Sunday, May 31, 2015

An Itty Bitty transition

Well maybe more like a small phoenix rising from the ashes.  So not so itty bitty.

At the beginning of March 2015 my husband met with an individual asking and for the last time pleading with them to just meet with me.  This individual was the major character other than myself keeping me stuck. I was stuck in a position on a fence, frozen unable to move one direction or the other.  This is where I have been for at least a year.  It has been an ugly hateful fence, filled with shame, guilt, sadness, confusion, depression, anxiety and the list goes on and on.  This individual decided for themselves what was best for me and slammed a door shut and moved on. They never really looked back to see or care the damage that was done.  Certainly I was in a very bad way independent from them as I said before, and this individual just made sure I was speared to the floor of this awful place, never to get up, and move on.

So back to now.  When my husband pleaded with this individual pleaded for them to meet with me, they said "Yes, When, not if but when I do meet with her.........."so they did say they would, right? and the last thing my husband said was "Don't wait until June 1st.  That would just be way to long." Well what is tomorrow?

So for the last month I have been observing the day approaching.  The first half of May was, oh please oh please, oh please contact me and pull your head out of your ass. The second half I slipped into wise mind (a DBT term) and simply stopped counting the days except I did focus on the June 1st, I will admit.  As the last few days have gone by.  I have been anxious,  not a hopeful anxious, but an anxious of well this is it. it has been a year and I know I am a grown woman, but respectful resolve is not going to happen.  Sometimes evil is not me. Sometimes evil lurks where you don't think it could. 

Do I have plans for the day? One to distract myself? Yes, many plans, not because I need to keep busy so I don't fixate on the time turning to June 1st, although I kind of do, but because I am legitimately busy. I am going to work with Rick so I can spend time with him all day.  I have DBT homework.  I have 3 crochet projects I would like to finish, and then there is my art. 

So as of June 1st. That nightmare is tucked away and is no more.  If that individual is reading this and they can,  there is I am sure a HUGE sigh of relief and they can move on with obviously a guilt free life which they have been for a year already, duh!!!   I can move on an create my new normal.  

Here's to a new normal and some people suck and some people don't.  It's not all or none :)


Tuesday, May 19, 2015

Somewhere in the shadow

As of late, I feel I am somewhere in the shadow.  I feel like I am in that place in the darkness that if you move ever so slightly, a part of you might show.  At moments I feel a sense of comfort there. Other moments I feel scared and long for someone to find me.  Normally when I think of being in a shadow I think of them being silent. Something like walking into a sound booth of some kind.  But for me life is never quiet, not even in the shadow.  I have a constant high pitch squeal that has not let up for years. Sometimes it is louder than others, but loud would always be in it's description.

The other day my psychiatrist put me on a medication that takes strange voices and creepy visions away.  Even the medication doesn't help the squeal go away.

So hear I stand in the shadow with my squealing ears and my racing brain, watching life go by, wasting minutes of valuable life.  Watching. Waiting. Wondering. Worrying.  Over what I couldn't possibly know.  Sometimes it's family. Well often it is family.  What will be come of them.  How will they thrive? Where will they go? Who will they meet? Sometimes it about my husband directly.  Will he ever seek out what he actually needs or deep down inside longs for.  Will true happiness come his way.  Will a wonderful wave of relaxation wash over him and he finds himself laughing and leaning back on a seat in a beautiful fishing boat, just enjoying the day.

I wait. My pain is mostly internal.  Much of which it was a year and a half ago.  December 2013 I never could have imagined what opportunities I would have and destroy so horribly and so quickly.  I don't get second chances.  Not the one for second chances.  I have stopped believing in them, many months ago.  If you were to watch me you would say I am a lier, but let me give you an analogy.

What I wait for in the darkened shadows, where I am just out of sight,  where I am filled with pain that it is like an anchor that does not allow me to move is gone for good.  It is fruitless to wait for. I wait for Joy.  Pure Joy.  I wait to actually look into someones eyes and really feel their love for me coming back at me filling me up with love.  I don't necessarily mean in a romantic way, I mean love, compassion. A love that with one look lets me know I am ok just as I am right now, Standing in the darkness of the shadow.

Some of you have seen me quite animated.  Some have seen me laugh. Some have seen me when I can not stop talking. Who is that you much wonder.  Well that is me too.  And that is where my Analogy begins.  When you go to capture an Anole (small lizard) with your hands most often it's tail ends up dropping off.  The tail can keep moving for up to 15 minutes after it is off the lizards body.  I have timed and videoed one for 13 minutes. That is me.  I am that tail.  I am animated.  Moving super fast at first and can last for quite a bit of time.  Then since I am not attached to anything alive, I slowly  run out of energy and my spirit falters,  I begin to slow down and eventually stop.  With no one around, I begin to curl one way and then the other.  Possibly I am seeking out someone, who knows.  Then I realize I am alone and it's ok to stop.  All the wiggling isn't going to get me help, It's not going to get me back on my body.  I am now independent.  Alone. In my shadow. I kind of feel safe there. It's kind of nice.


Saturday, May 02, 2015

If you say you are a friend then be a friend...please

Fear and pain can co exists.  With me they often do.  For the past year I have lived a life of contradictions.  Within my day to day I get phone calls, texts and personal contact with people who are struggling to just get through the day.  I know why they contact me. I know they contact me because I am always there to listen with two ears and one mouth.  I take care of their emotions first and help them calm down, and then quietly listen to their pain.  Some pour out as literally tears some pour out in words typed on a phone. But I feel their pain just the same.  After there is a lull, I ask them if they want anything from me except a sounding board and if they do, I try and recount what I have heard.  Truly most of what I hear through all the words and pain is, I want someone to see me and notice I am in pain.  I want my pain to go away.  I don't want to hate myself.  Why do I keep falling down.  After a long time with fear and pain I feel blessed. It seems as if it's the only feeling I can express when these types of transactions occur, and they happen at least a couple times a week for me.

In my situation, I take it just slightly different.  In my life I have been told I talk to much.   I was raised in a family where we were seen and not heard. In first grade a teacher actually put tape across my mouth.  As I grew up in public school I chattered like a magpie because I could.  In 10th grade everything changed for me and roles were reversed and I now needed to be strong for everyone.  No one at school knew how bad I really had it. That was on purpose.  I chattered still but never about important things.  They might have even seemed important.

My college years were tumultuous at best.  My first year included a rape that I ignored, hid,  and buried. One person knew, and I didn't take his advise to seek medical help.

I was intensely stalked  by one man that was my supervisor at my day job. He follow me home to Cambridge. He thought we were going out.  He, I guess, got me this over night cleaning job.  He would find me on an empty floor of a huge office building and surprise me, I mean scare me out of my mind.  I called the police many times during this time and asked for help.  I was very afraid.  He was much bigger then I was.  They said they can do nothing unless he touches me.  Finally the management of the building found out he was doing this, and it didn't come from me.  They had him arrested.  The police made me go to the squad car where he was hand cuffed and sitting and said out loud " Is this the man that has been coming here at nights to see you and bother you" and I barely said yes" and the police officer said "louder miss", and I said "yes" and they took him away.  He, I am sure to this day, does not know I never called the police on him.

Someone may say "Oh Kirsten, that was so far in the past." Move on.  But when there are still relationships that have such wonderful promise, for say 4 weeks to be generous, and it starts as such a giving relationship. But then the one party who started the whole thing with a promise of friendship. (you know what that is to me, a real friendship??? It's like the best gift I would have ever gotten) decides you know...I have gotten all I need here, I'm done, she's nuts and boy does she go on and on, and guess what I thought I liked her but I don't I really don't.  Her work here is done. Good bye. Click. And I sincerely never hear another genuine word from them in a year.  That is extremely painful.  Amazing stick-to-it-iveness never ever ever looking back, bribed me with friendship, and never gave me one.

So I have sat here like an idiot waiting for that friendship that will never come.  Through the grapevine found out that I am referred to as a "stalker" in a very small circle. So now I am a stalker too.

This is how healing DOES NOT occur quickly.  I think this is how people turn "weird."  I think this is how you see those people digging out of garbage cans and live on the street.  I can totally imagine myself there. Anyone I speak to, I keep my distance.  I try so so hard to keep my distance.  I remember 2 ears 1 mouth.  I am with them for their needs. It may be flawed thinking, but it is real and a safety net for me.   You see, If I am "too much", "good for only a few jollies", "easily thrown in the garbage", "never thought of again, except like trash", "and like a stalker" AND "100% guilty, even though I didn't start it but was bribed by a friendship" I am not going to go out there.  I am not going to make a friend.  I am going to be leery of my current friends. I don't want to do that to them. This is how someone slowly goes crazy. They (or I) go crazy because people need people. They need closeness and bonding. They need to feel comfortable to talk to someone without feeling worried, guilty, ashamed,  A friend.

In conclusion, I am very ill right now, I am not going to use it as a crutch. I am going to accept it as my lifestyle.  It is who I am, It is who I have been since 1982. And if I stay away from people I wont hurt them.  I just had to explain.  Because most of you who read my blog, I fear you feel left in the dark as to what is going on with me. But I can't speak in details because it would be to revealing and hurtful for the other party involved and that I don't want. I am working extremely hard to move forward. Forward is a awkward movement.  Someday I may break free. I really might. I have hurt people a long my 47 year journey. I have taken blame for other people because I care for that other persons situation. All the stuff that some of you have probably lived through.

If you ever see a disheveled looking lady hanging around a park and digging in garbage cans with a chicken and a bearded dragon that will probably be me.  But by that point I will be happy.

And just for the record: I think I would have been a good friend. I think I would have been fun. I think I would have had a lot of exciting weird stories to tell about my travels and just life working and living with wild animals.  I think I would have been a good listener of stories.  I think I would have been a real good friend.  But those days have waned and are kind of gone now.  k~