Voicelessness and Emotional Survival > Voicelessness and Emotional Survival Message Board
Finding voicefulness......losing......finding.....practicing..
Meh:
I'm sitting here in a beige painted basement of a homeless shelter. Computer and internet access in a shelter is pretty good, some places are not so well equipped. Above, the next floor up there was a community dancing class in a large room that is part of the building and I could hear 70's music and glimpsed middle aged people dancing.
Today, I spent a few hours at an employment office and managed to fax off application materials for three jobs that I would find pretty boring to do but would be lucky to get.
Walking down here to the computer terminal, I had the thought to myself "If I didn't have my mother in my life I would have nobody". My mother says things to me though that make my heart feel like a twisted dish towel.
Since the economy isn't too great in the place where I am, as a solution I think about trying to save money to take a train somewhere else. It's rather odd that I have gotten to this point in my life because prior to this I had modestly saved a good amount of money and at one point I could have made mortgage payments. I have to state that to justify myself. Oh well.
One of the women here in the shelter made some pasta for everyone. I'm usually cautious about food from mysterious origins and I like to over see preparation methods so I can decide if I should eat it or not...but tonight I just ate it.
Tomorrow I have to go to my mother's house where she has some of my belongings. It's an opportunity for her to squeeze the life out of me a little more, to accuse me of being a bad person. More of the same ol' same ol', so I will just stay focused and look forward to Saturday night when it's over with and I will figure out something to do.
I think I'm heading to read and sleep. Goodnight.
My mother actually confuses homeless shelter and hotel or college dorm in her vocabulary. It's all the same to her in her weird mind. Not only that but she is obsessed with her dog's pooping. I've written about that here before, there is just no cleansing my ears after time spent listening to her talk about her dogs poop and her own bowel movements. Oh well. I don't have any new complaints of her because the pattern has become so routine. The last argument that I was drawn into with her I realized how she had initiated the conversation and then accused me of being quarrelsome. Oh well again. I think I'm too tired. At some point it has all been written about.
g' Night it's getting late I need to scurry.
Gaining Strength:
MB - I am so thinking your Jan 24th post is excellent. I really love it.
And about your post right after that - I wish we could form a family of like-minded children of Ns. That could be a good choice. Not all children of Ns mind you but like-minded ones. I am so needing a family. I have a number of friends whose family is not very good but they still function like a family. My father's illness has revealed to me that there is no there there in terms of family connections for me. Good to know. But the need for caring structure still exists within.
Gaining Strength:
I am not in your shoes but I am responding to your last post. Take it with a grain of salt.
But your idea of getting on a train and going where things might be better economically (or even weatherwise) sounds like a good idea to me. Why not? Fresh start - cutting those ties - really cutting them. Do not lose hope. I think these Ns beat us down so badly as children that functioning well in this world is absurdly difficult but I believe in you and by doing so I am able to believe in me as well.
I hear hope in your posts. I want to flame your fires of hope and determination. I want to encourage you. I hope for you a system of support and encouragement.
Meh:
Thank you, Gaining Strength.
(I have to post sentence by sentence because the computer keeps blinking out)
I think I do have some type of hope. The more extreme my life gets the less depressed I am because there is no room to be that way.
Maybe I will write more later, I'm getting tired.
Meh:
Right now, nobody knows where I am, only me. I'm sitting on a bed in a shelter typing this on my old laptop that I just got out of storage.
I found a book here at the shelter titled "Are You Somebody?" by Nuala O' Faolain. The Author grew up in an Irish Catholic family and went to a boarding school taught by nuns. My grandmother also went to an Irish Catholic boarding school taught by nuns and it makes me wonder if there is something in the culture of my family passed down through the generations that views children as not valuable.
Maybe I'm not so many generations away from the women who didn't use birth control (great grandmother?) Who saw children as a threat to their ability to be their own person? I don't know maybe not.
In the book "Are You Somebody" Nuala describes a woman who gives birth, the grandmother ends up with the baby and the baby becomes emaciated and shrivels up from neglect. The grandmother states "who would want it?". So I guess the baby is let to die.
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