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torquill[formerly filtered to c]
Much progress, but much still to come.
I'm starting to feel a little more comfortable around the house in general, though occasionally I still catch myself being a guest, rather than a new housemate who is simply unfamiliar with protocol. There's sort of a fine line between not wanting to step on existing methods by accident, and feeling like one has to tread lightly to minimize one's impact on the household.
After dinner last night, we all gathered for a group photo. Then I pulled out the harp and tuned it; midway through the process, Micheal came in to show me the work of the new bandsaw blade (very clean indeed). So I wasn't done when Akien came out to the living room again, and he started snuggling up to Diede while I finished talking to Micheal. I went on to complete my tuning (by ear; I didn't feel like pulling out my phone), and I realized as I started to play that I had a nasty creeping headspace coming on. Something that really didn't belong, but which was so strongly impressed on me in the past I wasn't able to counter it. Something that said I was being Left Out.
I've been in the position multiple times where someone(s) I liked and wanted preferred someone else, and -- either because we were part of a small social group or because I couldn't resist the urge to stay near them -- I would watch the object of my affections having a good time with someone else, while I did my own thing off to one side and pretended to enjoy it.
As Diede danced on Akien's lap where he was sitting on the floor, my ability to focus on the harp subsided into hurt, isolation, and a bit of jealousy. My intellectual self knew that the odds that I was actually being excluded were really very low, but that didn't dispel the feeling. What it did do was allow me to call to them and say that I needed help with changing a narrative.
They got up, and Akien asked for clarification. When I told him what was going on, he removed the harp from where it was lying on me, so that he could come in very close, and looked into my eyes as he said that my harp music was what they had been dancing to. From their point of view, I was absolutely part of their enjoyment, and very far from being excluded.
He sat on the floor again, then, and had me sit on his lap instead. He pulled Diede in to sit behind me, and the two of them held me for a while. He murmured things to me, enough that Diede picked up what was happening... she asked whether it was really so hard to accept being loved and included like that. (Diede is one of those people who gives out love like sunlight: free, without expectation, to everyone.) He explained that my history told me it was. She admitted that it was harder for her to receive than to give, but she cuddled up and said that she had absolutely been enjoying the harp music, and was happy I had been there.
I felt disoriented again, being pulled between my past and my present with no clear sense of self. Akien went searching for the stamp he had bought (he actually got an "Approved" stamp) and I... sort of went numb. I realized I was clutching when I felt compelled to arrange myself symmetrically; I ended up sitting on my heels with my palms on the floor, and it wasn't until my hands and legs and shoulders were completely symmetrical that I felt any measure of peace.
When my mental state is sufficiently disturbed, particularly if I feel like I have no control over events or I'm in constant emotional pain, I take refuge in compulsive behaviors. The most basic is that I tend to hang on tightly to whatever I have in my hands (when I know I'm doing poorly I will deliberately pick up a ball or a wadded sock just to have something to hold). That's why I refer to it as clutching. Other manifestations include rocking, curling into a tight ball, or things like the compulsion for a symmetric posture I had last night. Some way to impose control and order, or the illusion thereof, and an inability to let go of perceived stability.
It took a while to realize that I felt lost, though not alone, and to finally label my mental state as dissociation. I had so much dissonance between my model and what I was observing, and I lacked my usual reference points, that I simply withdrew into myself. I spent some time breathing, and relaxing, and prepping myself to come out of it. Once I did, I felt better, though there was still a little seed of disorientation, like a missing tread on a staircase.
Akien and I snuggled before bed; he had read to me, and I to him, before he went to get Leah that evening. So we just talked, until it was time to get ready for sleep.
He slept easily. I started to drift off and jolted awake, convinced (perhaps for the first time in my life) that if I surrendered my consciousness I would never wake again. I have rarely had a fear of unconsciousness, only experiencing it when falling asleep felt like the floating muzziness of being drugged, but I was terrified of what lay on the other side of that curtain. Akien was holding me, and I could feel him drifting off -- it always gives me the impression of something constantly in motion slowing, coasting, then finally settling into stillness. He still feels present, just stopped, unlike the faraway absence of Greg when he sleeps.
Since I could feel him falling asleep, I gripped my trust and told myself to follow, because if he was going too it would be all right. These are the discussions one has with one's emotions late at night. And I did fall asleep at last.
I woke around 5:30 when the dark kernel of disorientation unfolded again. I was afraid, lost again, unsure of what to do. I had the urge to go out to the living room to try to work through it, as I was shivering hard enough that I was afraid I'd disturb Akien. I found I really didn't want to wake him, but I had been told firmly that I shouldn't remove myself when I'm in distress, so I stayed. And shivered quietly to myself, and tried to reconcile the noise in my head. I shouldn't wake him, cutting his sleep short would be a problem and I didn't want to be a problem to anyone, I should cope with it myself... except that it wasn't working because my other half knew he would want to be woken, and I couldn't cope, and I had been told over and over again that my needs were worth as much as theirs and I had to express them.
I curled into a ball, caught in stalemate, until Akien woke on his own at 6 and asked what was wrong. By then I was completely speechless. Drowsy, he held me as I cried, until I could choke out enough to make it clear what was going on. He thanked me for not leaving, and said he didn't mind waking up for this.
When I managed to tell him that I was still very much afraid that he resented me for disturbing him, he actually laughed briefly. That made more of an impression than his heartfelt statement that he did not resent me at all, for any of it. This sort of aid is his calling -- so I had essentially woken him early with an opportunity to do what he loves. While I understand it in that context, it's still hard to counter the Don't Want To Be A Bother story. I also explained that I have had so many people bury their resentment, with no sign until it finally explodes and destroys the relationship, that I couldn't take his promise at face value. I will try to work on that perception, along with all the rest, but it's hard when other people have so successfully hidden resentment from me.
I discovered, in all of this, why the disaster of my Master's program hurt so much. My PI did exactly that -- harbored issues and resentments, past several opportunities to air them, until he finally called me on the carpet and took me apart, with no option to compromise. That's why I felt so betrayed by the whole thing, because it followed the same damn pattern.
(My mind has utterly blocked out his name. I didn't realize that until I tried to recall it this morning. I've been nudging it all day, trying to remember, but other than "it's Indian" I can't get anything. I can look it up, of course, but it seems telling that the trauma was so severe that I blanked out a name I associated with daily for nearly a year.)
Akien played the Blossom meditation that he wrote years ago, a guided meditation meant to summon one's wiser future self to assist with the current journey. I got through most of it, but when I was instructed to allow that self to blossom and fill me, the attempt simply illuminated my dogged determination to cling to the struts and bars of my old model, and my terror at the prospect of letting go of it. I found a small space for my future self, so that I could at least have a part of me capable of perspective and forgiveness, but the main product of the exercise was that flash of illumination.
I still have a long way to go.
Leah came in to cuddle, and we snuggled together, and made love together, and finally got up. I showered with Akien, then didn't feel like getting dressed, so I pulled on a bathrobe and played the harp half-naked. When Akien came out after the second half of his shower (with Leah) he had to take a picture of my naked thighs gripping the harp between them as I played.
He ran to the store, and we puttered. The other ladies woke Micheal a bit late, so the usual Saturday group sex would have run up against Akien's work meeting, and it was put off. Akien himself was feeling anxious, whether because of a new supplement or other factors it was hard to tell; I helped soothe him until he had something to eat, which helped. He then went on to adjust my back, which left me very shaky emotionally... I get into a state where each further kindness just puts me more off-balance. After a little discussion, I recalled that trance music is my usual tranquilizer of choice; Akien demonstrated that they actually have a woofer in the living room, and put on one of the Geoff Ledak sets I gave him while he copied more of them to an old phone he had on hand. (I shouldn't have left my MP3 player at home.)
Even listening to the music, I was still restless. He finally gave the phone to me with a set of earphones, and I headed outside to do weeding. It's mindless repetitive work, and it would give the music a chance to calm me down. At least the rain had stopped.
As I knelt barefoot on the wet concrete, pulling handfuls of pigweed and four-o-clocks, I relaxed, and my mood came back up again. When I came inside to deliver another passionfruit, I reported my finding that it wasn't the music I had needed, not primarily. It was the time alone that was unknotting things.
Apparently, being part of a close and loving family group does not mean I can hand in my Introvert card. I had not been alone, except to pee, since I arrived the previous afternoon... and I had been through a lot of psychological stress. I needed recharge time. That didn't mean sitting apart in the living room while others did their own thing -- it meant alone time. I felt a huge amount of relief just kneeling out there on the driveway without another person in sight.
I did some more weeding, then I spent a bit of time taking in the fruit trees (the Russian track I like so much had come on). I came inside for a brief shower, chiefly to wash my feet. I found Akien in bed at the end of a failed nap attempt, and snuggled up to him for a few minutes before the conference call the meeting had turned into.
I cooked some food and ate while he was handling that; Leah took a segment of the last apple I could find on the tree (at least until I find another one). After some more puttering, I grabbed him for some lovemaking before we would have to consider dinner. He actually broke my nervous system, and I had to ask him to stop. It took a while for the twitching to subside.
I watched him and Leah cook, and tried to keep Sushi out from underfoot. Dinner and television and cuddling, before I finally had to go home. I have work in the morning.
Much progress, but much still to come.
I'm starting to feel a little more comfortable around the house in general, though occasionally I still catch myself being a guest, rather than a new housemate who is simply unfamiliar with protocol. There's sort of a fine line between not wanting to step on existing methods by accident, and feeling like one has to tread lightly to minimize one's impact on the household.
After dinner last night, we all gathered for a group photo. Then I pulled out the harp and tuned it; midway through the process, Micheal came in to show me the work of the new bandsaw blade (very clean indeed). So I wasn't done when Akien came out to the living room again, and he started snuggling up to Diede while I finished talking to Micheal. I went on to complete my tuning (by ear; I didn't feel like pulling out my phone), and I realized as I started to play that I had a nasty creeping headspace coming on. Something that really didn't belong, but which was so strongly impressed on me in the past I wasn't able to counter it. Something that said I was being Left Out.
I've been in the position multiple times where someone(s) I liked and wanted preferred someone else, and -- either because we were part of a small social group or because I couldn't resist the urge to stay near them -- I would watch the object of my affections having a good time with someone else, while I did my own thing off to one side and pretended to enjoy it.
As Diede danced on Akien's lap where he was sitting on the floor, my ability to focus on the harp subsided into hurt, isolation, and a bit of jealousy. My intellectual self knew that the odds that I was actually being excluded were really very low, but that didn't dispel the feeling. What it did do was allow me to call to them and say that I needed help with changing a narrative.
They got up, and Akien asked for clarification. When I told him what was going on, he removed the harp from where it was lying on me, so that he could come in very close, and looked into my eyes as he said that my harp music was what they had been dancing to. From their point of view, I was absolutely part of their enjoyment, and very far from being excluded.
He sat on the floor again, then, and had me sit on his lap instead. He pulled Diede in to sit behind me, and the two of them held me for a while. He murmured things to me, enough that Diede picked up what was happening... she asked whether it was really so hard to accept being loved and included like that. (Diede is one of those people who gives out love like sunlight: free, without expectation, to everyone.) He explained that my history told me it was. She admitted that it was harder for her to receive than to give, but she cuddled up and said that she had absolutely been enjoying the harp music, and was happy I had been there.
I felt disoriented again, being pulled between my past and my present with no clear sense of self. Akien went searching for the stamp he had bought (he actually got an "Approved" stamp) and I... sort of went numb. I realized I was clutching when I felt compelled to arrange myself symmetrically; I ended up sitting on my heels with my palms on the floor, and it wasn't until my hands and legs and shoulders were completely symmetrical that I felt any measure of peace.
When my mental state is sufficiently disturbed, particularly if I feel like I have no control over events or I'm in constant emotional pain, I take refuge in compulsive behaviors. The most basic is that I tend to hang on tightly to whatever I have in my hands (when I know I'm doing poorly I will deliberately pick up a ball or a wadded sock just to have something to hold). That's why I refer to it as clutching. Other manifestations include rocking, curling into a tight ball, or things like the compulsion for a symmetric posture I had last night. Some way to impose control and order, or the illusion thereof, and an inability to let go of perceived stability.
It took a while to realize that I felt lost, though not alone, and to finally label my mental state as dissociation. I had so much dissonance between my model and what I was observing, and I lacked my usual reference points, that I simply withdrew into myself. I spent some time breathing, and relaxing, and prepping myself to come out of it. Once I did, I felt better, though there was still a little seed of disorientation, like a missing tread on a staircase.
Akien and I snuggled before bed; he had read to me, and I to him, before he went to get Leah that evening. So we just talked, until it was time to get ready for sleep.
He slept easily. I started to drift off and jolted awake, convinced (perhaps for the first time in my life) that if I surrendered my consciousness I would never wake again. I have rarely had a fear of unconsciousness, only experiencing it when falling asleep felt like the floating muzziness of being drugged, but I was terrified of what lay on the other side of that curtain. Akien was holding me, and I could feel him drifting off -- it always gives me the impression of something constantly in motion slowing, coasting, then finally settling into stillness. He still feels present, just stopped, unlike the faraway absence of Greg when he sleeps.
Since I could feel him falling asleep, I gripped my trust and told myself to follow, because if he was going too it would be all right. These are the discussions one has with one's emotions late at night. And I did fall asleep at last.
I woke around 5:30 when the dark kernel of disorientation unfolded again. I was afraid, lost again, unsure of what to do. I had the urge to go out to the living room to try to work through it, as I was shivering hard enough that I was afraid I'd disturb Akien. I found I really didn't want to wake him, but I had been told firmly that I shouldn't remove myself when I'm in distress, so I stayed. And shivered quietly to myself, and tried to reconcile the noise in my head. I shouldn't wake him, cutting his sleep short would be a problem and I didn't want to be a problem to anyone, I should cope with it myself... except that it wasn't working because my other half knew he would want to be woken, and I couldn't cope, and I had been told over and over again that my needs were worth as much as theirs and I had to express them.
I curled into a ball, caught in stalemate, until Akien woke on his own at 6 and asked what was wrong. By then I was completely speechless. Drowsy, he held me as I cried, until I could choke out enough to make it clear what was going on. He thanked me for not leaving, and said he didn't mind waking up for this.
When I managed to tell him that I was still very much afraid that he resented me for disturbing him, he actually laughed briefly. That made more of an impression than his heartfelt statement that he did not resent me at all, for any of it. This sort of aid is his calling -- so I had essentially woken him early with an opportunity to do what he loves. While I understand it in that context, it's still hard to counter the Don't Want To Be A Bother story. I also explained that I have had so many people bury their resentment, with no sign until it finally explodes and destroys the relationship, that I couldn't take his promise at face value. I will try to work on that perception, along with all the rest, but it's hard when other people have so successfully hidden resentment from me.
I discovered, in all of this, why the disaster of my Master's program hurt so much. My PI did exactly that -- harbored issues and resentments, past several opportunities to air them, until he finally called me on the carpet and took me apart, with no option to compromise. That's why I felt so betrayed by the whole thing, because it followed the same damn pattern.
(My mind has utterly blocked out his name. I didn't realize that until I tried to recall it this morning. I've been nudging it all day, trying to remember, but other than "it's Indian" I can't get anything. I can look it up, of course, but it seems telling that the trauma was so severe that I blanked out a name I associated with daily for nearly a year.)
Akien played the Blossom meditation that he wrote years ago, a guided meditation meant to summon one's wiser future self to assist with the current journey. I got through most of it, but when I was instructed to allow that self to blossom and fill me, the attempt simply illuminated my dogged determination to cling to the struts and bars of my old model, and my terror at the prospect of letting go of it. I found a small space for my future self, so that I could at least have a part of me capable of perspective and forgiveness, but the main product of the exercise was that flash of illumination.
I still have a long way to go.
Leah came in to cuddle, and we snuggled together, and made love together, and finally got up. I showered with Akien, then didn't feel like getting dressed, so I pulled on a bathrobe and played the harp half-naked. When Akien came out after the second half of his shower (with Leah) he had to take a picture of my naked thighs gripping the harp between them as I played.
He ran to the store, and we puttered. The other ladies woke Micheal a bit late, so the usual Saturday group sex would have run up against Akien's work meeting, and it was put off. Akien himself was feeling anxious, whether because of a new supplement or other factors it was hard to tell; I helped soothe him until he had something to eat, which helped. He then went on to adjust my back, which left me very shaky emotionally... I get into a state where each further kindness just puts me more off-balance. After a little discussion, I recalled that trance music is my usual tranquilizer of choice; Akien demonstrated that they actually have a woofer in the living room, and put on one of the Geoff Ledak sets I gave him while he copied more of them to an old phone he had on hand. (I shouldn't have left my MP3 player at home.)
Even listening to the music, I was still restless. He finally gave the phone to me with a set of earphones, and I headed outside to do weeding. It's mindless repetitive work, and it would give the music a chance to calm me down. At least the rain had stopped.
As I knelt barefoot on the wet concrete, pulling handfuls of pigweed and four-o-clocks, I relaxed, and my mood came back up again. When I came inside to deliver another passionfruit, I reported my finding that it wasn't the music I had needed, not primarily. It was the time alone that was unknotting things.
Apparently, being part of a close and loving family group does not mean I can hand in my Introvert card. I had not been alone, except to pee, since I arrived the previous afternoon... and I had been through a lot of psychological stress. I needed recharge time. That didn't mean sitting apart in the living room while others did their own thing -- it meant alone time. I felt a huge amount of relief just kneeling out there on the driveway without another person in sight.
I did some more weeding, then I spent a bit of time taking in the fruit trees (the Russian track I like so much had come on). I came inside for a brief shower, chiefly to wash my feet. I found Akien in bed at the end of a failed nap attempt, and snuggled up to him for a few minutes before the conference call the meeting had turned into.
I cooked some food and ate while he was handling that; Leah took a segment of the last apple I could find on the tree (at least until I find another one). After some more puttering, I grabbed him for some lovemaking before we would have to consider dinner. He actually broke my nervous system, and I had to ask him to stop. It took a while for the twitching to subside.
I watched him and Leah cook, and tried to keep Sushi out from underfoot. Dinner and television and cuddling, before I finally had to go home. I have work in the morning.
no subject
Date: 2014-11-23 21:56 (UTC)