Before I start writing new posts, I want to share a few posts I wrote over at Fetlife while I was on my, very long blogging hiatus. The first one I would like to share, goes out to all of those who have a little/middle side. I think, in the time since I wrote this post, I've come a long way with it. I will also share the comments I received on it,for they were pretty enlightening.
I've been thinking about this topic since it happened again, in such a bad way the other night. Between the time of bike ride yesterday, and last night and today I have been trying to look inside of myself with a clear head -and answer the ongoing question of why I have this inner war inside of me of pushing away my little side.
It's a very conflicting feeling, knowing you not only want - but need something, that you continue to push away against and fight.
Is it to be defiant? Absolutely not. I am an imp in many ways, but defiant I usually am not.
With that being said - I will rewind a touch. That moment of being triggered, felt like a serious shut down inside of me. Like I was starting to disconnect myself from it again. Why I think this is happening, is the constant
stress and worry around me... about my Father and being still numb over my grandmothers death, being she was more like a mother to me than anything.. and of course dealing with the never ending family drama that everyone always
insists on trying to put me in the middle of. Even my mother, subconciously (I think) still does this to me.
Wait Moment of huge clarification just hit, in thinking about what I just wrote.. I almost deleted, and
started over, but I think it's important, so I am leaving that - and continuing with the revelation that was just revealed here.
I think while pondering all of this just now, I have had a huge eye opener on why this incident was such an extreme one on my end.... The sudden tears and refusing to put my binkie in my mouth.. then once in, only keeping
it there because I was told to do so. Then spitting out only moments after you fell asleep. I had this urge to throw all my stuffies across the room, and my binkie along with it.. but being all the stuffies that get a place on our bed have a special meaning and place to me, I didn't have the heart. So I lined them up neatly behind me, but for the first time in a very, very long time.. I did not sleep with any of them. I felt angry, and I couldn't stop crying. Which, I rarely cry up till this last Saturday night after the release session, and the new approach that was taken on that. The tight squeezes during, opened a flood gate.
The next morning, the feeling was no better. I pushed it away, like I normally try to do. But I had this very strong urge, to pack everything , and I mean everything, little related - and put them away in a box -if not throw them in the dumpster. I only did not, because I knew I would be in a world of trouble. And, matters were not helped, that via text, I kept defying when being told to get my binkie, and put it in my mouth.
I honestly, only did briefly, and it was quickly back out as I went about my day, with my guts turning and feeling very confused on my sudden, harsh reactions to all the little stuff. I felt, shut down inside with it. Disconnected, but angry and conflicted.
Now, after typing all of this, and my new eye opener.. I am realizing that it's not just the current very bad health state of my father that triggered me. Mothers day, triggered me. While it was a wonderful day, for special
reasons - once home, I got a voice-mail from my mom. It had guilt, in her passive way, all the way through the message. On, why have I not called yet, or texted, and her rambling passive way of doing things. I called her back, to explain I had not been home all day, but had a wonderful night before and day - and that I was planning on calling her in the evening once things were calmed down here for the night. I got her voice-mail, my guts turned, and I tried to put on that chipper tone and wish her a Happy Mothers day. She still has not called me back. So I know she has hurt feelings.
All my life, I have ran to take care of both my mother and father. At 7 even, searching to find my mothers whereabouts for many years when they were unknown. Taking care of my father always, in cooking, cleaning, ironing,
filling out bills, taking care of myself - the house.... him. Dealing with what is, and always be, two men in one.
One, a man with the sense of humor of someone like Chevy Chase, and the charm and wit of someone like Burt Reynolds back in the day. And the other, who had a violent, quick temper, and many issues.. and would lock himself away from us and the world for weeks or longer when things got very bad.
My Mother was here just recently also - so aside the voice-mail, we already have touched base some on the fact that her visiting us here was hard on me, being she took many trips down memory lane while we were out about in town. I was born here, and they lived here 'till things got so bad that she left. She showed me the houses we lived in, the first two... were just houses. Nothing special about them, so I let her go on her memory lane trip, and
listened. The last, as soon as I saw the house... I could see everything inside. The stairs, the furniture.. everything. Even the wallpaper. It was very surreal, looking at the outside of a house that you did not know you would remember, but you suddenly can see everything inside of it, or how it was.
She went on another trip down memory lane, this one being a bad one - and while I have heard bits of the details here and there of the event she was seeing in her own head, I suddenly could see it in my own. I was sitting on
the top of the stairs - looking through the iron bars of the stairwell. They were screaming - so loud it was almost a numbing kind of loud. I had a small blanket that I was chewing on, and watching them, unknown if they
even knew I was there, or cared. My Father had a gun to her head, and everything was so intense, the look in both of them - faces, eyes - I don't recall what was being yelled, just reactions, face expressions. I tried to snap
out of this quick, sudden visual I was having, as she continued to talk about she left and kept driving - she didn't mean to keep going but she did, and kept drinking along the way. She then went missing for the first time
in my life -(and most certainly, not the last) and was finally found way up in the mountains, where she almost was at the point of killing herself, and it was days later before she finally realized she needed to call someone. Meanwhile, no one knew where she was, alive, dead - etc. She was reliving that after horrors in her own head.
I have, since she has been here, been fighting those triggers and memories - along with all the very fresh, and present health issues with my Fathers heart.. and this voice-mail that day, seemed to be a trigger on top of others that just set me off here.
I think, on a very deep, and personal level, during my crying, anger, wtf moment there - is that the rejection was a regression. I was repeating what I know.. or knew.. regressing to a point to where it touched my subconscious... not rebelling, but regressing to what I knew at that age, and even younger when on the stairs, watching the screaming and gun.
I know I have made a lot of progress with things in my past - these actually being minor to a lot of other things that did happen.. but I think what I have touched on here, is the way I handled things at certain ages, and possibly regressing to them, rather the normal regression ways of running to a stuffed animal or binkie. I didn't have a lot of these things growing up, I had to grow up hard, fast and deal with a lot of things that most would never guess I'd been through in my life. While I want the things I missed, the stuffies and etc. I think I am fighting them, because they have never been something that was in my life for long. And one very key phrase that has stuck in my head today has been this...
If I allow myself to be a kid all will fall apart, that is what happened the first time so why should it be any different now? That is what my psyche is screaming at me. This is the key thing, that I need to work on... I think.