Well, Wasn't That Fun
I don't know what it is with me and Sundays. Maybe I was just too tired to keep fighting. Maybe I finally felt like just maybe I wouldn't be alone. Whatever the cause may have been, I lost it at church today.
About as soon as the music started, I realized I needed to practice breathing. I was back on yack-alert, and the tension in my shoulders and lungs was building. I sat on the floor, closed my eyes, and poured myself into the 4-count. In-2-3-4. Hold-2-3-4. Out-2-3-4. It's hard to concentrate on breathing AND not throwing up simultaneously. So I went and sat in the bathroom for a little while. Curled up in the corner near the sinks so I had two walls to lean on. When I was calmed enough to leave, I went back in.
Then my shadow arrived. He's spent the last ten years believing I belong to him and trying to convince me of the same. I have spent the last ten years trying to make him understand that it simply isn't going to happen. Today, I just wanted him to go away, but I have yet to figure out how to accomplish that. Of course, by that time I was shaking, my hands and feet were tingling, and I had a headache. That panic attack that's been wanting to happen since Wednesday finally won. It took all I had left to not yell at him for insisting on sitting in my personal space.
It's odd. I really wanted someone to find me and be present. I wanted to be safe to fall apart and not be isolated. But not him. He would interpret it as something other than reality. I think I shoot myself in the foot, because it turns out he was the only person today who was present. But he's not safe. Not that he's dangerous or anything. He's just impossibly attached to me. So what do I do?
I went outside. Fresh air is good. I tried hard to breathe as I wandered around. Regaining some semblance of control, I decided to return to the sanctuary. Interesting word, sanctuary.
My church is a little weird sometimes. We're into random symbolism at times, and today was one of those days. Dr. Pastor was the speaker, and she talked about how people objectify each other. Specifically she focused on the fact that many men see women as "it(s)" and many women present themselves as "it(s)." At least, that's the part I heard, in between my wanderings and tuning out to breathe. So when I wandered back in that time, Shadow Boy was still there, and Big Brother Pastor had asked all the women to stand.
*Aside* I deeply dislike these exercises. I find myself not identifying with many groups, including and perhaps especially women in general. And on Mothers' Day, this is amplified for a variety of reasons. *And now back to our regularly scheduled programming*
Big Brother Pastor was talking briefly about how in society and even in the Church, women are not honored as they (we?) ought to be. He asked the men of the congregation to join him at the front, take a "jewel" (little plastic jewel, from what I saw later) and give it to a woman of the congregation as a symbol of honoring her as a sister in Christ.
At this point I came very close to losing my breakfast. First of all, I saw Shadow Boy get up, and I bolted. Back to hiding in the bathroom for me! There was NO WAY that was going to happen, and it would have had I stayed. Second, though the idea sounds nice, I, for reasons I can't say, simply could not handle the thought of being part of that.
During one of my several wanderings, Big Brother Pastor ran across me in the hall and caught on that all was not well with me. He had several points in the service that he was responsible for, though, so there wasn't really time to talk. Which was ok. I would have been ridiculously inarticulate at that point anyway. After service, he stopped to see me, but ended up pulled in about thirty different directions all at once, and it being Mothers' Day, it wasn't long before Dad was summoning me to head out.
Then there was the massive 12 person family Mothers' Day lunch, but there's not much to say about that except that it was nice to see my cousins.
I am so very glad this day is over.
About as soon as the music started, I realized I needed to practice breathing. I was back on yack-alert, and the tension in my shoulders and lungs was building. I sat on the floor, closed my eyes, and poured myself into the 4-count. In-2-3-4. Hold-2-3-4. Out-2-3-4. It's hard to concentrate on breathing AND not throwing up simultaneously. So I went and sat in the bathroom for a little while. Curled up in the corner near the sinks so I had two walls to lean on. When I was calmed enough to leave, I went back in.
Then my shadow arrived. He's spent the last ten years believing I belong to him and trying to convince me of the same. I have spent the last ten years trying to make him understand that it simply isn't going to happen. Today, I just wanted him to go away, but I have yet to figure out how to accomplish that. Of course, by that time I was shaking, my hands and feet were tingling, and I had a headache. That panic attack that's been wanting to happen since Wednesday finally won. It took all I had left to not yell at him for insisting on sitting in my personal space.
It's odd. I really wanted someone to find me and be present. I wanted to be safe to fall apart and not be isolated. But not him. He would interpret it as something other than reality. I think I shoot myself in the foot, because it turns out he was the only person today who was present. But he's not safe. Not that he's dangerous or anything. He's just impossibly attached to me. So what do I do?
I went outside. Fresh air is good. I tried hard to breathe as I wandered around. Regaining some semblance of control, I decided to return to the sanctuary. Interesting word, sanctuary.
My church is a little weird sometimes. We're into random symbolism at times, and today was one of those days. Dr. Pastor was the speaker, and she talked about how people objectify each other. Specifically she focused on the fact that many men see women as "it(s)" and many women present themselves as "it(s)." At least, that's the part I heard, in between my wanderings and tuning out to breathe. So when I wandered back in that time, Shadow Boy was still there, and Big Brother Pastor had asked all the women to stand.
*Aside* I deeply dislike these exercises. I find myself not identifying with many groups, including and perhaps especially women in general. And on Mothers' Day, this is amplified for a variety of reasons. *And now back to our regularly scheduled programming*
Big Brother Pastor was talking briefly about how in society and even in the Church, women are not honored as they (we?) ought to be. He asked the men of the congregation to join him at the front, take a "jewel" (little plastic jewel, from what I saw later) and give it to a woman of the congregation as a symbol of honoring her as a sister in Christ.
At this point I came very close to losing my breakfast. First of all, I saw Shadow Boy get up, and I bolted. Back to hiding in the bathroom for me! There was NO WAY that was going to happen, and it would have had I stayed. Second, though the idea sounds nice, I, for reasons I can't say, simply could not handle the thought of being part of that.
During one of my several wanderings, Big Brother Pastor ran across me in the hall and caught on that all was not well with me. He had several points in the service that he was responsible for, though, so there wasn't really time to talk. Which was ok. I would have been ridiculously inarticulate at that point anyway. After service, he stopped to see me, but ended up pulled in about thirty different directions all at once, and it being Mothers' Day, it wasn't long before Dad was summoning me to head out.
Then there was the massive 12 person family Mothers' Day lunch, but there's not much to say about that except that it was nice to see my cousins.
I am so very glad this day is over.
posted by The Other Gatekeeper at
9:22 PM
7 Comments:
One thing I realize about depression and poets is that both seem to come with a fair bit of perception. I wonder, as I read this, and having felt similar feelings in similar contexts, if you are dealing with a part of yourself that goes beyond yourself.
Spiritual awareness, tapping into that which is beyond our ken, can be rationalized and become self-directed. Because we all have issues, real and potent issues, we look at those as the source, putting the blame inwards rather than releasing those things and becoming able to be discerning about the whole context.
I wonder if you are, in fact, more aware than you realize, and feel more than most, leading in the present to being tossed around a fair bit emotionally. This isn't denying the real issues which counseling can address, I'm just wondering if there is an extra dimension with you, that if you can really tap into could help sharpen your perception and bring healing to your seared soul.
Just a thought on my part. But, my suspicion is you are a lot more charismatic than you've let yourself be, or had a context to be in.
I've had a love-hate relationship with Mothers Day and Church for years now.
First, there are almost always women in the congregation who wanted to be mothers, but are unable to conceive or are not married or for other reasons are not mothers. Okay, so the women who have children and love them get YET ANOTHER blessing while we heap a little extra grief on these women? It just seems insensitive as hell. It's like the woman who goes on and on and on about her perfect wedding and perfect husband, right in front of her friend who is not married, has no prospects, and SHE KNOWS is grieving. Only insensitive clods act in that way.
Second, IT'S NOT A CHRISTIAN HOLIDAY. This is not something we share with the greater community of Christ. So just how much time and energy are we going to give to it during worship? I say very little. It's worthy of a prayer, an inclusive prayer that includes all women who have nurtured and cared for children, whether they are biological mothers are not. It might be worthy of a mention in the announcements. But beyond that, let's let our families observe this day at home and in their own ways. At church, let's get on with the weekly business of worship.
That's how I handle it. No recognitions, flowers, jewels, whatever. That stuff seems tacky to me anyway.
Eh, it wasn't really the Mothers' Day thing that was getting to me. It was all the junk from work, and then the hovering Shadow. They were intent on recognizing every female in the building anyway, so it's not like it was exclusive.
Once, I was having a terrible day. I went to a meeting of sexual assault victim's advocates, of which I am one. There was a new guy. Just as I was finishing telling the person who recognized I was 'Way Out of the Ordinary Having a BAD Day' that 'yes, I was indeed', New Boy said, "Well, it could be worse. I just had a wreck and my car was totaled and Blah, Blah Blah." Knowing that this was just the peachy thing to say to someone who has just been raped, I said, "Oh, I am so glad you told me that. It makes me feel shitty for you and improves my mood so much. Let's all Practice for the victims we might have." (Uh, I have a problem with bluntness.)
SOOOOOOOO...I am gonna share with you that I had a splendid day. My ass scratchin', no balls, fuck everything up boss finally was convinced to quit. Immediately. I am gonna break off a piece of this day and roll it up and glue it with spit and send it to you with all the bits and bites in this response. Spidey, I love you. I don't know when and I don't know why, but you...me... yeah!
Holy CARP, i'm cracking up. Cynthia, you are frikkin hilarious.
I had a spledider day today than yesterday. We cleaned up all the residual germs from all that ass scratchin'.
u ok?
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