Wednesday, January 2, 2013

Tangent - Scary Junk In My Mind

"I like to watch the right decisions dance around my head
And sit around reflecting on the ones I made instead.
I got lost in thralldom right away and look at where I am today
Fingering a thin and fraying string forever."*
I am finding out some scary scary shit about myself. I suspect the last 15 or so years of my life would have been dramatically different had I immediately gone into therapy after my first real relationship ended. I honestly thought that I was past that, I thought that I had dealt with it. (Despite refering to him as "the asshole" rather than by his name all this time. Despite someone very wise saying to me at least a decade ago "how can you say you're over it when you won't even say his name?") I can admit it today, I did not deal with it. And he's still here in my head, and it's going to take a lot of work to get him out, but having recognized the problem now it can be dealt with. If I'm brave enough.
"And if it drags me down what can I do but follow
To swim against a vortex or to lie me down and wallow?
The big wide empty...
(lie me down)
The big wide empty..."*

So I have a Master now. Not something I ever thought I'd say. And the really weird thing is it wasn't really me who made the decision. (It was, really it was, don't panic, I will explain.) More of my education in hypnosis: I have a conscious mind and a subconscious mind. Which I knew already, but never ever thought about how great a divide there could be between the two. I don't know how it is for other people, but my subconscious feels an awful lot like a completely different person to me. At one point, my Master actually said I sounded like I had a split personality. I don't. But one of my favorite YouTube vids has to do with strengthening the subconscious's control over the body, and it works really really well. In trance with my Master my subconscious has been doing all the hard work. It is the most eerie feeling. I end up staring straight ahead at the top edge of the laptop (not the screen, mind you) and everything in front of my eyes turns 2D and looks like it's sliding back and forth. If I were sitting here now typing and that happened I would freak out, but when it happens and I'm in trance I can't look away. And my subconscious types responses while I'm staring at a wall. (Well, a bulletin board, but you get the idea.)
"Brought up in seclusion
California breeds confusion
When your fossil fuels run dry meet me under the delusion
We could leap off of the infrastructure
Choose our words less carefully
The music of a thrumming nerve
a rhapsody."*
So back to the scary shit. I was a loner as a child, sheltered (see my post that starts out "some women..." because obviously a lot of it was about me), emotionally immature, and stifled and angry and unhappy with it. I ran away from home at 17 ( well went to college but it's the same thing in this context.) I had never had a boyfriend. Never been in love. I had never masturbated. I was completely ignorant about how my body and had been raised to think of sex as a bad thing. I was going to stay a virgin until I married, of course.
"I cannot see the edges and I cannot see the guts
No, I cannot see the rivets and I cannot see the struts
And the line between open and embarrassing is hard to see at best
and ever-narrowing..."*
His name is Brian James Adams. I met him when I was 17 and he was 23. He had just gotten out of the Army (this will turn out to be a trend in my life) and was starting as a freshman even though he was older than the rest of us. He was shorter than me, and unattractive, and I disliked him on sight. He followed me around (we shared two classes) and said that he would keep trying until I would agree to go on a date with him. He bought me flowers. He called me beautiful. He became my friend. I let him kiss me, because I didn't want to never be kissed. I know now that I felt no passion for him, but only in retrospect. I didn't know what passion felt like. I let him finger me on the floor of my dorm room. I may even have orgasmed. I really don't know. Afterward, I lay on the floor and shook and I don't know if it was from climax, or from shame, or from fear, or from some combination of all of these.
"My dear old friendly passing acquaintance, it's really good to see ya.
It's been a while, to say the least
(is always a good idea).
We knew how we felt and what to say
and look at where we are today:
waiting for the string to break."*
A week later, or thereabouts, I had a panic attack in his dorm room. Out of the blue. I don't know what sparked it. Paramedics were called. I refused hospital treatment because I was too ashamed to let my family know that I had freaked out. I will never forget that one of the paramedics took me aside and said to me "sweetheart, your body is trying to tell you something important here. get out of this situation." I can honestly say I didn't have any idea what he was talking about. And a month after that, I let him take my virginity while I pretended to sleep, so I wouldn't have to acknowledge any responsibility for what was happening to me. And there was really no going back after that was there? At least that's what I thought. He had a roommate that was never there, and I had a roommate that I couldn't stand, so I basically moved into his dorm room. His bed was more comfortable than mine anyhow. At Thanksgiving I told him I loved him. I really believed that I did. And missed him with every fiber of my being, like being without air or heat. My midterm grade in my best class went from an A to a D because I didn't go to the final exam and wasn't allowed to make it up. Still trying to escape? I think so.
"And if it drags me down what can I do but follow
To swim against a vortex or to lie me down and wallow?
The big wide empty...
(lie me down)
The big wide empty..."*
It wasn't until after Christmas that he asked me to do anal. He heard me gasp when his penis accidentally brushed my buttcheek and interpreted it as a sound of pleasure. It was not, but I agreed to try anyway. It was the single most horrible thing I have ever experienced in my life. Knowing now that I felt no passion for him, that I wasn't physically attracted to him in anyway, it's not surprising that I didn't like anal sex with him. I told him I didn't like it and he said we wouldn't have to do it again.

We did it again.

And again.

And again.

Why did I do it? I laid down willingly and begged him to stop the whole time he was doing it. And he ignored me. I cried and huddled in a ball until he was finished and stayed on the floor hiding from myself while he cleaned himself up and walked away. Every time. I so desperately wanted him to prove that he really loved me by listening to me and stopping that I gave him the opportunity to do this to me over and over.

I have always believed that I raped myself.

I let him do it. I let him into my mind and let him fester there and grow while I tried to go on with my life. He broke up with me because he'd gotten another girl pregnant, but had me one more time as a goodbye.

Until this morning I didn't realize how he had continued to govern certain aspects of my life for over 20 years. I'm not going to go into what happened last night or what happened this morning in response to it except to say that my Master asked my subconscious what the problem was and the answer was "Brian."
"And if it drags me down, what can I do but follow?
To swim against a vortex or to lie me down and wallow
The big wide empty
(lie me down)
The big wide empty
Tonight I saw the edges, 'cause tonight I finally tried a bit
Look what came of it"*
I only have one question now: would I be trying this adventure if Brian hadn't happened to me?
*Big Wide Empty by Harvey Danger from the album Dead Sea Scrolls. Do yourself a favor and discover this band.

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