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Minor Rebellion # 5: ‘children playing’

this kid doesn't look all that slow to me...

The end of summer is drawing near, and while the sky is a beautiful clear blue, I have selected a short sleeved sweatshirt top and shorts for my outfitting.  Despite what people think of Southern California, there is fog in the morning, bursts of rain in the fall, and an occassional blustery wind sweeping through from a blazing forest fire somewhere in the hills.  It’s best to be prepared for sudden chills at the beginning of fall.

Plus, the area I am playing in today is shady with trees and the sun hasn’t found its way in through the foliage cover.  But that is fine with me.  I’m feeling a little secretive today anyway.  My friend – Mary – has asked me over for a long last day of freedom before our new school year begins, and we have to start worrying about geography, vocabulary and math issues.  And so, having dined on egg-salad sandwiches and lemonade, we now find ourselves lumbering around the street a few blocks from Mary’s house.

The street is quiet.

Must be all the old people are still at work.

Mary and I sit on the sidewalk and talk about important, life changing issues, like that cute boy Paul Mayasich, whom I am almost in love with.  We find sticks to fling at the bushes and make kazoos out of blades of grass.  The thrilling days of summer wind to an end and we are solemn in our longing for more vacation time.  Suddenly I am struck with a lightning bolt of brilliance, convinced I have found a way to give us both that last boost of adrenaline we will desperately need to start another boring, confining and exhausting school year.

I lead Mary to the middle of the road and sit with her in the street.  It’s a residential street, not a busy highway.  There aren’t six lanes of traffic, or even a Tastee-Freeze at the corner.  It’s just a neighborhood block.  Still, cars come down the street, drivers eager to reach their homes after a long and annoying work day.  But before they arrive home for the night, they encounter us, sitting Indian style in the shade of the trees.

It takes them a minute to notice us…they weren’t really expecting anything out of the ordinary, and we are in the shade after all.  They slow down, of course, these aren’t homicidal maniacs here – just average working class folk, on their way home and irritated at two stupid children playing in the middle of the street.  But they slow down, instead of mowing us over, and honk their horns with a stern, scolding look that tells me they have children of their own.

Slowly, with great effort and much drama, Mary and I get up off the asphalt.  We look them dead in the eyes.  We let our jaws drop slack, and roll our eyes in the back of our heads.  We flail our arms and make strange gargling noises, heads lolling around like they are not at all attached in any way.  We lumber toward the cars with our outstretched arms, our intentions unclear, but perhaps an afternoon snack is on the agenda.

And one after the other, each driver looks at us with wide, unbelieving eyes.  You might think they are just shaking their heads, rolling their eyes because we are stupid kids being stupid kids.  Personally, I think they are fear stricken and headed home in terror, because they have quietly wet themselves in the car.  Another successful Zombie attack to write down in my diary…

zombified

i’m a zombie today.

not because i had something strange and wiggly for dinner last night, but because my allergies have been off the charts this year, and breathing is nigh unto impossible right now.

i’m stuffy, congested, watery eyed, and sleepy to the heavens.  it’s like my indoor plumbing has gone hay-wire, and i really need a sinus roto-rooter.

so i’m a zombie.  i’m walking around like the “stumbling dead” (a: i’m not walking fast  b: i don’t want to infringe on anyone’s copyrights; you get what i’m saying?).  i probably look like i fell out of a crypt.  my energy is almost equal to that of a houseplant, or at least a light switch.  and all i can think about is going back to sleep.

hmmm…now that i think about it, i should be concentrating more on brains.  so perhaps i’m really a MUMMY today, longing for my tomb?

either way, i’m feeling pretty monstrous

please leave the light on

 

i’m emotional now.

driving to pick up my sister (whom i missed and i guess she had to take the bus, ooops) i kept getting a stab of a headache now and then.

i recognize this as one of my people, wanting to come out. i haven’t yet determined if the headache occurs when they are trying to take over, or if it happens because someone else doesn’t want to let go of the “driver” position, and shoves the other away, who then gets a headache. but headaches do seem to be associated with one or more alters specifically.

and since i’ve just been jilted by my shrink, i imagine it’s someone wanting to come out.

at this point, i guess i don’t know why i try.

i don’t know why i open myself up to people, when they just throw me away like an old McDonald’s wrapper. i don’t know, that is probably over stating it. it’s not uncommon for therapists and their clients to part paths. but, i guess because of my condition, i feel it might be useful for me to have someone who can help me, show me information i need about my condition, guide me in how to assimilate, or integrate, or just deal with this. i don’t really feel like i was an overwhelming client, but either i was and didn’t know it, or it was just time to move on.

but it’s excruciating for me.

it’s a diabolical difficulty for me to open myself up to people and trust, and let them in, and expose myself to them. because of this. because i get left behind. i’ve been given away too many times, and it literally hurts my brain. so i don’t know, i guess i’ll go it alone, without a shrink. what do they know that i can’t figure out? what can they tell me that i haven’t already discovered, or can’t teach myself? they’ve never been all that much help anyway, and i’ve kind of always been treating my own self for my own illnesses. ah well, physician heal thyself, i guess.

the more important thing to me is not closing up. normally, at a situation like this, i would hunker down. batten up the hatches. seal up all the openings. everywhere that i have opened myself up, i would pull back and slink inside. new friendships, old ones, lovers and hopeful lovers, all would come under the category of “toss overboard” when i’m feeling vulnerable and discarded. not because i don’t want these people in my life. but because i have to apply the statistics. i have to look at the numbers. i have to assume that the people in my life that claim they love me, or care for me as a friend, or don’t even say either of these, but occasionally look at me with fondness…i have to assume that these people will also, eventually, find me distasteful. unappetizing. disgusting. i normally sense this coming on, or the potential of its potential, and i pack up my bags and move along.

but i can’t really bring myself to do that now. i’m in too deep with the things around me. i’m too close to my sister, i could never bail on her now, because she is the life line that ties me to sanity. she has been there for me through everything and more, and i could never just escape the world if it meant leaving her behind. i want to sometimes. i want to run for Chicago, or make a break for Seattle, and just start over. create another name and identity, like i’ve done before. assume a new mannerism, a new role in life, a new personality. this gets me away from everyone that knows me and allows me anonymity.

but it is constantly severing. it brings new friends, but leaves me without people that know me well, and love me still.

but it’s safe. and sometimes safe means more than love.

but not today. not right now. i have too many people around me that i care about, and actually see as friends. i have too many hopes for my future to run away now. i have too much potential for happiness – FINALLY – in my life to ditch it all because i’m hurt and scared and have been told, once again, that i am too much to handle. but it is tempting.

still, i have to believe that somehow, someone out there can handle me. and maybe it IS only my sister that can do it. ok. but i hope there are others who can handle me as well, and will rise up like zombies in the night to surround me with their love and friendship. or maybe they could rise up like something less apt to consume my flesh, but i’m hoping that i’ve finally found a network of friends and lovers that can tolerate my reality.

and if not – if worst case scenario plays out and all my friends turn away from me – there’s always a Motel 6 with a light on i can run to.