And that's when I'm telling the story. I know for a fact it happened, and it still sounds like something someone would make up to get attention.
There was a meme on LJ some years back, the "In this list of 'facts' about my life, there are 3 lies... can you pick them out?"
I think I tried my hand at it once...I would have to look back over my archives to see what turned up. I kept having a problem finding lies big enough that they rivaled the shit that actually happened to me.
And this was before most of the last wacky ass decade of my life.
But synchronicity. It seems like every time I watch TV, listen to music, see a movie, I get the odd feeling that the universe is dropping these little nuggets of insight and wisdom that pertain to my life stresses as they are now (including one really big fucker that I can't write about as the legal situation is up in the air. No, I only WISH I were joking about that. If you need to know, ping me in real life and I'll tell you what little I can. Otherwise, let me assure you that, for the first time in my life, I had to stretch to make it even remotely my fault, as I wasn't there at the time), little parables that resonate a bit more strongly and more frequently than average.
Tonight we caught Lie To Me (I love me some Tim Roth, ever since Pulp Fiction), where Roth's character, Cal Lightman notes that the best way to wind up an emotionally damaged individual is to constantly criticize them as a child with little positive emotional interaction. Like, being the only male child in the house with 3 younger sisters and a very small mother with an alcoholic step-father with major daddy issues of his own.
Maybe it was "emotional warmth" -- you know, that happy safe place you go to when you're in someone's arms.
Suddenly I wondered about my propensity for love. Why was I polyamorous? Could it be that the capacity for love is merely the ability to see it when it's there? And if you starve someone enough, your definition of what constitues "food" can change drastically. But then, I kept raising the bar... learning to communicate... learning how to do the work. I'm still learning. But if my stepfather's constant abuse made me a coward, the after effects made me terrified that all good feelings were short lived and temporary reprieves from a nasty and brutish life of swallowed emotions...
What does love look like after that?
I've recently been forced to look at my own polyamory. I've always believed that polyamory allows for larger marital units. Obviously, the first step of that would be a triad.
Considering I am now 47 years of age, and only have been CLOSE to having anything resembling a true committed triad, I have to wonder if that's true. Could it be that we can't rise above those petty jealousies? That there's always this sense of "less than" when dealing with the relationship dynamics -- she's younger. She's been with him longer. She can still have children. She's married to him. All constant threads straining against one another, even when they are attracted and falling in love with each other as well.
I keep thinking it's about depression. That sudden life changes can depress you, and make you question everything about your life, your beliefs, even the things that make you happy. I keep thinking that maybe I need anti-anxiety meds, but get slightly nauseous at the thought of "yet another pill", and all the debates with myself and others re-play instantly. Crutch! Assistive device! Tomato!
And they're facing the same challenge. Is the depression because of the fears, or is the depression causing the fears? How can you tell when you're still neck deep in it? Wouldn't you want to know for sure that it wasn't some freak of bio-chemistry, you're very own built in jekyl and hyde machine, that mad instantly bi-polar pilot calmly re-assuring you one moment, taking you on a wild ride the next while gibbering obscenities in the PA system.
"Hello, this is your captain speaking. If you look out the right side of the plane you'll see the north of the Grand Canyon you'll see the SHIT SPLATTER ON THE WINDOWS as you LOSE your bowels explosively while I take us on a barrel roll in a 747, BOO-yah, motherfuckers!"
Obviously I have no idea what it's like. (/sarcasm)
I want to be hopeful, damn it. I want that fucking sense of peace that Neal always managed, or Loren.
I still wonder -- why is it that I can believe that it's even remotely possible for three people to love and cherish each other and live together? Hell, why is it so hard for just two? Is it just that I've seen so little of it during my childhood that I fight for it so strongly when I find it? Is that why I destroy relationships by trying to prove to people how unworthy I am? Is that why she's fighting it so hard now?