From The Desk of the Insufferable

When I hurt myself really badly, I pass out. It's happened several times in my life. A wave of nausea sweeps over me and and suddenly I wake up on the floor not knowing how much time has passed. 

Today, I twisted my shoulder, recognized the feeling and when I went down, I hit my head on my bathtub so hard I have given birth to a giant bump on my forehead that is probably going to grow a face at any moment. I woke up naked and dazed, crawled over to sit on the toilet and called Mike. Then, promptly passed out again as soon as he answered...ripping down the shower curtain. If you're going to do something, you really need to do it, I guess.

I staggered to bed and lay there for a minute talking and then I felt embarrassed about the whole thing. Not because I pass out when I feel extreme pain - that's just my body's way of dealing with it. But because here is yet another thing that requires telling people something unpleasant about myself that will require extra maintenance on both of our parts. I'm exhausting sometimes. 

I am wholly aware of what people think of me and what they tell me they think of me. Don Miguel Ruiz shares that we cannot make assumptions about anything. There are times that burning calories on this is fruitless and times when engaging with those that don't get you is worth the effort to let go.

A combination of my own innate anxiety,  my honed hyper-awareness and a wounded Root Chakra (the hippy shit is important sometimes) have left little room for people to lie and get away with it. Sometimes they think they do and it's wild to see them walk away with that smugness.

A few have and gotten away with it - at least, for a while. They become memories. 

There have been many instances in the last few months where I have tried to lean on colleagues, friends and family for support and to hash out those things that are difficult to navigate and understand. They really want to help. I think that the intention is there, but I push them too far on almost every occasion. Not because of who they are, but because of who I am. 

...a fortress deep and mighty...

I've painfully learned that people don't want to hash out every possible scenario and consequence of every option for a decision. They don't want to have to think about the deeper meaning of the decisions that others make that affect them. Most aren't interested in thinking about the future of the decisions that they make - especially on a much larger level. And I face all of these individuals that have this same exhausted response and then general lack of communication. I would be doing my therapist a disservice if I didn't turn the criticism and work inward to figure out how to function in this world. Sadly, these feelings are anxiety's derelict children, codependency's feckless lover, and experience's wounded animal. Gladly, they are my own fast and bright mind, my concern for the world, my deep sense of fairness and my drive to leave every place better than I found it. 

...as we boarded the Greyhound in Pittsburgh...

Finally, we are bombarded with the notion that we must love ourselves, care for ourselves, take time for ourselves but rarely is the support there to really understand ourselves outside of providing the Carte Blanche to enable ourselves to whatever end, indulgence or behavior we view as "self-care." I feel no sense of care greater than that of knowing that I've thought through everything - even if the consequence is the isolation.