from Sunday, May 01, 2005
You can't tell from my entries, but I'm trying to let the past go. This is my dumping ground. I've got to set this load down before it does any more damage to me. Have you heard the expression, "hurt in a moment, healed with time, scarred for life"? That is true for both body and mind.
They seem so petty, some of the things that I'm letting go of. (I can feel the "Proper English Police" writing me a ticket.)
When I was little, I tried to make sense out of things I didn't understand. Some of the answers didn't fall into place until I grew up; some are still a mystery.
Why did the Doberman always growl at us, we were just little kids looking for approval and love? Sure we played and got loud and rambunctious sometimes; WE WERE KIDS! He drank too much, still fond of the booze. The more he drank, the more annoying our presence became to him. I still become four years old if someone gets mad at me, when I haven't done anything wrong. I felt like I must have been a source of torment to the Doberman, just by the fact that I existed. If you saw his ears and scalp pull back you knew an attack was on it's way.
My siblings had the sense to keep out of his way and be quiet when he snarled. I, on the other hand, would sometimes try to return the growls. I figured if he was going to rip me to shreds, lets get it over with, now! I could hear my siblings yelling at me to shut up, I was just making him madder! He always won the growling matches.
He's an old dog now, but last time I saw him, after libations, he growled that we were all assholes. Wow! I had internalized that a long time ago; I believed it and knew it wasn't true, at the same time. Incongruity; try and figure out who you are in that kind of atmosphere.
I have had migraine headaches my whole life. Cigarette smoke, buss fumes, perfume, crying, stress.. trigger them. Our home and car were always filled with some of the above. Try to calm a baby like me with a cigarette in your mouth, it won't happen. I would feel so sick. I would beg to have a window opened and I would vomit, particularly on car and airplane rides, smoking was still allowed on planes back then and the windows on them don't open. My parents decided I had "motion sickness". I was told that I was a hypochondriac. My very real pain was dismissed as trying to get attention. My first therapist said, "What's wrong with giving a child attention? Isn't that what parents are supposed to be doing?" I'd really never thought of it that way, even though I tried to be compassionate with my own children, so they would grow up feeling that they had been heard, loved, and any invisible pain was taken seriously.
I gave birth naturally, meaning, without pain medication, to three children; so I can say for a fact that the cramps I had as a teenager, with my period, were worse. The cramps were like one horrible contraction that did not stop all day and into the night. This was pain that aspirin had no power to weaken. I guess it was another of those "character building experiences" to be made to go to school when I was in this condition. If I went to the school Nurse, my mother would not let her send me home. Give her some aspirin and send her back to class! I was never taken to a doctor for my cramps or migraines. I also had another invisible illness, Depression. I knew that something was wrong from an early age. I just felt awful so much of the time. Everyone else seemed happy more of the time than I did. At home a swift kick in the pants was suggested, but not delivered in that fashion. One parent said, "You think I don't feel like shit sometimes? You just do what you have to do, you can't curl up in a ball and feel sorry for yourself!"
When I was old enough to see a Doctor on my own, I got the "life's rough, Honey, get used to it!" speech. My next try to get help (I was fairly pretty back then and extra stupid) was met with the, "Yeah, I'd like to have your problems." speech. Then there was the doctor who decided that fondling my breasts and crotch must be done, by him, immediately. He was shaking and breathing funny during the exam - I was there to get a mole removed.
My broken "People Radar", was my faithful companion. I was nearly raped in Chapel Hill, NC. I was on campus, very "flower childy", peace, love your fellow travelers on this plane of existence, etc...I was on The University campus there, not as a student, just enjoying it's beauty and marveling at their lovely collection of trees.
A nicely dressed, polite, young man sitting on a bench says Hi, and we start up a conversation. He said he was a graduate student and teaching assistant and these responsibilities were causing lots of stress for him. I asked him if he had tried Yogic breathing; it has a relaxing effect. He said No, but , could I show him how to do it? Behind the bench were trees and shrubs, he suggested that I teach it to him, there. Sure. So I show him how to sit in the Lotus position, close his eyes, and begin to talk him through a relaxing technique. Before I knew what was happening, he was on top of me, one hand down my pants and the other grabbing my breasts! I freaked! I did NOT see that coming! I struggled to get away. I kept saying, over and over, "You do not want to do this! You don't want to do this!"
I got to a semi-standing position and he was still hanging onto one of my legs, but I was beginning to drag him out into the open away from the trees, and he let go. I RAN! When I got to a place of safety, I was having trouble wrapping my mind around what had just happened. He had seemed so nice before.
I thought about reporting it to the Police. I pondered that and decided that what they would do to a black man in the South, in the early 1970's, would be much worse than what he had done to me. It never occurred to me, then, that I may not have been his first or last try. I've always hoped he became a good person, as frightened by the incident as I was.
Any ability to trust people, that I had built for myself, suffered a huge blow that day.
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