From my journal for June 16, 1996<\/p>\n
I\u2019m playing Darrone because if I think of this as a battle, as a shamanic ordeal, then it\u2019s easier to do.\u00a0 <\/span>Otherwise I think of myself as a hypersensitive coward who freaks out at stuff that most people don\u2019t even notice.\u00a0 <\/span>I\u2019ve got the earphones on my head, because I get so little warning, but not in my ears because it\u2019s painful.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
Darrone is a warrior’s dance from Armenia.<\/p>\n
Bottom lines:<\/p>\n
(1) My hearing shows a distorted pattern.
\n\u00a0 <\/span>The AIT is designed to correct that pattern.
\nWe don\u2019t know what the results will be for my mental health.<\/p>\n(2) It\u2019s OK to be scared, it\u2019s OK to not know.
\n\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 <\/span>It\u2019s OK to be not quite here.<\/p>\n(3) Personal feelings are of no consequence.\u00a0 <\/span>I\u2019m working to build a more robust personality for the next incarnation.<\/p>\n
I was wondering about my difficulty being relaxed and comfortable, my difficulty taking in good things in my life, good things that I had created.\u00a0 <\/span>I think when in my childhood did I feel safe enough to take in good things from my environment, how often was enjoyment snatched away \u2014 by mother\u2019s jealousy? that wouldn\u2019t let me have anything of my own?\u00a0 <\/span>by unpredictable alcoholic parents whose reactions had nothing to do with what was going on for me?\u00a0 <\/span>I think about events when I learned that it wasn\u2019t safe to feel comfortable with what I had: Dad helping me learn to ride a bicycle and letting go of me before I had confidence in my own abilities, laughing at the horrified look on my face.\u00a0 <\/span>I think of Mom, that day on the porch when I was glad she had something to interest her, and she turned to me with that vicious remark<\/a> and cut me to ribbons.\u00a0 <\/span>I wonder how often she did that to me in my childhood when I had some look on my face, expressive of comfort? relaxation? that she interpreted as complacency? disinterest? \u00a0 <\/span>?? \u00a0 <\/span>I\u2019ve no idea.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
Later I realized that the only thing that would have satisfied mother would have been if I had become a Colonial Dame.<\/p>\n
O yes, I was thinking about what reason did I have to expect that happiness would be snatched from my grasp, and I think about my twelve years training in this house, for four months in the summer, that it wasn\u2019t possible to be relaxed for more than a few hours before the snarl of a plane would come slamming in and catapult me into severe depression. \u00a0 <\/span>So many times when I had relaxed \u2014 It\u2019s cloudy now, or it\u2019s late in the day, surely they won\u2019t fly again \u2014 and bam! one comes out of nowhere.\u00a0 <\/span>So I learned that it\u2019s not safe to relax, I have to be always on edge, always defended, always prepared to defend myself against invasion, invalidation, and humiliation.\u00a0 <\/span>Well that does sound like my childhood doesn\u2019t it?\u00a0 <\/span>This thing with the planes is just recreating it.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
From my journal for June 16, 1996 I\u2019m playing Darrone because if I think of this as a battle, as a shamanic ordeal, then it\u2019s easier to do.\u00a0 Otherwise I think of myself as a hypersensitive coward who freaks out … Continue reading