I’m Still Standing

So basically, I was done with today well before I even left the apartment this morning. I debated whether or not to do even that much, but only briefly, because there’s just too much to do at work at the moment. In a way, it’s easier to just come in and do it than figure out what happened while I was off when I get back. Plus, in today’s case, I think being there in the heat and the ridiculousness of all the things that went wrong for me this morning would have been worse than coming to work.

Just, you know, to put into perspective how much my morning sucked.

However, there was no one big thing to which I could attribute my feeling that everything was spiralling out of control, but rather a plethora of small things that overwhelmed me as I was being bombarded by them. Despite just wanting to give up and go back to bed, though, I was instead able to take care of home problems as much as possible before I left, push the panic surrounding things I can’t control at the moment to the side long enough to realize that it’s probably not as bad as I’m fearing, and get myself to work. On time, even.

I haven’t really slept, I feel physically quite terrible, and I am struggling to focus on the tasks at hand…but here I am. Doing it all, anyway.

I realized that, while the frustration and panic and stress and fatigue made everything seem out of control, I can still actually function in small ways, and today that’s enough. It’s enough for me to feel a sense of pride in my ability to do the things I can do, even when it seems like there are so many more things that I can’t. Somehow, I was able to recognize that my feelings are still valid, even if there are all kinds of external reasons for feeling them more acutely than may be necessary. Maybe I get frazzled easily over little things sometimes, but even that is valid, because it’s how I feel. And that I am able to recognize that as it’s happening – as I stand in the eye of that emotional storm – yet still manage to keep up the struggle, makes me proud of myself.

I didn’t let the frazzled-ness win. What felt overwhelming didn’t actually overwhelm, because I’m still standing. Struggling, yes, and unsure as to how some things will turn out, but even that is a far more positive step than giving in and giving up. Any step forward is better than no step at all.

I think my therapist would be crazy pleased with me today, as well. And who doesn’t want that kind of validation, really? 😉

Addendum to For Michelle Nolden Post

In conversation with a friend regarding some parts of yesterday’s post, I had a couple of thoughts to add:

It’s so freaking frustrating, isn’t it?

 Even when you’re kind of prepared, like, if the jogger hadn’t have been just a jogger, I’m not sure I would have done any better.  I just couldn’t stand not knowing what was coming for even a second longer.  I’d frozen before that night, and I have frozen since.  I’m also always am a little unsure as to whether or not I’d played a part in whatever happened.

For example, my first actual girlfriend was a huge alcoholic.  The kind that gets super drunk really fast, completely changes personalities (in her case, violent as hell), and then forgets everything (on purpose or not, I never knew for sure) by the next morning.  I never knew who was coming home at the end of the day.  She’d either make me dinner or toss me around.  One time we were screaming at each other, and I remember she asked what was wrong with ME.

 I said I didn’t know.  Totally took what little wind I’d had out of my sails.

 I used to wonder, though, if I knew what she was like when she drank, did I ever, like, push the envelope?  Did I ever say or do anything that might have brought on her rage?  And if I did, was it then my fault instead of hers?

 If it’s happening to someone else, I am so completely logical about the situation and able to react in a more protective way.  I see fault and proclaim judgement all over the place. 

When it happens to me, though, suddenly I’m not sure what’s right and wrong or deserved or not.  Things are never as clear when it’s me.

 

Ironically, another thing that happened when I was away at school is something I’ve only told one person.  That very same first girlfriend.  And she has since passed away from cancer, I hear.

I wonder if it’s a thing with women in general, where we feel less certain of our own rights or place In the world, so we don’t defend ourselves as much.  Some totally do – bitches be out there not taking any crap from anyone!  But the vast majority…I feel like we try to smooth things over and…what’s the word?  Placate?  Especially when it’s someone we know and trust, and/or someone in a position of power.  I feel like we maybe try to take too much of the responsibility, and the guys/people doing stuff aren’t taking enough. 

I guess it’s our society, really, though.  It’s much easier and often safer to just work it out ourselves, rather than try to prove wrongdoing to someone else who may or may not be sympathetic.  Most rape cases appear to put the victim on trial more than the perpetrator.  What the hell is THAT about?  How is it any kind of justice to force someone to face their attacker and, if they can’t remember stuff, or didn’t act the way they were supposed to after, use that to decide the attacker’s guilt or innocence?  The one on trial should be treated like they are the one on trial.  Not the other way around.