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Foggy head

Posted by beansy , 13 February 2013 · 30 views

Not sure if this is normal (but what is normal anyways?). Every time I think about writing a paper or getting focused on school my brain just fogs up. It's like dissociation - my brain just fogs up and I can't think, I don't feel present.

I remember feeling like that in high-school. Being so absorbed and constantly damaged by spending time with my stepfather and my mother who lived on a different planet altogether. Trying to focus in school and failing. Not caring, not being able to care. It just seemed so unimportant comparatively.

Right now it just feels like slogging through the mud mentally. It's not that I'm feeling 'overwhelmed' because I only work three days a week. I just disconnect when I think about writing or working on school.

There was once that I was pulled right out of school by my stepfather because he had trashed the entire house and didn't know who else to call. I took a cab there, and he had literally smashed everything.. there was red splashes of spaghetti sauce all over the place, and our heavy wood family dining table was turned over on its side. My mother had fled and I waited around until the cops arrested my stepfather. It was so frightening. The cops refused to take me home to my dad's place, they just drove me to school. I didn't hear from either of them for weeks after that.

No news, no "I'm OK", nothing. I had to call them over and over until they finally answered.

I wonder if memories like that have any role in my inability to focus on school, my dissociation from it.

I'm also studying Modernist poetry right now, which reminds me of this inappropriate relationship that I had when I was 15, between me and a 47 year old man. I met him through work and he used to ask me to dress up in outfits for him that he'd gotten me. He'd take me out all the time and my father never said 'no'. He lavished me with gifts so I'd spend more time with him. His favorite poet was TS Eliot, and I first started studying poetry because of him. Until I met him I wasn't interested in anything cultural really. I told him that I had been abused and asked him if he thought of me romantically. He said no, he never would. I trusted him. I stopped talking to him for a month because he said he was in love with me and I told him I couldn't reciprocate. When I tried to talk to him again he was so cold. Like another person. I depended on him so much as a friend, and he seemed to truly care about me. I lost my job because of him. At his best friend's funeral I tried to hug him, but he refused to even recognize who I was - I hugged him anyways and he didn't hug back. He just stood there.

I'm writing an essay on TS Eliot right now actually. That may have something to do with why I'm living in a fog about it.

He was wrong. He shouldn't have been spending all his time with a 15 year old anyways. It was an inappropriate relationship and I wasn't to blame for it. My father should have said no, he should have protected me. My mother should have even known what was going on in my life at the time, but she never asked - didn't care. My stepfather wasn't talking to me because he told me he didn't want to "be a pervert anymore" so we no longer spoke to each other. No one was there to protect me. I just wanted a friend, and a role model. And he failed me.

So hard coming to terms with all the failures of adult family members in my life. Can't believe so many people dropped the ball. Like I wasn't worth caring for at all. Like I was just a burden that they had to deal with until I was an adult myself. But instead of feeling like an adult now, I still feel like that same little girl, wanting desperately for someone to say "I love you, I *want* to take care of you." Someone who won't get a hard-on from taking "care" of me.

Since I've been 11, the only people who have actively taken care of me who aren't interested in putting their penis into me is one person: my best friend's mom. She loves me and cares for me, and has tried to convince me out of things that are bad for me. My dad cares for me too, but not emotionally. He just took care of food and medicine. Which I'm grateful for. But I feel this huge need to feel loved as a non-sexual person, as a person who is *worth* taking care of.

I think my T cares about me, but I have to pay her haha.

I wish I could be non-sexual, like of neither gender. So I could befriend someone and take care of them and have them take care of me and not worry at all about the complications of sex.

June 2016

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