The Circus Freak

I've been going to therapy now for three months. It's been one of the best gifts I've given myself - going back when most people have thought I should be over it by now. I mentioned to the therapist what I'd said in an earlier post about how I should be good at transitions by now, she looked at me, in her "you've got be kidding me" way, and asked why? Of course I said I'd had so many, that I should be used to them by now. But she pointed out that what I've been through has been horrendous - that there is no reason on earth I should be used to any of this. I've tried to describe here in this blog what I've been through - what the dynamics were and how they've affected me and my well being - affected my ability to view myself accurately, and maybe I've not done a good job of that - so it always surprises me some that I look back on all this and end up down playing some of it sometimes and people (therapist, friends...) challenge me on that - say, "Why would you NOT feel that way... why would you NOT think that?" I guess I've always figured no matter what I've had to face, others somewhere have had it worse. (can you tell mom used that whole "there are starving children in Africa line" on us when we were kids?) And it's true, people do deal with worse, I see it in my job almost everyday - but I've got to remind myself that just because it is true doesn't negate what I've had to deal with, what I've had to go through.

In therapy we've talked about a great number of things. We've touched on the relationships I've had, both friendly and romantic, in the last three and a half years. We talked about the ex and his past and present behaviors - about the possibility he has a personality disorder and how I've not made up the mind games that got played - how he did choose a target of blame and hate - and she just happened to be me - the safest one he could find. He couldn't hate his folks, couldn't hate the kids, couldn't really hate himself (part of the whole personality disorder thing) and so, lucky me, I got the winning ticket - and boy did I get repaid in spades! There is such a duel nature to who he is... a war constantly waging in his head - one that drives everything he does. I can recognize all this and put it in the proper prospective - and yet not excuse it. He is not sick but he's not completely well and that's where the line between sympathy and indifference gets blurred for me.

And so I am finally at the point of this post - the meat of the discussion: the circus freak. It surprises me that I've not written about her more than I have but I've touched on her here and here. I've probably downplayed her, but then again that's my way, huh? The therapist and I have talked about her a lot - about who she is, where she came from, why she takes up so much real estate in my head. A few sessions ago the therapist made an observation about her, said if it were a matter of me just wrestling her for control she has no doubt I would have won that fight by now... but she acknowledged there is more to it than that - and so she suggested perhaps instead of trying to banish her to the frozen tundra of Siberia we invite her closer, try and figure out what she wants, what she needs. She also suggested I give her a funny voice - maybe Elmer Fudd... and see if that quiets her influence over my thoughts and feelings some.

Now the circus freak, while she maybe with me always she's not always vocal, so she doesn't always have the strong influence she has at other times. And if I'm being honest, which is sorta the whole point, it might be important to explain how she only really influences one area of my life - whether or not I'm attractive and desirable. She has no bearing on whether or not I think I'm a good parent, or smart, or hardworking, or a good friend, or a kind person - she's all tied up in whether or not I have worth as a woman in regard to my sensuality, my physical attractiveness, my sexual desirability. My ex was able to use this, my Achilles' heel if you will, to do the most damage to me. It's something that's always been a tad bit shaky for me - maybe it is for most people. But my folks, well... it wasn't something that was fostered in my family. I've written about that before - and I've tried to change that for my daughter, tried to plant the seed of self esteem, not only in her physical view of herself but also in her abilities and the innate goodness she possesses. This week she's met a few new people, friends of friends, people I work with, and they come away telling me how bubbly she is, how lovely she is, how polite and well spoken she is - how she's a total package. And yes, that makes me feel good as a mother to hear those things, but it also makes me feel good for her - she is all those things and people see them. What's even more people tell her these things - they also interact with her in ways that say, without words, she is interesting and of worth. The seed has been planted - and now it's being nurtured.

I've digressed, but not really - so here is the circus freak and I'm working with the therapist to figure out what it is she needs, what it is that will put her in a her place and remove her influence over me. I gave her the Elmer Fudd voice and well, it worked! And then something happened, and I was, well, back at square one, sorta... but not really because I stopped and I listened and I did invite her closer, I did make an effort to remove the emotion from it and have a "conversation" with her. I know all this sounds kinda split personality-ish and perhaps you're wondering when I'm going to call myself Sybil and start talking in a different voice and wearing strange clothes. It's ok, I'm good. Really . So we "talked" the 500 lb bearded circus lady freak and me - and the more I listened to her, the more I really took a moment to understand what was going on, I realized she wasn't trying to hurt me as much as she was trying to protect me - what she'd been doing all along was trying to protect me - and somehow it just got turned around and messed up... my inability to let go of her wasn't tied to anything more than my loyalty to her and my pity for her. She did so much to protect me during the pain, so much to "eat" the abuse and disrespect. She stood in front of me and absorbed it all. Her actions weren't wrapped in sympathy and kindess or warmth and love, they were hard and cold, they were raw and ugly, but she was protecting me none the less. Weird I know...

I shared all this with the therapist and she didn't commit me so I guess that's a good sign. It's not over, the circus freak isn't gone - but I don't think that was the point. I don't regard her in the same way now - and of course the issue is far from "fixed" but it's a start - I have a perspective on it now I think. It's not so dark and mysterious anymore, it's workable - daylight has been shed... it's not so scary. Onward and upward, eh?