Wednesday, September 27, 2006

"Heaven help me for the way I am"

Dramaz, sheesh. The drama has subsided. It was getting pretty fever pitch's embarassing to explain it all, but last night, after an amazing pork chop dinner by Shawn (Jami's SO right - those two artists will cause weight gain in a heartbeat), I had an awful time sleeping. I had a panic attack and started to pack all my stuff up again in the dark, and almost walked it all over in the dark, back to the barn. I woke up ready to move back, but Shawn sat me down for a while to talk it out, and I realized that the move, the action, was to show that I needed to do something. But moving wasn't the thing I needed to do. I needed to do the big talk about why I'm freaking out. So, after busting ass on an application (finit! In the mailbox!) and talking to a friend and my sister, I did that, and then it all washed away. It turns out that's all I had to do: stand up for myself and be honest. I'll get a separate entrance/exit so I don't have to walk through anyone else's space, and I almost bust my arm again just moving all my stuff back.

Learning, learning, learning. It's endless. I thought I'd be safe here from myself, but that was my typical defense. I remember my bodyworker telling me about how the energy patterns of our old habits don't die as easily as physical or psychological ones, and that we keep doing things that are harmful for a long time. I just repeated something I always do: something upsets me, I don't say anything, freak out about it while my imagination (which flies twice around the equator when given an inch) runs wild, and then after a lot of talking down and therapy, I finally confront the first issue. Which by then may be anywhere from a week to a year old.

Paranoia is funny. You think the whole world is out to get you, which means this: the whole world first has to care about you enough to do that. You think you are despicable and exalted all at the same time. 'S very exhausting. I wish I could say that I'm retired from all that, but I have proven to myself that I'm not. But at least this time, I didn't have to lose any friends. These artists probably think I'm a nutcase, but I think they might still talk to me if I'm very nice.

Finally! I can work now. If the arm holds up (Chela recommended ibuprofen. I took some last night and feel better...maybe I'll have some more tonight).


  1. Ah yes, I think of it as my Center of the Universe club. So important, so reviled. You describe a feeling that I know well. and I'm glad you are better!

  2. awww, thanks. like gili, i feel really thankful for all the support i've been getting from everyone.


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