Gather 'round
Miss Dee, kids. I've a story to tell.
When I was a little girl I wanted nothing more than to be an Astronaut. Not just any Astronaut, mind you, but the first female shuttle commander. Alas, I was beaten to it in 1998 by USAF Lt Col Eileen Collins before my time would have even arrived. In fifth and sixth grade I was part of the Junior Astronomer's Club. Begged my father to take me to see Halley's Comet in 1986. Cried when Challenger crashed on January 28th, 1986. Incidentally, that was also the year we had Hurricane Gloria, and shortly afterwards a few twisters actually set down in Queens. That was kinda neat. In 7th grade I was all about the space program. Did a career report on it in HomeEc after soliciting massive amounts of pamphlets and booklets and charts and all kinds of stuff from the educational programs at different NASA branches. In high school I joined Civil Air Patrol with plans to go into a military academy or the USAF. I went to Brooklyn Technical High School, and had a straight C average with the exception of college level Aeronautical Engineering courses that I took in my last two years. Those I had a fairly stable 99 average in. I was voted most intelligent in my major, kissed ass with the grossest teacher so I could play with the wind tunnel, even considered doing a Westinghouse Science Project. I eventually changed majors when I got to college because I knew I would have been miserable as an Engineer, and I'm still bouncing around.
Then there was me, behind the scenes. I had my share of abuse as a kid, and in my acting out over the years I can't even begin to count how many times I was nearly suspended. Chronic lateness, sex, theft, cutting school, sex, smoking, graffitti, sex, arson, drugs, harassment, violence, minor drinking (fortunately, there's a history of alcoholics in my family and there's too much of a stigma for me to let go and enjoy drinking at all), stealing all the midterm papers for a global history class (how the hell did I get away with that one?). I fucked up in most of my classes and pulled through with those last minute bullshit term papers that got me to pass. And because I'm a diplomat, I even managed to pull through with those C's. I spent half of those classes spaced out. Not even sleeping, not daydreaming, I just was *not* there. Hell, I even cut therapy. The only reason I ever showed up was because she let me draw, and because for group therapy she had meunster cheese, crackers, and crystal light. Oh, and another Chris and I used to always hang out and smoke beforehand and talk about boys and the other girls in the group. But the shrink kept us bribed good with ice creamand drawing and videos and even arranged for us to go to Vidal Sassoon one Christmas. Damn, my hair smelled great afterwards. :)
So, I picked up a few tricks. I learned what it would take to get by, and I learned how to manipulate situations. I learned how to charm, I learned how to plead.
I learned how to work with minds. And I also learned that I was empathic, so I learned how to get past emotional walls. There was one time I was face to face, a candle inbetween. This was actually the guy who dubbed me diablita, only because I called him angelito (which couldn't have been farther from the truth). Anyway, we started off staring into each others eyes. He started hinting at aspects of his story. He didn't have to say it all in words, for within minutes I was transported into his mind. I saw his hurts, I saw his childhood, I saw the wars (literally) he fought. It was a trip and a half, those images still sitting in my mind's eye today. He confirmed my visuals, which freaked the hell outta me. Perhaps that's one of the main reasons I'm scared of letting my walls down to develop the empath, Kate. Kinda like The Cell, ya know? I fear my wiring being damaged.
But I still feel it, I still read others, though misinterpreted sometimes due to a lack of development of skills on my part. My difficulty at this point stems from the fact that every emotional synapse becomes a two page logical calculus problem to me. OTOH, it's where I've needed to be. It's pretty much how I've managed to get through so much conflict in the past two years or so. I can prevent myself from getting lost in negative emotions for an extended period because my brain is always working, trying to rationalize and understand what's causing the emotions and problem solve my way out of it. The only time this fails me is when I get hit with one of my annual chemical drops and end up depressed for a few months. But ya know, it kinda humbles me. This year though, I realize it'll be much nicer to head it off than wallow in misery for a few months. I can find more productive things to do than sit around with a seemingly legitimate need to be stoned stupid for a month or two straight. I've found some other tools to help me cope.
And now that I've uncovered the mirrors, it's time to stop grieving. Walking into this year I wanted to find myself, to find my vibe. And I thought I needed to be by myself in order to do this. Then life handed me the founding members of my tribe. I still didn't understand myself, but then I was told by a little birdy that one of the best ways I was going to learn about myself was to see how other people respond to me, to see my reflection in their eyes. No sooner said than put into practice. And I saw love, compassion, strength, a practical idealism, childlike energy, unique creativity, dark sexuality, nurturing, adoration, intelligence, an interesting sense of humour, patience, understanding...sparkle, I shine, I intimidate, I intrigue....and I even have to laugh inside when the smart ass gets thrown back in my face by you, kitty cat.
Once again, I thought I knew what was best for me, I thought I had an inkling of who and what I was and wanted, and life decided to show me that I was almost entirely wrong through the people I met. And I can't do anything but smile at it, because that's the way I've become accustomed to doing business. I laugh and I smile my way through the hardest of times (well, most of the time, anyway...when I'm not overanalyzing and toying with the edge of insanity).
I'm fortunate to have a system of checks and balances set up with the people in my life. And I'm fortunate that they get along with each other, for the most part. But my tribe keeps me sane and silly, my tribe helps me grow. And I can only hope that my tribe will grow from their experiences with me and each other. I like to challenge, I like that we're all on our toes.
I used to have a long list of rules:
And the list goes on.
But Damn you, my loves...you're making me break MY OWN rules. You're challenging me to grow and take a look beyond my superficial tendencies more than anyone has ever been able to in my entire life. And I'm learning and loving so much, so fucking much. And the more I learn, the more challenges and hurts and setbacks I have, the more I bounce back with a vengence...and my heart and mind opens up a thousand times more. And this is without the drugs I've been craving all year. *smirk*
And you're right.
This is no ordinary love.
But I am nowhere near an ordinary woman.
Neither are you, dearheart.
Let's not kvetch.