Ah Terry I feel bad again, and about what I said the other day, about being thought badly of, like I am bad, a bad girl for not being out there in life. You know, like I should be productive, and a participating member of society; you know, like someone who pays their tax, someone who contributes, someone who is not lazy sitting around all day reading books and playing with kittens. I don’t put in and I feel worried that someone will come and accuse me of being bad for not being like everyone else - a functioning member of society, someone everyone likes because ‘we’re all doing our bit’.
Shit I feel like I’m not doing my bit for the war effort, like how Granny used to talk, how they all had to do their bit, all to help the country, to help support the young men - the soldiers. And those men that didn’t want to go to war and fight were looked down upon, you know how women would give them white feathers or white something or other, I can’t remember what she used to say.
And I feel like everyone will know that I’m letting the side down, and I’ll have to walk around with a sign around my neck being paraded up and down the main street so everyone can stone me and call me names and vent all their venomous hatred on me.
Like being a witch or someone who doesn’t fit in with the norm and so the norm seeks to destroy them, that’s something of how I feel.
And I keep feeling guilty for not going into town and joining some help thing, or just volunteering to work at the op shops. And every time I go in I feel like they are going to say ‘and don’t you think it’s time you came to help us... and what do you do all day anyway, sitting at home doing nothing, not contributing, we’ve all got to help each other you know, it’s no good you sitting at home all day reading your books and playing with those two kittens.’ And yet that’s exactly all I want to do. And I don’t like the thought of leaving the kittens alone all day while I go off to look after other people - I don’t want to neglect my own people. I want to be here for them, and even though they’ve got each other, still I enjoy being with them, and they won’t be kittens for very long. And I don’t want to miss out on seeing their growing up; and I think of all those mothers who are so busy never having the time to stop and just be with their children. And then in no time their children have grown up and it’s all gone, the whole childhood; and probably so many of them if asked wouldn’t be able to remember too much of it. And I feel like I want to savour it, savour watching then growing up. I find I’m sitting for hours just watching them, totally enthralled. And then before I know it you’re home from work and the day has passed. And when I’m not feeling bad about it, I love it Terry, I’ve never enjoyed myself and my life more, it couldn’t be better during those times of peace and marvelling at their antics and playfulness.
But then up come those guilt feelings again and I start chastising myself, telling myself off for being selfish, over indulgent, all those things other people say about mothers who do love being with their children as if there is something wrong with it, and the children will grow up being too soft and ‘mummy’s boys’ and things like that. But all those people who take that hard line of discipline and having to bring them into line and keep them under ones thumb, it’s all so hostile and aggressive.
And that book I’ve been reading about the approach of being with your dog through love and understanding rather than beating it into submission to be how you want it to be; and how responsive the dogs are when treated the correct dog way, and not as if they are naughty children that need harsh and stern discipline to make them be obedient. I hate all that hard-line attitude and approach now, but they are the sorts of people I fear will not tolerate my being disobedient and my not falling into line and being the good citizen and doing all what they think and believe that is.
And when I go into town I think they are looking at me and talking about me behind my back, and I feel guilty and think I shouldn’t be there and don’t want to be there, but then I chastise myself again for not being strong and brave and not standing up defiantly to them and telling them where to go. And like how you were talking about your suicide feelings the other day, this too is all in my own mind. And it all goes on like an inner dialogue: There she goes, that good-for-nothing, look at her, and who does she think she is, thinks she’s better than us she does, she sits around all day long doing nothing but watching those two kittens of hers, she’s a bit daft in the head because who’d want to do that, she should smarten herself up, pull her socks up, and come down to the co-op and help out or go and help at Vinnies, they are desperately short staffed and needing volunteers.’ And it goes on and on like a song going on in the background of my mind.
And it’s as if I am then standing on the side of the road looking at myself walking along. And I’m them talking about me to each other. And I can see they are all bits I’ve probably picked up from television and the movies, because half of them have English accents and I’ve not know anyone like that, and I don’t think there were those sorts of people in my early life.
But I feel so hated by them, loathed, and then I have another record playing saying: Ah don’t take any notice of them lassie, they’re just jealous old hags, they are; and the truth be known, they too would love to be sitting at home doing nothing but looking at their wee kitties.’ And I have no idea why the Scottish accent, but I used to like hearing it when I was little girl as a friend of dad used to speak like that.
But I’ve got all this shit going around and around and it’s getting louder and louder, I don’t need to have the radio going, I only need to tune into my own mind. Talk about having voices in your head. Next thing I’ll be thinking I’m hearing Jesus or God speaking to me.
But in all seriousness Terry, I’m actually scared of it, what if I’m losing my mind or something like that, and I am going mad. You don’t know, do you, what might happen to you. And as we’re all so fucked, god at any moment something might snap within you or it might just steadily creep up within you and next thing you know you’re frothing at the mouth and howling to the moon.
It does scare me Terry, maybe we shouldn’t be doing all of this deep work on ourselves without any professional guidance. Maybe we’re taking a bit too much on, screwing around with our own minds. What do you think?
I think to hell with it, I’m all for keeping on going, and if we crack or lose it - lose the plot, and they have to lock us up in the Funny Farm, so be it. I’ve been taken way past what I now call normal life. So who knows Annie. And the further I go with you, although I do feel more demented the deeper I go into my bad feelings, when I come out and have a reprieve I do feel so much better within myself for it. And I can see how although it might be hard for us, still I think it’s helping us no end. I’d much rather have all this shit out of me than festering away inside me. And the thing that did it for me is understanding that it is all in me, it’s not as if I’m just making it up; and so whether I work on it now with you or put it off until some other time, even if that’s after I die and in spirit if we do go on, then it’s still just there waiting for me. So I may as well go mad with it all now as then, and for all I know, life in the Funny Farm might be funny. It might be better deluding yourself that you’re talking to Jesus or God then driving around all day long trying to flog yet more ‘product’ and thinking about driving off every cliff you go close to.
So fuck it, I’m all for pressing on. However if you do want to some professional help, well why not, they might help you gain some perspective on it all, to help you know if you are going mad or if it’s just normal. They’d surely have some experience about these sorts of things.
Yes, and thank you Terry once again for your support. That makes me feel better. And as you say, fuck it, and like you said, I kind of like the idea of being in the Funny Farm, and being mad anyway. It’s all mad, all we call normal is fucked and mad, so perhaps being mad and locked away is normal and the right way to live and the right place to be in.
And it is good to know that you’d be okay about it if I did want to get some professional help, but for now I just want to keep going as we’re doing. And the more we can talk about it all the better I feel too.
Good. I don’t want to give up yet. And although I’d understand if you did, if it all became too much for you and you needed to stop; and although when I feel really bad stopping is all I want to do, still I hope you keep going because I do need your help and support a lot.
We need it from each other, don’t we?
We do, which is something I’m slowly appreciating more. It all seems to take time, but so long as I feel like I’m still progressing within myself and growing in truth and my personal understanding of myself and about it all, then I feel good about it, and that surely can’t be that wrong or bad when compared to living being completely shut out from your own feelings and totally unaware of all the deeper parts of yourself that are there. And I don’t want to go back to living how I used to live. No, as I’ve said I think a few times now, that old Terry is fading away. The shit-scared, stupid idiot Terry is coming more up, but hey, if that’s how I really am underneath all my false put-on bullshit, well then that’s how I am. And as I am that way, and can’t do anything about it other than keep accepting it’s me and speaking about all I feel about being this way - what being my true fucked self feels like, then so be it. And I’d rather get to know myself than keep hating myself and having to hide all my bad and yuk parts, desperately trying to pretend they don’t exist whilst shitting myself that someone is going to suddenly shine the spot light on me, exposing me for being the worm-slime sham Terry I am.
So as much as I hate seeing what a yuk I am, still I’m beginning to have more sympathy for myself, feeling sorry for myself rather than dumping all over myself criticising and carving myself up into little no-good pieces.
I like what you’re saying Terry and all of that helps me too. So we agree to press on, that’s fine with me, not that you were saying you didn’t want to keep going.
I see that where in it together Annie, and even though I can’t connect and join up truly with you as you’d like, and like what sounds good to me, I’m here with you and together with you in some way. And as that’s the best I can do for now, maybe one day when I’ve worked more on myself and if I ever heal myself, then I will be more how you say you’d like me to be. It’s something to aim for at least, and even possibly to look forward to, if we can finish our healing.
I think we can Terry, but it might take us into spirit to do it. But I feel okay about that too. It’s certainly a different way of life, that’s for sure, and even though I feel like shit most of the time, increasingly I’m preferring it to any other way of life I’ve known or seen or read about.
Yes, it certainly is something different, a whole different approach. And like you say, it is very hard, but also rewarding, which is something I’m just beginning to become more aware of. But don’t ask me to try and explain how I mean rewarding because that’s a bit beyond me at the moment.
I understand what you mean, and I feel the same way. I don’t know that I would say I enjoy doing my healing, but I agree it is rewarding. And I do feel gradually better and better about myself, and those feelings I do enjoy, they do make me feel good.
Terry I think I’ve had enough for the day, what say we go to bed, these two look like they are ready for it.
Fine with me Ann. And Ann, thank you for all you’ve helped me with, and for putting up with me and all my silliness and stupidity. As I’ve said, no way would or could I have done any of it without you.
Well you’re welcome Terry Arnold, and I thank you too for putting up with me and all my shit and my pulling you up and picking you apart. Come on, you can carry them to the bedroom.
Come along you two, K1 and K2, we’re going to bed. You’ve still got to come up with proper names for them Ann.
Why do I have to do it, you can think of them too.
Okay, I know, how about Ann and Terry junior, there you go, how’s that?
Are you serious. God no I couldn’t bear that. You’ll have to do better than that Terry... what about... Zetty and Zac... or... Ray and Mage... or... Kitty and Kat... or...