Precious and fragile things
Nov. 16th, 2014 22:19![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
torquill[formerly filtered to c]
Can't sleep, so I'm hoping downloading some stuff will let my brain spin down for a while.
There were a couple of major realizations that came from the night before last... Akien read a bit from "Illusions" (which I still need to pick up; I have a bad habit of reading only for escape), and then we talked for a while. I get some of my best insights when we're just lying together, comparing notes and talking about whatever comes up out of my soul-searching.
I had discovered while making love some minutes earlier that one way to approach a feeling of need I was having, while it was welling up and making my throat tight and my chest ache, was to consciously relax into it; I had hoped that that then I could unfreeze enough to articulate it. What actually happened, as it turned out, was that the huge sense of need dissolved, leaving behind something tiny and manageable (or nothing at all). I did it with fear, too, telling myself to let whatever was happening just happen, and trusting it would be all right. And it was.
So I told Akien about how it felt like the best thing I could do with fear, and need, and the sense I get of something impossible to articulate, was to just relax into it. He calls it allowing myself to have those feelings, rather than being in them... to me it feels like just getting rid of the ball of anxiety wrapped around the feeling, which is what magnifies it into something hard to manage. I applied it to a somewhat triggery situation, and it helped keep me grounded. (The next morning I applied it to a rather more triggery situation, one that stirs up associations with past sexual trauma, and it let me get through just fine. We may have drawn the fangs on at least some of my sexually traumatic memories, at the bare minimum.)
He emphasized that having these strong feelings was okay, nothing to worry about. In the past, having strong emotions said to me that I had a containment breach, that my control was slipping. That meant Something Was Wrong. I'm trying to reprogram that response.
It also means that I have a way to reduce some of the pain of my need, and manage my fear. That's a truly useful set of tools.
Something else he said to me made another radical readjustment... I can't recall exactly what it was, but it may have been a reference to vulnerability as a sign of strength, as applied to letting go of my grip on my emotions. I have built up an enormous amount of strength and resilience in my battles for self-mastery; I wished for it, and worked on it, to the point that I have confidence that I am strong enough to handle any challenge to my control. But what he said turned that on its head, and I suddenly realized that I have not only enough strength to maintain control, but enough strength to let go of it. The passage he had read earlier spoke to the idea that maybe, having learned to make machines that allowed us to fly, the next step for mankind was to discover that we can fly without them. Maybe I've become so strong that I no longer need the control -- I can fly without it.
That was tremendously liberating. I have such confidence in my strength that it feels like something I can rely on even on a leap into the unknown. It'll catch me if I fall. I no longer feel unprotected; I have my self-reliance around me, where it's always been, it just doesn't need to weigh me down.
Some of this is what I discussed with Wayne tonight, as we made several turns around the park and finally settled at a table in Peets when the rush passed. We talked about what had happened with me over the last several weeks, and where I was at, and where he was at. I asked him for help with a couple of specific rituals -- letting go of the people who had left me feeling unwanted, and changing the ending of the Honors English lunch scene which we never talk about. He admitted that it weighs on him, too, and seems willing to try to rewrite it; he's not really sure it would work, but I think it would do me an enormous amount of good even if it doesn't come off perfectly. And I think it would give him some relief too.
I asked him what he needs from me at this point, as he had given me some verbal cue that he was seeking help of his own, but when I asked he just said that what he needs is for me to be who I am. My efforts at redefining myself, and the person that he sees emerging from that, are inspiring and amazing to him. I told him that I'm perfectly willing to serve as a point of inspiration. He's going through his own headspace work, largely solo, so if my journey can help him with that, I'm glad.
He was amused when I related Matt's concept of the "self-development fractal", wherein as you explore and map and figure stuff out, each step reveals greater depth and complexity to the landscape than what you had expected... even in the stuff you thought you had already figured out. That phrase was a far more succinct summary than anything I could have come up with.
One thing that took me completely off-guard (in the middle of a sentence) was the music in Peet's. I'm always half-listening to music in the background, being as musically oriented as I am, and after about five notes I broke off what I was saying and just looked up. Wayne caught what I was doing and agreed that he hadn't heard this song in years... but I was caught up in a plunging sense of almost-dread and said, "I can't listen to this right now."
It was the first chords of "Precious".
Wayne gripped my hand, and I stayed, and I allowed myself to just fall to pieces for a couple of minutes. I'm so raw in all the places that song touches, I couldn't help it. I'm just glad I encountered it then, with such a supportive friend at my side, rather than in the grocery store or on hold. I seriously couldn't have managed to hold it together without hurting myself.
I sent him off after that, seriously late for dinner, with the promise that he would hunt for some weekend time in his schedule and let me know. He always says he wants more one-on-one time with me; as ever, I'll have to wait and see whether he actually creates it. The ball is in his court, and he knows it. Though he did say he's always there if I ask, and he is.
At least it managed to break my anger phase, where I was angry at everything and everyone, especially those associated with my current headspace renovation. As I told Akien later, I was even angry at him for giving me everything I had asked for. There's no rational basis for the anger, it's just all-encompassing rage at having to change and suffering the cost of it. I tend to just withdraw during the worst of it, because I don't like being angry, and I really don't like watching myself hurting people with snark and general spitefulness. It passed off surprisingly quickly this time; I had expected it to stick around for a few more days. It may come back later in the process.
In any case, I feel fit to be around people again, which is a relief. If I had to hazard a guess, I'd say the next phase will be one of overwhelmed panic, but I won't know until I see it.
Onward...
Can't sleep, so I'm hoping downloading some stuff will let my brain spin down for a while.
There were a couple of major realizations that came from the night before last... Akien read a bit from "Illusions" (which I still need to pick up; I have a bad habit of reading only for escape), and then we talked for a while. I get some of my best insights when we're just lying together, comparing notes and talking about whatever comes up out of my soul-searching.
I had discovered while making love some minutes earlier that one way to approach a feeling of need I was having, while it was welling up and making my throat tight and my chest ache, was to consciously relax into it; I had hoped that that then I could unfreeze enough to articulate it. What actually happened, as it turned out, was that the huge sense of need dissolved, leaving behind something tiny and manageable (or nothing at all). I did it with fear, too, telling myself to let whatever was happening just happen, and trusting it would be all right. And it was.
So I told Akien about how it felt like the best thing I could do with fear, and need, and the sense I get of something impossible to articulate, was to just relax into it. He calls it allowing myself to have those feelings, rather than being in them... to me it feels like just getting rid of the ball of anxiety wrapped around the feeling, which is what magnifies it into something hard to manage. I applied it to a somewhat triggery situation, and it helped keep me grounded. (The next morning I applied it to a rather more triggery situation, one that stirs up associations with past sexual trauma, and it let me get through just fine. We may have drawn the fangs on at least some of my sexually traumatic memories, at the bare minimum.)
He emphasized that having these strong feelings was okay, nothing to worry about. In the past, having strong emotions said to me that I had a containment breach, that my control was slipping. That meant Something Was Wrong. I'm trying to reprogram that response.
It also means that I have a way to reduce some of the pain of my need, and manage my fear. That's a truly useful set of tools.
Something else he said to me made another radical readjustment... I can't recall exactly what it was, but it may have been a reference to vulnerability as a sign of strength, as applied to letting go of my grip on my emotions. I have built up an enormous amount of strength and resilience in my battles for self-mastery; I wished for it, and worked on it, to the point that I have confidence that I am strong enough to handle any challenge to my control. But what he said turned that on its head, and I suddenly realized that I have not only enough strength to maintain control, but enough strength to let go of it. The passage he had read earlier spoke to the idea that maybe, having learned to make machines that allowed us to fly, the next step for mankind was to discover that we can fly without them. Maybe I've become so strong that I no longer need the control -- I can fly without it.
That was tremendously liberating. I have such confidence in my strength that it feels like something I can rely on even on a leap into the unknown. It'll catch me if I fall. I no longer feel unprotected; I have my self-reliance around me, where it's always been, it just doesn't need to weigh me down.
Some of this is what I discussed with Wayne tonight, as we made several turns around the park and finally settled at a table in Peets when the rush passed. We talked about what had happened with me over the last several weeks, and where I was at, and where he was at. I asked him for help with a couple of specific rituals -- letting go of the people who had left me feeling unwanted, and changing the ending of the Honors English lunch scene which we never talk about. He admitted that it weighs on him, too, and seems willing to try to rewrite it; he's not really sure it would work, but I think it would do me an enormous amount of good even if it doesn't come off perfectly. And I think it would give him some relief too.
I asked him what he needs from me at this point, as he had given me some verbal cue that he was seeking help of his own, but when I asked he just said that what he needs is for me to be who I am. My efforts at redefining myself, and the person that he sees emerging from that, are inspiring and amazing to him. I told him that I'm perfectly willing to serve as a point of inspiration. He's going through his own headspace work, largely solo, so if my journey can help him with that, I'm glad.
He was amused when I related Matt's concept of the "self-development fractal", wherein as you explore and map and figure stuff out, each step reveals greater depth and complexity to the landscape than what you had expected... even in the stuff you thought you had already figured out. That phrase was a far more succinct summary than anything I could have come up with.
One thing that took me completely off-guard (in the middle of a sentence) was the music in Peet's. I'm always half-listening to music in the background, being as musically oriented as I am, and after about five notes I broke off what I was saying and just looked up. Wayne caught what I was doing and agreed that he hadn't heard this song in years... but I was caught up in a plunging sense of almost-dread and said, "I can't listen to this right now."
It was the first chords of "Precious".
Wayne gripped my hand, and I stayed, and I allowed myself to just fall to pieces for a couple of minutes. I'm so raw in all the places that song touches, I couldn't help it. I'm just glad I encountered it then, with such a supportive friend at my side, rather than in the grocery store or on hold. I seriously couldn't have managed to hold it together without hurting myself.
I sent him off after that, seriously late for dinner, with the promise that he would hunt for some weekend time in his schedule and let me know. He always says he wants more one-on-one time with me; as ever, I'll have to wait and see whether he actually creates it. The ball is in his court, and he knows it. Though he did say he's always there if I ask, and he is.
At least it managed to break my anger phase, where I was angry at everything and everyone, especially those associated with my current headspace renovation. As I told Akien later, I was even angry at him for giving me everything I had asked for. There's no rational basis for the anger, it's just all-encompassing rage at having to change and suffering the cost of it. I tend to just withdraw during the worst of it, because I don't like being angry, and I really don't like watching myself hurting people with snark and general spitefulness. It passed off surprisingly quickly this time; I had expected it to stick around for a few more days. It may come back later in the process.
In any case, I feel fit to be around people again, which is a relief. If I had to hazard a guess, I'd say the next phase will be one of overwhelmed panic, but I won't know until I see it.
Onward...
no subject
Date: 2014-11-17 20:12 (UTC)