cabbitzilla (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cabbitzilla) wrote2003-08-18 02:44 pm
cabbitzilla) wrote2003-08-18 02:44 pm
Reflections & Echoes: Ellie's Afraid of the Dark...
There's been a dearth of 'postings of import' lately; my journal's been a steady flood of lemmings for the last couple weeks. If finally crystallized in the wee hours of the morning what's 'up' with that... and this could get a little long and convoluted. If the little girl behind the bouncer mask isn't of interest to you, then I'd suggest keeping moving; some of my friends are equally fond of lemmings. Try there if that's what you're looking for, yes?
It started with a seemingly random conversation with Hilfie. She's a local friend, viewed by some as a 'ditz'; a reputation she chooses to feed because it keeps the mudheads away. She's the only other gender outlaw in my main circle here locally, and one of three here that knows -all- the details to the hidden life I live; she knows more than Megan does. She's been nothing but supportive, but she's a realist; bouncing things off her is a worthwhile experience, because we can compare notes and understand each other's permission. She's also an amazingly perceptive person... when we first met and talked, being the only smokers in the reenacting group, one of her first questions was 'Why are you trying so hard to be a boy?'. It led to a much deeper conversation (we ended up missing the entire meeting we were there for; everyone inside figured we'd gone to sleep on the side steps) that laid bare most of the stuff I'm dealing with.
But the question remained unanswered. At the time, my hedge-and-evade was something along the lines of maintaining appearances until I was ready to move. It's even partly true.
But Friday, she was over here to do sewing with Megan, and while out on a cigarette break she managed to drop another bombshell question on my brain: Do you even know -who- you are anymore?
No. I don't. And that's what's kept me mostly silent for the weekend. It's not a matter of needing to 'find myself'.... it's more a matter of trying to peel away the artificial traits. As a child of five, I'd come to the conclusion that the world was not a 'survivable' place for me. I'm simply too fragile, too high maintenance, too broken... and too desperate to please and be wanted. A borderline personality at best. Given the situation with my mother and the people around me, I chose the only path that looked like it was navigable: I hid.
I hid well, too. A bit too well. I carefully built and assembled a 'mask' to wear in public, transforming myself from broken toy to emotional-but-intact boy. In past entries I've mentioned the 'void' in my memories. Just after my fifth birthday, to just before my eighth birthday, there's -nothing- [and the one psychologist who tried to pry back the edges via hypnosis unleashed a demon in his office... not only did I hide, but I set up protections as well, it seems] ... and coming out the other side was 'Don'. Emotionally volatile, loud, constant jokester, brash and gruff and (relatively) confident. A complete puppet persona to wear like an All Hallows Eve costume and fool the passerby. There were holes in it, but it worked. And over the years, I've worked like one possessed to seal all the holes... only to discover that I'd turned it into a prison.
When my health collapsed in 2000, so did large portions of the puppet. It left with with a puppet persona that was as shattered and splintered as my own, with the pieces all falling together in a weird sort of collage. I've spent the last three years trying to sift the broken shards, sorting things into mental bins labeled 'Donald' and 'Elisabeth'. Trying to sort.... none of the pieces are labeled. I wore that shell for so very long that I don't know which pieces are which anymore. So my sifting has actually been a 'useful vs non-useful' thing, with the usable bits being tossed into the Ellie basket.
But I lived in the shadows for so long that I don't know how to act when I'm not there. Some of the patterns, particularly the vocal ones, are so deeply etched that I can't find what was -really- there anymore.
And I'm afraid of what I'll find if/when I do...
You see, I... there's a fear that the bits and pieces of 'me' that folks liked, particularly the folks I consider -family-.... a fear that the pieces that brought these wonderful people to me are /false/... and that when they discover that, they'll shrug and walk away. Every time I try to tackle a new fragment, I have to deal with the fears that -this- will be the piece that shows everyone that I'm not who they thought I was. Fear that I'll lose my sisters, my Lady, the close friends who're gravitating -fast- towards family status (both of them being J's...). Fear that /EVERYTHING/ I have and see and feel is false. Fear that what I see as 'me' was ALSO a puppet, and that there's still another layer behind it. That in the end, I really will be the monstrous freak that my mother accused me of being so many years ago.
There's dissent in my mind, as well. Part says that none of this really matters; I am what I embrace, nothing else matters worth a damn, and my Family will never leave... they're faithful. Part simply wants the pain to stop, and cares not at all for the end result so long as the chaos ends. They are minorities... the bulk of my thoughts echo the paragraph above.
It's not aided by the fact that I still -am- living partially in the shadows; I can't discard the shredded pieces of Don yet. For 'appearances', I'm still being forced to wrap myself in the splinters and keep up the act. That will change once I'm out of here, but for the moment I'm very much stuck with it. I no longer feel the despair as I look around me; I have an Owner, I'll have a place to go soon enough, and chunks of this nightmare will be over. But I have trouble envisioning it... the brightness outside the shadows that've been my home are glaringly bright. I have some truly wonderful folks that I consider family... but I'm terrified that I'm -not- who I appear... and that the truth will leave me entirely alone.
Alone in the dark.
Man in the MirrorSavatage - Poets and MadmenThere's a man that I used to knowAnd sometimes he still visits with me When it's late and the alcohol's glow Is nearly gone And it's time to awaken And he looks and he laughs at the sight And he asks what has happened to me And I blame it all on the lights But he smiles and says i'm mistaken And there is no use in disguising What the eye can so clearly see That i've spent my whole life denying That the man in the mirror is me Give me one second chance Give me one final dance Give me one magic line Take a minute off my time Give me one final bow If the moment allows While he stares at the scars Saying just who you are Just who you are Just who you are In a child like illusion of life He imagined the things yet to be But they all disappeared on this night Carry on among the forsaken For there is no use in denying What the eye can so clearly see That one day I too will be dying And the man in the mirror agrees Give me one second chance Give me one final dance Give me one magic line Take a minute off my time Give me one final bow If the moment allows While he stares at the scars Saying just who you are Just who you are Just who you are Just who you... |
It started with a seemingly random conversation with Hilfie. She's a local friend, viewed by some as a 'ditz'; a reputation she chooses to feed because it keeps the mudheads away. She's the only other gender outlaw in my main circle here locally, and one of three here that knows -all- the details to the hidden life I live; she knows more than Megan does. She's been nothing but supportive, but she's a realist; bouncing things off her is a worthwhile experience, because we can compare notes and understand each other's permission. She's also an amazingly perceptive person... when we first met and talked, being the only smokers in the reenacting group, one of her first questions was 'Why are you trying so hard to be a boy?'. It led to a much deeper conversation (we ended up missing the entire meeting we were there for; everyone inside figured we'd gone to sleep on the side steps) that laid bare most of the stuff I'm dealing with.
But the question remained unanswered. At the time, my hedge-and-evade was something along the lines of maintaining appearances until I was ready to move. It's even partly true.
But Friday, she was over here to do sewing with Megan, and while out on a cigarette break she managed to drop another bombshell question on my brain: Do you even know -who- you are anymore?
No. I don't. And that's what's kept me mostly silent for the weekend. It's not a matter of needing to 'find myself'.... it's more a matter of trying to peel away the artificial traits. As a child of five, I'd come to the conclusion that the world was not a 'survivable' place for me. I'm simply too fragile, too high maintenance, too broken... and too desperate to please and be wanted. A borderline personality at best. Given the situation with my mother and the people around me, I chose the only path that looked like it was navigable: I hid.
I hid well, too. A bit too well. I carefully built and assembled a 'mask' to wear in public, transforming myself from broken toy to emotional-but-intact boy. In past entries I've mentioned the 'void' in my memories. Just after my fifth birthday, to just before my eighth birthday, there's -nothing- [and the one psychologist who tried to pry back the edges via hypnosis unleashed a demon in his office... not only did I hide, but I set up protections as well, it seems] ... and coming out the other side was 'Don'. Emotionally volatile, loud, constant jokester, brash and gruff and (relatively) confident. A complete puppet persona to wear like an All Hallows Eve costume and fool the passerby. There were holes in it, but it worked. And over the years, I've worked like one possessed to seal all the holes... only to discover that I'd turned it into a prison.
When my health collapsed in 2000, so did large portions of the puppet. It left with with a puppet persona that was as shattered and splintered as my own, with the pieces all falling together in a weird sort of collage. I've spent the last three years trying to sift the broken shards, sorting things into mental bins labeled 'Donald' and 'Elisabeth'. Trying to sort.... none of the pieces are labeled. I wore that shell for so very long that I don't know which pieces are which anymore. So my sifting has actually been a 'useful vs non-useful' thing, with the usable bits being tossed into the Ellie basket.
But I lived in the shadows for so long that I don't know how to act when I'm not there. Some of the patterns, particularly the vocal ones, are so deeply etched that I can't find what was -really- there anymore.
And I'm afraid of what I'll find if/when I do...
You see, I... there's a fear that the bits and pieces of 'me' that folks liked, particularly the folks I consider -family-.... a fear that the pieces that brought these wonderful people to me are /false/... and that when they discover that, they'll shrug and walk away. Every time I try to tackle a new fragment, I have to deal with the fears that -this- will be the piece that shows everyone that I'm not who they thought I was. Fear that I'll lose my sisters, my Lady, the close friends who're gravitating -fast- towards family status (both of them being J's...). Fear that /EVERYTHING/ I have and see and feel is false. Fear that what I see as 'me' was ALSO a puppet, and that there's still another layer behind it. That in the end, I really will be the monstrous freak that my mother accused me of being so many years ago.
There's dissent in my mind, as well. Part says that none of this really matters; I am what I embrace, nothing else matters worth a damn, and my Family will never leave... they're faithful. Part simply wants the pain to stop, and cares not at all for the end result so long as the chaos ends. They are minorities... the bulk of my thoughts echo the paragraph above.
It's not aided by the fact that I still -am- living partially in the shadows; I can't discard the shredded pieces of Don yet. For 'appearances', I'm still being forced to wrap myself in the splinters and keep up the act. That will change once I'm out of here, but for the moment I'm very much stuck with it. I no longer feel the despair as I look around me; I have an Owner, I'll have a place to go soon enough, and chunks of this nightmare will be over. But I have trouble envisioning it... the brightness outside the shadows that've been my home are glaringly bright. I have some truly wonderful folks that I consider family... but I'm terrified that I'm -not- who I appear... and that the truth will leave me entirely alone.
Alone in the dark.
no subject
You are not, and will not be alone.
no subject
ISBN 0-7679-0277-7
Read it.
Something to consider
How can I expect Ellie to be the same person she was when we met...when I'm a different person now than I was then?
As I think about it more, I realize that no one ever stays the same over time. We all change, we all become different people. But there is a link with the people in our lives who really matter. That link isn't based on the outward trappings, or even the first few layers of the inward trappings, but instead it's based on soul-to-soul contact.
No, most people don't change as much as you have and will continue to change, but change is inevitable. Sameness = stagnation, and stagnant is one thing that will never appeal to most of the people that you know. The vast majority are too creative, too quick of mind and intellect, to ever want stagnation in their lives. And, you know what? The few who can't handle the changes...well, that's really their problem, isn't it? Sure, it will create a bit of a vacuum for a while, but the joy of that is that a vacuum never stays unfilled. Others will come along and fill those empty spaces, people who will see the you that's been hiding and will be drawn to the brilliance that some of us have always known is there.
You will never be alone, and you will never be fully in the dark. Not while Shado and I are here.
Love you, sis. *HUG*
Re: Something to consider
(Anonymous) 2003-08-18 06:58 pm (UTC)(link)*hugs*
-Vulpin
No natural additives - only chemical preservatives.
I've known practically since we met that 'Don' was not really, mentally or emotionally, a boy.
For some reason it never occurred to me that Don 'the Girl' would be a different persona that Don 'The Boy.' From my point of view - Don was Don was Ellie. That making you right would ease a burden off your shoulders, but not change you from the person I've known these 6 years or so.
Probably quite short-sighted of me. The analogy I've had in my head is rather like this: Go back to a favorite childhood home after 20 years. It's the same house - but the people who've owned it since you were last there have repainted, and built on to the house. Given it new depth. It looks different, but it's really still the same.
But peeling back the onion is rather like returning to that same home and finding it's been knocked down and completely rebuilt - bearing no resemblance to the place with all the happy memories.
Doesn't mean it's not worthwhile. You just have to re-familiarize yourself with it.
Having recently been the 'victim' of someone completely changing personality on me, practically overnight, I can say this: Your change appears to be a gradual one. Those of us who love you now are seeing the change, are there to help you through it if need be. The end result is not something that will be totally foreign to us. It may be something we've had a hand in crafting (Or it may not be) - but it's a change that we've watched - not one that was thrust upon us with no warning.
You are not alone now. And I can honestly say that I have no intention of leaving you thus. But I cannot speak for what the future holds.
But I can say I love you muchly right now - and that counts for something, right?
You will get through this. You will be the person you were meant to be. That person will have friends - some reaching back into the annals of pre-history, some picked up in living memory.
I plan to be there either way - even if it means having to become your friend all over again.
-Shado
no subject
(Can't wake up) Wake me up inside
(Save me!) Call my name and save me from the dark
*huggles* This kitten, equipped with child-coloured glasses, believes that if someone loves you, they will love all of you, no matter what you become (or are but could not previously be observed). The change may take some time to be comprehended and internalized, but over time it will smooth out and everything will be just fine. That's this kitten's thoughts.
Hey You
Love,
~~Kt3 the Wearer of Masks~~
no subject
Nobody's an island even though people often group in archipelegoes *hugs*
no subject
Ryn
no subject
I love you, Ellie, with all the care and warmth I possess in my heart and arms, virtual or otherwise. I may not show up much, but I am always little more than an email away.
We're all afraid of the dark at some point...but we can always be a candle and draw more light to ourselves. Gather enough light, and even the blackest abyss seems pale.