Wednesday, August 25, 2004

Maybe I Should Have Called 911

Raise your hand if you remember playing with your reflection in the christmas tree bulbs, or the spoon, or the crazy mirrored cover on the fish tank.

Right now I'm looking at myself in the lid of my thermal coffee cup. It makes me look like I have big Janet Reno Glasses and an extremely long proboscis where my nose should be.

I got a phone call from a friend the other night. It was a wonderful call, and I was happy to get it. She told me a beautiful story of hope and healing and of really good things happening and she called me because she knew I would know exactly why she was so excited and would get excited with her. And I did.

But also, uninvited tears started rolling down my face, some of what she told me about touched a spot in my heart that I try pretty hard to steer clear of unless there is an emotional MedEvac close by. Which there usually isn't.

In these cases I become like a child with child-needs and the tension becomes ten-fold when I'm not OK with that. So I'm trying to learn to cut myself some slack without completely unraveling and be a little bit less uncomfortable with the emotional clutter that gets strewn about during these times.

I don't completely understand stuff like this. Someone can ask me "What's going on?" And I can truthfully say "I'm not entirely sure." Cause I'm not. Exactly. And I don't have to be. Believe it or not, I'm trying to learn to wade through some of these things without analyzing them to death. Life is pretty good. I have adjusting going on but mostly things are groovy.

Probably it's an old wound unintentionally re opened, maybe it's a force field walked through, maybe the ionic field deflector is on the fritz again... I believe things happen on another plane that we can't see. Maybe it's like on The Matrix when someone gets beat up on the "other side" but back on the ship, where the physical body is, they still bleed. (to piggyback on JustPat's Matrix theme)
Dating God calls it a Cosmic Ass Whooping. I think she's on to something there.

I do know that trying to "just get over it" (or under it) isn't healthy for me. And I'm talking about it, which is also healthier for me than some of my old patterns. I'm fine describing an emotional event after it occurs and I have it all analyzed and outlined neatly. Because then I can still hide behind my neat little psychoanalysis of myself and come out looking pretty smart and together. (maybe it just looks more psychotic. I guess it depends on who I'm talking to) I'm much less inclined to talk about things as I'm going through them, especially when I don't have anything concrete to point to and say "there. That's what's wrong."

Meanwhile, I'm taking care of myself by playing with my reflection in the coffee cup lid and coping with the tension the best I know how. Taking my vitamins, calling friends, and asking for Backrubs from Amazing Man.


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