Vulnerability

It's funny that I originally started this blog basically to show pictures of the kids to friends and family who don't live close to us. But, once in a while, it becomes some kind of therapy session for me. I really planned for it only to be about the kids, pictures, stories about things that happen to them, etc. But, sometimes, I feel this need to write something about me. I have always had a need to put words down on paper. I make lists, I write poems, I write stories, but for some reason, I hate keeping a journal. It just doesn't work for me. I guess I feel bad when I go a long time without writing something down, and then feel like I need to write down all the "background" to go along with the story. Maybe that's why the blog is better. I can just write what I am thinking, get it out, and forget it--instead of thinking that I have to explain myself in case my kids (or their therapists!) ever read it.

Anyway--I have been doing a lot of "mental" work on myself since we got here. Part of it is due to the Weight Watchers process--I really want to change my entire self, so that I won't go back to former habits when I get to my goal weight. And, I guess that has carried over to the rest of my brain. Also, since this is a very low key assignment for us, I don't have the constant mental strain of deployments, possible deployments, cancelled deployments, comparing deployments, etc--so maybe my brain has time to work on itself now. Thirdly, right before we left Europe (and the reason we left, actually) I was so VERY VERY hurt by the way we (directly, S., and therefore indirectly, me) were treated, that I still have not gotten past it. I think it has been the biggest event in our entire marriage, career, and adulthood actually, since the first two have completely encompassed the third.

So--here's something I've been thinking about. Vulnerability. I do not like it. In fact, I don't allow it in myself. I would not say that I consider it a weakness, because that would imply that I don't approve of it in others, which is not the case. Quite the opposite. I envy it in other people. I, for some reason or many reasons, just seem to have forbidden myself from ever APPEARING vulnerable. I say appearing, because the fact is, that I feel SO VERY vulnerable all the time. So, what am I doing? Putting on a charade all the time? I don't know. I don't feel like that, but perhaps.

Vulnerability seems to include two "branches" for me. Embarrassment and need. I hate both. I hate embarassment for myself and anyone else. I get "embarrassed for other people" a lot. I hate april fool's day, practical jokes, food in my teeth, etc. As for need--I don't like to ask for help. I don't like to be new at anything, because it implies that I need someone to show me something or answer a question or give me directions or whatever. I am great at being the "welcoming committee" for other people, though! I love helping people who are new. I actually have a test for myself. I know that I actual feel at home somewhere the first time someone asks me for directions, and I am able to give them to them!

What is the point of this? The point is that once in a while, I would like to be able to lean on someone else. Really take comfort in someone else's presence, and not feel guilty or ashamed about it. Also, there are times when I really am vulnerable, and need someone or something and no one realizes it. The best example I can think of is having babies. S. is so accustomed to me handling everything on my own, it just never occurred to him to give me instruction, encouragment, etc. He basically just waited until I told him what I wanted or needed, and did that. I'm not downplaying his contribution--doing that was great. I just wish I had had someone to say "Look in my eyes. Do what I say. Breathe when I tell you to." etc.

I think the obvious reason that a therapist would give you would be that I am the oldest child from divorced parents. I didn't like my first stepmother and she didn't like me, and I spent a lot of time protecting myself and my brother from her. Also, I was not allowed to cry when we came home from visiting. I literally got in trouble if my face was red or my eyes were swollen. So--I think I learned early to constantly be on the lookout for upcoming trouble. Head it off, divert it, or find a way to completely destroy it. The result of that is that there is always some enemy in my life. It takes a lot of energy.

Usually, during this "brain work" phase of my life, I am able to realize something like this about myself and it is gone. I don't have to "work" on it or whatever. It's like the realization of it destroys its power over me, and it is just gone. (That is also a pattern in my life--problem is that I can't just LISTEN and learn. I have to experience it myself. Self help books, therapy sessions, marriage workshops, etc. are all a waste of time for me, unless they spark some "self analysis." Wastes a lot of time. . .)

For some reason, this won't go away. I don't know why. I don't even know what the "measure" of it going away would be. I am not really in any situation where I am vulnerable, so how do I know. I think because the "enemies" are still there, taking up my energy, time, and thoughts. And, because the catalysts still make me angry. Or sad. Depends on the mood.

Maybe the fact that I was so small when it first started made it sort of an instinct in me. Maybe it isn't something that I even CAN change. I think the thing that makes me the most upset is the sense of powerlessness. For example, when we left Europe (I will give more details on that in a minute so it will make more sense.) So MANY things went into the fact that I was so hurt. But the people involved didn't know HALF of the details. And yet, they made their decisions, and formed their opinions, and broke my heart in the process. I can't let it go. I so badly want to MAKE them listen to all that was involved. And force them to understand what they did to me. I know they don't like me after all of that. That is fine--I don't need them to like me. I have plenty of friends. In fact, that specific situation spelled out VERY CLEARLY who my REAL friends were. I don't need them to like me, I just want them to know what they did to me.

THE REMAINDER OF THIS POST HAS BEEN REMOVED BECAUSE I HAVE BEEN ADVISED THAT IT COULD BE OFFENSIVE OR HURT SOMEONE'S FEELINGS, OR HEAVEN FORBID, MAKE THINGS WORSE WITH THOSE IT WAS ABOUT. I HAVE SAVED IT, HOWEVER, IN THE INTEREST OF FURTHERING THE "BRAIN WORK."