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Winding Down

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May. 3rd, 2001 | 04:29 pm
mood: tiredtired
music: Riverdance - Riverdance

On my friend's away message:

"New York City is the most romantic city in the world if you permanently listen to Gershwin on a Discman and never use a cell phone." -- Wendy Wasserstein.

So true, so true.

I have job interviews. One for Monday and one for this weekend sometime. So I will find a job for this summer and my dad will calm down and everything will just be fantastic. And I am much enamored with New York City. It's funny -- I worried when I moved here that it would become just a place to live. That I would get tired of the pace. That I would take the city for granted. That something would happen to me that I would cease to love the city in the way that I had the first day I set foot here.

But none of that has happened. It has become a place to live in the sense that I am not afraid to walk to class alone or take the subway alone or eat dinner alone -- I was petrified of those things only a year ago. It is also odd to note that a year ago, I had not even graduated from High School. I had not danced in my last dance recital. I had not... well, I hadn't done a lot of things, really.

I tend to think, as I go through life that every year is so full of changes and I'm so different now than I was last year and blah blah blah... and I notice myself thinking this every year at some point. I notice myself wondering if my old self would recognize my new self were they ever to meet on the street... and when I think about it now, I know that they would. Because for all that I change, there are pieces of me that remain the same, that allow me to be recognized by people and speak to people even when I haven't in a while. Because as much of me is dynamic, there is always the thing that doesn't change.

-------------------------------------------------

I have been having difficulties talking to people about my father lately. The idea always seems to come up with great pain and then people offer me advice about how to fix it and I recoil from that advice and I can't explain why.

I figured it out last night. When I was lying in bed, thinking with myself as I sometimes do, it occurred to me that the reason I recoil from such advice is because it makes me feel like the problems between my father and I are somehow my fault and something I have the power to fix. Which is not so in this case. My father is a good person at heart, but in my teenage years (aka the years he attempted to be involved in my life), he was borderline abusive -- not physically, but emotionally and verbally. And one of the things that happens to you when you are abused in such a way -- made occasionally to feel worthless and valueless is that you come to believe that it is your fault, that you, for some reason deserved it. So then you become distanced, and you realize that it wasn't your fault -- no, you weren't perfect, but you didn't deserve the treatment you got either. And you share a story or an event and somebody tells you what you could have done to make it better and you become frustrated and hurt and begin to recoil from that person and distrust them. Because you know they haven't heard your story. And you ache inside because you know this person is only trying to help, but they are in fact validating those same feelings of worthlessness and "well, I deserved it" thoughts that you have worked so hard to bury.

I feel better having realized this. And I still think too much. And I would like to tell this realization to the person who hurt my feelings, but it will fall on dead ears because she and I do not click. Her method of teaching children (and apparently the "right" method since she has raised 4 kids and has several grandchildren) is not mine, but it is infinitely better than mine (in her opinion at least -- although mine certainly worked. The kids that I taught dance to learned their steps and they loved me. So it can't have been that bad).

This has become ridiculously long for a livejournal. I should start keeping a normal journal again since I have begun being so very reflective here.

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