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December 18, 2003
Twitch
Am I here to breed?
To bleed?
Or maybe I'm
Just a bead of sweat
Running down God's forehead?
The words roll and roil and boil. Pictures. Forces. Fist in my chest. Pressure behind my eyes. Hear myself breathing. The big cat paces back and forth in its cage. Tail twitches. Whiskers jump. Everything else just paces, paces, paces, paces. Always the word why, why, why, why and sometimes what. What. WHAT??? What am I supposed to be figuring out...remembering? Why can't I don't I won't I? And people want to know are you OK? Am I OK? Are you OK mom? wife? daughter? Are you OK my little blue collar worker with the college degree? Am I OK? NO. NO. HELL NO. I'M NOT. I'M NOT OK. And so what? So what? What absolutely muckscummin' graham cracker jammin' skull fractured difference does it make whether I'm OK or not? Look 'em in the eye and lie because honestly, I'm tired of talking about it. Just stuff it honey girl. Just tuck it down 'round all the other stuffing. The big cat will just pack it down tight as it paces, paces, paces...paces. Twitches. Jumps. A while back someone I work with told me that I was the most "normal" person they had ever met. (DAMN I'm good.) Pace, pace, pace, pace. Twitch-and-a-jump! An old therapist/co-worker of mine told me that he'd never met anyone that was as good at completely masking their mental state as me. (DAMN, I'm so very, very good.) So sad that I'm not as good as pulling out the stuffing as I am at shoving it in, eh?
What was I thinking trying to fit myself into this normal life? This life of husband, home, children, dog, yada yada yada, la la la? I haven't had a single normal day in my entire life. Wasn't a normal girl child. Wasn't a normal teenage creature. Nothing normal. Nothing ever never ever. Since I can remember I have worked so hard to be normal. So hard. So tired. So tired. Now my hard won normal life has me completely caged. If the big cat thought life was tight when I was younger, mmmmmm baby, it's really tight now. Pace, pace, pace, pace. Twitch, jump...and...SWAT!
Posted by swift at 9:06 PM
December 14, 2003
Elephant Woman
How I hate this body. I had to have wanted it at some point before being born or I wouldn't be here. I hate it now. From almost the beginning it has been a source of pain, humiliation, fear, torture, disgust, ridicule and disappointment. I have never gotten used to this skin. Never belonged. I feel that I'm just renting it -- subletting maybe. By the end of most days I wish the real owner would just move back in and kick me out into the space time continuum. Floating would be nice. Just floating and thinking. Thinking and floating. Yeah. I could do that.
This body is awkward and never keeps up with where my head is at. It is too big and strong to be a woman's body and too big and weak to be man's body. However, my physical strength is the only thing I've ever liked about it. But the size, the size. I feel grotesque. I don't belong in 21st Century civilization. I belong behind a plow in Montana a hundred and fifty years ago. Or, maybe birthing early spring lambs in the Highlands of Scotland several hundred years ago. Something other than this teeny weeny woman life.
To compensate for feeling like the Elephant Man when I'm in public I stalk about like an entire chapter of the Hell's Angels is wrapped up in my skin. I guess it's just a continuation of the game face I began to develop in adolescence. Then, the cheerleaders barked as I walked by. Now, people just steer the hell clear as I walk by. If they feel the need to bark, they keep it to themselves.
The only comfort I've ever had is to go to that other place to a body that my mind has created. The body that fits my mind. That body is under my mind's control. Strangely though, that body isn't beautiful. That body is thin, granted, but painfully so. That body is strong, stronger than the one I have now. That body is tall, like the one I have now. That body is horribly scarred, like my mind, but unbowed. Now that I describe it, that body isn't very different than the one I have now but somehow it works better with my brain, my soul. I don't know why. Lately I've thought that one day I might just go to that other place and not come back. If the real owner of my body doesn't come back, I could just sublet my sublet.
Posted by swift at 3:25 AM