Collision

Yesterday I mulched a bunch of the twigs and small branches, wearing safety glasses, long sleeves and pants and gloves, as well as ear protection.  Got a good pile done. 

 "For a long time now, every meeting with another human being has been a collision. I feel too much, sense too much, am exhausted by the reverberations after even the simplest conversation. But the deep collision is and has been with my unregenerate, tormenting, and tormented self. I have written every poem, every novel, for the same purpose - to find out what I think, to know where I stand. I am unable to become what I see. I feel like an inadequate machine, a machine that breaks down at crucial moments, grinds to a dreadful halt, "won’t go," or, even worse, explodes in some innocent person's face."

 - May Sarton
Journal of a Solitude

More Therappy today, and a useful insight.  Above a too low threshold, I redline without realizing it, and it reads as out of control and angry.  It comes from my past which seems a long time away, but my nervous system doesn't sense the lapse of time. It sees threat and stomps on the gas. I really do attract bullies, and give them energy, and this is the key to learning how to deflect them instead.   Emotional judo, the art of invisibility. 

This part of my life. 

I still felt shame that I didn't fight back. Today I realized I'd made an excellent tactical decision. That fighting back would have been stupid and wouldn't have worked.  Today, I was proud that I survived.  

That those reflexes that once saved me are damaging me and those around me today. They only work intermittently anyway. 

The air of impending doom is dry and mucky orange. Praying for rain.  I don't know what I'm praying TO of course, but the supplications flow out anyway.