Wednesday, September 15, 2010

I Want To Be A Real Person

I didn't want to blog. Considering that my work requires me to remain in the shadows about who I am, and often about the full scope of what I feel from day to day, I was hesitant to get back into the game of publicly processing my thoughts and emotions. G-D forbid I accidentally let something slip, something that wasn't supposed to come out- some weakness that needed to remain veiled.

This year, I have traded in notions of bravery for authenticity. People that I can't trust aren't getting invitations into my inner world. People that feel " unsafe" are being kept at an appropriate distance and I'm not allowing myself to feel guilty about my desire to be protective of my own well-being. I was hit hard this year, in various fashions. I suffered various serious betrayals and losses, but that isn't what I feel like writing about. Instead, I want to talk about my stance on marriage.

In some ways I am very old-fashioned. I don't own a television. I don't have any interest in pop culture. Of course I have vegan tendencies when it comes to household products, I am not particularly fashion-conscious, but meeting good people is really important to me. By "good" I mean " mindful". I mean- I enjoy people that think of the consequences, people that are introspective, people that are empathetic......people who have the courage to feel pain...and then the courage to feel their way THROUGH pain- which is no easy feat.

In the middle of a conversation tonight, I realized that I had been anti-marriage because I have been exposed to so many misuses of marriage. I am uncomfortable with the idea of marrying out of a sense of duty or shame...and somewhere within my mind, I got really confused.

My mother ( G-D love her) tries to run every aspect of my life. She always has a stamp of disapproval ready for whoever I chose to date..which is really a stamp of disapproval of me and my ability to make good choices. Marrying the kind of person I want to marry, would be a nightmare for her...and tonight, I realized that I can no longer afford to care about this.

I've dated many people counterintuitively. As in, I knew something was off, but I proceeded because she thought it would be a good idea.

I spent time with someone tonight that I really enjoyed. She was witty and humorous and sensitive and brilliant and fun. She and I seemed a lot alike, and I found myself thinking " I really want to get to know this person".

Sure, my mother will completely spazz out ( and she does that anyway)...but I don't care. I really want to be happy.

Saturday, July 17, 2010

The Bad Luck Therapist: On Love in Food

Considering Ronit picked Latte, I knew there would be some problems. R is not really emotionally sound enough to pick a person without some kind of loud pathology...which puts me in an impossible position. Clearly, Ronit's anger infiltrated her decision to send me to Beezlebub. The smack talking, brassy and bold, unfeeling swine of Westwood. The woman is just downright shrewd...but so crass that it is comical.

Every person has visible pathology in their persona, but this is just too much. I might as well not even go to therapy, because I can't really talk about any deeply personal material without being judged. I must be continually mindful of the fact that everything I say and do will be used against me at some point.

Yesterday, I took my therapist some cake. My grandmother was a chef and she taught me everything that she knew. I have pretty sound technique when it comes to pastry, to cakes, and various other foods. I can make virtually anything from scratch.

The cake was a bavarian style Neapolitan cake, with faux creme cheese frosting, sprinkles, strawberries, and chocolate-rice shavings. Generally, I would fill this cake with Raspberry Gnash, but I just wasn't in the mood for all that yesterday. Filling a cake is always a stressful process for me- first you have to split it just so...and then lift off the top layer ( which is more difficult than it sounds) and then you fill it from the middle outward, without allowing the filling to leak beyond the perimeter of the cake. I wasn't in the mood to fill that cake yesterday, but it still looked good and tasted very good. A made a few errors with that cake. I should have used more dark chocolate powder, and should have placed semi-sweet morsels into the chocolate batter. I will do that next time I make it. Also, next time, I'm going to drizzle a little fudged over the top to make it a bit more decadent. The cake flavors were not intense enough, but I do feel as though I achieved a good balance of moisture and texture in the cake.

One of the tricks I learned from my grandmother, was to add maple and yogurt to a strawberry cake to make the flavor pop a bit more....but that didn't work because I didn't add pureed strawberries to the batter either. It was strange to me to listen to Latte comment on how pretty it looked, how good the cake smelled. It certainly wasn't my best effort. It was pretty, but I felt like her expression of this was slightly exaggerated, which made me uncomfortable.

I don't really stay with my therapist because I admire her technique. I stay with her because I sense a vulnerable and feeling, emotional, person beneath her brassy exterior. That is the part of her I most want to connect with. That is the part I find most healing.

There is nothing healing or holding about being judged.

On a happier note, I created a non-kosher recipe this morning for dill chicken.

The chicken breasts are stuffed with dill cheese and red peppers, with a little bit of mozzarella. Then the chicken is rolled in a mixture of cheese, breadcrumbs, egg, and oil. For plating, I think this will be best served on scallions. Not just scallions- scallioned onions and potato. To make the flavors pop, the scallion mixture will need some salt and garlic.

Food is love, I think.

My grandmother taught me to respect food, to respect the people you are cooking for. To cook with utmost care- to use the finest available materials, to make food vibrant and colorful. To make the food alive. She taught me that food is about detail ( while I was forking down the crust of a pie), that food is about sensations ( whil chopping up the pieces of a cooked tomato), that food is about blending and integrating ( while pouring white wine into spaghetti sauce), and that food shows people you care about them ( while peeling the skin from an apple). She said that food is life-giving ( while grating carrots), that food has history ( which schucking green beans).

I loved to cook with my grandmother. I loved my grandmother. I loved food. I loved going to the market with her- learning how to pick out the best produce, learning how to barter with the sellers. My grandmother taught me a lot about life in the kitchen.

Friday, July 16, 2010

The Old Phonograph Keeps Skipping: Reversal Interval Training

I keep tripping over invisible bird-wire.

I am reverse-interval training to get back in shape and my goodness, my body feels great. I love the initial detox of intense workouts as the lymphatic system begins to overhaul the body. I love the feeling of a clean sweat. I am training on a Roadster, and for those of you who don't know...roadsters are HEAVY bikes. I love that my warm-up and cool-down exercise is lugging my 50lb bike up three flights of steps. Of course, I could just put it in the garage, but then I wouldn't reap any benefits.

The roadster is a true workout, excellent preparation for the Badwater.

The schedule is as follows: M- Th
5:50am- 6:30 Hills
6:30- 7:30 general workout
7:30-9:30 Cycle Group

The best part is when you are required to pick up your bike and run with it LOL.

Friday, April 9, 2010

"I See Your True Colors Shining Through"

Well, I have tried just about everything to get my photograph from my former-therapist Ronit, and she has not responded to a single one of my requests. So I suppose that in addition to dumping me off, like a piece of trash, she wants to add insult to injury by stealing an important piece of my history.

The journey to finally learning to trust this woman wasn't easy. Given my history, it is amazing that I was able to love her. I did love her deeply- and like virtually every other person in my life she let me down, smashed my hope to pieces, and broke my heart.

I recently read the stories of a few children who were "sent back" by their adoptive parents after the children showed signs of emotional instability. Because Ronit called herself my mommy-therapist, etc I too felt like I had finally found a place in the world in which I was safe and cared for. This came crashing down to pieces after she adopted a child. She no longer needed to use me for make-believe. She no longer wanted to take the time to reassure me, or to even care.

Lisa is much better. She takes the initiative to call me on weekends. She returns calls promptly. She is extremely intelligent and she never fails to show up when I need her.

And sometimes this increases my grief, because I realize that if Ronit would have been willing to call me for 5 minutes on weekends ( as Lisa does), I would have felt as though she cared about me and not like I was being abandoned. My needs were so very simple. I just needed someone to care about me. And Ronit told me that she cared about me...but she didn't. She cared about my money. She didn't care about my mind and soul, because if she did she wouldn't have done what she did. She wouldn't have stolen my photograph. She wouldn't have ignored my calls. She would have been a reasonable person. She would have called periodically to ensure that I was safe and cared for. She has never ONCE called just to see if I was alright. Why? She doesn't care.

It took me so long to finally trust someone, to finally let someone in.

You don't just return someone because they are having a difficult time. My family kept my sister and gave me away...and then she kept the baby she adopted and gave me away.

What she has done is criminal.

I filed a report with the board and later revoked it because I didn't want any harm to come to her. Funny how I would be so concerned about her well-being, and she hasn't even called me to see if I'm okay. She doesn't care.

People like this have no business being therapists or adopting children. A therapist is not supposed to simulate being " mommy" and she did- she did this to the max. When it crashed to the ground, she should have called me periodically to see if I was okay. She should have given me more than 2 sessions to terminate....

When she decided that she wanted to be "mommy", she should have known that this would come with real consequences.... and that she had a responsibility to honor and care for our relationship.

She left me behind.

And has never once just looked back to see if I'm okay. She doesn't care.

I feel like I've lost my mother all over again. I felt heartbroken.

I read a story about a little girl who was adopted from a foreign country and later returned to foster-care. The little girl kept talking about how she was having dreams of falling down a black hole.

I dreamt that Ronit left me behind while I was climbing steps. I would wake up screaming and crying. It was the most horrible thing I've ever had to deal with. A pain that you can only understand if you've lost your family. My failed " adoption" messed me up. I became angry and filled with rage. I was suspended. All of the good things don't even seem important anymore.

Lisa says that I am vindictive and mean-spirited. She doesn't understand that I am in tremendous pain- she doesn't know that Ronit was one of only a handful of people that I really let in-- let into my soul.

I don't think I'll be able to trust anyone again. I don't think I'll even want to trust anyone moving forward. I just want to fall into that black hole, and keep falling forever until I forget who I am and everything I've had to endure. I just want to fall until I really am nothing on the inside and outside.

None of this matters to Ronit. She doesn't care that she ruined my capacity to form attachment, to love, to trust. She doesn't understand that she injured me so severely- and that it didn't have to be that way. She treated me like garbage.

I should have left the filing in-place.

Lisa said that if I filed the complaint that Ronit wouldn't repair anything with me...but Ronit isn't going to repair anything with me anyway. I'm not worth it. She's shown me time and time and time again that she doesn't think I'm good enough for a phone-call or a kind word.

I hope that she is kind to the baby she adopted. When the child proves to have her/his own mind, I hope that she understands that when you commit to being someone's mother ( even in the way she did with me) that this bond is real...and it's serious. You don't return your literal or spiritual children.

Children give me hope. I've read and learned about so many cases of "disrupted" adoptions this week. I couldn't imagine going through this at age 7 or 8...but some children do....

These children are heros.

Adoptees have endured more than you can imagine.

The stories of the little ones have given me strength and hope. Just as I had terrible nightmares for months about Ronit leaving me- about being left behind, so did they. Just as I felt unwanted and used, so did they.

At least I'm older. At least I wasn't living with Ronit, depending on her totally. I did depend on her emotionally for love (which never came), for tenderness, for comfort...and she has handed me a trauma that will follow me for the rest of my life.

I deserved better.

But life isn't fair. Those kids deserved better too.

And yet, we're still here....still surviving. We might not be fact we might be crawling along...but we're still here, fighting for our lives...fighting for our lives.

One day, I will hold my child in my arms.... and I will have what so many people take for granted- I will have peace.

I don't think I will be able to trust again. Lisa rules by force and is so abrasive, that it won't be possible for me to psychologically be held by her. Feels like she and everyone else wants me to stand up and run a marathon without any legs. I wish I felt more for Lisa. I wanted to connect to her before, but after she yelled at me for paging her at night-time ( without EVER telling me that this wasn't okay) I just sort of gave up. I don't have the energy.

I don't even care anymore.