Diagnosed Mortal #17
This is a particularly difficult bit of personal business that reared its head in unearthing what I wrote years ago. It is rather clear in reading it that I had more than a little resentment around things not working out in the town I initially swooned over and chose to move to at 50 years old. I see all this very differently now, seventeen years later. Now that I understand my nature better and what I actually came here to do. I was blind to the perfection of all of this for years.
I couldn't connect to people in Bellingham, Washington the first few years I was here. I wanted to but I could not! I didn't understand why, at the time, I was getting the stink eye from people...and not just one person. I especially seemed to annoy the creative community for reasons I did not then understand. This was a total opposite reaction to what I had received all my previous life. Before Bellingham, before I had this new confidence in myself, I could charm my way into just about anyone's good side long enough to be accepted or, at least, deemed harmless.
I had thought at the time, since I had made such strides in my personal self confidence (explained in my book) that I would somehow magically be recognized as the good and benevolent person I felt myself to be. It should show, right? The exact opposite happened. This confusion went on for years as I tried to find some small place to stand in areas that held my interest. (We were 13 years into my living here when I wrote that essay, mind you!) No one kicked me out but I was not embraced. Obviously, I wanted to be embraced, though I doubt I would have admitted such a vulnerable desire years ago. My mood swung from "Are they fucking crazy blind? I'm terrific!" like an egomaniac to "Why am I such a moron?" like a 13 year old. Neither one of these narratives were helpful as I bounced for years between the two. Inside, I knew I didn't belong.
Though I felt special; no one saw it. I hired counselors to find what was wrong with me. Mostly I heard, "Well, socially Bellingham is a hard nut to crack." Meanwhile, I see person after enthusiastic person moving into the creative community and being embraced. Every time I would try and energize a way to ingratiate myself, I would sabotage it or some kind of discord would rise. It wasn't what I was supposed to be doing...this was the message I was receiving intuitively. That became obvious fairly early on. But if not that, then what? No answer. I was confused and embarrassed by all of it. I mean I'm pushing 60 years old at this point and feeling incredibly stupid over everything like a kid. It was a rough spell. Eventually I would see that blaming Bellingham was a cop out but not before I walked through the fire. There is no skipping the fire walk.
I got my answer five years into my life here. It came from my past. It took me a good long time to answer the knock on that door and recognize the interloper as my rescuer, however.
I got into a big fight with a member of my own family. A family member who I absolutely adored, misunderstood a letter I wrote to her (or perhaps saw through some unconscious comments) and wrote me back such a scathing and shocking response and analysis of my person that I literally had to grab a paper bag to breathe into to stay in my body and keep from passing out. Her unexpected words knocked the wind right out of me. My reaction unleashed a brutal self loathing that I clung to for years. Eventually, I surrendered to the realization that I had spent so much time trying to shore myself up over my life that I had really failed to see what a lame foundation I was building my new confidence upon. Others saw it. Slowly, I began to see myself from a more objective, realistic and human standpoint. It wasn't that others couldn't see me. They saw me all too clearly. I couldn't see me.
So here is where I was at with this in 2017...I have 3 more days to live and I sensed I had set up housekeeping in an incompatible situation that I was now going to die in. I get into a snit about it. Obviously a messy personal issue surfaced...
Deathy tip: Expect to die with some things unresolved.
Thanks for listening.
Since I've learned to study my natal astrological placements and I've written Different Ways, I have come to understand now, why things were and are the way they were and are in this town with me. I came here for the isolation and the soul searching but I thought I came here for community. It took years to turn that tanker around.
I have the kind of personality that is an acquired taste, so to speak. I wrote in my book that I cast a giant shadow. Years prior to that, I recall writing about a permanent stain associated with my life. When I wrote those things, I had no idea what I was really talking about, as it turns out. My time here has brought me face to face with the fact I'm nowhere near as pleasant and captivating a human being as I imagined I was. I was never a raging beauty but I held my own with my wiles. When I lost my looks (by youthful standards) the truth of my standing - outside of my gender and sex in its social context - revealed me as a rather comely piece of work at heart. In other words, I used what was accepted in the culture to float through life. As a mature adult, when I faced that consequence, I was left with the emptiness that kind of trajectory ensures. I have to laugh now at the perfection of it all. When I reflect upon my youth, knowing what I do about my darkness and how this aspect of my personality is received, there is no way - at this time of the world - when the dark female in all people is so vilified, that I am going to be welcomed anywhere if I try to hide that! Whereas in the beginning of my life, I had to hide it to survive.
Some of us have some really hard places to retrieve ourselves from in this life...maybe many lives mal-intenioned, unbalanced, and possible ancestral burdens woven in that are needing absolution and a transmutation of energy. Alchemy is lonely work. It's what I do.
I now respect and appreciate those who once recoiled from me for their true intuitive and, probably, unconscious reaction. There was (and there still is) something different, off, and shady about me. Certainly if I had been allowed to immerse myself in all kinds of distractions and dramas with people and the scene here, I guarantee there would have been no book written and the book was a big deal for me. I had to have an immense amount of space to bring that particular part of myself forward so I could experience what it is like to be more of myself as I really want and need to be in the world. Others not welcoming me turned out to be a great gift that allowed me that space.
I owe a lot to this town and its characters in this way....and so much love to the few dear friends I found here who saw to it I was included. I worship the ground these special friends that I found here stand upon; those who took the time to remember my name and treat me sweetly. There were just enough of these kind and generous souls to keep me in the game.
Music: I still felt resentful in 2017 over the whole sense of rejection. I chose the song, Left This Town, by Jeffrey Foucault for this post back then. It was a passive aggressive swipe at Bellingham, as I see it now. A clearer and more honest picture of my evolved reflection is represented in Chrissie Hynde's rendition of "Creep" which has the deep resonance of adolescent rejection that one can, evidentially, excavate and feel well into her fifties given the need. When touching one's essential need for healing; it initially feels toxic and deeply painful before it becomes something beautiful and liberating. This song...well...
~For the curious: this Blogpost explains my motivation and intention for this series of 20 essays in the Diagnosed Mortal series~