28 July 1996, part 2
10:13pm
I got a letter from [my friend] Ann yesterday. I had written to her about starting therapy with June, how I was tired of coming up against this brick wall of fear that I do, etc. Of the many things she said in her letter, was the one question in reference to the above sentence: "Tell me, if you will! What is it that you are so afraid of??" That's a very good question, isn't it? What exactly will I say to answer it? Not just to Ann, but to myself, since I have been (in my fashion) asking myself the very same thing. Is it something real, something horrible, or something that was bad but became seemingly worse through the other distortions of my life? Does it even matter? The void seems real enough for me; whether it turns out to be an illusion or not isn't so important as finding out what it is and dealing with it.
It's not as if I imagined the traumas that happened to me -- the rape happened, the verbal and emotional abuse (both at home and at school) did happen. People have phobias from less traumatic incidents as these, so why should I beat myself up for having fears? They [the fears] are what have helped me survive this long. But now I want to do more than survive, I want to thrive, so now I have to figure out how to do it.
I often wonder if I am in a "quitter" mode, if I want anything enough to do whatever I must do to have it? I beat myself up because I do not want to go to school, want to have a job, all the things that adults are supposed to do. But then I am not "most people", I am only me, being the best me I know how to be. I seem to remember a thing from Psych 101 about a hierarchy of needs, that humans would not be able to focus on certain needs until other more basic ones are met. Like someone wouldn't much be caring about how many friends they have if they are starving to death. Food and water is a primary need, shelter, a sense of security. I guess it's hard for me to find motivation for going to school or work when I can't even decide if my own life has worth.
Maybe it's kind of like asking a kid what she wants to be when she grows up, and then asking her how she's going to accomplish that. If the child is a normal, well-adjusted 16 year old, she may be able to tell you. But you can't expect a 9 year old to [be able] to tell you all the details.
I know, I'm not 9, I'm 32. I'm not anything -- I don't know what I am. Sometimes I feel 16 and sometimes 116. All I can say is that I'm not yet an adult, and I totally resent the fact that I'm being pushed into [making] decisions that I'm not ready to make. I'm trying to grow as fast as I can, I'm sorry that doesn't appease some people. I'll make the decision [whether] I want to go back to school or go to work or none of the above when I feel I can make the right decision -- and right now I still feel impaired. I guess one of the people bugging me to make a decision is me, huh?
Okay, let's see if I can pinpoint a few of my fears, as they relate to personal interactions. I fear: letting people down; being mocked or teased; being abandoned; being hurt. I could walk down Bourbon Street in the dead of the night and feel less fear than I would walking in a mall on Saturday afternoon, when it is full of teenagers. Granted, I am getting better at realizing I have no control over other people's stupidity, if they make fun of me, it has more to do with their own low self-esteem than anything else. So why does it scare me so?
Letting people down may well be the biggest fear, besides others entwined with the rape, because it has been so reinforced in recent years. Of course, the best way not to let people down is not to overburden yourself in the first place. If you realize what you are and are not capable of, then you won't try to do what you can't. Of course, realizing your capabilities is the hard part.
Trust is a very big issue with me, too. Being able to trust that people mean what they say, that they will do what they promise to do. All through my life I have had my trust in someone blow up in my face. I realize that everyone goes through this, it's part of life (liars), but it gets harder to trust people as you are lied to more and more. Your own parents don't bring you to a doctor or cop or therapist after you tell them you've been raped -- how can you ever trust them again? Forgive? Yes; they were human. Love? Yes; having a taste of your own mortality does tend to change your outlook on life. It changed my dad's for the better. But trust? Now, that's the hard one. I trust them infinitely more than I used to, but I can't say totally. Hell, I don't even trust myself, how can I trust anyone else?
Oh my goddess, that's it! That's the core issue -- trusting my own self! I know and accept that I have no control of what others do -- it's the mistrust of my own human self that holds me back, that frightens me so much. That's exactly what it is! "I couldn't stop myself from being raped, so how can I trust me not to keep from hurting myself again?" That's the erroneous assumption that makes up the brick wall I keep slamming into. That I use to beat myself with every time I make a perfectly human mistake. That's it! I can't believe I finally figured it out!! "If I can't trust myself, how can I expect to trust anyone else?" If I can't forgive myself for my own human failings, how can I truly forgive anyone else?
If some woman told me the tale of her rape, and started to blame herself for being in the wrong place, I know I would tell her, "It's not your fault, it's that asshole's for raping you! No one, woman or man, adult or child, provocative or not, deserves to be raped. You didn't do anything wrong!" So why can't I believe that of my own self?
I have so much more I want to write but I am so exhausted (it's 11:50 now). I have to have some Pepto-Bismol now, which is not surprising considering all the emotions flowing that the tummy has made too much acid. My poor body, I know it's getting really tired of all the crap my emotions put it through. Well, I'm gonna stop now, but the key word for the next time is TRUST.