite yesterday to stop over at an old friends house (G) that I went to high school with (we occasionally chat on facebook) and I think he thinks it's more than it is. He was nothing but pleasant and polite and gave a quick hug on the way out, nothing menacing. But he mentioned plans for 'us' several times, then invited me to dinner tonight, just a cookout - but with his son and his GF. Weird. It's just a 'no'. I'm sorry his ex was a bitch and took off (with most of his money) but I can't be what he wants me to be. I can see it in his eyes. No wait, that's a lie. I could hear the expectation in his voice. Which was actually far worse. Not saying he has specific intentions, but he wants and needs that support and I've got too much fear in me to trust that he would just leave it at casual friends. My gawd I sound like such a bitch. All about helping people and trying to be supportive, but you know, I pretty much have nothing left to give. (this comes full circle in the end)
So, D and I went out I think two more times. Once dinner (early night - had to be home to watch NHL playoffs...), then dinner and a movie. Which really made me wonder if it was wrong to go to G's house just to sit and talk and watch a movie. I thought 'no' b/c I clearly have no intention of him being more than a casual friend. Besides, D and I aren't anything official, so there's that, too. Anyway. After one of those nights, I had a very hard time getting home. A crushing realization came to mind. Although it's been said, I'm going to say it again. And probably a hundred more times until I can actually come to terms with the implications. All switches are off. I can't feel anything, and I think it's because I won't allow it.
Ok, this is where shit gets weird and all bouncy. And honest. D and I haven't had sex. I want to, but I don't. Not with him. Probably not with anyone given the opportunity. I just feel nothing. I mean, that's a lie - I do physically. All responses proper and functioning, but my brain puts the brakes on. This isn't from a couple of bad relationships, even though a few were really screwy either in the end or in their entirety, but it's from a lifetime. My lifetime. I'm learning this through working with a natural healer. She's gotten more out of me based on her questions, my verbal responses and my physical responses in about 5 hours than years of therapists have. What it's boiling down to now is that, well, you know all that 'inner child' stuff? Well, mine's not very trusting. Mine doesn't even trust me. Apparently she trusts no adult. And when faced with being in a position to trust, the bratty kid turns into a hostile adult. Seriously. I really am my own worst enemy now.
So, keeping this in mind, I see how there's this huge roadblock in front of me. I do not even trust myself. Do you hear what I'm saying? Everyone thinks they, at some point, are alone in this world, but I've realized I don't even have myself. I have a terrified, half-wild, panicked child inside that eyes you suspiciously from a distance and would rather gnaw off her own arm than take anyone's hand. My outer shell, the adult, is quirky, fun, creative, intelligent, competent yet is sad, confused and hateful, completely filled with rage that also keeps a certain distance. That child lives inside that layer of sadness, confusion and rage. No wonder my inner child doesn't trust me.
I understand it's more a representation of the mind vs heart. Thinking, logic vs love, feeling. My will took over so long ago, but even then it wasn't able to help my mind process what it saw. You know who I kind of feel like? Don't laugh - Edward Scissorhands. He never understood why he wasn't complete, and he was so different in one way, but that one way made all the difference. In the end, he ended up back in the mansion, away from everyone. (That whole ES thing just occurred to me.) So now that willfullness has kind of taken on a life of its own and is partially preventing the two parts from peacefully coexisting.
But the other day, or it may have been night, I really don't remember, a flood of thoughts came back to me. Thoughts of when I was at a very dark place and thought about how I could kill myself to make it say something, yet nothing. At the time, my plan was to sit at the lake lined up with the boat dock. I would have a certain CD playing with all but one song scratched, so if anyone really wanted to know what I chose as my exit music, they would learn an awful lot. The car doors would be locked, symbolizing my attempts to lock out the hurtful things, interior door handles broken off to show the desperation with which I tried to climb out of that place yet failed. My seatbelt would be buckled as would all the others in the car. Something has to convey all the parts of me I tried and failed to secure. My lights would stay on to show how hard I tried to see through the darkness. A few personal items would be there with me, but nothing too blatantly obvious. Then I would superglue my eyes closed, against all I'd seen, my ears, for all I've heard, my mouth, for all the times I wasn't permitted to talk about anything, talk about my own life and the innate wrongness of it. And then I'd just drive into the lake. The last part is significant because for as much as I love water, I'm also terrified of it. What better way to go out than being surrounded by the thing you love the most but punishing yourself with that last bit of controlled terror.
It all came back. It all seemed right except now I thought it would be more appropriate to use something to actually prop my mouth open signifying all the times throughout my life that I did, in fact, ask for help. But the wrong people were listening, if at all. And so it would just be a silent scream that no one heard, but for once, no one would stop me. Not even me. I felt that would have been much better.
Not that I'm going to do it - I'm talking about years ago when that came to me. Just the other day, though, it flooded back with that one modification. For a moment, I felt a profound sadness when I realized that I've separated myself so wholly. I'm not sure there will ever be a way to get back what is gone or to fix the wrongness of a lifetime. To realize that no matter what I create or how competent I am or how silly I can be in a particular moment, just under the surface is a child that is being held prisoner. Because that's what I was taught, back when I was that child. Now, I don't trust myself enough to extend a hand, or take it for that matter. In that moment, I realized that it's going to be one lonely existence. In a way, it only seems right to live as long as possible to punish myself for not being strong enough to help that child. Even after all this time. I never really even recognized her because I was never permitted, and then I just took over, becoming that enemy that I wanted to avoid.
Part of this is surfacing because I've been going out with D and I'm not comfortable with it. I don't know how to 'accept' things, like dinner, a movie, etc. so I either do it with absolutely no grace and it seems forced, or I just clam up and don't say anything. Add to this that my mother knows I've gone out with him and says things like 'I'm sure you'll tell me about him when you're ready, but I AM curious.' Fuck NO I'm not telling you shit! As much as I love my mother, and the gods know I do, she laid this groundwork. When she makes comments like that, I seriously want to punch her in the face. Why the fuck would she think I would tell her ANYTHING when I can't get any info out of her about my OWN childhood, which I might remind you was quite a long time ago. SHE is one of two people in my immediate family that would never let certain things be spoken of. I had no way to talk about relationships and proper interaction much less identify it... and now you want me to just open up and tell you?! Fuck. That. I can't even tell her my half sister is missing because we shared the same father. So I carry this shit on my own. And here. That's all. I've been forgiving and understanding toward her and what she went through but she forgets I went through it, too. At least she has memories before my father - 20 years or so of a life that wasn't fucked up and wrong in every way. I don't really have that. And I'm not sure how much progress I can make. I want to, but the road ahead seems to go on for miles and I don't know if I have the strength. I keep banking on stubbornness to get me through, because I don't like where I am and I'm the only one that can change it. Working on it ~ just identifying some of this leaves me exhausted. Guess that happens after hiding things from yourself your whole life.
So yeah. There's that.
Spur of the moment invite yesterday to stop over at an old friends house (G) that I went to high school with (we occasionally chat on facebook) and I think he thinks it's more than it is. He was nothing but pleasant and polite and gave a quick hug on the way out, nothing menacing. But he mentioned plans for 'us' several times, then invited me to dinner tonight, just a cookout - but with his son and his GF. Weird. It's just a 'no'. I'm sorry his ex was a bitch and took off (with most of his money) but I can't be what he wants me to be. I can see it in his eyes. No wait, that's a lie. I could hear the expectation in his voice. Which was actually far worse. Not saying he has specific intentions, but he wants and needs that support and I've got too much fear in me to trust that he would just leave it at casual friends. My gawd I sound like such a bitch. All about helping people and trying to be supportive, but you know, I pretty much have nothing left to give. (this comes full circle in the end)
So, D and I went out I think two more times. Once dinner (early night - had to be home to watch NHL playoffs...), then dinner and a movie. Which really made me wonder if it was wrong to go to G's house just to sit and talk and watch a movie. I thought 'no' b/c I clearly have no intention of him being more than a casual friend. Besides, D and I aren't anything official, so there's that, too. Anyway. After one of those nights, I had a very hard time getting home. A crushing realization came to mind. Although it's been said, I'm going to say it again. And probably a hundred more times until I can actually come to terms with the implications. All switches are off. I can't feel anything, and I think it's because I won't allow it.
Ok, this is where shit gets weird and all bouncy. And honest. D and I haven't had sex. I want to, but I don't. Not with him. Probably not with anyone given the opportunity. I just feel nothing. I mean, that's a lie - I do physically. All responses proper and functioning, but my brain puts the brakes on. This isn't from a couple of bad relationships, even though a few were really screwy either in the end or in their entirety, but it's from a lifetime. My lifetime. I'm learning this through working with a natural healer. She's gotten more out of me based on her questions, my verbal responses and my physical responses in about 5 hours than years of therapists have. What it's boiling down to now is that, well, you know all that 'inner child' stuff? Well, mine's not very trusting. Mine doesn't even trust me. Apparently she trusts no adult. And when faced with being in a position to trust, the bratty kid turns into a hostile adult. Seriously. I really am my own worst enemy now.
So, keeping this in mind, I see how there's this huge roadblock in front of me. I do not even trust myself. Do you hear what I'm saying? Everyone thinks they, at some point, are alone in this world, but I've realized I don't even have myself. I have a terrified, half-wild, panicked child inside that eyes you suspiciously from a distance and would rather gnaw off her own arm than take anyone's hand. My outer shell, the adult, is quirky, fun, creative, intelligent, competent yet is sad, confused and hateful, completely filled with rage that also keeps a certain distance. That child lives inside that layer of sadness, confusion and rage. No wonder my inner child doesn't trust me.
I understand it's more a representation of the mind vs heart. Thinking, logic vs love, feeling. My will took over so long ago, but even then it wasn't able to help my mind process what it saw. You know who I kind of feel like? Don't laugh - Edward Scissorhands. He never understood why he wasn't complete, and he was so different in one way, but that one way made all the difference. In the end, he ended up back in the mansion, away from everyone. (That whole ES thing just occurred to me.) So now that willfullness has kind of taken on a life of its own and is partially preventing the two parts from peacefully coexisting.
But the other day, or it may have been night, I really don't remember, a flood of thoughts came back to me. Thoughts of when I was at a very dark place and thought about how I could kill myself to make it say something, yet nothing. At the time, my plan was to sit at the lake lined up with the boat dock. I would have a certain CD playing with all but one song scratched, so if anyone really wanted to know what I chose as my exit music, they would learn an awful lot. The car doors would be locked, symbolizing my attempts to lock out the hurtful things, interior door handles broken off to show the desperation with which I tried to climb out of that place yet failed. My seatbelt would be buckled as would all the others in the car. Something has to convey all the parts of me I tried and failed to secure. My lights would stay on to show how hard I tried to see through the darkness. A few personal items would be there with me, but nothing too blatantly obvious. Then I would superglue my eyes closed, against all I'd seen, my ears, for all I've heard, my mouth, for all the times I wasn't permitted to talk about anything, talk about my own life and the innate wrongness of it. And then I'd just drive into the lake. The last part is significant because for as much as I love water, I'm also terrified of it. What better way to go out than being surrounded by the thing you love the most but punishing yourself with that last bit of controlled terror.
It all came back. It all seemed right except now I thought it would be more appropriate to use something to actually prop my mouth open signifying all the times throughout my life that I did, in fact, ask for help. But the wrong people were listening, if at all. And so it would just be a silent scream that no one heard, but for once, no one would stop me. Not even me. I felt that would have been much better.
Not that I'm going to do it - I'm talking about years ago when that came to me. Just the other day, though, it flooded back with that one modification. For a moment, I felt a profound sadness when I realized that I've separated myself so wholly. I'm not sure there will ever be a way to get back what is gone or to fix the wrongness of a lifetime. To realize that no matter what I create or how competent I am or how silly I can be in a particular moment, just under the surface is a child that is being held prisoner. Because that's what I was taught, back when I was that child. Now, I don't trust myself enough to extend a hand, or take it for that matter. In that moment, I realized that it's going to be one lonely existence. In a way, it only seems right to live as long as possible to punish myself for not being strong enough to help that child. Even after all this time. I never really even recognized her because I was never permitted, and then I just took over, becoming that enemy that I wanted to avoid.
Part of this is surfacing because I've been going out with D and I'm not comfortable with it. I don't know how to 'accept' things, like dinner, a movie, etc. so I either do it with absolutely no grace and it seems forced, or I just clam up and don't say anything. Add to this that my mother knows I've gone out with him and says things like 'I'm sure you'll tell me about him when you're ready, but I AM curious.' Fuck NO I'm not telling you shit! As much as I love my mother, and the gods know I do, she laid this groundwork. When she makes comments like that, I seriously want to punch her in the face. Why the fuck would she think I would tell her ANYTHING when I can't get any info out of her about my OWN childhood, which I might remind you was quite a long time ago. SHE is one of two people in my immediate family that would never let certain things be spoken of. I had no way to talk about relationships and proper interaction much less identify it... and now you want me to just open up and tell you?! Fuck. That. I can't even tell her my half sister is missing because we shared the same father. So I carry this shit on my own. And here. That's all. I've been forgiving and understanding toward her and what she went through but she forgets I went through it, too. At least she has memories before my father - 20 years or so of a life that wasn't fucked up and wrong in every way. I don't really have that. And I'm not sure how much progress I can make. I want to, but the road ahead seems to go on for miles and I don't know if I have the strength. I keep banking on stubbornness to get me through, because I don't like where I am and I'm the only one that can change it. Working on it ~ just identifying some of this leaves me exhausted. Guess that happens after hiding things from yourself your whole life.
So yeah. There's that.
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