I want to blend into the background in the most eye-catching way possible.
So Philip told me, referring to what I was wearing- ugly, dull, unusual. I now take this phrase as symbolising yet another of my incompatible desires. Loving totally different things is liberating when they are compatible, as I love the country and the city, and sometimes debilitating, as when I wanted to express myself female and wanted to make a man of myself, which I could only eventually reconcile by deciding to transition.
He might not have meant this, but it still fits what I want- to stand before an audience with a microphone, and to hide away from sight, at home. To blog my most personal feelings and hide behind a screen. The high from the microphone made re-entry after painful, especially when I did not know what it was. Knowing it, I might deal with it. And I can do both.
I wonder if one of these is more a reaction to circumstances, and the other in some way my state resisting those influences. Both would be “Real me”- real me is a phantasm. I have to live amid those circumstances and influences. But the time when I am most susceptible to such influence is as a child, and I might hide away my propensities under a censure which is now only in my own mind, and not in my society.
Writing on 30 January: I will live with this, and see if other understandings come to me.
Wanting attention could be primeval, the baby wanting mother’s attention. Hiding was my mother’s way, and also H’s: she told me almost no-one knew her as well as I do, except her wife. It seems cowardly, inadequate, wrong- so wanting attention could be over-compensating. Does either fit who I am, now?
31 January: Why would children act up for attention, even hostile attention? Because humans interact, and they need to learn how, and test themselves against adults.
22 February: Now, after my terror yesterday, I am fully in hiding from the world mode, which feels depressive and boring and uncreative, yet right now is what I want. No particular new understanding has come to me this month, just awareness of conflicting desires and dissatisfaction.
23 February: I am “a bit depressed, actually”- that is, depressed. From here, it feels going on stage, or even just interacting, is risky; childish attention-seeking, in which I miss the point, and make an idiot of myself. I must remember the warm applause of a hundred people at Greenbelt.