only a moment to post but this seemed worth stopping for:
"In life there is bueno and there is malo. If you do not find enough of the good, you must yourself create it. ... ... ... Remember this thing - any small goodness is of value."
-from 'Any Small Goodness' by Tony Johnston
Saturday, April 19, 2003
Friday, April 18, 2003
WARNING: EXTREME SERIOUSNESS ALERT.
It’s been a weird week. Among other things, I’ve discovered the heart of the reason why I can’t live with anyone. It’s a bit disturbing, but at the same time, it’s ME, and I like me and understand me, so… the world, myself include, has to just like it or lump it*.
It seems that my need for isolation is more than just a spiritual, mental thing. I’ve always had a lot of fear-driven anger. The hyper-vigilance that comes from being a victim of abuse for the first 20 years of ones’ life instills a sub-conscious and “unpredictable” (but obvious) pattern of reactions to any given situation. Anytime anyone else comes into my space, no matter where I am, my brain gives signals to my body – I actually ALWAYS have to THINK about how I hug someone. It is always an awkward process (except maybe with Aunt Sue and dad, my oldest, safest hugs). When I enter a new place, without even really being aware of it, I “case” it for dangerous looking people and escape routes. I notice all ‘odd’ things, I remember numbers, times, descriptions – just in case. It seems sad, sometimes it feels sad, but is completely ingrained in me, it has kept me alive, and it is quite interesting to have a mind like this – IF it has a safe place to rest and doesn’t get ‘carried away’.
My home has been now, for years, my sanctuary. The one place where I felt both secure and could just be as, well, WHATEVER as I wanted to be. When I discovered that my neighbor was
watching me, stalking me, I suppose, I nearly went over the edge. I was no longer safe. I no longer had a space for the all of me, a place where I could lay down my sword and shield for a few hours.
Then, a friend moved in, and – and though that should have counter-acted the fear of this neighbor’s intrusion, he was just a possibility (of intrusion and danger). Now I have another presence in my cave all the time. It is like being a kid again… guarding my privacy, listening for every sound, pretending to be asleep, desperately trying to find any way possible to be alone, even if it is just within my head. I didn’t realize how badly it was affecting me until three incidents occurred this week.
The first was when I had to move my own refrigerator in order to unplug the fan I carry around the house. Part of it was that I was EXTREMELY tired, and frustrated at having to do this, the other part was that my house-mate, in trying to be helpful, had pried open the window DIRECTLY across from my bedroom and put the fan there. I am vulnerable because of this window – I hate to sleep (or do ANYTHING with closed doors, I don’t even like to close the stalls in public bathrooms…) behind closed doors – and this window faces the side yard nearest to the public road, with a direct view into my room. So in order to close this window, I had to go to a good deal of effort. Before I knew what I’d done, I’d hit the window frame so hard that my knuckles are still bruised, and I missed the window by inches.
Then on Monday night, I was with a Gentleman Friend, of many years’ acquaintance. We were having a nice evening, getting skwoochy, and then – in an awkward moment – he laughed, and I thought he was laughing at me. Without ANY thought at all, I felt my anger and “cagedness” spring out of me, and I hurt him. I have never hurt him before, and have not done anything like that in years. Let me add, just for the record, that he was a gentleman, even then. He was not angry, heartbreakingly, he admitted that he was simply scared.
The following morning, I was at my local convenience store, paying for gas, when a man who works there came up behind me and put his arms around my neck. He’s a VERY big man – and he is married with children. I have confronted him VERY clearly, publicly, and not in a “sweet way” about touching me and LEANING on me before. The last time was LOUD, in the McD's.
When he surprised me this way on Tuesday morning, I snapped again, and within seconds, I had pinned his hands, kicked him twice, ducked under his arms and punched him three times in the ribs. I realized what was happening in time to pull the punches somewhat, but I was utterly humiliated and very angry. (But I was also RIGHT.) This has happened to me before, but not for years, and always in moments of real fear or pain. To have three incidents like this in just three days is something I can't rationalize**. Someone close and dear to me has been struggling with something similar for years and now I am
beginning to understand.
Take time for yourselves people. Take time to unwind, do WHATEVER YOU NEED TO DO to have your own space. Do not ignore your hurt monkey self, or you might end up hurting someone else.
Wish me peace and luck.
-s
*what an odd expression. I’ve always liked and used it, though.
**that is the worst pun i've ever accidentally written.
It’s been a weird week. Among other things, I’ve discovered the heart of the reason why I can’t live with anyone. It’s a bit disturbing, but at the same time, it’s ME, and I like me and understand me, so… the world, myself include, has to just like it or lump it*.
It seems that my need for isolation is more than just a spiritual, mental thing. I’ve always had a lot of fear-driven anger. The hyper-vigilance that comes from being a victim of abuse for the first 20 years of ones’ life instills a sub-conscious and “unpredictable” (but obvious) pattern of reactions to any given situation. Anytime anyone else comes into my space, no matter where I am, my brain gives signals to my body – I actually ALWAYS have to THINK about how I hug someone. It is always an awkward process (except maybe with Aunt Sue and dad, my oldest, safest hugs). When I enter a new place, without even really being aware of it, I “case” it for dangerous looking people and escape routes. I notice all ‘odd’ things, I remember numbers, times, descriptions – just in case. It seems sad, sometimes it feels sad, but is completely ingrained in me, it has kept me alive, and it is quite interesting to have a mind like this – IF it has a safe place to rest and doesn’t get ‘carried away’.
My home has been now, for years, my sanctuary. The one place where I felt both secure and could just be as, well, WHATEVER as I wanted to be. When I discovered that my neighbor was
watching me, stalking me, I suppose, I nearly went over the edge. I was no longer safe. I no longer had a space for the all of me, a place where I could lay down my sword and shield for a few hours.
Then, a friend moved in, and – and though that should have counter-acted the fear of this neighbor’s intrusion, he was just a possibility (of intrusion and danger). Now I have another presence in my cave all the time. It is like being a kid again… guarding my privacy, listening for every sound, pretending to be asleep, desperately trying to find any way possible to be alone, even if it is just within my head. I didn’t realize how badly it was affecting me until three incidents occurred this week.
The first was when I had to move my own refrigerator in order to unplug the fan I carry around the house. Part of it was that I was EXTREMELY tired, and frustrated at having to do this, the other part was that my house-mate, in trying to be helpful, had pried open the window DIRECTLY across from my bedroom and put the fan there. I am vulnerable because of this window – I hate to sleep (or do ANYTHING with closed doors, I don’t even like to close the stalls in public bathrooms…) behind closed doors – and this window faces the side yard nearest to the public road, with a direct view into my room. So in order to close this window, I had to go to a good deal of effort. Before I knew what I’d done, I’d hit the window frame so hard that my knuckles are still bruised, and I missed the window by inches.
Then on Monday night, I was with a Gentleman Friend, of many years’ acquaintance. We were having a nice evening, getting skwoochy, and then – in an awkward moment – he laughed, and I thought he was laughing at me. Without ANY thought at all, I felt my anger and “cagedness” spring out of me, and I hurt him. I have never hurt him before, and have not done anything like that in years. Let me add, just for the record, that he was a gentleman, even then. He was not angry, heartbreakingly, he admitted that he was simply scared.
The following morning, I was at my local convenience store, paying for gas, when a man who works there came up behind me and put his arms around my neck. He’s a VERY big man – and he is married with children. I have confronted him VERY clearly, publicly, and not in a “sweet way” about touching me and LEANING on me before. The last time was LOUD, in the McD's.
When he surprised me this way on Tuesday morning, I snapped again, and within seconds, I had pinned his hands, kicked him twice, ducked under his arms and punched him three times in the ribs. I realized what was happening in time to pull the punches somewhat, but I was utterly humiliated and very angry. (But I was also RIGHT.) This has happened to me before, but not for years, and always in moments of real fear or pain. To have three incidents like this in just three days is something I can't rationalize**. Someone close and dear to me has been struggling with something similar for years and now I am
beginning to understand.
Take time for yourselves people. Take time to unwind, do WHATEVER YOU NEED TO DO to have your own space. Do not ignore your hurt monkey self, or you might end up hurting someone else.
Wish me peace and luck.
-s
*what an odd expression. I’ve always liked and used it, though.
**that is the worst pun i've ever accidentally written.
