Thursday, March 07, 2013
Battling A Demon Called Pointlessness
Today I might write five posts, or no more after this one. I might then skip a few days, or overload the Internet with my processing. I might not ever speak of adoption or emotional issues again, or I might try and continue to understand here as I type, retelling our experiences.
I don't know.
I do know that I need to be working in, and on, my head, trying to get past the trauma, the resentment, and the immensely staggering damage done around here.
There's not a screen left in any bedroom window downstairs, all have fallen victim to angry kids over the years, there are broken window panes, patched haphazardly, entire window frames have needed to be replaced, and some have already been done. It makes me sad and angry to survey the damages.
I feel totally out of touch with The Real World. I'm old, tired, and unfashionable, - a vegan, politically and religiously conservative, an environmentalist, a mom to many, and what I've seen and witnessed has knocked my moorings loose - not having much in common with anyone, thus my hermit-like existence. I feel like a pariah, and I figure I've done it to myself by my many choices to be who I am. It makes me annoying, odd, and a contradiction in terms.
Nando brought in an armload of hyacinth yesterday, the fragrance nothing short of intoxication, he'd run outside for a minute and been repelled by the weather here in March, for Pete's sake, that barely made it to 40 yesterday. I worked in the house with a scarf wrapped three times around my neck, unable to feel warm. Tell me about symbolism.
Matter of fact I'm unable to feel much at all, disengaging has taken a toll, suppressing my true feelings of outrage at times has left me with a flat affect, having to suck it up and take it on the chin constantly has resulted in my stunned state of shock, and then there's been the repetitive train leaving the station whining "I'm gonna reject you before you reject me" mentality over the years. leaving me staring blankly.
I literally expect it now, a self-fulfilling prophecy at work, automatically bracing for the hit.
So I don't know if my journaling here is helping me or not, that's why I might increase, or decrease. I'm just gonna follow my feelings that I'm likely not very in touch with anymore. I'm not sad, I'm just still stupefied by it all.
The pointlessness of it all has been staggering.