So, have been going through a very dark time but after therapy yesterday realized that of course it's feelings from when I was very little and could not afford to have those feelings. They manifest in me today as being 'beyond help' but of course this is indeed how I was a little girl and infant 'beyond help' - because no one was there to help, no one could even if they wanted to as they did not have the capacity - both my parents being alcoholics and quite young and no one else knowing what to do or trying to do things they thought were right only making it worse.
My step-father, later on, was sexually abusive and we were stuck in rural Maine moving all over the place, moving targets, left-wing, righteous, etc. I was 3-6 years old and helpless...not 'powerless' but actually helpless and my higher power, whatever s/he is couldn't help me either. I was truly alone. This is the feeling I've been having recently in a 47 year old body, which is mighty uncomfortable and manifests in fun ideas such as 'you're such a failure' and other such constructive thoughts and feelings. The feeling sense is being in a fog, with no ground or horizon and yet quite heavy and leaden...an oppressive fog - which is of course not dissimilar from London weather, so at least I can feel at one with nature as it were.
I am writing all this now in hopes it can help someone else going through a similar time because I know when I'm in the middle of it, it just feels horrendous and very real (the feelings are real of course, but the reality field is a bit wonky in terms of age and circumstance) and I felt at times these past couple of weeks that it would never pass. I am apt to fall into it again as it's obviously some necessary part of the healing process but just Knowing it's that already lightens the load considerably.
I have not gone into workaholism, which blows my mind. I am going about basic tasks and am now back to eating OK. I was eating not so well for a bit but that seems to have passed. For now.
I have been rejected for two residencies, but for one was at least encouraged to apply again next year, so will take that as a good thing. The other was the generic kiss off.
Will be teaching my workshop at a conference tomorrow that I've been asked to contribute to, so that is a good thing. Paid as well. Hurray.
The other good news about the residency rejections is that I will be able, in theory anyway, to spend more time with my husband, who is now away until April. I say in theory because there is every chance he'll keep having to travel, but at least this way there is a chance.
It's raining out but I feel so profoundly relieved to have some sense of what's going on with me, that's OK too...and it gives me a good excuse to sit inside, enjoy the well-heated cozy little place I live and count my blessings, starting with: at least I don't live in Japan right now.
Blessings to all and courage, too, to walk through the darkness. It does make us stronger. My analogy right now is that Downton Abbey (yes I watched it, I confess - my neighbors gave me the DVD, that's my excuse...) where the sober drunk valet throws away this horrendous contraption he's had on his leg to attempt to make it straighten. He hides the pain until the head housekeeper forces him to show her his leg, which is bloody and blistering from the screws of this metal cage. It's her compassionate witness and horror at his pain that allows him to throw it in the river and begin the process of accepting himself as he is.
So that is another wish for all of us: compassionate witnesses who help us shuck off false attempts to fix ourselves in the image of so-called 'normal' brought to us by either local or transnational ideas, sponsored by Pepsi or provincialism...throw off the horrendous metal contraptions! All we have to lose are our chronic wounds.
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