There are words that I cannot say, or have great difficulty saying. I know them unconsciously, but part of me cannot admit them. Then I can think them, but not utter them to another. Then I take courage, and utter them; and then it becomes easier. Telling you makes it easier, but is not the same as saying these things out loud to another person.
I find it hard to admit that anything I do or think of doing is difficult.
I want to turn my life around– and that is more like a super-tanker than the knob on a cooker.
In shame, I hid away, and tried to conform.
-Conform with what?
-With an idea of what is normal, which is not necessarily shared by anyone else- it is influenced by others but is my own. That is why I had my balls cut off, why that pleased me so much at the time, and now I am kicking myself because my ideal was not real, and I should have realised that.
I am highly intelligent, unreconciled to a lifetime of Not Getting It. I am unwilling to admit that to myself. A jingle:
This is living
what I need to know
Only knowing I was wrong
a year or ten ago.
If I can’t realise I am wrong, then I can’t realise I am right. If I change my mind I must have been wrong before, always wrong, and it is more complex. I have different understandings. I have been badly screwed up, and my work of disentangling myself is bringing these things to consciousness. A counselling session is a good place to do that, and I type notes at the time because I want to remember it exactly and not vaguely.
I don’t know what I meant by the note “Life now”.
I voice-recorded this session. I heard my long pauses, sometimes of several minutes, my failures to remember words, my joking and my struggle to find the truth. My hurt.
I will go on holiday.
-Let’s talk about something else.
-Well, we were talking of my whole way of being over fifty years, and now about specific interactions with other people for a week.
Four people aware of our otherness, wishing not to be noticed particularly. We will be quiet and decorous. We will face the problems of what is worth doing and how to do it with comfort and pleasure together. They can empathise by working out what they might feel in a similar situation rather than by mirroring. He will also have things which he finds difficult to think about, talk about, all those things one cannot acknowledge even to onesself.
Why go on holiday anyway? It is possible to find interesting and pleasant things to do, but requires effort. I am in conventional ideas of what is good or desirable. We went to Mafra where there was this painted plaster sculpture of men in armour beheading monks. There was one with his head detached, one kneeling to be beheaded, and two others waiting to be beheaded. WTF is that about? It is repugnant but interesting, a vile man who said I’m King and I can do what I like.
-I hear your awareness of them as different sorts of people, and I’m curious: how aware are they of you, and how do they hold your difference. I hope you might not be totally conventional with them.
I can relax with them. I got drunk in that wee restaurant, and then we walked home through the village, of large houses in commuting distance of Lisbon. They all have guard dogs so we walked home with this continuous chorus of dogs.
That was- different. Interesting. I don’t know that every moment will be delightful, but what is interesting is delightful.
I typed that, and immediately began questioning it in my mind. The next thing I typed was, Life is terrifying.
And I want to say to her what I want and I can’t. At least I can admit that to Tina.