Thursday, May 17, 2007
Anaheim
After all the mental preparation for seeing Miss Piggy in Anaheim, I find I am still affected in ways beyond my control and it seriously hurts. My eyes were darting to and fro at the airport in Chicago, worried he'd be on my flight. When I arrived at the hotel I couldn't help but look about, and of course, there he was, in the hotel bar drinking and having a good time with TTC, CK, JD, and my old-new colleagues (well, with DW, since he can't stand MS). But my initial reaction (again) was immediate and physical - rapid heart beat, quick breathing, largely fight-or-flight, and painful. I thought about him last night, and now this morning. My challenge today is to remain centered, and remember to enjoy the conference and take care of myself while I am here. So what if he is in the room? So what if he is talking to people I want to talk to? And so what if I can't talk to them? It's not a huge deal - one conference is not going to determine anything important about my life, so if I don't get anything out of being here, that's ok too. There had to be a first time to see him, and this is it, and that's ok. If only I can hold onto that today and not break into tears....
Monday, May 14, 2007
Fear of Falling
I seem to be in rather high spirits today. I am definitely above my "normal" equilibrium point. This always scares me when I am aware of it because I am attached to the feeling and I don't want to drop. And since I know myself, I am afraid that I will fall pretty low. I have to remember to appreciate this while it lasts.
When I watched Spiderman 3 last Friday, the movie had an unusual effect on me. I don't usually become absorbed in the superhero films, and I have never wished for a superhero ability. But the way the camera followed Spiderman -- when he swings in the air by his web or when in the midst of falling he latches onto the sides of tall buildings or poles -- gave me this weird sense of security, especially when contrasted with the normal human fragility of the non-super characters. Like when MJ is hanging from a web at the top of a skyscraper, I actually felt some anxiety for her precarious situation, whereas with Spiderman, I never feel fear no matter how high up he is or how many stories down he might fall. And given my fear of heights (which I admit begrudgingly) and how heights are so important to the visuals in this film, I suddenly for the first time ever wished to have Spiderman's superpower. It was strange for me to notice that.
When I watched Spiderman 3 last Friday, the movie had an unusual effect on me. I don't usually become absorbed in the superhero films, and I have never wished for a superhero ability. But the way the camera followed Spiderman -- when he swings in the air by his web or when in the midst of falling he latches onto the sides of tall buildings or poles -- gave me this weird sense of security, especially when contrasted with the normal human fragility of the non-super characters. Like when MJ is hanging from a web at the top of a skyscraper, I actually felt some anxiety for her precarious situation, whereas with Spiderman, I never feel fear no matter how high up he is or how many stories down he might fall. And given my fear of heights (which I admit begrudgingly) and how heights are so important to the visuals in this film, I suddenly for the first time ever wished to have Spiderman's superpower. It was strange for me to notice that.
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Friday, May 4, 2007
Muppet Show
Miss Piggy asked if I want to have coffee at AAPOR. I am trying to resist acknowledging that he even sent me the email. But I want to write him the following:
I won't ever WANT to have coffee with you. The only thing I feel is an overwhelming urge to remind you what a stupid fucker you really are and to let other people know it. I'm still angry I'm the only one who does. When I think of how much I was thriving and making friends and enjoying my work and belonging to an organization I cared about, and of how I let myself be manipulated by you, the things I enjoyed and excelled at became a burden because of you, how you harassed me out my job, how so utterly isolated I became, and how I have to deal with the shit of picking up my life, moving elsewhere, not knowing a soul, starting a new job I'm not crazy about, investing every once of energy in starting over and establishing myself in a new place, about how generous I was (and still am) with you, down to the last minute I saw you before leaving... I still think daily about sending someone somewhere a letter about why I left. What can you possibly offer me over coffee?
I won't ever WANT to have coffee with you. The only thing I feel is an overwhelming urge to remind you what a stupid fucker you really are and to let other people know it. I'm still angry I'm the only one who does. When I think of how much I was thriving and making friends and enjoying my work and belonging to an organization I cared about, and of how I let myself be manipulated by you, the things I enjoyed and excelled at became a burden because of you, how you harassed me out my job, how so utterly isolated I became, and how I have to deal with the shit of picking up my life, moving elsewhere, not knowing a soul, starting a new job I'm not crazy about, investing every once of energy in starting over and establishing myself in a new place, about how generous I was (and still am) with you, down to the last minute I saw you before leaving... I still think daily about sending someone somewhere a letter about why I left. What can you possibly offer me over coffee?
Wednesday, May 2, 2007
Life Hurts
I talked to my mom tonight. I asked her how she is doing (besides the hassles of returning to the business after their vacation).... Now is my moment to have that conversation with my parents that has been hanging over my head for so long. It's an extended conversation that unfortunately can't be over with in one dose, so I'm still in the midst of it and surrounded by the fog of all that family turmoil. Hence my frequent incoherence.
When I refused my dad's gift on the phone, it didn't come out right. It wasn't a planned conversation, so a rush of words - many of them thoughtless - just came pouring out. When I spoke it was regarding my immediate (and not necessarily fair) reaction to how much he annoys me, not to the deeper issues. Today my mom said that what I had said was hurtful and though it's good I said howI feel, I was wrong about the things I had said.
Luckily today I was not bombarded with words or surprised by anyone's behavior so I could think clearly and my emotions, while strong, were calm. I told my mom that my problem is not (as they had heard it) that I feel unloved or that I don't get the attention I need or deserve or that I think they take no interest in my life. I know all those things are true. When I said there is no relationship, I meant that when all those overtures of love and affection are made towards me, it is I that doesn't give back and that it's for a reason. (It's hard not to weep when I write this because I know how hurtful it is...).
I first explained why I don't have positive feelings towards my dad (he was mean...) and I used a couple of stories to explain the context in which I interpreted my dad's most recent gift (a history of gifts given in a certain way and often after an argument). My mom was a bit defensive on his behalf, and mentioned how much he worked and didn't have a life and gave everything he had to support his family. I let her say it - it is true after all. I said that the feelings I have are the feelings I have and they are justified. I have a choice about how I behave and what I say and I can be held responsible for them. But my feelings are not entirely in my power. She said she understood that, and we as girls paid a price, and she paid a price (I think she meant paid a price for his behavior, and obliquely for her having chosen to stay with him). When I asked her what she meant about the price she paid, she said "in my health." It's very true that her health has suffered pretty directly as a result of her inability (and perhaps unwillingness?) to deal with difficulties, and in fact I think the price is greater than she is willing to admit. However, in retrospect it was also a guilt tactic. She also said that there were good times too and those seem to be entirely forgotten, and with a kind of resigned sigh she said that perhaps all kids have issues with their parents. I told her that was an unfair comment. This is not "issues" that all kids have. I didn't say he was abusive - I think that's too hard a word to use over the telephone - but I did say that he was mean, scary, and humiliating. And in fact she took offense to that word, as though I was being oversensitive.
She called me back a few minutes after we hung up to ask if she should or shouldn't say anything to my dad about what I had told her. I said that I think it is best if I tell him these things directly - it is only fair. But that if it would hurt and surprise less if he's prepared for it, then she can mention it. She said she probably will because he has no clue. This really surprises me! I thought he was aware of the horrible, awkward, clumsy, tense and uncomfortable silence that ensues whenever my mom leaves the room. And this is the part that is causing my self-doubt. If everything was fine, if he had no clue, and if my mom preferred it with all the dirt swept under the rug, then why do I have to say what I have to say and cause the both of them so much hurt? Why can't I just go on forever with this particular lie? It's not like they haven't suffered terribly in their lives.
I don't know where it goes from here. I can't really see where I'm going and am kind of scared of the next few conversations. For very brief moments, I can ALMOST imagine the release that may come in a while. I'm not quite there yet though, so I am still a bit incoherent and can't quite name all the things I am feeling. Or even recount things logically. But maybe... someday...
When I refused my dad's gift on the phone, it didn't come out right. It wasn't a planned conversation, so a rush of words - many of them thoughtless - just came pouring out. When I spoke it was regarding my immediate (and not necessarily fair) reaction to how much he annoys me, not to the deeper issues. Today my mom said that what I had said was hurtful and though it's good I said howI feel, I was wrong about the things I had said.
Luckily today I was not bombarded with words or surprised by anyone's behavior so I could think clearly and my emotions, while strong, were calm. I told my mom that my problem is not (as they had heard it) that I feel unloved or that I don't get the attention I need or deserve or that I think they take no interest in my life. I know all those things are true. When I said there is no relationship, I meant that when all those overtures of love and affection are made towards me, it is I that doesn't give back and that it's for a reason. (It's hard not to weep when I write this because I know how hurtful it is...).
I first explained why I don't have positive feelings towards my dad (he was mean...) and I used a couple of stories to explain the context in which I interpreted my dad's most recent gift (a history of gifts given in a certain way and often after an argument). My mom was a bit defensive on his behalf, and mentioned how much he worked and didn't have a life and gave everything he had to support his family. I let her say it - it is true after all. I said that the feelings I have are the feelings I have and they are justified. I have a choice about how I behave and what I say and I can be held responsible for them. But my feelings are not entirely in my power. She said she understood that, and we as girls paid a price, and she paid a price (I think she meant paid a price for his behavior, and obliquely for her having chosen to stay with him). When I asked her what she meant about the price she paid, she said "in my health." It's very true that her health has suffered pretty directly as a result of her inability (and perhaps unwillingness?) to deal with difficulties, and in fact I think the price is greater than she is willing to admit. However, in retrospect it was also a guilt tactic. She also said that there were good times too and those seem to be entirely forgotten, and with a kind of resigned sigh she said that perhaps all kids have issues with their parents. I told her that was an unfair comment. This is not "issues" that all kids have. I didn't say he was abusive - I think that's too hard a word to use over the telephone - but I did say that he was mean, scary, and humiliating. And in fact she took offense to that word, as though I was being oversensitive.
She called me back a few minutes after we hung up to ask if she should or shouldn't say anything to my dad about what I had told her. I said that I think it is best if I tell him these things directly - it is only fair. But that if it would hurt and surprise less if he's prepared for it, then she can mention it. She said she probably will because he has no clue. This really surprises me! I thought he was aware of the horrible, awkward, clumsy, tense and uncomfortable silence that ensues whenever my mom leaves the room. And this is the part that is causing my self-doubt. If everything was fine, if he had no clue, and if my mom preferred it with all the dirt swept under the rug, then why do I have to say what I have to say and cause the both of them so much hurt? Why can't I just go on forever with this particular lie? It's not like they haven't suffered terribly in their lives.
I don't know where it goes from here. I can't really see where I'm going and am kind of scared of the next few conversations. For very brief moments, I can ALMOST imagine the release that may come in a while. I'm not quite there yet though, so I am still a bit incoherent and can't quite name all the things I am feeling. Or even recount things logically. But maybe... someday...
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