10:10 p.m. - 01/28/03
then I wouldn't feel lost and so frightened.
I remembered something just now that hasn't really been in my consciousness recently. Part of the reason I'm so terrified to have opinions is because I'm used to having others debate them. I don't want to say simple things, like how I responded to tonight's discussion (even though I already have). I don't want to answer the questions my Diversity teacher posed in response to my responses. I don't even want to share who I am, to know and to articulate that reality- because I'm terrified of being beaten, undermined. When I'm talking intelligently, I'm afraid it's obvious how ignorant (or actually- stupid) I am. When I'm talking emotionally, I'm afraid it's obvious that I'm weak and unstable. And when I'm talking personally, I'm afraid I make it clear that I'm a mess of misperceptions and illness, someone no one could tolerate, let alone love. This is the logical aspect of my shame. This is the active aspect, the one that inhibits action at the cognitive level, rather than through a visceral burn.
Britt mentioned to me on the phone tonight that I said something not-so-cool in a recent entry about fearing I'd make the wrong decision in regard to relationality/ sexuality/ sexual orientation, et cetera. And I instantly recanted, explaining that it's a *fear* I have, not something I would state rationally. I know that many, many people do not choose their orientation. I understand that it's possible no one does. But right now, I have so little instinctive information, either because I'm a biological dud or because it's been pushed so far down, that I'm approaching this in a very logical way. The same way I would approach a decision. Part of it is a true belief of mine, even if it's not so well articulated. Something Rosie O'Donnel said comes to mind- basically the idea that some people are fundamentally straight and some people are undoubtedly gay and then maybe there are other individuals scattered between the two, who make decisions based on exprience (what the studies call "environmental factors.) Another part of it is honest fear, and shame I would never inflict on others. (Those standards I impose on myself but would never expect others to adhere to...or perhaps those thoughts that I don't buy into but other people will judge me on, so I'd best be careful how I tread.) To be honest, I'm scared. Every time, I send an e-mail lately, I wonder whether or not this person will still care for me when I find out the answer to this question. When I tell them. If I don't find the answer. If I tell them I'm questioning. To be hoenst, it's not a decision I can make because there are too many negative consequences on either side (avoidance-avoidance, anyone?) so I need this instinct. In order to reach this instinct, I need to dismantle all the fears that keep me from allowing the answer to surface. I need to do what Shannon advised and not go recklessly in search of an answer, but to prepare myself to accept the answer when it comes. And in that, I need to still recognize that I have choices. I can discover, for example, that I'm straight and choose never to have sex. That's allowed, that's acceptable; I don't have to join a nunnery to stick to it. Finding out who I am does not necessarily add up to being raped. Believe it or not, I struggle to know that. Being myself does not necessarily add up to being abandoned. I've been back in touch with Stacy for a day now, and I'm already obsessing about the possibility that she'll hate me if she knows this part of who I am, this part I don't even know. I know I have to deal with the fear first, and the facts later, but right now I'm just so confused. I want to talk with someone, and I can't find my voice enough to do it. I want to work on the same fear that keeps me from asking for help in doing so. I want to know if I'm ever, ever going to be able to bring this up in conversation, even with the doc. Or if I'll stop worrying someone in my family will track this down and make me talk before I'm ready. I'm really tired of being afraid.
I need my voice back. I need the wisdom of my fear and not the incapacity. I need confidence. I need the strength I feel when rooted in my own identity. I need to understand and forgive who I was so I can begin to understand who I am. I need to stop judging who I've been, so I can let myself be.
And I need to study for sociology and 20th century, and do something quick (Diversity?) to turn in...
chord
(who will not be made useless)
p.s. I got to hear Britt sing today, and it was lovely.
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