May. 20th, 2009

evilkate: (Default)
This article, despite the thoughts of many right-wing commentators, is generally well-written and thoughtful. The author manages to show all the angles without revealing any serious prejudices. Made me smile.

As for the parents - how amazing are they? As to the child - my namesake - I wish I'd been brave enough to speak out at that age.

Kate Out
evilkate: (Default)
Okay - the 'day' I mentioned previously, ambiguously, is only 2 sleeps away now. Strangely, over the last few days I've been feeling stronger. The closer the 22nd moved, the more it felt as though I might be entering a watershed moment - breaking an eye and finally seeing a new view. Taking some control back. Which is all true - to a degree - but maybe not to the extent I hope for. Maybe not quite yet.

It's strange. I realised, a few days back that the kitchen cupboards; general closets; linen pantry and all such 'storage' spaces - well, I haven't touched them since that day in 2004. I haven't cleaned or sorted or reorganised any of them. I think the events - the one, as yet, unspoken and the mess in these spaces is connected.

I probably don't understand all of the psychology involved. We rarely do regarding ourselves. I have, however, noticed an ironic comparison. I'm clean and tidy at my surface (usually - barring the occasional emotional spill) and so is the house. Both are well-maintained and seem altogether well presented, until you start fossicking around in the hidden spaces. In those, everything is messy and untended - in both the house and myself.

I have begun sorting and cleaning through the cupboards etc in the house - a good sign, another movement into taking back some control. To be fair to myself, I've also been doing that emotionally for a while, in myself: seeing a psychologist; now seeing a psychiatrist about the 2004 stuff directly; getting out more and finding myself among good friends. Learning to trust people again.

But somehow, cleaning these hidden spaces in the house has been a huge shift. It's something tangible. Something that, once done, is visibly done. It's easier to see the changes in a physical environment. Much easier than finding the same within oneself.

But - as I mentioned near the start of this post - while I do feel stronger, I can't ignore the brittleness beneath it all. I'm still a little raw and fragile. This became particularly obvious when I lost my temper in a chatroom and stormed off. I'm not excusing my bad behaviour, just realising how thin-skinned I am becoming as the 22nd nears. It's stupid. But it is what it is.

I never lose my temper. It's the one emotion I rarely spill. I tend more to rational discourse; to thinking through something and, to a degree, being able to see most sides of an argument and argue from consensus, not ideology. That isn't to say I don't fight hard for things I believe - just that I'm not, usually, prone to using "I'm right, you're wrong!" debating techniques.

I said I never lose my temper - but of course I do ... just very rarely. If someone annoys be gravely - and I know argument will not resolve anything - I am prone to withdrawing and just raising the 'cone of silence' :) - passive aggressive ... me? :P

But today I really lost it. I just saw red - literally - and terminated further discussion in an intemperate manner. All that with a friend too. And I can't say all the above to them, because it just looks like excusing bad behaviour. I own my actions.

So - here I am - having realised how brittle the moments around me are. Hopefully it changes after Friday (22nd) and I can find a way to swallow my pride and return to the chatroom; take all my pills, including moderator expressions of discontent and apologise to the target of my outburst.

Taureans. We're famous for being both stubborn and prideful. I despise losing my temper as I did and it's not easy when I do, because I'm usually the last to one forgive myself.

Most of all I despise having to say the whole "I'm fragile" thing. It's stupid and akin to victim-speak. I have always refused to be a victim but ... I don't know how I reconcile that with,  how any honest view of myself must accept those fragilities.

Typing this has not been easy. I managed only by reminding myself of how I vowed to live this honest life thing.

This is one of those also rare moments, where I wonder about the value of Honesty. Whether it's worth it after all.

Kate Out


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