i’m trying to find the quiet places inside.
i’m trying meditation again and the idea keeps resurfacing that there is a place inside of me without pain. i keep trying to remind myself of this, though my first thought was a jaded, “Where? where the fuck is that place?” And i wound up falling asleep the moment the meditation is over. As if my body responded by telling me that the only place semi-free from pain is when i’m asleep. But, of course, there must be a better answer and i need to keep trying to find it. Frankly, the only time there is no pain and exhaustion is in the moments and hours following a hard beating.
Enough whining on that topic. More than enough, i’d say.
i’m having technical issues which is really upsetting me. For reasons i cannot begin to understand by little old laptop shut down and evidently needed a rest of its own for days. Then my very large somewhat newer laptop had its own issues, along with shutting down unceremoniously in the middle of important work. Not fun. Not appreciated.
Easter makes me feel tender. i miss my nephews more around this holiday than most of the others. i miss their laughter, holding them, playing together, raising them. They have spent more of their lives outside of my arms than within them now and all i can do is pray they are safe and happy. That somewhere inside they carry the spark of my love and can recall how much i adore them. Somehow, i doubt that anyone would have the all-encompassing adoration for them that i do, that mommy love that overtakes your soul. i hope somewhere inside they remember that, even as i hope they forget me.
That is a lot of hope for someone who doesn’t believe in hope.
Yesterday was unexpected and nice. i got to spend some time with a friend, though the day ended in a sort of comedy of errors, we still enjoyed each other’s company. i obtained a non consentual photo on my phone, of a certain Lady riding on the bus with a life size teddy bear on her lap. The bear got a few hugs from the both of us before he was donated along with two huge suitcases of assorted items. i was surprised that the shelter here was clean and bright. i was expecting something that felt a little more prison like.
i also got a lot of schoolwork done in the last two days, so that is good too.
We are looking at addiction and eating disorders. The research on teaching controlled drinking was very interesting to me. Though the text treats the topics of addiction and eating disorders as seperate, i think there is enough similarity there to consider teaching controlled drinking and controlled eating in the same way. i had to really dig to find anything that backed up my hunch. As it turns out, there is a similarity in a particular method of dealing with eating disorders, in which the parents step in and control all eating. Then they step down as the client takes back more control for themselves. i see the logic in this approach because, unfortunately, you can’t choose to abstain from eating. If i could take a pill and side step eating all together, i’d do that. i suspect many people with anorexia and bulimia nervosa would just be thrilled if they never had to deal with eating again. The newer research points to fasting for days after a binge, which made me frown a lot. After all of these years, it still can pop up. It is one area that i’m entirely capable of doing my own thing unless there is a specific directive. i can’t quite understand how that contolled eating things would work based off my own experiences and knowing people who had severe eating disorders. The only thing i can imagine is someone telling them what to eat met with a gigantic “fuck you.” Maybe not as directly from bulimics because they seem to be perfectionists who are people-pleasers. Reading about their traits, in fact, sounds like reading about the “ideal” submissive personality.
We say, “Fuck you” with oreo cookies, thank you very much. 😛
i tend to think of myself as not a terribly submissive person and dislike that label applied to me. i get a wake-up call though when i’m reading psychological texts and research because i’m sitting here thinking that all of those submissive traits mentioned apply strongly to me. Heh.
i think my objections to that label come from thinking that a “submissive” person can’t say no, or can’t deal with someone not liking them, and i don’t really care about those things on a personal level. That being said, if someone’s energy speaks to me, yeah…its true. i do feel bad when i mess things up.
Last night, when we were heading home, i sort of took off in the station. i was heading to the pole we always stop at and couldn’t hear Sir Raven calling me over the noise of another train coming (or going?) on the other platform. This is why i sort of inwardly giggle when people talk at length about how they go to great extremes to not look like what they are in public. We don’t have some kind of elaborate hand signals for, “hey woman! What in the world do you think you are doing walking off? Haven’t we already talked about this? Why are we needing to talk about this again?”
Though, you know, the elaborate hand signals for that message would likely be very conscise.
Do you think Sir Raven gives two damns about anyone happening to overhear this?
She does stop short of slapping my in public, which there have been two other occasions she would have done it, had i not sweetly reminded her that there are cameras everywhere and someone might called child protective services. i may have mentioned that child protective services would totally believe ME.
Last night, though, i was busy looking at my feet. There wasn’t actually some good answer to these questions of rhetoric and a bowed head confirmed this. After the second round of questioning, i attempted to answer but quickly reverted back to shoe-watching because there was clearly not a good answer.
i could feel her angry gaze boring into me and was glad, right that moment, that we were in public. i felt like the incredible shrinking woman as it was.
“Willfull,” she prounounced the word with disdain. i haven’t heard that word in months and it made me feel even smaller. My head bowed and shoulders sagging, she shephearded me onto the train. We spoke no more.
While i get the concept that people who are eavesdropping did not consent to seeing our relationship dynamic, this is New York. You hear all kinds of private things on any given day walking down the street. i’ve heard total strangers birthing stories, information about their gyn, their sexual habits, impotent rage about one’s mother’s. i figure if i happen to hear all that and not die from it, they can hear our conversations too without passing out or dying from it.
Is it obvious that was an M/s exchange? No.
Is it obvious that there is a power differential? Yes.
It’s obvious everywhere, to anyone paying any attention at all. We don’t go out of our way to put it in anyones face. Nor do we go out of our way to hide anything. i think when you are trying to hide something, it puts a neon light on you. People are sensing you are uncomfortable, are hiding something, and therefore pay closer attention. The reptilian brain is looking for signs that you are dangerous, because you are clearly putting a lot of effort into hiding something, right?
That is all have right now because this is jumbled enough as is. 🙂