When I was a kid, I used to "clean" my room by stuffing everything in my closet or under my bed. My room would look clean, but it wasn't. When my mother figured it out, she made me pull everything out of my closet and from under my bed. She told me that anything I could not find a place for, I would have to get rid of. It was not a pleasant day.
I realize that with many people, their lives are like a room that looks clean, but is actually hiding a huge mess in the closet and a bunch of crap under the bed. It's really easy to just accept that the room is clean and ignore the mess. I also believe that it isn't my place to tell someone how they should keep their lives.
However in a relationship, it's different. Friendship, marriage, whatever the relationship between people is, that seems to me a time when the emotional closets can be emptied or at least picked through.
One of the problems is that clearing out a closet is a lot of work. It takes a lot of focus, it feels like it's the only thing that I can do. It feels like I can only do it with one person at a time. I feel like there's a lot of crap in my closet. While the people who read this blog know that my room isn't really clean, I think I still try to pretend that everything is just fine.
The song is a sideways connection, not directly related to this post. But it's pretty.
Yesterday was like being back in middle school. I know in my brain it wasn't supposed to be, but man that is how it felt.
My classroom is across campus from the lunch room, so it always takes me a while to get there. Yesterday was the Christmas Luncheon put on by the parents. Its always quite good. Due to circumstances, I was later than usual. When I got there, the colleagues I usually sit with had not saved me a seat. The table was quite full. I ended up sitting at a table with a substitute para-educator who was just filling in for the day. At least she appreciated that someone sat with her, so there's that.
I didn't stay long, though. It just hurt too much. I know it probably wasn't personal, but I feel so removed from my department. I am the only person in my department who is located across campus. The culture at my school isn't very social. We don't walk into each others classrooms, we don't get drinks on Fridays, or any of that stuff.
I also feel like I am always saying the wrong thing. I don't have the same struggles that my colleagues do. I don't have a commute, I don't struggle with money the same way. My children are grown. My life is fairly comfortable. I remind myself that I did commute for up to 2 hours a day for many years. I remind myself that I did struggle with money for most of my life and this current comfort is the work of many years. However, I just feel awkward and so I have been avoiding eating lunch or meeting up with my colleagues unless I absolutely have to.
I know that it's social anxiety. I know it's not real. But I feel really lonely these days. I am feeling really depressed and it's impacting my work, my social life, everything.
I have always been the mom. My mother worked two jobs, so it fell to me to take care of the house. I made my own lunches. I cooked dinner. I cleaned. My mother wasn't too mean about it. She didn't expect me to make her bed every day or anything; however she did have her quirks. Coffee was a big one, she expected her coffee to be brewing before I left for school. There also needed to be a pot ready for when she got home between Job #1 and Job #2. I learned care taking and anticipating another person's needs from a very young age.
Being the mom was usually a positive. It was called "Spirit" when I was on the swim team. It was reliability and consideration in my church group. I learned to hate being called "Reliable Rachel" because it seemed to have such a burden with it. I felt like it was my job to take care of my friends, my step-sister, the men I dated and everyone but me. I never learned how to take care of myself and I am still very bad at it. However I always had a crowd of people who seemed happy enough to spend time with me, so long as I was organizing, coordinating and most importantly care taking. (There have been wonderful people in my life who have given me so much. I don't mean to suggest that I was never on the receiving end. The negativity is just how I am feeling at the moment, not indicative of actual events.)
There was a wonderful moment this past Sunday morning. One of the members of my Dickens' cast was complaining about a problem. I had this sudden realization that not only was it not my problem, but that I didn't have to think of a solution. It was wonderful! I recognized something as Not My Problem.
I was talking to another friend on Sunday and we were discussing how our ex-husbands weren't really husbands, but instead we had found ourselves raising our biological child and the one we married. Even though we have divorced them, we are still stuck with their issues, because of shared parenting obligations. It was an interesting realization to understand that I wasn't alone in this feeling. It was also a bit of a wake-up call that I automatically tend to care take my partners, to my own detriment.
My husband and I have certainly struggled with this issue, but I will give him full marks for carrying his share of the load. I think he takes care of me as much as I take care of him. I just don't always recognize it. That is something to work on.
I had another relationship where I feel the care taking has been incredibly uneven. It came to a head last night. It wasn't that I expected anything of them last night, but for the umpteenth time I felt like they had used me and then took that energy to someone else. I am tired of finding myself emotionally empty after spending time with them. They promised me that things would improve, but another weekend, another set of "circumstances" where they were unable to do anything for me. I found myself drained and emotionally exhausted yesterday morning and really pissed about it.
I am trying to consider that it was the last weekend of Dickens' Fair. I am trying to be understanding and considerate. However, I am so beyond caring about excuses and extenuating circumstances. I think I just have to accept that it will never feel like my turn.
I told them to give me a week of no contact and see if that clears my head. However I know me, I don't like to sit on things. I certainly can't sit on this. I will stew and ruminate. If I was really angry last night, that's nothing compared to much angrier and frustrated I am today. I suppose we could talk about my concerns, again. However, that hasn't resulted in anything but promises that things will get better, followed by a demonstration that my problems aren't serious enough to be given priority.
I can't think of anything they can say or do that will make things better. I feel like I am giving up and I hate that feeling, but at a certain point it's not my problem to solve. I guess I simply have to let this relationship go. I can't seem but to help but to be a care taker and I can't help being really fucking resentful when I feel I don't get taken care of in return. It's not a matter of me not asking, I just seem to ask at the wrong time.
I know that the person in question reads this blog from time to time. I am aware that between what I told them yesterday and what I am seeing here, they are likely just going to see if they can leave me to my own devices and try talking to me next week. I have no idea if that will be a good idea, but I doubt it. I have the feeling that I will only get colder and colder. I also am not sure that there is little reason to contact me today, I am beyond angry. I am just hurt and tired of giving myself to people only to be rejected. I am tired of feeling like I don't matter. I don't think they can make me feel like I do matter by giving me space or by making empty promises that they won't keep anyway. I think I have just hit a problem where the only solution is to give up.
All right, enough ranting. Today's song was easy, it was playing on the radio when I got to work today.
One of the things about being a parent is that I learned very quickly that kids take priority. My children, your children, children I don't know. I am always fairly aware of the kids around me and try to consider them.
I often feel smothered by my mother, so I try to be really hands off with my own children. If they want to spend time with me, I try to give them my full attention. I am not great about calling them and telling them how much I like seeing them. I am too afraid of imposing on them like I feel my mother and father have done to me.
I never expect my children to give me the same priority I give them. I don't think that is appropriate. I want their love, I hope I have earned their respect, but I don't believe family = priority. I have a husband and friends for whom I believe I have earned a place in their lives. I don't think it is my child's role to be my friend and I don't want to be theirs.
I don't expect to be the most important thing in my husband's life. I expect to be an important thing. I expect the same from my friends. A good friendship, for me, involves feeling like I matter. Maybe not all the time, but enough to make my investment in the person worthwhile. I have been accused of ghosting at times because I don't make a fuss about how I feel. If I don't feel valued, I tend to let friendships fade away. I figure they didn't want me around anyway. (Yes, I realize that I'm not communicating. This is wrapped up in self-esteem issues and is a whole other entry.)
I want to feel valued. I think everyone does. A friend of mine once told me that they really hoped that I learned that there are over 7 billion and most of them would be far more considerate of me than my parents were. Regrettably what has happened since then is that I have let that friend fade from my life because I didn't feel valued and that last night I felt about as important as my father used to make me feel.
I am starting a new therapy group right after Christmas with the intention of working on some of this self-esteem stuff. It's going to be a big job.
I never really understood the purpose of boundaries until I read a book by Nancy Kress. It is called Beggars in Spain. It's a good book for a number of reasons, but it was the first time I ever understood resources as something that could be limited, that not only was it all right to refuse someone help, but sometimes it was necessary.
The idea I began to understand is that I can afford to give $5 to one beggar. I can probably afford to give $5 to one hundred beggars. However, at a certain point, giving money to beggars will bankrupt me. If I give too much, I will have nothing for myself. This is where the idea of boundary comes in. If I wish to give to the poor, I need to know how much I am willing to give and then stick to that amount. I will not be able to fix poverty. I have to set a boundary and only do what I can.
When it comes to money, it seems pretty simple. I have a set amount of money to give to charity. I decide where my charitable donations will go. At that point, it is in the hands of the foundation or the person who got the money and while I hope it is spent well, I honestly have no control.
When it comes to people that I know personally and when it comes to something other than money, it becomes far more difficult. I am beginning to believe that boundaries are far more important, but they are harder to implement and maintain.
As an example, let's say that my husband and my son are both having a bad night. I only have sufficient resources for one of them. Who do I choose? How do I choose? That is where this concept becomes very challenging for me. I have to have boundaries because exhausting myself trying to help them both ends up helping no one and possibly hurting both of them.
Boundaries are not easy. They mean telling a person no. I think that is the hardest thing for me. I am a teacher, I don't want to tell a student, "No, you can't do that." I want to say yes. I want to find resources to help. I want to give them the opportunity.
I believe in second chances. I believe in third chances. I believe in more chances. I have a hard time walking away if I think that a situation, relationship or person is salvageable. It takes a lot for me to give up hope.
Of course I have had my trust and my good nature abused. I still do give multiple chances. I still want to believe the best in people. I know I am not the only one, I have seen it in a number of places and organizations. I believe that most people want to believe the best in others.
However, at a certain point a boundary has to be drawn. When giving a person or situation multiple chances results in abuse of myself or others, I have to say no. I have struggled with this in my own life. I have been trying to internalize this idea of protecting myself through boundaries for years. While I have been working with this concept for a while, I have never seen it so well expressed as something a friend shared recently. The person who wrote this has nothing to do with me or any of my situations. However what they wrote about their own life really resonated with a number of things I am struggling with and have in the past. Thus, I am quoting from a friend of a friend here (without their knowledge or permission; all identifying information has been removed)
The friend of a friend was discussing relationships with abusive people.
"Therapy often doesn't actually help abusers reform. In fact, it often
gives them new language and new tools to both justify and worsen their
abuse to their victims. (Besides, therapists typically only ever see one
side of the story, their patient's, which means the patient is free to
twist the story however they want to get the therapist to validate all
their bullshit, or at least say things that the patient can interpret as
validating their bullshit.)
(...)
The problem isn't how they (the abuser) feels; plenty of people feel all kinds of
things every single day and still manage to not act on them in ways that
hurt other people. The problem is how they think -- namely, that they
think they are *entitled* to act on how they feel in ways that serve them
and them alone, anyone else's need for safety or truth or care be damned. They always give all these reasons why their shitty behavior is a
product of depression or anxiety or past trauma or their boss being mean
to them or how "difficult" being [in a particular situation] was or what-the-fuck-ever, and their excuse for acting out was"I'm entitled to this behavior."
How do you get someone like them to fix that? (...) You don't. That's a
choice only they can make, and they almost certainly won't ever [without outside intervention]. So all
that's left is to focus on the *effect* their behavior has and limiting
the damage they can do, and *that* takes a village."
I do want to give people the benefit of the doubt and provide them with all the chances possible to resolve conflicts. However, I have been the subject of abuse.I had to learn that sometimes the only possible choice for me is to walk away from the situation and simply choose not to engage. I never come to that decision lightly, but at least I know that is was likely my best possible choice when I do.
Does this have anything to do with situations I have discussed recently? Well of course it does, but there is no one particular person or situation this is speaking to. There have been a number of situations where I have been reminded that boundaries are important and that I not only need to have them, but I should enforce them. I can and should say no, because spending all of my resources on a hopeless case is akin to trying to end poverty by myself. It's simply beyond my abilities.
It is also a reminder that I have limited resources. I am going to have to tell my husband, my child, my friend, or whomever no. I am going to have to tell them that I am unable to help them. They won't like it. I won't like it, but I have to make a choice on what resources I have and how I am able to share them.
This weekend was much less challenging than I thought it would be. For the most part, there was no contact.
I realized that something I said in my previous post was untrue. I said that I had not discussed the situation at fair publicly. That is incorrect. While I have not given the person's name and I have tried to avoid giving identifying details, I recognize that people know who I am talking about.
I also want to talk about it, somewhere. So, I'll admit, I am talking smack in public.
I wish I were able to be more objective and I know that the best thing that I could do is to just shut up and let this all go. However, I am just not that big of a person. The compromise was walked back. I am not clear on the exact details. The reality seemed to be that he could through my usual environment but he wasn't allowed to stay there for a period of time. Each time he came into the environment, it felt like it was to tweak my nose. I tried to ignore it.
I tried to discuss it with a person who is very familiar with the situation. While we did discuss it to a certain degree, I felt like much of the conversation was about was how my situation was impacting other people and inconveniencing them.
I tried not to bring it up during the weekend. I figure that people are sick of hearing about it. My friends are very supportive and made me feel very welcome and loved. I didn't want to repay their kindness with bitterness and negativity.
I went to fair both days. I had a good time, but I was drained by the end of it. I kept my energy up (to a certain degree). I played, I went through the motions and I did have fun. However, being there was emotional work and I was feeling pretty drained by the end of the weekend.
I am glad to see the stuff with regards to my mother's assault case resolved, but it was also emotional labor. I spent time with my uncle, and while I love him dearly, it was also a lot of work. I was exhausted when I finally came home. So, of course, I was put through another emotional obstacle course, because that is how life seems to go at times.
I need to sleep. I need to relax. I have work tomorrow. Instead I am emotionally exhausted, frustrated and I have no idea what I am doing with my students tomorrow.
There was a time when I made the effort to go to a dance venue once a week. There was a 2 hour lesson and then about 2.5 hours of called dancing. When I started, in 1994, I was a beginner. I had some experience with the style of dancing and I quickly progressed to the intermediate class. A while later, I graduated to the advanced class. I did not make it every week: I took some time off when I had my son and there were times when work or other obligations prevented me from attending. However it was an important part of my life and I made sure to make room in my schedule for dancing. Some years after I started as a beginner, I was teaching dance to other people during the lesson and I was calling dances afterward.
It was home.
All things change and while there were many things that contributed, there was one major catalyst. In the course of one night, the place that I considered a home, a safe haven, and the place where I felt welcome became a place where my friends and I were no longer wanted. It was (mostly) due to one person who still organizes the weekly event. They are still enforcing the ban over a decade later. It broke my heart back when it happened and while I still do that sort of dancing, I've never been able to embrace it with the same enthusiasm.
I have tried many sorts of dancing. I have never found a venue that felt like home, but I found ones that I thought were safe spaces. Not too long ago, I upset an organizer (this time it was due to a personal conflict with the organizer, not with a group of friends who were banned as a community). While I have not been formally asked to leave, it was made very clear to me that I would not be welcome at any dance event that this person organizes. I am not great at conflict and so I didn't fight them directly.
I did speak to other organizers about the situation. I found out what happens when it comes to attractive people with charisma and charm, it's really difficult for people who are not impacted to see negative things about them. In spite of giving evidence and observable examples, that person still organizes dance events. I finally gave up and just try to avoid them. There are other venues, and other sorts of dancing, but dancing lost its joy when I realized how fragile the community feels.
The first time I attended the Dickens fair, it was pure magic. As a participant, it was even better. It was a safe space at a time when no other part of my life seemed stable. Not to say that I have never had any issues at the fair. However, once I worked through my problems, Dickens was still there, still a safe space. It was a place where I felt clever and accepted. It was a joy to be there and while every day wasn't perfect, overall, Dickens Fair was the closest I had ever come to finding a "home" since I lost the dance venue so many years ago.
A couple of years ago, that changed. I don't believe it only changed for me. Perhaps it wasn't just two years ago, but that is when I noticed it. The person that I mentioned wasn't just an organizer. They were a friend and they were part of my cast at Dickens. I discussed this last April and again then last week.
I am facing going back to Dickens' Fair this weekend. I am not sure I want to go. I know that many people put in a lot of work and effort to listen to my concerns and address them. I appreciate that, I really do. However, Dickens doesn't feel safe. It doesn't feel like home. It feels like I am getting ready to enter a war zone; a place where I have to protect myself.
It isn't just the person with whom I am having the conflict. It is the people who are angry because of the compromise that was put forth so we could both be at the venue. It is the people who don't seem to be looking at me, because I guess by telling how I felt, I did something wrong. It was the close friend whose first reaction when I explained the situation was to say, "Shouldn't they get a warning or something?"
It's the feeling that by standing up for myself and stating, "Hey I got pushed out of a lot of places because of this person, they can leave me one goddamned venue." is seen as selfish and not considerate of other people.
If I knew how to resolve the bloody situation, I would have. I tried. I spoke to the person directly and they threatened me (and did all they threatened and more). I spoke to mutual friends who tried to mediate and they were shot down cold. The dance venues are in public spaces, but I didn't push my way into any of them. I respected that person's feelings and the people who attend the events they organize. I have not contacted this person in over two years and try not to discuss the situation publicly. I have not intentionally attended any event where I knew they would be. I have not pursued friendships with the people I met through them. I never asked that they be banned from the fair.
Even though a compromise was decided, it doesn't feel real. I don't know many details and I have received a lot of conflicting information. Because of this, I am just waiting for the shoe to drop and for something to happen. Fair doesn't feel like a safe space. I am not looking to Saturday with any anticipation. I am dreading it. My social anxiety is in poisonous blossom; assuring me that it's my fault and that everyone would just be happier if I took the hint and stayed home.
I am not asking for people to reassure me that I'm wanted or that I have a right to be there. I know I am whinging and I am not proud of it. I know that there are hormonal factors and stress factors. I wish I could just claim illness, but that's chicken shit. I know that if I don't go I will feel guilty for putting people through the trouble. I feel that if I attend, I will be nervous and on my guard because I figure everyone is pissed at me. I also feel like it is all my fault, because I should have been able to fix it.
This is a blog, I am expressing how I am feeling. I guess I try to go to Dickens and hope for the best, but I am not sure that I can find the magic anymore.
There are many sides to every story. I do my best to be as objective and unbiased as I can be, because I feel that my doing so I am better able to work on my own issues. While sometimes I want and need love and support, I don't need an echo chamber. I have been very glad that my friends have challenged my perspectives and my opinions.
I am very glad to be able to say that I was heard and that the matter with Kevin has been resolved, at least for the moment. I don't know details (and even if I did, I don't think they are appropriate to be shared). What I feel I can say is that a compromise was worked out that satisfies my concerns. It is a compromise; we are both giving up something that is important. However, it allows us to continue performing.
Someone I nominally know was removed from a venue due to an
accusation of stalking. I do not know the story at all, but their story made me think.
I am sure that Kevin has a very different story to tell about our situation. I had someone try to defend him and I was not unbiased nor did I wish to have my perspective challenged. There is a lot of history and while I hesitate to say never, I do not believe that there will ever be more than an uneasy peace. Discussion and compromise options between the two of us were tried and failed. I did not take this to the venue management directly, this was a two year process.
However, I say with all sincerity that I do not want a situation to arise where anyone, including Kevin, is removed from the venue. I believe that when one person can demand that an individual or a group is no longer allowed to participate in a venue, the loss is felt by the entire community. I want people to feel safe. Safety, in my opinion, does not mean comfortable. People will challenge our beliefs, will disagree with our opinions and may do things that we find questionable. However, provided that they are following the rules of the venue, I do not believe people should be banned just because they make me (or anyone) uncomfortable.
I think it falls to venues to have clearly stated policies and rules about conduct, dress code, and interpersonal behavior. I believe that those policies should follow the law and therefore cannot be due to race, gender, class, or sexual orientation. I think that when there has been a violation of a venues policy and code, it should be clearly communicated to the person or people with a written statement that is signed and dated. I know that isn't always possible, but if someone is banned from a public space, then I believe that the person or people banned should have a clear understanding that they are unwelcome and what policy that they violated.
I say this as someone who has been banned from a venue. I do not know for sure, but a friend and member of "my group" who was banned in 2005 was at the venue a while back. Even though they were never directly involved and it has been over a decade, this friend was asked to leave. I am not going to waste my time and energy to drive up to a venue on a work night only to be asked to leave. I do not know what policy was violated, but my understanding is that it was based on a personal bias of the owners. I believe that the ban was in violation of laws about discrimination, which is why the reason for the ban has never been written down or communicated clearly. A "right to refuse service" is not legal basis, since that it what has been used to refuse service to people because they are the wrong color or gender. I believe that if a person owns a business that is open to the public, it has to serve the entire public, not just the people the owner wants to serve.
I appreciate the love and support I received during over the past few weeks. I am glad that a resolution has been found that did not requires anyone to have to leave the venue. I am not comfortable, but I believe that my concerns about my personal safety have been taken very seriously and addressed fully. I think that is all that needs to be said about it.
The only way to stop a bully, according to my therapist, is to take away their power. I wish my amygdala understood that I needed it to shut up and let me act. It doesn't.
I spent this weekend, mostly Saturday but also some of Sunday, feeling like I was in grade school at the mercy of a bully. It was a horrible feeling and it is making going to the Dickens fair very difficult. It is not something new, this is a continuation of a problem that has been haunting me for the past couple of years.
Kevin returned to fair this year. He came back as a part of a different cast. I saw him at workshops, but we avoided each other. His disdain was palpable, but among my friends it was easy to ignore him.
Things changed on the first day of fair. He wasn't provocative or threatening. He just sat in the same environment as me, being very obvious. I felt he was doing it deliberately and I found it uncomfortable. I said something to some of my friends, but I didn't say anything to anyone else. I figured I would let him piss all over things, mark his territory and that would be an end of it.
It wasn't. He never did anything to that was too overly threatening. He just sat in our environment, like he was still a part of our group. It was maddening, I felt that I couldn't get angry at a person for where they sat, even though I didn't like it.
However in the later part of the day I was getting ready to play my part in the end of Bill Sikes (one of the Dickens villains). I was standing at my "station" with another actor who has also had issues with Kevin. Kevin and another actor were engaging with some of the patrons. According to my mate, Kevin was looking over at us. I was trying to watch for my cue, so I was valiantly attempting to ignore what Kevin was trying to do not 10 feet in front of me. The other actor asked my friend and I if we could take a picture of the lot of the, using one of the patron's phones.
I flailed. My friend stepped up and took the pictures. I was still discombobulated enough that I blew my cue and nearly screwed up the scene. (Thankfully, I work with a lot of fine actors so the scene carried on, despite my mistake.) When I got back to my usual environment, there he was, sitting in the same place.
I tried to speak to one of the directors, one who was near to me, but not my director. They felt that they should not get involved in a directorial sense, although they assured me that they were my friend and would support me as such. I am not sure if they understood that I wasn't angry about some fight. I don't know if they understand that I felt that Kevin was stalking me. I told them that I would be talking to the other directors on Sunday morning and that I was letting them know my intent as a courtesy. I probably didn't communicate it well, but I do respect their choice.
I think the thing that was the most frustrating is that when I told people how I was feeling, I felt like they kept trying to mitigate the situation. I had one person suggest that Kevin didn't mean to harass me. Maybe he shouldn't have been sitting in my cast's environment for so long, but he didn't mean to upset me. He didn't realize that he was interfering with a scene. He's an experienced actor and the set up for a scene was really obvious, but again, he didn't mean to intimidate me.
Kevin came back as the same
character. When I spoke to his director, they used that as an excuse as to why he was using our environmental
stage. He was that character two years ago. He was asked to leave the group. In my opinion, he is allowed to take the character with him if he wants. However, he is with a new cast, so I am of the opinion he should have developed a new character.
I am also of the opinion that if a cast asks you to leave, you leave. You don't come back with the same character. It's a large fair, you make a new place for yourself. Perhaps I am biased, though. I chose to leave a group. I took some time off. When I came back, I came back with a new character, one that had no association with my previous one. While I do go into the environment from time to time, I have never spent more than 30 to 40 minutes there. I do not use it as my stage. I respect the cast members who are working it all day and do my best not to step on their toes.
The next day I spoke to my director, the stage director for my environment and Kevin's director. My director was very supportive. The environmental director listened, but couldn't commit to any action. They did promise to bring the problem up to the overall director of the fair. I don't expect anything to come of it. Kevin's director was very kind, but made excuses and told me that there wasn't much they could do.
Benjamin is playing a character at this fair. There is little to no interaction between Kevin and him and hasn't been in nearly two years. For some reason, Benjamin's director was told about my situation as though it related to him. I do not know why. I do not feel that there is any reason to involve him. I did not discuss him when I related the issues to the various directors. I am really frustrated that Benjamin got dragged into this. It is his first year doing the fair and playing a character. His director had to take him aside during the first weekend to deal with this drama. The rumors I heard it's because Ben has a reputation as a shit stirrer. I have no idea how somone who was pushed from every social group he shared and blackballed is a shit stirrer. I think that the person who spent most of Saturday stalking me is guilty of harassment, but what do I know?
For most of Sunday, Kevin was scarce on the ground. I don't know if anybody spoke to him or not, but he wasn't around our environment. I was just waiting for him to show up. I did not do anything akin to improve or acting. I spent the day playing with yarn. When my director went back stage, Kevin showed up, same place as Saturday. He sat right across from me. I ignored him. I got up to do my bit with Bill Sikes again and it went much better. When I returned, Kevin wasn't there. However between the stress of the day before and looking over my shoulder, I didn't want to play anymore.
I know that if I stop going to fair, I let Kevin win. The only way to deal with a bully is to take away their power. But I don't go to fair to deal with bullies and stalkers. I go to fair to escape my life. I already went through this once with Kevin two years ago. I do not understand why I have to deal with it again. I want to feel safe when I am with my cast. I am angry at Kevin for taking that away from me again.
A friend of mine described how she ends being the ‘mum’ in a lot of her romantic relationships. The relationships go swimmingly until she asks her partner to take responsibility for themselves and take care of her every now and again.
it was all I could do not to say “preach on sister!”
I don’t think I am in the position, although I have seen similar end results. I want to be the good girl. I will be the mom if that is expected, but mostly I just want to please my partner, my friend, my teacher, whomever and get a pat on the head. That's all well and good until I start asking for too much and my partner decides I am too high maintenance.
I don’t know how to ask for what I want. I do as I am asked and I want to be rewarded for it. I’m not service oriented, per say, although I can get into that space. I just want people to be happy with me.
As long as I keep that attitude, I am destined to be disappointed. I believe that It’s impossible to make people truly happy, at least in a way that feels satisfying to me. If I have any failings as a teacher, caring that the students like me and are happy with me would be it. Good teachers are respected and then liked, perhaps loved. I am well-liked, but I don’t always think I am respected.
I have been struggling a lot with the idea that I am not only allowed to ask for things I want, but that I should. I can decide a situation is unfair. I can remove myself from that situation. It might disappoint someone when I do that, but it is all right to take care of myself, even if it makes someone else unhappy.
I can’t force people to treat me fairly. Allowing someone to walk all over me might make people like me, but they won’t respect me.
I just have to keep telling myself this over the next few days as I go to Dickens fair and face some personal challenges. I can’t get angry at people for walking all over me if I lay down in front of them and ask them to do so. No one can push me out of an area or make me feel like I do not belong unless I allow them to.
I am invalidating your feelings. I have to. It's not a matter of want or intention. But I have spent the majority of my life accepting what people give me and being thankful.
I didn't grow up in absolute poverty. My clothes were clean, there was food on the table and I didn't lack for the basics. However, Christmas and birthday presents always involved useful things like socks and clothes. There were times when there was no meat on the table and the food was of the cheapest quality. I remember burning newspaper logs because the gas to heat the house was too expensive. I remember not having a coat for the first freeze because there wasn't enough money to buy one when the fall turned too cold, too soon.
I grew up knowing that my obligation was to my children. My feelings didn't matter, my needs didn't matter. What mattered was making sure that they always had plenty to eat, warm clothes, and that I gave them a better life than I had. It was what I was taught and it was what I thought was the right thing to do.
I have succeeded (mostly). My children are grown and they never saw red beans and rice for dinner for days in a row. They always had new shoes, warm coats and while they did get practical things for presents, they also received things that they wanted, but didn't necessarily need.
I never learned to ask for what I wanted, because I had it. My children were safe, they were taken care of and they had a home.
Now I am supposed to know what I want. I am in the enviable position where I can consider myself first. I have never been in that position. I have always had to consider someone else, my mother, my father, my step-sister and then my spouse and children. I still have a spouse, but for the first time in my life I am not just allowed, but encouraged to think about what I want.
I am working on it, but it is slow going. Its much easier to just try and please other people, because it's what I know best. I am also finding that many people don't understand why spelling out my wants and needs is so difficult for me. I have decided that those are people that I don't need in my life right now. I can't explain 46 years of training and reinforcement that my needs don't matter to people who can't remember a time where their needs weren't relevant to the people around them.
Saying what I want and need feels selfish. Getting my needs and want met feels like I might be taking away from someone else, someone who is probably depending on me. It is very hard for me to separate these two ideas. If I am going to admit that I need something, it means that I trust the person. When someone can't communicate clearly what they are and are not willing to give, it's a problem that I don't have the tools to properly navigate.
I am not sure where to go from here, I guess just taking one step at a time and figuring it out as I go.
I miss going to social venues and just enjoying myself. However, what I am actually asking for is the ability to put my blinders back on. Before, I was able to pretend that men and women were equal and there were only a few outliers. Now I believe differently. I have found that men (and I am sorry, but it seems to be mostly people who ID as male) are in positions of power and they abuse that power to the detriment of many people, most of whom seem to be women or other marginalized populations.
I have lived this inequality for a long time. I worked in the tech field. I remember when I lost a promotion to a male colleague. The reason given was because I had been taken to the emergency room and no one had informed my job that I wouldn't be making it in to work that day. The person who did get the promotion was regularly late, missed work on at least one Monday per month (if not more). However he was also good friends with the male supervisor and so he got the promotion and I didn't.However, I am sure it was due to the greater qualifications of my colleague and because I nearly died in the hospital without telling anyone.
A while back, I joined a new dance community. I was invited by a male friend of mine who organizes and volunteers at many dance venues to attend more regularily. We were just friends with no intent to ever be more. I became part of the community, dancing ballroom, contra, Irish and other types of dance. It was wonderful to be dancing again! My friend and I even taught classes together.
Regrettably, I upset this friend and I found myself suddenly unwelcome at the venues that had once felt so open and welcoming. I can't place all the blame on the former friend. He never physically barred me from attending. However between my training not to be a "problem" and how unwelcome he made me feel, I dropped out of four social groups in the course of the month. People just assumed that I was making a mountain out of a molehill. I had people tell me to just ignore him.
Funny that it didn't occur to people how bad it was until he did the same crap to them. Even then, I still got push back. I still get push back.
It took months for me to point out to people that his behavior was juvenile and as a community leader, he was exercising social capital to exclude people that he did not like or want to share his dance venues. While many people have agreed with me and even spoken up, he is still a community organizer, he still teaches dances classes and his behavior is still tolerated. I believe a woman would have been removed from similar positions if she were to behave in the same manner.
I see it a lot. Men just assume that they should get their way. They get to decide the schedule. They get to decide when and where a conversation starts or ends. A man's feelings change and everyone has to accept that he is right and whatever he did a month ago should no longer matter. If one more man tells me that he deserves a clean slate because he "didn't intend..." I will scream.
Actions have consequences. I have paid the consequences for my actions. I lost my job when I was pregnant with my daughter, because I was pregnant. After we separated, my daughter's father decided I was flaky, since I couldn't keep a job. It never occurred to him that by taking the time off, by being the primary caregiver, by giving up my career, he was able to firmly establish his. All he could see is that I wasn't able to make as much money as he was and that my job history was less stable.
I could keep on ranting, but the people who need to read it, aren't going to. I am just going to end up preaching to the choir.
I can't go to fair, to a dance venue, to most social events without having to deal with the consequences of my choices and actions. I have lived in the bay area a long time and because I have done my best to own my responsibilities, I have also been tarred by them. I don't always like it, but that's been my reality for over 20 years.
The men who are finally getting called on their shit need to realize that there is no statute of limitations. When you hurt someone, when you violate their trust, when you are a selfish asshole, there is a price to be paid. Don't whine to me about being fair. Don't complain because I am the gatekeeper of my own feelings. Don't get angry because I refuse to perform the emotional labor after you have demonstrated how little you value it.
Men (and not all of you, but many of you) have fucked up at one time or another. I am sure you didn't mean to hurt someone, but you did. You have power and you have exercised it. Maybe you didn't mean to push so hard, but you did. Because of men who didn't realize their power or that they were abusing it, I have lost jobs, I have been pushed from social groups. I have been called horrible things, and I have had my integrity, my devotion, and my passion questioned.
Men, you need to ask consent, because there is still an unequal dynamic in this world. Women have been asking consent for our whole lives. If you find the consent thing difficult, welcome to our world and start taking notes; there will be a test.
I feel so alone. Even though there has been an outpouring of support and love, (which I really appreciate), it's been mostly virtual and while wonderful, I just want to relax into someone's arms.
There's my husband and my son. They have been supportive, but they are grieving too. I couldn't let go last night. Today, some of my students have offered hugs, but I have to maintain propriety and I can't really relax for fear of crossing a line.
I am not good at asking for help. When people have offered it, I tend to shy away. Someone offered this morning and I declined because it was the "right thing to do". And they took me at my word and walked away. I just feel so alone and so I lashed out.
I can't speak for anyone else, but if you really want to help, don't ask me. I am giving blanket consent for hugs and whatever support you wish to offer. I will do my best to be thankful and appreciative. Bear with me if I don't seem so right away.
I am overwhelmed. I have a lot going on right now and I have just hit my logistical limit. I can't plan, coordinate, or organize anything. If you ask, I will say no, not because I don't want your help but because I can't figure anything out, much less what I should ask for.
I am in a negative space and it's really hard not to isolate myself from everyone. Reaching out is energy I simply don't have. If all you can offer is virtual help, thank you. I appreciate it. If all you can do is leave me be and not burden me, that's fine, too.
I'm just begging you, today, don't ask me to do anything. Please don't expect anything of me.
I hold grudges. I know that I do. I have probably written about it before, but I don't remember and I don't want to comb through my blog to find out. I'll just make a label for this one.
I have had to make a concerted effort to let go of people that I believe have wronged me. At a certain point, holding on to anger over disagreements about child rearing, money issues, and the other disagreements between me and my ex-husbands just seemed stupid. My children are both over 18. There will always be some financial and emotional crossover between The Dads and me, the fact is that putting my children in the middle when they are trying to plan college, weddings or other life events is not useful. It is easy for a divorce to become acrimonious, but experience has shown me that no matter how unfair I might feel this or that thing was, it seems to be more important to respect my children and their choices than to expect them to choose sides between me and their other parent(s). I don't wish to lie to my children. If they ask for my side of the story, I will give it to them. However, I try to to make sure that they actually want to know what I think, not tell them because I want to vent. (I have wonderful friends for that.)
I did tell my side of the story about an interaction a while ago. I do have a grudge. I am angry. I haven't really let it go. I found out today that the person with whom I have some very bad blood is likely to return to a social activity that we were both a part of. While there were many sources of conflict, one of the big problems is that I felt that this person was trying to push me out of this shared social group. Given that I have allowed them to make me uncomfortable in most of the local contra dances and a couple of other dance venues, I am not happy that their return will likely remove me from one of the few dance venues at this social event where I felt welcome and was made to feel very valued.
I am afraid that another relationship (the on-again/off-again one) will be put under further pressure because of this person's return. I want to be an adult. I recognize that people grow and change. I understand that the right thing to do is just deal and let it all go.
However, I am frustrated. I let myself get pushed out of so many social venues because of this person. I made the choice and I shouldn't blame them, but I do. I want to show them what its like to feel shunned from a place where you once felt welcome. I want them to know what it's like when people don't understand why it's work to go to a social event that used to be a refuge. I want them to know what it's like to have pressure put on your friendships, relationships and your family because someone was so self-absorbed they couldn't seen the negative impact of their actions, only see the revenge they were taking.
I want them to know what it's like to feel like you don't belong and are not welcome in your chosen family.
The sad thing is that this person probably does know how all those things feel. That's what makes it worse. I believe they were ostracized. They went through all of that, more than once. Despite knowing how devastating it can be, I feel that they still used their social status to attack or shun other people (I am not the only one) because they decided they were hurt enough to justify it.
I told one of my students today that sometimes life forces us to let go of these feelings and simply hold our own. There is no retribution. There is no fair. There is going forward and not looking back. I let a couple of the people who were also affected know that this person was to be expected. I will make sure that I have some additional support in case anything happens and offer additional support to those who might need it.
My intention is to simply do my best to avoid this person and hope that they do the same. I have better things to spend my bandwidth on than a fight that happened over two years ago.
However, this is my blog and so here, I am angry and pissed. It still hurts, it still messes with a couple of my important relationships and my refuge from reality feels like it is less safe at a time when I really needed it to feel secure. Dammit, I also want to dance and the group this person is joining is the one that liked me so much last year, they offered me a place. It was one of my favorite places to go and I found out today that it is likely closed to me. I want to stomp and throw tantrums, because I introduced this person to this social venue. They got all of their other venues, they could have left this one thing the fuck alone.
I stumbled on this today and it seemed perfect, so today's song is a cover of a Phil Collins' song by Lorde.
The #metoo thing has given me lots of pause. I have always been a tom-boy, ran with the guys and for the most part just accepted that I would never be one of them. I have always taken some level of harassment because of it. By the same token, I have been protected because I was the girl. Whether it was online forums when I was in high school, my college gaming group or Renaissance Faires, I took it for granted that if I got into trouble, one of the knights (Sniper Elite, Chevy Slayer, Zindelo, or 'Just Jim') would take care of it. I am probably fortunate that my instances of direct harassment have been relatively rare.
I felt like my post on facebook about my harassment being when I was pregnant made it less important than the many women who have been forcibly harmed or had their consent violated.
That's when it hit me. I have not been directly harassed all that often. A catcall here, a dick pic there, but I can think of only a few instances where my consent was violated. (How sad is that? I think I am lucky because I haven't been harassed as much as other people.) However, consent is a very fluid thing for me. It isn't that I haven't been harassed. It's that I wouldn't define it as such because I never objected.
That is another problem. I usually consent. I don't know how to say no to a partner. As long as they are not asking for anything to heinous, I will go along. I will be GGG. The guy who wanted to choke me after I said no, that was too much. I stopped seeing him. But for the most part, I do as I am asked and do so with enthusiasm. So look at me, I have some standards. I have some agency.
No, I don't.
I haven't the foggiest idea how to look a partner in the eye and tell them. "I would like position A, I want pattern Alpha Sigma, and I would like it now, please." I was never taught that I was allowed to make requests. In fact, when I have asked, I feel like I am usually pushed back. There was the partner who encouraged me to ask for what I wanted. When I did, their response made me feel like they were too busy to see me and they weren't really interested after all. I had the partner who didn't have much of a libido (thank you anti-depressants) and so we were only intimate on the rare occasions when they initiated. There is the partner who would get really emotional about sex and so whenever we were fighting, there was no sex. (Angry, make-up sex is amazing and damn me if I don't miss it.)
I suppose what I am saying is that I feel like that I am not supposed to have a sex drive of my own. I am not supposed to have wants, needs and desires. I am supposed to take care of them myself and not impose on anyone else.
For pity's sake, I just want to get fucked and fucked hard. Why is that so difficult for me to come by? I just feel ugly, unattractive, and worthless, which isn't helping. Desperation is not the perfume I want to wear, but I seem to be soaking in it every day.
My therapist says that I need to develop a relationship with myself. She suggested I get some pretty negligees and being a little more forward about my sexual desires with my partner(s). I like my therapist, I really do. This time I feel like she told me that I should try base jumping, just to give my life a little more excitement. I think it would be easier than admitting that I have needs that aren't getting fulfilled.
I couldn't find a song that really fit, so I decided to just turn to Journey. They had a good line at least and one of the people I mentioned above said today, "if we go our separate ways, please know you are always welcome" so the song has been in my head for most of the day.
I refer to my depression as the black dog (video link). I used that video for teaching psychology and decided that I really liked the analogy. When I do something or don't do something that makes my depression worse, I call it feeding the black dog. I say it that way because one of the hardest things for me to realize about my depression is that I control it, it does not control me.
Control isn't a great word, but it's 4am and I can't think of a better one. There are times when I feel completely helpless to my depression and the idea that I can control it seems laughable. However, that's why I like thinking of it as a black dog. When you have a dog that is hard to control you can let it run your life. You don't ask people to visit. You can't go away because you can't leave the dog alone. You isolate yourself in your home and wonder why you are so alone.
Taking control of the dog isn't easy. It can seem overwhelming. It can nearly be impossible to do it alone. Depression can seem overwhelming. It can be nearly impossible to control and live with it alone.
Therapy and medicine is like putting the dog on a leash. It helps me have some measure of control of the dog. It makes me to feel less overwhelmed. However, a leash is only an aid. It can be pulled against, chewed on or it gets twisted around my legs. The black dog is really damn clever. It can slip the leash. That is why having another person around is so important. When the black dog slips the leash, I need help and it's much easier to put the black dog back on the leash when someone else is there, assisting me.
I have to pause and think, what about the person that is helping me? I am taking from them. I am relying on them and if I am not careful, I can abuse them. There are times when I think that I am asking too much of the people around me. Even though I know that the black dog encourages those feelings, I believe they have some merit. There are times when I have to ignore my black dog and everything it wants me to believe in order to take care of someone else.
I have to remember that the black dog is not real. It won't punish me later unless I allow it to do so. Whatever is fueling my depression isn't more important than my family, my friends, or my obligations. It can feel like that black dog is sitting on my chest and making it hard for me to breathe and I still have to get up and do whatever I am supposed to do.
There are times when the black dog gets the better of me. There are times when I let it win. I feel horribly guilty. I feel bad for the social obligations I have skipped (I have missed too many weddings because of that damn dog). I feel like I have let people down. I feel like I am a bad person. I want to isolate myself and run away. I want to hide. It is really hard not to come down hard on myself and think awful things. Once the black dog gets the better of me, it's a real struggle not to feed it, to make it stronger, to make it bigger. It is when I am at my lowest and smallest that I need other people the most.
That is also the time I am the least likely to ask for help. It is the time when I am more likely to let the black dog win. I know that is what happened last December. My life spun out of control. I was lonely, I was isolated and that damn dog was sitting on my chest and making it difficult to breathe. I never want to be alone like that again.
The lesson I have learned since January is that the black dog will never go away. It is a dog for a reason. It waits for me, it follows me, sometimes it seems like my only friend. There is comfort in pushing everyone away and just focusing on my black dog. I have to remind myself that it's trap. When my black dog feels like the most appealing thing in the world, that is when I have to push myself to get out of the house, to get out of my comfort zone and leave the black dog behind.
As a side note, I find it very amusing that as I am writing this, my cat is cuddled up close to me and purring. Hey look, I can take a picture to share. ---->
My partner has a black dog of his own. There are times when I feel like his black dog is more important to him than I am. I can't always see the black dog on his chest, but I have to remember that it is there.
I also have to remember that I can't let his black dog run my life. I can still ask him for things, expect him to do things around the house and be a part of our partnership. I also have to realize that there is only so much he can do with a black dog sitting on his chest.
It's not easy.
Last night was a bad night for the black dog. It was crouching on my back and growling. Between the pain, the stress at work, some concerns about Dickens and other things, it was a bad night. I got a gut punch right before bedtime, so sleep was an issue. I woke up at 3 and it doesn't look like today will be an improvement. I am not sure how I am going to manage work on only three hours of sleep. I see a very large coffee in my near future.
Regardless, I am leaving the black dog at home, I am going to work and I will get through today. It won't be easy, but it can and will be done.
I am going to go back to the Alan Parson's Project for today's song.
I am very fortunate. While I can and do suffer from chronic pain, it is not permanent (at least not yet). My immune system does eventually fight off whatever is causing me trouble. The pressure eases and the pain begins to fade. I know people who are not so fortunate and I am always impressed and humbled by their ability to get through each day.
Yesterday I raged at the people who don't understand what being in pain is like, how it impacts my ability to function, to offer support and most importantly, function. Today, I'd like to discuss the ways I have been supported and what I am doing to take care of myself. I am going to attempt to be positive.
I think the most powerful thing I have done is learn to give myself permission not to be 100%. I made soup from a mix last night. It required boiling water. It took little effort and provided a hearty meal for everyone in the household. My son complimented me on the garlic boboli I made and instead of saying something like "It was easy, it was just some butter and garlic powder." I said, "Thank you, I'm glad you liked it."
I decided that I am going to make a egg frittata tonight. If I stop off at Trader Joe's right after school it won't be too crowded. I can get lunch for tomorrow and pick up some spinach and cheese. It gives me time to rest before I have to cook. If I am really lucky, I can show my son how to make it (and have him do some of the work) and should end up with a healthier dinner tonight without too much effort.
I put a video on for my US History students and instead of planning a complex homework assignment from their text, I told them to take "book notes" on the two sections that we haven't covered yet. I found an assignment from Stanford that will occupy them tomorrow, which means that I won't have to do heavy lifting when it comes to my teaching.
These might all seem like simple things to do, but this is hard for me. I feel that a teacher should be actively involved with her students every minute they are in the classroom. I know that it is impossible, but in a room full of people it is difficult for me not to be "on". However if I am "on" all day, every day in my classroom, I have no energy for anything or anyone else. When I tell someone that I am still at work and already "out of spoons" or whatever metaphor I am using, I need to really make sure they understand that I am tapped out. I also have to tell myself it is okay to tell someone, "I am tired, I can't talk, phone, text, carrier pigeon with you anymore." Then I need to stop communicating with them until I am ready to engage.
It's that second part that is really difficult for me. I am trained to respond to queries. My upbringing taught me that my needs were always superseded by my mother's. She worked full time and was middle aged. I was young and just went to school, so no matter what I was doing, I was expected to drop everything and attend to her when she called. I carried that to my children, my husband, my friends. If someone contacts me, regardless of the medium, I feel obligated to respond. It is really hard for me to put down my phone when it makes noise at me.
I have to remember that it is okay to be unavailable. I have to remember that I don't have to apologize for being in pain, for being tired or being ill. It's not a mistake I made or a poor life choice. It's simply the way I am. The people that love me will understand and the rest can leave me the hell alone.
I am going to explain why I am trying to push for the positive. I regret that to explain does not make for a terribly positive post.
I have Hashimoto's Disease. I was diagnosed ten years ago. I live with it because I have no alternative. As I have gotten older, the symptoms and complications have gotten worse. Each time I get sick, it takes longer for me to recover my health. It means that something as simple as an earache becomes a lesson on what it means to be in chronic pain. It means hoping that I will get better before the next illness hits me. It means spending all of my sick leave every year.
I hate the spoon theory right now. I wish I had spoons. I would love some spoons, because I have shit that I am supposed to accomplish, regardless whether or not I have "the spoons."
I woke up in pain.
I went to work in pain.
I took medications as soon as I could, but:
I taught my classes while in pain until the medicine kicked in.
The pain medications aren't as effective as they used to be, but I can't take more, so I just go through my day in pain, with some blessed periods where the pain isn't too bad.
I don't eat much, because between the medications, my diabetes, and the fact that I am in pain means finding food and eating it is often more trouble than its worth. However, the pain medication upsets my stomach, so if I don't eat, I can add nausea to the mix.
I am not sure which is worse, the nausea or the pain. I suppose it doesn't matter, because either way, I am still in pain.
I feel like the people in my life don't understand that part. I am still in pain.
I feel like I am constantly apologizing. I apologize because I didn't make dinner. I apologize for not feeling social. I apologize because I need more than I give. I apologize for needing anything. I think that "I'm sorry." are the words I say the most every day.
I also hide. I hid that I was in excruciating pain this morning. I went to sleep tense and increased my pain. When I am asked how I was feeling, I hid behind a smile and said, "I'm doing better" so that they wouldn't feel guilty for going to work.
A friend quoted Ben Franklin today, "Tell me and I forget. Teach me and I remember. Involve me and I learn." So I have tried. I have attempted to involve people in what is going on with me.
A friend has to be in Palo Alto tomorrow. They asked if they could stay in my guest room. They specifically said, "I know I am asking you for a favor, so I don't want to ask too much."
I believed this person was aware of what is going on. I let them know that I hadn't gotten home yet, but that I didn't mind having them over. However I also told them, "I'm in pain. I didn't sleep well...If you just want to avoid the traffic, you're welcome to come down whenever and sleep in the guest bed."
The person offered their help and support three times. I declined, replying "I just got home. There's no dinner prepped. I'm tired. I'm in pain. So if you want to sleep in the guest bed, let me know. I'm not up to being pleasant and understanding today, so I won't ask anything of you."
They replied, "I'm sorry. I don't have the spoons to come down tonight. Thank you for understanding."
Then they had the temerity to complain that they were going to have to drive in traffic. That is when I lost it. I stopped apologizing. I stopped hiding. I stopped giving a fucking damn. I had tried to teach my friend what was going on with me. I tried to involve them. I thought that they were willing to share this with me, that they wanted to understand. I thought they cared and meant their offer of help. I guess I can't blame them since I did what many people in chronic pain do, I apologized, I hid, and I pretended to be fine.
But I am not fine. Because. I. Am. Still. In. Pain.
I made dinner even though I was in pain. If I didn't cook, I wouldn't eat. I didn't get to skip doing my laundry tonight. I haven't done it in days and if I didn't do it tonight, I wouldn't have clean clothes tomorrow. It didn't matter if I ran out of spoons when my friend asked me if they could spend the night in the guest room. It didn't matter that after I was honest with them about my pain, they decided that they weren't up to taking me up on the favor that they had asked me for.
It didn't matter, BECAUSE I AM STILL IN PAIN.
I ate my dinner. I made cheddar potato soup because it doesn't hurt to eat it and it coats my stomach enough for another round of pain medication. As a diabetic, it's a crappy choice, but it was what was available at home. Soup was all I could handle because I am in pain.
I took my pain medications because they do provide some relief. It's enough relief that I can rotate the laundry, at least. That's about all, because I am still in pain.
I hesitated to write this entry because I don't want to people to think that they have to tiptoe around me. I am not an invalid. I just want people to have a clue how much I am sometimes hiding, how compelled I feel to apologize and how much support I could really use at times. I understand that there are people, many people, who are unable to offer that sort of support. I understand, I really do. I sympathize. It sucks to see someone in pain and feel like there is nothing you can do.
What I can't stand is when someone offers their help or takes a favor and then decides that they can't follow through. When someone tells me that they don't have the spoons, the energy, of whatever, but only after I tell them what is going on with me, honestly and openly.
Someone says that they will help and then they don't. Someone calls me on their way home and asks me if I need anything and then stays in their room all night because they are tired. Someone calls me and refuses to listen to my problems because they want to tell me all about theirs. In all of those cases and so many more, I am powerless to do anything but stew, because I am still in pain.
And that is what chronic pain means to me. It means putting up with everything with this constant reminder that it hurts. it doesn't matter if people remember today or not, because I am still in pain. It doesn't matter if dinner was made. It doesn't matter if anyone offered to help me with my laundry. It doesn't matter if a friend asked a favor and then decided that they didn't want to deal with me. It doesn't matter.
Because I am still in pain.
However what does matter is that now I am in more pain. I ate food that wasn't great for me, which will have consequences later. I did chores that I didn't have energy for, so I am more tired than I should be. However the worst of it is that I am in pain and feel all alone, so distracting myself becomes nearly impossible.
I also feel ashamed, because I have nothing to offer of value. I am just in pain and need. I apologize, I try to hide, but it isn't enough. Nothing is enough and so all I can do is try to keep everyone from knowing how bad it is. That I honestly don't know how I will survive another night hurting like this. I don't know how I can sleep without pills and know that with them the sleep isn't meaninful. I don't know how to control my blood sugar when I can't eat the way I should. I go to sleep knowing that tomorrow I will wake up in pain and I will have to go through it all over again.
I'm still in pain and it colors everything else, every interaction, every relationship, every word I speak and every thought I have.
I don't have any fucking spoons. I just have stuff I have to do, whether I want to or not. I make hard choices but it's not about whether or not I will do a thing. It's about how much damage I will do in the short term and hope that I will somehow make it through the end of the day so I can do it all over again.
And this is why if anyone tells me that they have run out of spoons I think I might have to take an actual spoon and shove it up their sinuses via their nose. Then maybe they'd have an idea of what my life has been like for the past few weeks.
Okay, time for some food so I can take the next round of pain killers before bedtime. Milk is too cold, so tea and cookies it is. Is it healthy? No, but my healthy alternatives hurt and are too difficult to come by.
Because, I am still in pain and I have get some sleep, at least.
Tell me and I forget. Teach me and I remember. Involve me and I learn. Read more at: https://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/b/benjaminfr383997.h
I don't have a lot to say (for once). Oh wow, I just did it. The thing that I am going to try and stop doing. *sigh*
Okay, I am going to try again.
I decided to try stop apologizing and simply say thank you.
I am going to try and respond with a positive answer.
I am going to try and declare what I want and accept that the answer is no and that it isn't personal.
This isn't easy, but I am going to try it for a while and see how things go. Wish me luck.
Depression has to one of the most vile afflictions known to humans. I can think of nothing more devastating to one's day to day life that dealing with an illness that has is so misunderstood and receives so little support.
Last night I made a damn fool of myself and spoke to them.
The exchange didn't go well. I was emotional and upset. They were also emotional and upset and I feel that we are no better off than we were. Well, that's not entirely true. I did learn a piece of information that I didn't know. They thought that I had decided to break up with them while I thought they had initiated the break up.
I don't want our relationship to end. I never did. I am frustrated because I feel like I need their support and they are withholding it. I understand that it isn't deliberate. I understand better that they are in the midst of a nasty depressive episode and I am trying to accept that they simply can't help me.
I would like to reiterate that the world is stupid. It should be all their fault and I should get to be full of righteous indignation, having been wronged.
I just want things to be better, to be fixed. I don't know how to do that. I guess I should just leave them be, since everything else seems to make things worse. Having dealt with my own depression, it seems that leaving them alone is the worst possible solution. (Yes, I have my own needs and a lot of the conflict has been because I feel like my needs aren't getting met.)
I feel that my options are limited. I think I better understand why anger is so often a part of a break up. It's a lot easier to be angry than recognizing that the other person is hurting. I am leaving someone I love in an emotional oubliette. Yes, I know that, like me, they have people who love and care for them. That doesn't make it any easier to leave when I know they are in such pain.
I don't know if I should stay. I don't trust my emotions and sticking around where I don't feel welcome makes me feel desperate. I also doubt that they feel that they can tell me, "Rachel, I need you. Can you please do X, Y, and Z and listen to me about a, b, and c? I think that would really help me."
I know I could be patient. I know that I could just wait. However if you really think that I am truly capable of patience, you haven't met me, have you?
I am not looking forward to this weekend. I hate the idea of trying to distract myself from these thoughts and pretending that everything is going as planned. I should be at the music festival or Ren Faire. I should be, but I don't know if I can.
Maybe that's why I am obsessing over The Alan Parson's Project right now. It's something distracting and absorbing, but familiar enough not to be difficult. Thus another song from them today. I hadn't remembered that they had adapted a poem from Edgar Allan Poe, although I am pretty sure I had been told.
I just spent the past hour walking around my campus talking to my colleagues. I resolved a number of the things that were causing me stress at work. Usually I just e-mail because I am on the other side of campus from my department. The upside has been that I am almost completely unaware of any of the drama that has been going on. The administration also forgot that I could be called upon to proctor for PSAT testing next Wednesday, so I will have a wonderfully easy day.
The downside is that I don't talk to my coworkers nearly often enough. I opted out of the collaboration time due to union concerns. My current schedule makes it difficult for me to get over to the department office for lunch. I have been really anxious and depressed, which has made leaving my classroom even harder.
I was also reminded that talking is always better than writing or texting. Talking to someone openly and honestly, face to face can resolve a lot of issues. It can't resolve everything and communication is something I have been poking at. I was not raised by conversationalists. My family is made up of linguists, historians and storytellers. We are great at holding court and dominating the conversation, but listening is not one of my better skills. In addition, I spend my day being approachable to 160+ teenagers. I am tired of handling everyone's problems, by the end of the day, I find it very hard to listen after a day of not feeling heard.
I am going to try and get better at listening. I stumbled across an article about the Ford Technique, it's a bit simple, but it is a place to start with my students (and everyone else.)
Relationship Processing
I know I have been writing up a storm in my blog. I feel like I am mostly purging my cache. I feel like it's repetitive and not me at my most constructive. I believe that's perfectly acceptable, I am processing and in my opinion what I have been writing is what processing is. Anyway, I don't see my therapist for two more weeks. :-/
Someone recently commented to me and said, "So, you broke up with that person?" And I had to think about it and I said, "Technically you can't break up a relationship that was already off and on. Don't get me wrong, there is, was, and likely will be a relationship. However, whatever we were it was undefined and I believe that was part of the problem."
They gave me a look and told me to quit being a such a damn diplomat and just talk.
I thought about it for a minute and I tried again, "Ok, yes, I guess you could say I broke up with them, but in my head. It's not what I wanted. It's not making me happy. I tried e-mailing, but I felt it was just us taking pot shots at the other and it wasn't resolving anything. I tried texting, but that wasn't any better. We aren't talking, we haven't spoken since things when so badly on Monday. I just backed off of them and the relationship."
I continued, 'I can't stand being in limbo and I feel like we have been in relationship limbo for so long. I decided that I should try to move forward as though we are "broken up". I have a blog, I wrote down that we were broken up because that is a reflection of my current reality and made it real to me. Because hope is killer when your heart is broken.. Already frustrated, angry and in the middle of a raging snit, I took their silence to what seemed like an obvious conclusion that they had already broken the relationship with me and left me in the dust.'
My friend nodded and responded, "So you were tired of having Schrodinger's Relationship?"
I frowned and said, "I guess that is as accurate as anything, and honey I love you, but you are a huge nerd."
"You're going to blog this aren't you?"
"Umm...yeah."
Another song from Hair, but I am going with the Three Dog Night Version, since I can't find a better version on You Tube.
One of my favorite psychology jokes goes like this: Therapist: During our last session, I suggested you write a letters to people that you feel have hurt you and then burn them. Patient: I did that, it really helped me work through my anger. I just have one question: what do I do with the letters?
I have not contacted the 'relationship person" since Tuesday. That might not seem like a big deal, but we were in the habit of talking daily. Silence is difficult for me (as I have noted). I suppose I should be grateful, they stopped responding to anything I was saying. whenever I am tempted to contact them, I just remember that they made the choice to stop talking to me and try to respect it. I nearly broke down and wrote to them at 3am this morning. I woke up with a lot of stress induced pain. I took some ibuprofen and while I was waiting for it to kick in, I thought of things I wanted to say. I thought about writing them down. Remembering the results of a friend who contacted their ex at 3am, I distracted myself until I went back to sleep. I didn't write to that person, but the ideas are still in my head. So I'll put my thoughts here, because they are festering.
It really came down to a couple of questions.
1) Was what stuff this person felt they needed to accomplish last weekend so important that it was worth destroying any chance of rebuilding our relationship? Was there any one thing that was so essential for this week that they couldn't have extended some understanding and compassion and cut me some slack this past weekend? I know that question might seem a bit harsh. It probably is. However, one of the things I have been thinking about is how often that many women put aside their own priorities for the needs of their family, their loved ones and even their friends. I suppose it is something I have had to internalize as a teacher, there are a million things that you will want to accomplish and a good teacher realizes that on some days they are lucky if they manage to get one thing on that list completed. Maybe I am being inflexible or unsympathetic, but I can't think of anything that was on the person's list that was so important that it was worth ending a relationship over. Maybe it was that they feel that I didn't respect that they had a list at all? 2) I did not cease communications until it was clear that I would receive no response. Is that what they want, to stop all communication? Because that is what it seems like and given their silence, I feel I have no option but to respect their silence with the same. I guess I have hit the part where I regret. I know that the relationship, at least its current iteration, is not viable. I usually feel that months of separation and limited to zero communication is best for everyone involved. I mostly feel that way with regards to this person. However having given it some thought, I realize that my usual protocol has flaws. This person and I have too many connections who can be patient in the short term, but within a few weeks I feel our silence will be an issue. There is carpooling, going to the bathroom at their house and shared social venues. I am no better at negotiating a post relationship "friendship" than I am at figuring out how to deal with a breaking heart. I was talking to my husband last night about this person. I said something sarcastic and my husband stopped me short. He told me that he has always been patient with this volatile relationship and polite to this person because he feels that this person, overall, has been a valued contributor to our lives. He reminded me that between my illness, some personal things and other outside factors, I am raging and angry. It might be an appropriate response to what occurred, but that I shouldn't be too angry at this person's silence because who would want to deal with me when I am in the midst of an almighty rage fit?
I think I am right to be angry. I see my husband's point, I am raging. My anger isn't just about this past weekend, but the build up from too many similar arguments and fights. My husband was clear that he didn't think I was wrong, he called this person's actions regrettable and lacking support (if you know my husband, you would understand that is about as much anger as he is likely to express). My husband noted that when I am raging, I am not known for my compassion, reason or patience.
Why can't it just be all the other person's fault and I can be the wounded party who gets all the sympathy? Why do I have to be patient? Well, I guess I will just have to suck it up and stick it out. I may write and write and write, but every hour, every day, I don't push more words on them, I guess that's an accomplishment. Thank you for giving me an audience for my crazy ramblings. I am ending today with a quote I found yesterday. When this person and I write to each other we often try to include pithy quotes or meaningful songs. So if I were writing them a letter, this would be included at the end. "Most of us need time to work through pain and
loss. We can find all manner of reasons for postponing forgiveness. One of
these reasons is waiting for the wrongdoers to repent before we forgive them.
Yet such a delay causes us to forfeit the peace and happiness that could be
ours."
But as this isn't a letter, but a blog post, I will include a song choice. The one silver lining of this whole ordeal has been that I have been going through the Alan Parson Project discography. How I missed them is a mystery. There is so much to explore! It's a little painful, not only because this person is the one who used two of their songs to tell me...something. But also, going through the music, I can see how my father would have really appreciated their music and I have to wonder if my father ever listened to the group.
Most of us need time to
work through pain and loss. We can find all manner of reasons for
postponing forgiveness. One of these reasons is waiting for the
wrongdoers to repent before we forgive them. Yet such a delay causes us
to forfeit the peace and happiness that could be ours.
Read more at: https://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/j/jamesefau621143.html
Read more at: https://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/j/jamesefau621143.html
