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March 1, 2006
Mansfield, PA -
Nurturing and feeling
Weird stuff keeps going on/off in my head. I got Ellie's response
to my packet, and her feedback was positive, but I reacted weirdly.
I think I see her as an authority/pedestal figure, and I never
do well in those relationships. I'm comfortable/miserable in that
one-down position. It's not Ellie's fault. I put myself here. I got scary hysterical the other night, but I journaled
the whole time. Journal-cry-journal-cry. I discovered lots of childhood
stuff I hadn't looked at before. It's embarrassing being so slayed
and undermined by things that happened long ago by people who are
mostly dead. The next day, I was exhausted.
I'm at Bill's. He's really sick with the flu. Mostly he just sits
upright and dazed in front of old Star Treks, except when he has
these awful, explosive coughing episodes that hurt even me to watch.
I'm wearing fuzzy, pale blue pajamas with snowmen on the front, so
there's not a lot of sexual energy today at Calamity Ranch. I came
up last night and I'll be here until Sunday or Monday. I'm mopping
his brow, and discovering I'm a pretty shitty nurse. I had one therapist
who said I wasn't good at nurturing because I never got enough as
a child. But I really want to be a good nurturer.
It's cozy with the snow coming down, and the house so warm, and
I'm wandering back and forth from cooking to reading to typing, here
in the bedroom.
I had a weird time at breakfast when I started reflecting again
on my meltdown. I could feel myself losing it again, so I came upstairs
and read what I wrote the other night, and lost it AGAIN. I'm really
sensitive and weak right now, but it isn't hopeless sadness. This
feels cathartic and clean, even if it is ragged and raw. But it's
still scary being wracked by sobs and feeling sort of, but not totally
out of, control.
Ellie said, "When you were crashing,
was it as if there was a very quiet other self who was calmly watching
and taking care of you?"
It was! It was okay, as it was the first time, because it isn't
black, hopeless sadness. This feels cathartic. But my question is,
which piece of me is watching me fall apart?
The self loathing has always felt like part
of my muscles and bones. Like it was part of me. But connecting
with my body and going through the crashes is starting to distance
me from that ugly self-hating piece of me. That piece belongs to
the people who were cruel, but my friends love me for who I am.
Ellie cautioned me about being too honest, but I just realized
that my honesty is ammunition against the inner voice saying, "But if they REALLY knew you..." They
do know who I am, and they still love me. I see the value of boundaries,
and I know mine aren't great, but at this point that's the purpose
my honesty serves.
Since the other night, the self-hating piece feels like it's shriveling
in my body, turning into a husk, and will eventually dissolve, because
it isn't mine. It was put there by other people and it's no longer
welcome. It's someone else's posession. Other people ridiculed and
hurt me, but it
doesn't mean I have to keep doing it. It isn't and never was a part
of me, even though just a while ago, it felt like an integral part
of bones and muscles. Does that make sense?
I kinda wish I were home for these crying jags,
so I didn't have to worry about the embarrassment factor. When I
got really sobby there was stuff absolutely pouring out of my nose
and mouth and eyes into a puddle on the floor. Part of me wants to
be wrapped in hugs, but another part doesn't want to worry about
getting snot on someone else's brand new fuzzy, queen-sized blanket
that, okay, I bought for Bill yesterday, but it really takes the
newness out of someone's possession to know someone got their snot
all over the part that's next to your face. Bill came up later and
he just hugged me. When I apologized about the snot, he said he's
gotten snot on so many of his belongings in the last week that a
little more won't hurt. He's such a nice man, and I'm beyond lucky
that he loves me.
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