I have had a blog post rambling around inside my brain for several days now. The only trouble is I’m not sure which Maggie it is actually about. No, I don’t mean in the multiple/DID way, but in the diametrically opposed beliefs of Maggie sort of way. How’s that for a sentence?! LOL
Dissociation to the point of multiplicity helped me survive for a long time. I don’t know if this is a result of that or just normal for people with depression. Who knows? I just know this is what is going on with me.
First, listen to this song
If you’ve heard it before you should still listen. It is a song I have recently dubbed Pop Gospel. It may already be a thing, I don’t know. But I call it that because I believe from it comes a message from God (the universe/love/Buddha/Allah/whatever you call it).
As you might imagine I do believe in the power of personal growth, change, and its ability to help heal the world, and ourselves. That is one of the reasons I share this song, because somewhere along the lines this song became a large part of who I am. Not specifically this song, I guess, but the message it represents. Change yourself, Change the world, Help the world, Help yourself. It is all wrapped up in there. It is as interesting a revelation as when I realized so much of my personality is pretty much a direct copy of Data from TNG. I haven’t done much changing recently. Well, I did quit the gluten. But after years of constantly working on myself and my health, this past year and a half or so hasn’t been about me, as much. It has been about me and Scott. Then, because of who I am, mostly about Scott. I love that man so much and want for him all the love and happiness he could ever get. I won’t go into his origin story because it is his to tell but it is as bleak as mine and he without the benefits or belief in therapy. Sometimes I think that my whole body will crack open with the amount of grief I feel for him.
Hell, for both of us.
That is the other part of what has been going on in my head these days. I am fucking bitter.
There really is no other word for it. I am angry about the damage done to me and to Scott and the effects it has had on us in the past, in our present, and our future. I WANT to believe it isn’t too late for anything. I want to believe it with everything in me but I don’t. I am not blaming my childhood in that I’m using it as an excuse to prevent forward momentum, because I think we can all agree that I’ve gone farther than I might have if that were the case. But it did permanent damage. Irreparable damage.
I have these weird goals in life. I mean it, they are weird.
- I want to completely smooth out a crumpled piece of aluminum foil without tearing it anywhere. So smooth you can’t tell it was ever crumpled.
- I also would like to completely straighten a paper clip so straight that you could never tell it was curved at all.
I’ve gotten close with these things but the foil is always thinner at the smoothed out crumpled parts and the paper clip has a few bumps that just won’t lie right, even using pliers. It was only recently that I realized the metaphoric meaning of these goals for me. Go Go Gadget Therapy!
This week I wrote about how when I was a little girl I would stare at the houses from the school bus and wonder if I could feign amnesia well enough that they would take me in and love me. I didn’t share it for attention so much as to share the thoughts in my head at that moment of my day.
I guess this is a little thematic but mostly stream of consciousness writing.
I believe in the power of compliments. The power of a single smile, the power of a kind word. These things that I’ve built into my life could end with me. The intended receiver could never think of it again or hell not even hear me. But sometimes I like to imagine that it sends ripples into the universe, ripples that may manifest a tsunami of change. Scott says that is fanciful thinking because I’ll never know or even be able to track it. I truly do believe I am meant to help manifest positive change in the lives of people I meet or pass on the street.
The problem with that mission is that I am so damned bitter.
I feel so stuck sometimes. Stuck being fat, stuck being that little girl who just wants to be loved. Stuck being afraid and hiding in my apartment.
My dad, my brother, and my nephew are coming into town at the end of the month. I haven’t seen my dad in 7 years or so. I haven’t spoken to him since just before Christmas. I no longer speak to my brother. Although I believe that not speaking to them or seeing them is for my own good it still hurts like hell. There will be a family picnic, where my dad will see his newest grandchild and the others he hasn’t seen in years. My siblings will hang out. Spend family time. All of that. I don’t want to go on an intellectual level. On an emotional level? It is hard to remember that I’m not the problem. Because clearly, they are all able to put on smiles and get along and if I’m not then I’m obviously the bad one. I KNOW this isn’t true. I do. It is hard to really grok it though. I’m sick of this, if you want to be honest. I WANT to be able to forgive and forget. I do.
A part of me hates myself for not being able to.
So on one hand, you’ve got the Maggie who believes in positive energy and love and things happening when they are meant to happen the way they are meant to happen. The Maggie able to believe that she is on the earth to help others, who believes she would actually be good at it.
Then you have the Maggie who is SO fucking bitter. SO stuck in that anger, that grief, that overwhelming unfairness of it all. I feel like I’m sinking in the swamp of sadness half the time.
Thing is, I’m running out of time. I don’t have the time to sink a while and get my bearings. I want things in this life that are quickly becoming less and less likely as time goes on. The ninja says the clock isn’t running out quite as quickly as I think but as someone who has always been acutely aware of her mortality that only recently (relatively speaking) stopped wanting to die, it seems that way. The ninja says I have to let myself grieve if I’m ever go get myself going in the right direction again.
I have to spend the rest of this month’s sessions planning for how I’m going to deal with the event at the end of the month. Then school starts again half way through the last week (and their visit) of May.
Honestly, sometimes I think the forces pulling against me on the inside will explode my body. The fear of everything, the belief in love and light in everything, the desire to be normal, the inability to be normal, wanting parents but knowing the toxicity of mine. I could go crazy just from the thought of it all. Not thought. Feeling? BEING. Yes, the being of it all sometimes feels like it is killing me.
But fear not readers (those of you who didn’t write this off as TL:DR) I am not giving up. I won’t explode or implode. Not on purpose anyway. This is all a part of the process and I just have to keep on breathing. I feel like I’m trying to take off in flight but I’m weighed down by lead weights others tell me I should be able to just let go of but that are permanently a part of my body they’ve been there so long.
Anyone know how to accomplish selective retrograde amnesia? Maybe one of those nice families will still take me in.
Keep Changing, Keep Growing,
Maggie the Bitter.
(I can’t seem to adequately express the bitterness I’m experiencing right now. Maybe if I write it in all caps? BITTER! No, not any better really. Though the rambling on for 5 pages has helped some. )