i’m dealing in the dark right now. that’s not to say i’m selling drugs. or that when i shuffle my hands i have all the lights out. no, i’m just coming face to face with some of my ‘evil twin’ issues.
we all have a darker side; a darker nature. it’s not always hard for me to look at, because i don’t mind having tattoos, fetishes, and an odd sense of art and beauty. but when my failures, short comings and neurosis are exposed to others without me INTENDING that to happen – well, that gets a little embarrassing.
i guess i’ve had OCD since i was little. second grade for sure. one year i kept a pumpkin in my room after Halloween, i guess because i liked his crooked grin. i’ve always liked Halloween the most (except for those few years in LA when i thought it might be more useful to pray for children being abducted and sacrificed in Satanic rituals rather than hand out sugary treats. hey, not all my personalities are completely rational). anyway, my little pumpkin grinned at me, with his crooked impish smile day after day. and then his smile got more impish and crooked, cause he started deteriorating.
i didn’t know anything about composting and biological decay, so one day i lifted his head up, to look inside. a head full of black, spider-webby growth looked up at me and made me crazy. dark ickies, growing right inside my room; creepy, stinky moss stuff sending pores of poison into my nostrils. OCD!!! i mean, there are many other reasons i am OCD, which might get covered later.
anyway, i’ve known i’m this way for a while, but i usually try to find jobs and situations that HELP me manage my condition. have a routine. work at the same desk. have a consistent schedule. but now – because of circumstances out of my control – i’m working in an environment that is forever changing and completely unpredictable. it is chaotic, busy, and rapid response is needed all the time. it’s not that i’m not smart enough to handle the pressure…i just have a way of doing things that minimizes my stress reactors and freak out responses. and i have no real set way of dealing with these things in my current position and situation, so my OCD becomes very apparent, even to those who don’t work with me.
this is embarrassing. i feel like an idiot when people notice and comment that i’m doing the same thing over again, or i got confused about what to do next because they messed up my piles of stuff. i feel exposed and naked when someone notices that i have re-packed a box of books and materials because i didn’t like the way they fit into the container, and i think i could get more in there if i rearranged things. and it’s really embarrassing when i freak out over something stupid and meaningless because i am tender, sensitive and uncertain about my lovability.
it’s embarrassing being me sometimes.
i mean, it’s wonderful and fascinating as well.
colorful and magical. it’s exhilarating, curious, fun, and
hmmmm…now, why was i embarrassed again?
i’m supposed to be working on my book today. for those of you who are frequent flyers here at accidental happiness airlines, you may recall that i am writing a book of memoirs. no? oh, well i did tell you, so you must have missed that blog. this was the weekend i intended to finish up the final editing; but life’s little lessons get in the way, and i see i must face some of my demons before i share them with the world.
Demon #1: Shyorcifel (also known as fear of intimacy)
i’ve been getting in touch with friends from my past, and i see that the vast majority of folk my age have spouses and children and homes. i began to scold myself today for not having a lover, and what is wrong with me, and all of that kind of thing. but i realized pretty quickly that the reason i am still single is that i never let anyone get close, and i never let men (or most of my friends for that matter) see the real me. it’s scary to think that you would hope in someone to love you on your worst day, with a big juicy zit on your nose, and no makeup on, walking around in yoga pants with holes in the ass, and then your supposed to trust that this person loves you when they’ve been around you at these times? when you’ve done something sinister or selfish? when you’ve told about your horrid past and how messed up you are? see, it’s easier to just never get to that level.
and that’s why i’m still single. so i have to wrestle with the intimacy demon and work out the kinks in my emotional vulnerability quotas.
Demon #2: Keeperoscipase (also known as Obssessive Hoarding)
ok, i’m not actually a hoarder. i lovingly refer to it as ‘being a Picker’. i collect. and while i love my books and papers and ephemera, my toys and clothes and crafts, i’m not going to be auditioning for “Hoarders” anytime soon. but – having watched my first episode today – i can see that i am made of the same fabric as these others. we are people who are afraid.
afraid of losing someone. afraid of letting go of the past. afraid of living in the now, and the uncertainties of life. afraid of forgetting something, or not having what we need, or throwing away something important or of value.
afraid of letting people in. afraid of looking deep inside. afraid of admitting we’ve been hurt, killed, beaten, worn down, abused, neglected and abandoned. afraid of being seen for what we are: weak, vulnerable, and hurting.
but hey! look at that. the entire human race is in this category. and while i might wash my hands too many times after tucking away another thirty copies of fiction titles i’ll never read, you might be socking down your thirteenth bottle of Labatts, or losing the use of your right arm due to a slip up with a bookie.
we’re all of us broken, wounded, beautiful creatures. and the fascinating part of life is watching each of us uncover the treasure beneath all the outer layerings of crap.