- Tina Rowley
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- Weekly Zephyr #35:
Weekly Zephyr #35:
Weekly Zephyr #35: January 25th, 2018
I made this one. Needed something specific so I just made it.
Welcome to a very special edition of The Weekly Zephyr. I'd love for this to be a normal edition but it must be what it's about to be instead.
Quick, plain distribution of the facts/band-aid ripped off
Sexually abused at a tiny age (2-3) by my dad
Much, much work done on this topic over the last 25 years. Therapy, off and on, lots. Body work. Energy work. Have been working every two weeks for the last 4+ years with a teacher/healer—intense work, sometimes as physically excruciating as labor, no lie—and have gotten more cleared out in these last 4+ than in the previous 20 some
Probably never won't be at work to unravel some aspect of this. A motif forever. A field of exploration. An expertise, kind of.
some of you will be apprised of these facts already those of you who are new to my stuff aren't
I'm talking about this because I hope it will be useful but also because it's necessary. I don't know how I'm going to do this exactly and I don't know yet what has to get said. Bear with me as I wrestle some sentences into existence and drag them onto the page.
Speech is the arena, never not fraught. It's my best and worst place.
Sometimes a thing will happen where I can't speak, and I mean this in a literal way. Usually it's in the living room with Dave late at night. Sometimes I'm in an armchair when the thing descends, sometimes I'm on the couch. Last night I was on the couch. How it goes is: *recognition of a feeling + thought combo brewing turmoil *sitting with it *turmoil and understanding of turmoil grow simultaneously *desire blooms to speak/relate understanding (to Dave) *THING DESCENDS Bless the patience and kindness of my husband, who has sat vigil with me through many of these sessions in our time together. I'll be trying to tell him something—almost always trying to share an insight related to my abuse—and nothing will come out of my mouth. I can't even find my mouth. My brain is surging and I have the concepts lined up, but I can't download them into speech. These are long sessions. Sample script: Me: I, I— many minutes elapse in struggle Dave: <kind, present silence. waiting> Me: W—w—what, w-what I'm— struggle, minutes Dave: <kind, present silence> fury, effort, nothing Me: I, I c-can't— et cetera and then eventually, with force, I can get three words out, and then four more, and then I can slowly fight my way into talking. I'm not positive about this, but I don't think it happens out of nowhere. I think that when this muteness event happens, I've usually been in the spaceship for at least a week, maybe more.
"The spaceship" is a term I came up with last night after I could speak again. It's called the spaceship because of hovering, which is what you do outside your body after things have taken place in/upon/around it that render it unacceptable for habitation. You just lift right off out of that thing and you can operate from a distance away. I figure I've been about fifteen feet up as a rule since 1972, though I am working out how to touch down and hang in this Earth suit and walk around on the planet.
A phenomenon when I'm in the spaceship: (or when I'm just about to head into a hovering period)
VERY IMPORTANT, THE REASON I'M WRITING THIS
Overtures of friendship become baffling and unmanageable.
If you're pure acquaintance/stranger, totally peripheral, this doesn't apply. And if you live in my house, this also doesn't apply.
If you're promising in some way—kindred-feeling, wonderful past a certain point—that suggests that intimacy might develop, I short-circuit. It can even happen if intimacy has already developed and you are very beloved and special to me. But when it's spaceship time, all of this seems threatening and I freeze up. I clam up. YOU SEND ME A MESSAGE, A GREAT MESSAGE, A FEW OF YOU DO, MAYBE FOR EXAMPLE LAST WEEK, AND I DON'T RESPOND. Please forgive me if this applies to you. I deeply apologize, and will apologize individually now that I've cracked the top of the creme brûlée of my muteness. I hate the idea of wonderful humans out there imagining that I don't value them. It is your very value combined with my not-fully-resolved history that makes this bad situation.
And it's inconsistent! And unpredictable! Sometimes an overture of friendship is great! I mean, I LOVE THOSE! I'm not always in a spaceship! Very often I'm fully functional right on this Earth!
If you can bear with me, if it feels all right to do so, then I'm very grateful and I will be with you as soon as possible. And if you can't, if it makes you feel too unsure and unhappy for your own set of reasons, then I'm both doubly sorry and I understand.
One of the reasons I bring all of this up is that in our culture, many times people will ask
WHY DIDN'T SHE SAY SOMETHING
(sometimes he overwhelmingly she)
and I would just like to remind everyone that speech, in many of these cases, is probably fraught.