One of the few things about journaling here rather than livejournal that annoys me, is I canâ€™t respond directly to peopleâ€™s comments. Although Iâ€™m not sure what Iâ€™d say to you all, saying thank you doesnâ€™t seem to even come close to how much they mean to me. It shocks me that people care that much that they will respond with such kindness and wisdom. I want you all to know I donâ€™t just read them but take them on board, think about what you all said, and use them as outside observations, from people that arenâ€™t stuck in my craziness to give me a broader view of things.
I got my literature review sent in. It really isnâ€™t my best work. Part of me knows I think that with everything I do, but this time it felt rushed, felt lazy. Iâ€™m not freaking out, well not majorly. Because it isnâ€™t the final draft. I had in these first full drafts and get feedback so I can change and add to it before I submit the final thesis that gets graded. So even if Susan pulls me on its crappy work, it wonâ€™t mean Iâ€™m going to fail. I can never work out if something I write is good enough, it always feels inferior, feels like failure. I try to remember that my supervisor gives me good feedback, I tell myself sheâ€™s not lying, not trying to be generous, that she would have nothing to gain from telling me Iâ€™m doing good work. But fuck its hard. And right now thereâ€™s this constant screaming to quit, to give up, who do I think I am.. all that crap. Itâ€™s what I do, I quit, I run away. But I know I wonâ€™t, I promised myself this time I would do this thing. I donâ€™t worry that Iâ€™m going to quit, I just worry someoneâ€™s going to catch on what a complete fake I am and run me out of town.
I had a little bit of a laugh last night. I was watching episodes of season three of United States of Tara. I know so many people donâ€™t like that show, but for me its just entertainment. I watch it the same as I watched those CSI type shows, its fun but so not a documentary. Anyway there was a scene that just made me remember an experience that happened years ago in my 100 level Human Development lecture. I had a really close friend back then (that ended really badly but nevermind), at the time she was really accepting and helpful with my multiplicity, and tolerant of it, even though it was all over the place. I remembered saying to hear as we walked out of a lecture one day â€œman I donâ€™t remember a single part of that lectureâ€. She laughed at me and held up her arm, all over her hand and lower arm were pictures of flowers drawn in different coloured pens. She said about 5 minutes into the 50 minute lecture, someone very young and distressed came out, and because she couldnâ€™t get us out of the lecture she set about distracting and comforting her quietly, and that ended up with her having flowers drawn all over her.
As I said, that friendship didnâ€™t survive the insanity of me, or my lack of experience with taking on and maintaining relationships. But I remember at the time feeling so accepted. I felt I had someone who could see us, truly as people with our own needs and was willing to meet us at that place. It helped a lot, and yes I miss that now. I donâ€™t want to be just my â€œdisordersâ€, just the crazy person, just the multiple, I know I am more than that. Ok the things I am are odd, but Iâ€™m ok with that. I love that I get excited by academic study, I love that I geek out on certain tv shows, I love that I am fascinated and in love with words, and all the other things that generally place me just outside the norm. But one of those things is that I is actually we, and we are actually different from each other, not just versions of the one. I miss that part of the I being acknowledged.
As Iâ€™ve said before sometimes I wish my craziness was more acknowledged. This craziness is different from my multiplicity, they are different things, although, of course, my craziness makes my multiplicity unstable at times. Anyway… ha, talk about being heard. I started writing this because I had to go down to the University to get my pg-dip diploma. They have been holding it for about 18 months, and were basically demanding I come and collect it. I can understand their annoyance, but where I would have to go is like high trigger mindfield for my anxiety shit. So I wrote back and politely explained that I have an extreme anxiety disorder so while I will get there I asked if they can wait a while for me to work up a way to collect it. I thought, well ok I thought the worst, I thought they were going to get pissy. Then as I started to write this I got another email from the woman, saying with consideration of my circumstances she is more than willing to courier it to me, to save me having to find a way to collect it. So yes, when people take my issues into consideration, to acknowledge they are obstacles most people donâ€™t have, it makes me feel.. I donâ€™t know, setting aside all the guilt and shame that the crap is currently throwing at me, putting that to the side as read, it makes me feel acknowledged, feel like Iâ€™m not fighting in the dark. I remember getting really annoyed once and saying that no one expects my blind cousin to drive a car because everyone else can and it would be easier if she drove herself somewhere. I often feel Iâ€™m being made to drive that car, that I need to just get over it and pretend so no one else is disrupted. Then someone does this for me, does a small step more than required because she acknowledged I had an extra obstacle others donâ€™t.