When your past breaths down your neck
Like a boundary challenged admirer...
Ugh. I have to go back to NH soon, for the funeral of a family friend/uncle. Someone I grew up with, who I loved very much. Who also scared the shit out of me, who I didn't really understand, but who I learned a lot from.
I haven't had time to deal with his death. He's been dying for a long time, but I've been gone. The last time I saw him, he was still hale and hearty, a big, handsome man with a huge smile. He was ready to die by the time he was gone, and it was good for him to be able to go.
But damn. I... I don't deal with death and loss very well. Who does, right? But I get sick. Like, instant, physical manifestation of stress. Belly goes haywire, constant stress headache, sniffling and sneezing to come soon. It's ridiculous, and weak. Drives me insane. I desperately don't want to go to this funeral. And if I'm being honest with myself, it's because I don't want to see the people who are going to be there. Yes, I don't want to deal with the loss of Bob. But more than that, I don't want to deal with my past.
The funeral will be in the old Kingdom Hall I went to for years. People I grew up with will be there, people I was so close to. Adults who helped raise me, old now. Children I played with who have children of their own now. People who still ask my parents about me, ask how I am...
A big part of why I don't want to see these people is religion. The stigma attached to leaving the "Truth" is huge. I grew up steeped in that knowledge. Now, I'm simply a lapsed Witness. I never got disfellowshipped or disassociated myself. I never even got a public reproof. Mostly because I waited till I was 3,000 miles away to start living my life the way I saw fit. But I know that I would have been had I stayed. I wouldn't have been able to keep quiet, to live my life in shame and fear of being caught. I would have pushed the issue, and I would have made a clean break. And going back now would be even more awkward. At least this way, my parents won't feel quite as uncomfortable ushering me around. Yay for bleak comfort!
The other reason I don't want to see these people is the weird relationship I have with judgement. I can't stand being judged. I get all squirmy and sick inside when I know it's happening. I hate the idea of these people looking at me and finding me lacking. I hate even admitting that out loud (sort of). It makes me feel like such a weak, silly human. But yeah. I hate the idea of them seeing me as fat, or ugly, or lonely, or pathetic, or lost to sin, or any of the number of other things Witnesses associate with people who leave the "Truth".
Maybe I shouldn't say Witnesses. Maybe that was just me, and the people around me. Either way, whether it's others or just me, it's what I fear when I think of seeing these people.
There aren't many things in this world that can make me feel that way anymore. I've very deliberately expunged any inkling of that level of judgmentalness from my life. If I don't like, admire, respect, or love you, your judgment means nothing to me. The judgement of strangers has become meaningless, through a lot of work on my part. I walk through this world with a force field surrounding me that only lets in admiration. It's a nice force field, believe me.
But my past, even just thoughts of my past, tears that force field into sad little tatters, fluttering in the breeze of fear emanating from my body.
And oh, does that bother me. I'm trying to look at this trip as a way to deal with those issues. But I don't wanna deal with those issues right now. I've got plenty of other shit I could be working on.
I know that, in reality, it won't be that bad. I'll wear something that makes me feel confident and sexy, I'll rely on my strength, and I'll hold my head up high while talking to people who, in their own, sick way, genuinely mean well. I'll enjoy myself for much of it, and I'll be the social powerhouse I can pull out of my ass when I need to.
But inside I'll be screaming, and when I walk away from it I'll spend weeks to months dealing with the repercussions of suppressing my fear. How ridiculous is that? And how infuriating, knowing that things that SHOULD HAVE NO POWER ANYMORE still have the ability to make my life unhappy for any period of time.
Ugh. I have to go back to NH soon, for the funeral of a family friend/uncle. Someone I grew up with, who I loved very much. Who also scared the shit out of me, who I didn't really understand, but who I learned a lot from.
I haven't had time to deal with his death. He's been dying for a long time, but I've been gone. The last time I saw him, he was still hale and hearty, a big, handsome man with a huge smile. He was ready to die by the time he was gone, and it was good for him to be able to go.
But damn. I... I don't deal with death and loss very well. Who does, right? But I get sick. Like, instant, physical manifestation of stress. Belly goes haywire, constant stress headache, sniffling and sneezing to come soon. It's ridiculous, and weak. Drives me insane. I desperately don't want to go to this funeral. And if I'm being honest with myself, it's because I don't want to see the people who are going to be there. Yes, I don't want to deal with the loss of Bob. But more than that, I don't want to deal with my past.
The funeral will be in the old Kingdom Hall I went to for years. People I grew up with will be there, people I was so close to. Adults who helped raise me, old now. Children I played with who have children of their own now. People who still ask my parents about me, ask how I am...
A big part of why I don't want to see these people is religion. The stigma attached to leaving the "Truth" is huge. I grew up steeped in that knowledge. Now, I'm simply a lapsed Witness. I never got disfellowshipped or disassociated myself. I never even got a public reproof. Mostly because I waited till I was 3,000 miles away to start living my life the way I saw fit. But I know that I would have been had I stayed. I wouldn't have been able to keep quiet, to live my life in shame and fear of being caught. I would have pushed the issue, and I would have made a clean break. And going back now would be even more awkward. At least this way, my parents won't feel quite as uncomfortable ushering me around. Yay for bleak comfort!
The other reason I don't want to see these people is the weird relationship I have with judgement. I can't stand being judged. I get all squirmy and sick inside when I know it's happening. I hate the idea of these people looking at me and finding me lacking. I hate even admitting that out loud (sort of). It makes me feel like such a weak, silly human. But yeah. I hate the idea of them seeing me as fat, or ugly, or lonely, or pathetic, or lost to sin, or any of the number of other things Witnesses associate with people who leave the "Truth".
Maybe I shouldn't say Witnesses. Maybe that was just me, and the people around me. Either way, whether it's others or just me, it's what I fear when I think of seeing these people.
There aren't many things in this world that can make me feel that way anymore. I've very deliberately expunged any inkling of that level of judgmentalness from my life. If I don't like, admire, respect, or love you, your judgment means nothing to me. The judgement of strangers has become meaningless, through a lot of work on my part. I walk through this world with a force field surrounding me that only lets in admiration. It's a nice force field, believe me.
But my past, even just thoughts of my past, tears that force field into sad little tatters, fluttering in the breeze of fear emanating from my body.
And oh, does that bother me. I'm trying to look at this trip as a way to deal with those issues. But I don't wanna deal with those issues right now. I've got plenty of other shit I could be working on.
I know that, in reality, it won't be that bad. I'll wear something that makes me feel confident and sexy, I'll rely on my strength, and I'll hold my head up high while talking to people who, in their own, sick way, genuinely mean well. I'll enjoy myself for much of it, and I'll be the social powerhouse I can pull out of my ass when I need to.
But inside I'll be screaming, and when I walk away from it I'll spend weeks to months dealing with the repercussions of suppressing my fear. How ridiculous is that? And how infuriating, knowing that things that SHOULD HAVE NO POWER ANYMORE still have the ability to make my life unhappy for any period of time.
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