A Square Peg
1. My stupid therapist was making me write a BOOK about all the miserable details of my life. So I would do the assignments, take them to my appointments, share them with her, listen as she told me everything she thought and asked me "searching" questions, and then I would go home. At that point, I would think--why did I do that???? So now my counselor knows, but it's still secret. Nothing has changed. And part of me wanted to shout from the rooftops that I'd been horribly hurt, while the other part of me wanted to keep hiding. So decided that if I wrote everything anonymously, people would have the opportunity to know WHAT happened, without knowing WHO it happened to. And, amazingly, it helped. I'm not sure why...
2. Writing about my life made me look very carefully at myself. As a general statement, I rarely like what I see--but it IS who I am. I found different facets of myself emerging. Sometimes I caught a glimpse of something delicate and beautiful, and then it would go away, and I would wonder what it was. But if I went back and read what I wrote when that aspect of me was made manifest, sometimes I could bring it back, even if only momentarily. I wonder, sometimes, if beneath all the cynicism, there's a real person--hopeful, sweet, kind, maybe even a little bit romantic...I wonder who I might have become if my life had been different. It's a little confusing, but somehow wondrous to think about.
3. My interaction with youth has been difficult for me. Blogging introspection has helped me get past much that I fear, and actually develop friendships with these young men and women. I'm not sure how that works, I only know it does. But the bottom line is that I really haven't changed. I still yearn for solitude...and after about an hour with my new friends, I'm ready for a break. I'm exhausted after spending time with them. I'm filled with second-guessing, self-doubt, and questions. I spend some blog time exploring many of those things, but honestly, I'm not sure that it's always helpful.
4. I kind of hoped that somehow, I'd find someone like me out in bloggerland. I didn't. I joined a support group with the same hope, and I found some married female SSA members, but don't really know what to say to them. And this was kind of a stupid hope anyway, because on some levels, I still have difficulty relating to other women. No one who knows me would ever guess this, because I've grown adept at hiding my social discomfort, but there are few women I enjoy being around. So this was a stupid reason for starting this blog.
5. I also hoped I had something to share about being homosexual, overcoming abuse, living the Lord's way, and being married. But I think all that requires some sort of heroism--of which I have none. I'm the world's worst coward, especially when it comes to coping with things that stress me out or overwhelm me. And since I haven't really found anyone like me, I'm not sure that I have anything to say that would be of worth. Let's face it, there just aren't that many ardent (to borrow L's word) LDS homosexual wives/mothers--and how bizarre that must seem to anyone who reads it.
So in the midst of all this, somehow Elbow found me, introduced me around, and I found myself surrounded by some really amazing people, highly interesting to me. I found myself visiting and searching out more and more people with similarities to me--and yet, knowing all the time that we really aren't similar in the least. As time passes, the differences seem glaringly large, and I wonder what I'm doing here. I'm female. As has been pointed out to me more than once, there really is no similarity between female SSA and male SSA. They are absolutely different. We can't even relate on the same wavelength, and I really don't have any idea what I'm talking about when I comment on a man's blog. Kim is present, too, and naturally I have much to learn from her, but our backgrounds are different, as well. She understands female SSA from an adult's view--my experience is limited to a young teen viewpoint. Again, I really don't have any idea what I'm talking about if I comment on her blog.
I find myself falling in love with people I've never met, based on the words they say about themselves. Surely there's some Freudian complex related to what I've just said. I worry when they're sad, rejoice when good things happen to them, wonder if they're having a good day/week/month...I think there's something terribly odd about all this. I've discussed this with Janie, and she nods understandingly, but I know she has no idea what I'm talking about--and I'm quite certain she believes I'm losing my mind.
I had the opportunity this week to make personal contact with one of the men who visit my blog. This has thrown me into a bit of turmoil. I got off the phone with that person, and realized he was REAL. And I also realized that no matter how much I care about the people whose blogs I frequent--just as I care for the young men and women I work with--I can't seem to make myself fit. I'm a square peg in a round hole in bloggerland, in the church, in my family, in every aspect of my life. I always have been...and it didn't bother me until recently. David says I attract attention because I am absolutely unique--well, yeah!! isn't everyone??? I understand that he was nicely saying that I'm just a freak of nature, and people notice that I march to the beat of a different drummer wherever I go.
So I'm re-evaluating the usefulness of my blog in my life. I'm not sure that even the best reasons for it can justify it. I think I'm getting tired of telling the world, "Hey, I'm a homosexual, but not a REAL one. I'm a Mormon, but not a REAL one. I'm a wife and mother, but not a REAL one. I'm a woman, but I'll never be a REAL one. I don't fit in anywhere, I'm not sure I want to, and I'm tired of fighting my past, my eating disorder, my natural inclinations, and I think I need a break."
Actually, I am tired. Really tired. I feel like I've been trying to be Pollyanna, and it's a lot of work. I feel that the only reason I'm still alive and kicking is because Darrin is my guardian angel--I'm not strong enough to be that for myself. I feel that I'm a HUGE hypocrite telling anyone ANYTHING, when my life is anything but certain, and I have no wisdom to impart. All I can give them that is real and honest, is my love, and I often question the value of that.
I think I need a rest. L said that he'd know how I was doing because I can't resist telling the world. But I think it's time for some reticence. My life has been an open book for long enough, and I'm not sure that blogging is helping me anymore. So for all of you amazing people who have touched my life, offered help when I was sad--everyone I have fallen in love with--I leave this for you--do with it whatever you will:
"The best and most beautiful things in this world cannot be seen or even heard, but must be felt with the heart. " ~ by Helen Keller ~