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Maybe I'm Awakening too?
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<blockquote data-quote="Copabanana" data-source="post: 741302" data-attributes="member: 18958"><p>Well. I am right there with you. Sometimes I wonder if it is in "my head." Projection. That it is my expectation of judgment that keeps me outside. But I have suffered a great deal at the hands of neighbors. The object of gossip and judgment. While the worst offenders are gone, I keep to myself. I do not give anybody a chance to do the same thing again.</p><p></p><p>It's funny. I live in an upper middle class neighborhood. Just a tract house but in a relatively desirable neighborhood in our town. M thinks the people are snooty. <em>With no reason to be.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p>Well. The thing is. The other house is in what the police call the "ghetto" part of town. Largely Hispanic. In this neighborhood there was no judgment of us. No judgment of me. None of M (actually he is revered.) And actually. No judgment of my son. Who talks bad about us. They worked continuously to keep us all in the fold and see us all favorably. Nobody gossiped. (Or at least not maliciously.) I do not want to engage in racial or ethnic stereotyping, but nobody put us into the community of dysfunction <em>in that neighborhood.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p>But in my own mind, that is where I live. And how I feel within my own family.</p><p>Elsi. You are talking here about talking about your kids.</p><p></p><p>I tell the truth. And you know what? When I do a whole lot of people tell me their truth. I know that the pharmacy tech has a son on methadone. I know that the cashier at Home Depot's husband is bipolar. And I helped her get him to a university clinic where he would be responsibly medicated. He functions now. The man at Home Depot who carries heavy stuff to the car told me he couldn't get his daughter, her husband and their five kids to leave his house, and he was sick of it. You get the drift.</p><p></p><p>If we do not tell the truth about our lives other people don't either.</p><p></p><p>But this does not work so good all over. Maybe it is a litmus test. Maybe I should NOT want to go where they do not want to hear my truth.</p><p></p><p>Sometimes I feel very, very vulnerable when I tell the truth about how I feel. Like on the other thread when I posted I wake up lately with feelings so sad that I want to die.</p><p></p><p>I get anxious and afraid now when I type that. I do not want to be a woman who wakes up wanting to die. There is nothing about the persona I built throughout my life where that fits--that I suffer so much I feel like I want to die. I ran from that. I tried to make myself into a person whose life other people might want. Because I was running from my own real life.</p><p></p><p>So. That is why I am served by telling this true thing. I am served by telling you the truth. There is something in me or in my experience of life that suffers. That is a true thing. It does not have to be my reality but for right now it is my truth.</p><p></p><p>What is so bad about that? I think it takes strength for us to tell the truth about our lives. Like we do here. Even anonymous it is hard.</p><p></p><p>I have not seen one person rejected here because she (or he) told the truth about their suffering.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Copabanana, post: 741302, member: 18958"] Well. I am right there with you. Sometimes I wonder if it is in "my head." Projection. That it is my expectation of judgment that keeps me outside. But I have suffered a great deal at the hands of neighbors. The object of gossip and judgment. While the worst offenders are gone, I keep to myself. I do not give anybody a chance to do the same thing again. It's funny. I live in an upper middle class neighborhood. Just a tract house but in a relatively desirable neighborhood in our town. M thinks the people are snooty. [I]With no reason to be. [/I] Well. The thing is. The other house is in what the police call the "ghetto" part of town. Largely Hispanic. In this neighborhood there was no judgment of us. No judgment of me. None of M (actually he is revered.) And actually. No judgment of my son. Who talks bad about us. They worked continuously to keep us all in the fold and see us all favorably. Nobody gossiped. (Or at least not maliciously.) I do not want to engage in racial or ethnic stereotyping, but nobody put us into the community of dysfunction [I]in that neighborhood. [/I] But in my own mind, that is where I live. And how I feel within my own family. Elsi. You are talking here about talking about your kids. I tell the truth. And you know what? When I do a whole lot of people tell me their truth. I know that the pharmacy tech has a son on methadone. I know that the cashier at Home Depot's husband is bipolar. And I helped her get him to a university clinic where he would be responsibly medicated. He functions now. The man at Home Depot who carries heavy stuff to the car told me he couldn't get his daughter, her husband and their five kids to leave his house, and he was sick of it. You get the drift. If we do not tell the truth about our lives other people don't either. But this does not work so good all over. Maybe it is a litmus test. Maybe I should NOT want to go where they do not want to hear my truth. Sometimes I feel very, very vulnerable when I tell the truth about how I feel. Like on the other thread when I posted I wake up lately with feelings so sad that I want to die. I get anxious and afraid now when I type that. I do not want to be a woman who wakes up wanting to die. There is nothing about the persona I built throughout my life where that fits--that I suffer so much I feel like I want to die. I ran from that. I tried to make myself into a person whose life other people might want. Because I was running from my own real life. So. That is why I am served by telling this true thing. I am served by telling you the truth. There is something in me or in my experience of life that suffers. That is a true thing. It does not have to be my reality but for right now it is my truth. What is so bad about that? I think it takes strength for us to tell the truth about our lives. Like we do here. Even anonymous it is hard. I have not seen one person rejected here because she (or he) told the truth about their suffering. [/QUOTE]
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