Thursday, March 24, 2011

I am curious about how other people think


It's funny - you really don't know what you want. You can't even write your thoughts down. There is a blockage. I even call myself you. I think each thing as I write it down..slowly saying each word as it appears yet knowing what will come next. You say it right before you finish like rub(necks)ber.

I really analyze myself. That must be where I am different from a lot of people, I think of my siblings.

Hey, I could write anything down about Julie and Pete and Steve and Julie and Cindy and John, about a  lot of people. Cris just came sniffing loudly from the bathroom. He will never read this. So I can say anything I want. ooooh...diaphram please (clap clap)

I have always admired your gentleness.

Being the man who wears the dress, all I desire is a house husband.

December 15, 1987

These are things I need to ask myself.

What do I want? More specifically, what do I want from Cris? He is no good. If he wanted to live happily ever after it might be another story but experience shows this is not the case. Cris has had lovers for so long, all of ianthe's life. He will not change. He may be remorseful about leaving us - oh well - not my problem.

I want to go to school but I really need to become independent. Maybe I should get a job and not go to school. If I worked 7-3 it may be okay. I would need daycare for the kids only. i could go to school next fall. Cris has to get out of my life.

I mustn't hurt him intentionally. Matt, who works at the media center is married and has a child. I wonder if he "looks around" like Cris the fink.

Oooh look at me...I looked so young. Oh god do I feel awful to have said that...oh god you stupid cow.

Ooh, look at that! Oh, I was so thin!

God get the damn camera outta my face god you stupid cow.

Start 003617

(I can only guess this is in response to a video being shown in class - the instructor - a visiting artist - was always showing her own work, and I didn't much care for her)

Having paused for such a long time from writing in this blog over the anxiety of the end of my first marriage seems so silly to me right now. I did feel terrible anxiety when I stopped. I was so afraid. All the feelings and shame flooding back. Worry about what I actually wrote of the experience in my journal. I should have known I would gloss over the pain. I do tend to do that. Leave no tracks. I hate records of pain. I really do. Since I had invaded Cris's privacy by reading his journals when I became suspicious of his prolonged absences and his emotional distance, I believed that at any time, someone could find my journal and read it - even though I claim the exact opposite in the first entry above. I know that if I were to journal today, about my daily emotional roller coaster - actually just calm to shame - to calm - to righteous superiority - I would require a lock box to store it. I would require it - not because anyone would even be interested in the contents - but I wouldn't be able to say what is really in here. 

Sure I speak freely after a post, and analyze myself in present context, or in historical - but that isn't the same thing. I can speak freely of the despair I feel often, of my loneliness and anger at not being able to be alone enough. I can speak of obsessions and preoccupations. I can speak of my emotional pain. These are all things I would say out loud, to a friend - there are a few of you who stop by to read that know this.

I am curious about how other people think. I have always been aware that my thoughts were a little out of sync with those around me. I love that I state it in my journal in 1987. I bet I could grab out even older journals from my box and find the same words. I am different. Everyone else does not think.

I wonder what it would be to live life without the "projected self" - that curious Theory of Mind being natural and matter of course. For those of you who are not quite sure what I mean by this, I exist in this world and project myself upon others - everyone. So anything anyone does, I read it as if I were the one saying or doing it. So, everyone is me. I project my beliefs, intentions, desires, and knowledge to those around me. When people act in ways that challenge my understanding of them (me) then I get all riled up - hence the indignant self-righteousness feeling. I am trying to entangle myself from the world by purposefully developing a more expanded Theory of Mind that will take into account that everyone else has their own experiences and feelings and beliefs and understandings and I need to keep that in mind when interacting with them. Okay- that *sounds* like I know it - but I only know the words. I am good with words.

Yesterday, I was talking with my therapist. I told him I was interested in two different emotional experience that I often have - self-righteous indignation and shame. That pretty much sums up my personal hell. Since Minnesota decided that it would be a good idea to dump several inches of melting snow on the freeways at rush hour, leaving well in advance of my appointment still made me 35 minutes late. So with 20 minutes - he said we had enough time for the "self-righteousness". 

People who know me on Facebook, know I have "triggers". I get set off on rants for apparently no reason (well, I know the reason). My doctor was saying, "Most people are..." he trailed off, so I guessed the missing word "stupid?" - "No, not stupid, most people are more forgiving of others foibles". He told me that most people don't care if someone missed their point and can brush things off. They decide that on a scale of zero=it doesn't matter at all to 10=I have to address this right away. That FB posts are zeros for most people. Hmmm. Strange. No Seriously. I was confused. I still am. We didn't have time to finish the conversation. Really? Do neurotypical people really not care? Don't they feel the adrenalin rush? Can't they feel it? Or do they and then they choose to ignore it?

Tears are filling my eyes right now. That is strange. I think I am crying because I really don't "get" it. It makes no sense - I cannot "crack the code". I tried to talk to my son about it - he is the most like me - he didn't get it either. So, we are no help to one another. I don't know what to do. Maybe my husband can explain it better to me.

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