The Invisibility of Being.

Throughout my life I've been pretty thin-skinned, listening to others tell me what I should/shouldn't be, what and how I should think, do, say, dream... developed into an art form for me that damn near reached "Spidey Power" status.  No, seriously.  I would take and wear whatever anyone projected upon me like a shiny pair of Jimmy Choo's.  And trust me when I say that two-sizes too small absolutely made a difference in how I felt and carried myself through life.

Barefoot is better.  Know what happens when you go barefoot the majority of the time?  The soles of your feet get pretty damn tough.  Having grown up poor I had only one pair of shoes (cheap) at a time and wasn't really allowed to wear them outside if I were just playing in the yard, etc.  They had to last until my mom decided we could afford more.  I think I had the toughest feet of anyone I've ever known because of this.  The only thing that really hurt me was if I stepped on glass (which I did a few times, once landing me in the ER to have the glass removed), and when that California asphalt and concrete got hot enough to fry an egg on.  Even so, over time walking barefoot didn't bother me one single bit.

But what about the INSIDE?  Oh, but that was a whole different story altogether.  I couldn't walk my way through through the pain to being 'thick-skinned' and pretty much felt the weight of anything and everything that was said to me.  Criticism became truth, a 'reality' handed to me that I willingly took.  My childhood experiences weren't filled with encouragement or praise nor even helpful criticism.  Indifference and criticism, and many times complete withdrawal of love and affection were the tools used to shape the person I would become.

I was to become the child who survived.

In adulthood, that small child I once was is alive, and though not well, that part of me is AWARE.  There is still a disconnection of who 'that little girl' was and who I am now, and I still see photos of when I was little and feel such pity for 'that little girl.'  Yes, I know it's me, of course.  But the disconnection is still there just the same.  I want SO much to apologize to her and say "I'm sorry I didn't protect you!"

I've accepted this disconnection as a part of who I am, but I don't like it one single bit.  C'est la vie.

I remain thin-skinned, but my reaction to criticism, disrespect, and so forth is very different now.  I've allowed history to repeat itself in relationships I've had, and the reality of this has unprecedented tenure, so it would seem.  It will be with me the rest of my life.  Okay.  I'll just have to work around that when possible, right?

So here I am all grown up and stuff.  I can make decisions, change my mind, and walk away from anyone or anything that threatens my happiness; such are the benefits of being an adult.  Right?  Well, not exactly.  At least not for me.  That subconscious, that inner child, the child I actually WAS at one time so long ago, well.. she has a mind of her own and remembers the pain, the isolation, the indifference, the coldness, the invisibility of being... well, me.

Such memories carry over for the long-haul and map the course of life in often undesirable ways.  But it doesn't always have to be like that.  I can do more to help myself in that respect.  And I do.

On bad days, of which I have far too many these days, that inner child is the one who suffers most.  Sure, I feel the physical pain, and I feel the isolation of my situation and all it invokes (depression, anxiety, etc).  But it's what happens INSIDE that changes my world, my life.  All I can do is anesthetize myself with too much coffee, reading, and way too much television.  My physical body simply refuses to allow much more these days.  That's okay, because eventually the AIH and the 'possible' Myositis, both autoimmune, is driving the bus now, and not even my inner child can rebel against that and affect change.

Sitting here in the quiet, drinking coffee, talking about things I've not talked with a single other human being about...well, but for one therapist for a very short time, I can definitely say I recognize my life as it was, and as it still is; The invisibility of being... me.

Getting My Attention

So, first of all, my blogs are about my life, my seeking to understand where I am and who I am in the midst of a few unpleasant truths.  Be it a past filled with abusive relationships, abuse of other kinds, living with and around controlling people, my health.. it's just me here trying to work things out in my mind, spirit, body, and my life as a whole.  Every now and then I'll indulge myself in other topics, but my goals are to REALLY work though some things that are, frankly, long overdue when it comes to 'dealing' and 'preparing' the broken, jagged pieces of who I am.

There will be times when I speak of things completely outside of myself, and when my focus is on me.. it's not because I WANT to be in that inward place so much.  Actually, where I want to be is healed enough on the inside, both physically and emotionally, that I can turn my attention further outward and away from that inner ground zero.  I'm not comfortable in this place and want a way out. THAT is why I talk about what I do and from a place that is centralized and within.  This is how I'm dealing.

And I make no apologies for how I choose to work through the matters that demand my attention.

Peace.  Joy.  Happiness.  Comfort from within.  Hope.  Freedom.  To have wings again... to live, to breathe freely, to seek more time in that outside world... I don't think my dreams or goals or wishes are that much different from others.  Correct me if I'm wrong here, but I think most of us would like those things I listed to be the foundation for everything else.

The more I find my health failing, the more I reach for what was, could be, and has been.  Why not return and see a better past and hope it can be again?  Why not remember when life was, while not easy, at least more like LIVING?  It only makes sense to me to make that a focus.

I've turned away from my own needs for so long that I was lost to everything completely outside of me.  I disconnected from my own personal truth, my dreams, even my own body, and I paid a terrible price for that, a debt I'm still paying as of today.  And all because my core belief hinged around making sure others had everything they needed first, that they were happy, and by God if I had to change who I was completely to make a loved-one happy, then by God I will do it!  What the hell was I thinking?  No!  That's NOT the way it's supposed to be, and yet I wasn't ever taught to take care of me.  Life was always centered around pleasing someone else.. all of the time... beginning with my mom.  This is repeated in nearly every relationship I've had.

I was told in a past relationship that I was self-centered.  Words like that hit me pretty hard and a reaction is always immediate.  Self-doubt steps in and takes over, pushing reason and logic aside to wither.  Having spent the better part of my life as a chronic people-pleaser, because God forbid I risk anyone's ire by disappointing them, I've attempted to 'reinvent' myself to a point where I've come dangerously close to losing who I am.  I know it's the inner machine working and grinding to reconcile this new and "selfish" idea that I should, you know, maybe start taking care of myself with being that person who was always, always putting everyone and everything else first.  And yet each and every time I try to do something for myself out of self-respect, logic and reason, I get a hard flash of guilt that makes me question why I would bother [doing anything for me].

Why I listened to anyone who didn't have my best interests in mind (to say the very least) is beyond me still.  If I ever finished the therapy I began at the end of the last relationship I probably wouldn't be wrestling with this right now.  I will say I learned much in the few short months I did see a therapist, one I was seeing because I DID recognize the damage that was done to me in the last relationship.  Beverly taught me a lot, and not just about myself but about the other person involved.  And I cried the day she told me, point blank, that I'd spent far too much time in my life focusing on the happiness and needs of others, and that it was time to accept that I needed TLC as well, especially from myself.  I had this sense of surrealism, and it was very strange to hear someone say those words to me in the way she did.

And yet I thought.... 'What's the catch'?

That's the real issue.  I don't trust easily now.  And I used to be a subscriber to complete and total blind trust.

No more.  I can have a healthy amount of trust without all the blindness, but it will take time.

And the guilt, the constant guilt whenever I speak about my problems here, whenever I do something positive or uplifting to my spirit, my soul, whenever I open up and speak from the heart about what's going on with me, my life.. that guilt cripples me, and the ugly voice of the past speaks up and tells me I'm selfish for doing anything at all to make my own life better.

...... more later.....