Dreams

 Just had a dream that E was pregnant. It was odd, like multiple hints about it in the dream, and then at the end like a “wait what?” 

But we seemed to be partners.  So I dunno. 

I don’t think I’ll be able to get back to sleep. But it sure feels nice to dream. 

Sometimes pregnancy in a dream just means a new idea or a change. Maybe it’s not for her? Maybe for me? 

After laying in bed another 20 minutes my mind drifted back to anger and drama with family.  I feel kind of crazy for wanting something I can’t have, and not knowing a better way. I feel like a brat, asking for things that would make me feel safe, like I could trust and respect them. I feel a great desire to be independent while also being lonely.   It’s crazy making. I know I am not entirely in the right, but it would be easier to remove myself (like leave the country) than to deal with it/ when I’ve already tried and it didn’t change anything. Maybe I need reinforcements, but the way the family is right now, my sister is fully dependent on my parents for daycare and likely money… any younger brother works with my dad every day, my older brother has fought these battles to stalemate half a dozen times and shared that nothing changed- he just didn’t want to keep the grandkids from them.

*Later in the day*

It is mid afternoon. I did two sessions then had my own therapy, then recovered and did another session with a client. 

In my therapy I basically regressed to a baby and hated every second of it. Felt helpless and scared. Felt like I didn’t have control over my body. Dissociated on and off. Kept going in and out of feeling like I had access to my brain.  Basically did brainspotting without trying. I cried, I shook, I stammered and bit at my fingers and thumbs.  I wanted to tear paper but found myself just folding it over and over. I don’t know if it had anything to do with my family stuff that we had been talking about, but I know it was the earliest body feelings that didn’t feel right. 

I imagined, though I didn’t want to say anything, that I was experiencing being a baby with a stomach ache that can’t be soothed or expressed. Or a baby getting a diaper changed by someone who I don’t trust fully. Maybe they are in a bad mood. There isn’t warmth or comfort, it’s feeling jerked around and out of control. 

And in the present with my therapist watching me freeze and cry and dissociate all I can think about is how embarrassing, I’m so nervous and shaky and I don’t want to be seen. I feel helpless and I want to respond to her, but I don’t have words, but I want to agree to the thing she is saying, but I also don’t want to. I am afraid. I know what is good for me, I know that she wants good for me, but I also don’t trust anything in that moment. Part of my desire to say yes is a fawn response, I’ll say yes if it pleases you. And I know that… but I also don’t want to feel alone and stuck in this feeling.

I want to push her away, I want to hide, I want to be anywhere other than where I am. 

There are multiple stories I’ve been told about my early childhood, but I forget them. I don’t have conscious memories. I have weird confusing dreams. For instance I know  I was abused by a baby sitter Or by their child - which was the story my parents didn’t believe. I was a baby with multiple bruises on my head and face… my mom was horrified. 

My dad tells this story about driving to mn with me as a baby in the middle of a blizzard. I could imagine he was anxious and upset. 

I can also just imagine both of my parents being tired and irritable and wanting to keep up with work, and being impatient with me. 

But in the session I didn’t know any of this, I didn’t have access to words or thoughts, and being watched in this state I only know helplessness, fear, and shame - a desire to be or do or say anything else other than sit with this feeling. 

And then on some level, I also know what comes out of that desire to hide. A desire to please, to keep people happy, to stay safe and avoid conflict even at the cost of my own feelings. Resentment, anger, controlling behavior. A desire to not allow others to harm me. Hyper independence. 

When I was with M, she would repeatedly go to these places where she was dissociative and not able to express herself. Part of me felt like she was lying to me and didn’t know what to say, but other times it seemed so genuine that she was just off, alone and that any support or comfort I gave wasn’t actually felt. Like she wasn’t capable of r receiving it. I am sure the end of our relationship was problematic for that. She just told me that she had disconnected when she felt like I’d left her, and I tried to reassure her I was right in front of her and she didn’t need to believe that story, but it was already resolved and suddenly I couldn’t cope with that. To be rejected and abandoned abruptly, to feel lied to and manipulated, to feel discarded so easily… and I became possessive and controlling and resentful. 

I can imagine her feeling like how I did to my therapist, like “I need you to not be present” I can’t feel safe right now.

I was able to acknowledge parts of that with my therapist. “Im nervous” “im worried you’re judging me” “I feel like I want to say no, but I also know it would be helpful,” “I literally want to push you away right now.”

And she was able to accept that.

With M I don’t think I was able to really accept that. I could say, “that makes sense” but I had my own need to be accepted. 

A week ago I was thinking about how I keep seeing repeated patterns, keep seeing the same people, different face, same energy, same person, g-d in drag… you know?

Today I feel like I was meant to run into these people. Feel like I’m meant to work through this struggle right now. To learn to be present for my baby self or my younger self… and stop self abandoning, and also be more able and present for others. More trusting because I can trust my own abilities to be there for me when it’s hard. 

I didn’t realize it… I was avoiding it. 

More journaling this week

 There will probably be more because I am trying to stay off social media and I don’t know what to do with myself. Just spent the last hour fucking around with watercolors. 

I don’t have much to say. Last night I had a nightmare in which my partner and I got into a fight with my step sister, and I became physical, kind of forced her to the ground, then turned her into an ant and stomped on her. 

I spent the next hour in the dream fearing that what I thought I had done was real, and also fearing that it wasn’t real and she was out to get me. I walked the streets at night, i looked in her windows to see if she was there. I half lied to my partner to try to give her the benefit of the doubt. I wasn’t ever sure if I was a murderer or just some sort of fake… and I was so scared the whole time… I was angry and acted out, and then spent my life in hiding. 

It sounds familiar. 

It was an awful fucking nightmare. 

I had this idea the other day, what if I didn’t change who I was around other people… what if I was just always myself.  Around family, friends, work… what if I didn’t present myself but just was myself. Some part of that must have scared me. 

I still don’t know what to do about my family. Some part of me is also mad at them for seeming not to care. My step sister was mad at me for not showing up for her… not because she was worried about me. I guess that’s the relationship we have then eh?  

I’ve been wondering if I want to share any of this with my therapist. If I want to be more open about scary things.

I dunno if I trust her. 

Today my ankle hurt for no reason. I hope it wasn’t because of the massage yesterday. It just seems less steady, as if I had just twisted it. Each first step feels unsteady, makes me feel worried about New York. 

Today I missed E. For someone reason I specially missed the walks we’ve been on- even in the time we were friends. I haven’t reached out, because I felt like she was pulling back. But I miss her. 

Not sure what is store.  Tomorrow consult at night. Thursday open mic. Sunday brunch with a friend. 

Should probably do something else too… but it’s like 95 degrees out and kind of gross. Maybe I should be utilizing the pool that I pay for??? 

Clearly I have run out of things to say. 

Braindead weekend

After a week of journaling and thinking about all my woes... this weekend was pretty dead. 

It was super hot and humid out. I basically stayed inside on my phone all weekend. 

Saturday took my mom out to lunch, and went to dinner with a friend. 

Today I got a massage and groceries. 

Cleaned a bit and did laundry, dishes, ran a few errands.

But didn't really exercise, didn't read much, didn't do any creative projects, none of that has really been appealing lately. 

It's almost 8pm.

The song "Waiting" is in my head. 

That feels right. This weekend felt like a waiting period. Not sure what for... I spent part of today laying in bed before nap, reminding myself that I can't think through my problems or develop perfect plans... to solve anything would require getting up, getting out, and trying new things.

I couldn't think of anything I wanted to do. None of my standards (coffee shops, movies, etc.) I thought about the lists of places I want to check out... but the heat (upper 90s and humid) felt so unbearable even in the walk from the car to the grocery store, that it didn't seem very appealing to be out there... didn't feel like socializing with strangers... really wanting the familiarity of the kind of love you don't question. Companionship.

Last week felt like everyone who was doing good was suddenly doing bad, or vice versa, or just more extreme?  Folks felt off. Makes me not want to invest in anything, can't trust the energy you know?

I leave for New York in about 13 days. See a few friends before then. Have therapy once... though I have nothing to say. Maybe part of me thinks therapy is a joke. 

One of the social media things I was looking at said, meeting people is really hard and when you go with the intention of meeting it makes it even more difficult, awkward, nervous, disappointment etc... nothing living up to your expectations -more essential is to develop a passion, be passionate about something so intensely that you attract the people who are interested.  

One of the difficulties of being a therapist is that you practice holding space for others and toning down your own shit.  

Its kind of a funny thing. I spend all this time trying to be more polite, nice, less needy, less greedy, and yet... that just shaves off any personality. When you make pasta you want the kind that grips the sauce - you do that by creating more edges, curves, spaces, pockets... when you want crispy potatoes, you rough up the edges a little so the oil can get in.   

Am I working against my own purposes? 

But all that to say, I don't really have any of those passions these days.  Spending way too much time online that's for sure. I got a little report that I was averaging 6 hours a day on my phone, so add in computer time and I could have another job or a whole ass family. 

I haven't really felt like making art. Writing is fun and I can get really into it, but it's hard to sustain. I am never gonna be a musician. I don't really want to organize with a political group... i like showing up for these visibility demonstrations - thats kind of my sweet spot right now. 

I think when I get back from New York I should start jumping on dating sites or meet ups or something. Need something to change you know?

When I got the massage today, I was thinking... I need to meet someone who is body based, intuitive, but also like open to spirit and what now. Its so nice to be attended to. 

I think I will probably start getting massages regularly again. At least once a month. Otherwise, I can literally go years without being touched. 

I know nothing will change if I don't leave the house... but I can tell I am waiting for someone to come pluck me up.

Tarot cards today, 9 of wands, 2 of wands, 4 of cups, 2 of swords, magician...

Most make sense... maybe not the magician. Maybe I'll get some crazy inspiration later and change the world.   The beginning of the day might have been a little more 2 of wands... the rest has definitely been 4 of cups boredom.  So stable. 

navel gazing

 

Today I am thinking of shame. Of shameful behaviors. Times when I placed my own needs over those of others, without consent, without negotiation, without knowledge or room for light. Some situations in which I have talked to the people, but mostly no. Things I sit with. Since I was young. Today I am thinking of apologies I want to give, but am afraid to. Today I am thinking of the ways I’ve avoided life because I didn’t see myself as worthy of another’s attention, or thought myself deficient, or settled for less than I deserved -like the truth, or presence, or shared responsibility, because I thought myself inherently flawed. Today I am sitting with these things, because yesterday I sat with an individual who felt the same way about themselves, and the day before, and later today, and tomorrow, and the next. Each day I sit with folks who think themselves unlovable, unworthy, and whose behavior shows this deep wound beneath, despite their attempts to hide, to avoid, to make the best of what they believe to be the worst situation. Today I sit with my own, because I fantasized I might run into one of those people who may not have done me right, but to whom I know I did wrong, and rather than focus on the pain they caused me, I criticize my own lack.  It would be nice to be redeemed.

I used to think that I needed Jesus for that. I thought that only if I live right, act right, pray right, I’d be worthy of heaven. But I taste heaven routinely… and still wonder if I deserve it. I know that Jesus was like me, angry at the misery of it all, and cried out that we know not what we do… and someone I get mad at him for dismissing our responsibility.  I used to think Jesus was the way, and so I tried to live my life in the light of day, good and honest and correct…and then when the sun didn’t shine, I found myself tempted. Still do. But if I am honest neither the day nor the night was entirely true. In the light of day I daydreamed about the urges, and in the night I pleaded for forgiveness more often than I sinned.

Today I was thinking about how this rigid belief system made it so difficult to relate, to understand, to have compassion for myself. How this belief system - didn’t teach what was healthy without judging what was “sin,” meaning it produced fear of asking for help, meant fear of asking for understanding, meant fears of being seen, for to be seen in your sin -meant condemnation to all but Jesus -and even he might look away in agony, not hold me close… and what could be worse?

Today I am trying to remind myself that shame is a momentary feeling, a collection of thoughts and stories, some of which may not even have been the truth. Maybe there was a different perspective, a different lens, maybe you took on the responsibility because someone else refused… let you feel guilty and ashamed, because you didn’t want to blame them. There are these reminders, these alternatives, this evidence gathering… and then there is also just acceptance. A part of me is capable of acting out in ways I dislike. I don’t need to condemn the whole of me because of that… I don’t need to make the assumption that my future is dictated by something I did as a child. I can just be… what will be of this moment? Will you appreciate it? Will you open the door?  And I can also recall and ask to feel the blessings, the heavenly. I can open the doors to that myself… I don’t need to wait, or be judged, I judge -whether I open those doors or not is my choice.

I can remind myself of all of history. Of the good and kind people, and those who were not so, and how history knows very little of the difference between them. That each person is a collection of all things, and that to reduce it to good and bad… isn’t really helpful. Those I am angry with, also do good things, love people, have positive contributions to this world. I think about the patriarchs scheming and murdering and wrestling their way into the Bible. I think about the Odyssey, 2700 years ago the people considered themselves good, bad, admired and blessed by the gods, cursed and forgotten. Their deeds, war, self sacrifice, rape, pillage, torture, defense of family and country… on and on. None of them better or worse than me… and yet my ego centric mind wants to make a distinction about how I am uniquely shameful and bad, or good with a touch of a wound.

Maybe I am getting too high and mighty, thinking I can judge the world and the people’s actions. Maybe the balance of assuming you know better, is that you must also wrestle your own trespasses. What is good? What is evil? What is just being human and doing the best you can?

How do we condemn things that harm us, without doing more harm?  How do we forgive ourselves for the harm we have caused by what he have done or left undone, without letting ourselves off the hooks.  I don’t want to fall into nihilism or cynicism, and yet I don’t want to condemn myself into not acting justly either.

 

 

 

I was supposed to have three clients today, 1 cancelled. 2 were self obsessing (like I do), and I saw myself in them. Sometimes that is the blessing and curse of this job. That you realize, wait, I am talking to a different version of me right now… I too have been this way. And it is easy to recognize then, oh hello “G-d in drag” as Ram Dass would put it. There is something so beautiful and crazy about the experience of seeing yourself in another. Sometimes it feels like connection, intimacy, miracle… other times like confusion, torment, fear.  

When I was fantasizing earlier about the person I wanted to apologize to, I kept thinking… I felt the anxiety that she experiences all the time, and responded by disbelieving her, controlling the situation, demanding grounding… and later felt awful for it, because she didn’t take responsibility for her own feelings/behavior, I doubled down on trying to do so. I had heard from her that she had experienced that pattern many times in her life. That she had become scared of her partners because they had become obsessive/controlling/ etc… and I felt that experience too. Afterwards, I had such pity for them, how they lost themselves, like I had… she had none. Maybe she wasn’t supposed to. I felt lied to, manipulated, betrayed and abandoned by her. She felt that way her whole life.

I sat with one client today wondering how I can get through to her that what she is focusing on right now is obsessive… and I kept remembering the times I felt like that, and couldn’t imagine that anything I said would matter. I simply pivoted to, after… you’ll need to take care of yourself so you’re not wiped out for days. She agreed.

I sat with a client who kept coming back to the idea that something was fundamentally wrong with him, maybe he’d be more successful, more capable, more able to be in relationships if that thing was fixed… I told him the thing can’t be fixed, that it would be better to focus on making progress and celebrating the things he feels good about, rather than focusing on some mysterious wound. I’ve felt that way a billion times, even today 1000? I could see in him this sadness though, this regret, what if I could be better? What if I hadn’t missed that opportunity, what if I had more capacity for love because that thing was fixed…

And all I was saying is, you wont get to better by focusing on the mysterious “bad.” Better is one step towards the goal… -do you want to be in relationship? Put yourself in relationship… do you want to work? Put yourself into work. Do you want sobriety? Focus on sobriety…  Instead we will focus on the mysterious “bad thing” and use it as an excuse for why we aren’t making the progress we want to. Do you actually want these things? Or are they just what you think you’re supposed to want?

I have been wondering about that with family… I want a family. I want closeness and connection. But do I want this family?  I always wanted to be a father. Wanted to help raise children… see them grow. But do I want to be a father?

Maybe I don’t know. Maybe I am lost in my world of living vicariously through everyone else.

On social media the other day, someone said their therapist had told them (of their anxiety), that the feeling they had where they did everything they were supposed to do but still didn’t feel satisfied, is because they were focusing on surviving life, rather than living it. Doing everything you are supposed to do to maintain, improve, keep it all together… but missing the sweetness of each of these things, because checking off a list is not life. Life is life.

I woke up late today (I wanted to be in my dreams) and beat myself up half the morning for wasting several hours of good daylight (because I didn’t have any morning appointments). Eventually I did some Spanish, walked to a restaurant for food, and got some work done… checking things off a list. But I had felt for so much of the morning like I had wasted life because there was valuable time and I wasn’t accomplishing anything.

I live my life by lists… trying so desperately to survive/be good in life, rather than just living life. Life is wild, it takes us in all sorts of directions, blesses us and curses us… and there isn’t a right way to live it. There isn’t something that I am supposed to be doing/ or have done… there is the now, and whether I am enjoying the sweetness of each moment, each mosquito bite, each watermelon slice, each overly humid and hot heavy itchy day, each relaxation of a muscle underneath the blanket, each hand held, each conversation.

I am soooo much more present in work than I am in life, and even then… uh I get so carried away with doing it right.

Oh well… this is my rant of the day. In my 42 years I’ve had this realization a dozen or a million times, taught it, forgot it, on and on. Life… sour, sweet, yucky, sexy, dull, rich… indulge in it all…

You are in this world, but not of it… as the Christians like to say. Kind of funky way of saying enjoy it while it lasts, but remind yourself of something bigger.

Tonight I am going to see Hamlet at a cidery... I think. An opportunity to indulge in life, will I enjoy it...

Two

It's around 2ish. 

I just realized I've been posting in the wrong blog for a week... oops.

I have two more appointments today that I will see from home. Next week looks like it will be a busy week. 

I'm a little thrown off right now because of the reposting thing... but I had been thinking about freedom. Freedom to be, without obligation, commitments sure, but not feeling required to stretch outside of my negotiated boundaries. 

I was thinking how nice it would be to be free of burdens and judgment I've put on myself. Like 'you don't deserve' or 'no one would like...' How that doesn't quite match up with my experiences, but I believe these old tapes anyway. How my sister's response was such a shocking revelation and demand of her own need, and not a request for relationship that feels mutual. Similarly how with my dad I am basically saying can you acknowledge that you're hurting me and take responsibility? and he is saying, "I dont agree, and can't." And therefore... I can't. Its a pretty easy equation right? 

But my whole life when faced with that equation, I've said stretch. I have a whole ass poem asking my heart to do so. Please try. 

I've been coaching others into setting boundaries, speaking up for themselves, etc... I had a client say today that she is bored and unmotivated because the world is harsh, and she has been self protecting so long that she trusts herself now... but does she know how to open up again?

I think this is the question I am settling. Can I trust myself to not stretch to accommodate others who won't stretch for me? If it's negotiated and agreed upon and given respectfully sure... but not out of obligation. 

I can't stretch anymore, and you won't either... so there will be distance between us.

In the mean time I will repair with myself. I'll try to be compassionate to the little kid inside myself who is sick of being an adult, and who didn't full trust that he could be a kid. I'll try to work with the teenager in me that wants the world to feel my pain, and I'll smile at him and reassure him that his anger has a place, but it doesn't need to hurt people. 

I'll try to grow into an adult who takes responsibility for his own feelings, needs, etc... and then asks for others to do the same. I'll learn to take risks, calculated, thoughtful, but genuine risks... so things don't get too stale. I'll keep being curious, and compassionate, and work on reducing my anger when it isn't serving me, but let it fuel me to create the changes I need or want. 

I can start to let go of my shame again... notice that nothing is promised, and that there is nothing achieved by slowing myself down with old bricks -when I don't even know what I am building. 

I'll day dream about building something again. 

I don't know what anything means. I don't have to be right. I just have to be true to myself... and invite others to do the same... and then accept that it hurts sometimes when we aren't compatible... in for a season. Then let go. 

Maybe it is time for me to move on? Maybe I need to travel the world again. 

Monday

 At 5 AM I was grateful, the light was peaking over, not quite sun rise. I said a prayer and went back to sleep.

At 6 AM I was aware of a blue sky and clouds, appreciation of opportunity, of a fresh new day. I said another prayer, went back to sleep.

At 6:30 AM  I considered that I might want to get up, since I kept waking in a positive mood. I turned over, and let my alarms do their thing.

At 6:45 I woke up from a dream in which I was engaged or married, I was amongst her family, there was some sort church component, something felt arranged, but it felt fulfilling. 

At 6:55 I woke up stil desirous of dreams and sleep. Not because I was tired, but because I wished to indulge. 

At 7 AM I woke up nervous, made a deal with myself. 

At 7:10 AM I was frustrated. 

At 7:30 AM I got out of bed, wondering why I'd let myself sleep in. I was already crabby. 

At 8 AM I was angry and defensive. I was trying to justify my actions, feeling like people were misjudging me. I was trying not to condemn myself. 

At 8:30 I was indulging in the hurt, in the belief that I'd been wronged.

by 9 am I was holding someone else's pain. 

This morning I was contemplating the consequences of my own actions.  Consequences such as isolation, loneliness, acting out. The repetition of a story in which I am the hero, or victim or villain. The repetition of the kind of story that happens in isolation -when there isn't communication or shared or negotiated understanding.

Trying to be good, to be impressive, has made me so dishonest. Protection of an image rather than what is real. How I have hurt myself and others sooo.

How ofte have I experienced things alone, my internal world, my world of dreams, of holding for others, of escaping and adventuring alone, of journaling... 

So separate, the place I am primarily is not in relationship    but

If I reached into the wound, the times in which I acted against others, and extracted that pain in the light   - would it change anything at all?

Or would I spent the next half a century trying to prove myself good again.

I wonder at what trying to be good has cost me? Is my anxiety just a symptom of trying to control the narrative? I can't be the best, I don't know how to show up honest, so I just avoid... or withdraw... so I don't have immediate consequences?   I responded to my step sister, I don't know how to be a good uncle... and could add, a good brother, a good son, a good lover, a good therapist, a good man. I don't know how. I try... or at least I think I am trying... it is not enough. I am judged sometimes for my actions, and sometimes for my inactions.  I have only the models I have seen, and read about, and I have struggled with them... sometimes because they don't align to my lived experience... other times because they insist nothing is  good.... and I want it to be good. And others want me to be good. But I can't be good. I can only be mixed, unclear, hypocrite wanting things to be better, but not knowing how to make them better.  

How can I love myself and others simultaneously?  How can I act with love, when I don't feel loved. 

My sister reaches out to say I am an idiot and throwing a temper tantrum, but she did not reach out to say "hey, it must be so hard... if you're not showing up, that must mean its really hard... how can I help?"

She tried once. Twice was too much. 

The consequences of my actions... are that I could so easily disappear and it would affect so few people. My current clients, sure. But that's just a role. My family... yes and now. A couple of friends. 

My friend reaches out to me from New York and says 'whats your address, I need to send you my keys." 

The keys and trust of someone's life... and I tell this story that I am all alone... its so mismatched. But the truth is also that I will be in New York with her cat, but basically alone for a week, filling my days with the things that make me come alive... and then going to bed without anyone but G-d and a blog to tell. 

Sunday alone

 I woke up fairly early. Missed E. Something about a weekend spent alone, going through my routines alone, preparing for the week alone. By 10 when church came on YouTube, I was ready to leave. Went to get groceries. The air quality is unhealthy again. It smelled like chemicals in the garage. It spelled like campfire at cub. Buying groceries for myself and it’s still over 100$.

I got home cut up a watermelon, a cucumber, a green pepper, a chicken.  Ate lunch and decided to go see a movie. Surrounded by people but feeling very alone. 

I liked the movie. Nolan’s version of the odyssey. It was entertaining throughout, but the thing I loved the most was the tie in to moral injury/ptsd - told through the god’s punishments, and the impending doom… whether it was of this world or otherworldly, it spoke of consequences for your actions external or internal. 

I cried. 

I left. I ate watermelon and did laundry. It’s about 6pm. 

I’ll make dinner. Maybe read. I’ll wake up to another week of this. Maybe seem hamlet on Wednesday. Maybe go to an open mic. Maybe see family. 

This morning, I wondered why I am doing any of this… what allegiance do I owe to this place and these routines, that sustain me but feel so lonely. Why not travel the world? Why not be more adventurous. And of course when I do those things I am also alone… but maybe seeing more than the same old places, the same people, the same tasks and thoughts… 

I dunno. I always leave in search of something new, to run from something old. I am very odyssean I guess. Maybe that’s why the movie felt real. Trying to be moral, but failing, trying to be a leader and take responsibility for others choices, trying to defy the gods, trying to find a home that you want to deserve, but aren’t sure you do. So you stay away with your lotus petals… wait for some rescue. 

Saturday

 My step sister called me out this morning. Mostly for not showing up. But also for not figuring things out… I corrected the story a bit, but agreed that I wasn’t doing a good job of showing up. I asked her to help with the brainstorming. How can I engage without it feeling like it hurts me, or causes additional burden for them.

I’d been wondering… am I just being self-righteous. Is it just a different version of the self righteousness that my rents have?  Not any different? But the more I’ve been thinking about it, no. I am not fighting for my comfort, or my ideals… I am fighting against things that are actually causing harm. And maybe they personally aren’t the ones causing the harm, but their attitude of neutrality, of “Hey I didn’t hold the gun against the back of their head” (I just didn’t say anything, and funded it… and maybe voted for it too). Their attitude of “its their own fault.” Their attitude of “both sides are in the wrong…” when again, were talking about a gross imbalance of power… We are talking about families being ripped apart, people in concentration camps, torture, violence, killing, intentional terror campaigns. Intentional retribution. You don’t need to be on the front lines to condemn the cruelty. Its easy enough to just not say “well… you shouldn’t cause disruption when you fight back against cruelty…” As in, its ok to fight back as long as your mouth is taped shut, your hands are tied behind your back, and you’re on your knees already. Sure… sure… neutral on a moving train. When they are actively harming my community, you can’t say you’re neutral. That’s as good as saying “I support you to your face, but I’ll never have your back.” Cool… well we know where we stand then.

When you watch a force attempt to dismantle the society you’ve helped build (undermining my country, my state, my city, my business, my community, my students and clients…), and the family you love -literally friends and family who are being hurt by this… and the future potential and opportunities of your own grandchildren… and none of that causes you to want to stand up.  All respect, all trust gone. When you double down, say you’re the victim despite the active harm being perpetrated on others… na… that’s just gross.

My sister called it a temper tantrum, pointed out there was no end game in this boundary setting. I said I tried to explain… they didn’t want to change. I am not gonna make myself miserable for people who don’t want to care. I am not gonna cry all week, while they pretend nothing has changed. Boundaries for myself… because I am not willing to be hurt when it doesn’t benefit me to stay in relationship. For now, I will have to love them from afar. I’ve been clear with my Dad. Maybe I need to be clear with the rest of the family… but I have also been trying to protect them from this. Tried to keep it between me and the rents… but maybe it isn’t. Automatically. I mean, I am mad that they would support people who are destroying the environment and the country. What world are you preparing for your grandkids? But even if you cant… why condemn those who are fighting back?