That's kindof a different focus than the entitlement, huh?  My sense of entitlement wouldn't be so freakin' ginormous if there was a smidge of empathy for me in my life. 

I'm having an experience right now that is similar to the one I had in the Shelter when I told that one friend that I wanted to be "Good".  I felt eyes glaring at me, teeth baring, voices growling, and anger seething.  Rage and violence just under the surface, longing to lurch at me and destroy me.  I feel that again, right now...

But after talking to this guy at the local Crisis Unit the other night, I realized that empathy is the thing that is lacking all around me, the thing which I can give so much of, and the thing that's missing in the relationships that I find myself in so often it's uncanny.  Asperger's is specifically about a lack of empathy.  Lack of empathy is specifically what creates an Attachment Disorder.  Lack of empathy is exactly what I have when I've been pushed too far by other people's indiference. 

My boyfriend can't stand to be around me now because I am knocking on the doors of every agency in town, and some out of town, who is supposed to be able to help him or refer him to someone who can help him by assessing him for Asperger's.  I won't stop until it's done.  He is understandably ambivalent about it.  But I need it done.  NOW!  He is acting out on all his most insane, most cruel, most childish impulses, turning his life and the lives of those around him inside out with emotional and financial chaos and he still wants to come home to my smiling face and warm embrace as if he is the Boy Wonder.  None of the agencies in town are taking any responsibility.  Nothing is getting done.  They are giving me the runaround and when I complain, they are indiferent. 

Trigger!

My rage was off the scale this morning.  I went to work early, hoping to find someone to talk to there and let off some steam.  I talked to someone who sat with me for a while.  She's very generous with her time.  But she likes to solve problems.  When I respond to her suggestions by saying that they won't work or I don't want to do that, it makes it look like I'm just resistant or making excuses.  This is far from the truth, but it is impossible to accept myself as I am in that moment, when someone else is trying to do something so I won't be that angry.  I don't want to be there any more than she wants me to be there.  But that's where I am at that moment.  I'll come out of it when it's time to come out. 

I got word of some power games being played at work and I'm trying to figure out how to not let that wreck anyone's work or recovery.  I'm being really generous.  But that won't be seen or acknowledged. 

Then after we closed, we got word that one of the participants that we've had just killed himself the day before yesterday. 

My friend and I wept shamelessly.  While I was still crying, I fed a homeless guy. 

Then I got word that another participant was likely to get in trouble for being around children.  And another for being too much of a smart-ass. 

And after driving my friend home, I get word that I'll most likely be able to move into my new place tomorrow.  No need to throw a party; it's a hole.  Studio, bad paving, no outside lighting, bad neighborhood.  And only a thin promise that my b/f will respect my space by leaving if I need him to.  More likely, he will not leave, but stay and try and guilt me or beg me into not being angry and pester me and pester me. 

My friend let me try one of her "Mother's Little Helper's" the other day, just so I would know what to expect if I needed to get a scrip.  I'm thinking of asking for one.  All because I can't find a group of people to hold the space for me to be hurt, afraid or angry. 

I remember the day I lost my marriage.  I felt hurt and angry about something, and my husband withdrew from me and stopped loving me.  It wasn't even about anything he did or could possibly have been responsible for.  He simply couldn't tolerate an angry person in his presence.  So I lost him.  He never came back to me.  Ever.  It took nine more years for the marriage to finally dissolve completely.  But that was the beginning. 

Tonight I took a nap.  I figured out that sleep was one of the best ways for me to deal with this kind of stress.  My body puts me there as a way of erasing the random access memory so I can reboot and function. 

Then I watched a few movies.  And remembered why I do this work.  I love these people.  So much.  And I am compelled to make this world a better place for them. 

Exhausted...

Whaddayaknow!  Melancholy IS contageous! 

I actually saw someone catch it today.  It was one of the most amazing things I've ever seen.  I announced that this young man killed himself to all our Participants today, and one woman ran out of the room saying, "Oh, no! No! NO!"  And when I caught up with her a few minutes later, she was talking about doing it herself.  Talking.  Talking.  Erupting with words and phrases.  Repeating herself.  Pacing back and forth.  Writhing in it.  Unable to crawl away. 

I get it now.  I get how people used to be superstitious about talking about it.  That used to mystify me. 

She and I talked for quite a while and she went through alot of pain.  She finally allowed herself to weep openly, first with me.  Then in front of everyone.  The kleenex box was being passed around and around.  After the hurt poured out, anger followed.  Hate and rage.  Beautiful, vivid colors of unnamable pain and agony, gushing out of her, that she was not used to being allowed to show, especially without a good enough excuse.  She felt so fragile and vulnerable, unsure of anyone's love or connection.  Everyone showed her affection and love and cried themselves and it was amazing.  Her girlfriend held her tenderly. 

Underneath it all, finally emerged the desire to live.  So small and easily missed.  So unspeakable in the face of ... what she had had to face. 

I'm thinking of starting a club at work.  A club specifically for people who have a death impulse.  For them to un-repress the anger and practice externalizing it in appropriate ways.  Folks will not be allowed in unles they speak the Password:

FUCK YOU!

And we will have T-shirts that say, "Love me. Love my death impulse."

People who stick to the formulaic "Do you have a plan?...  How will you carry it out?..." type of intervention, will not be allowed.  They will have their underwear pulled up over their head and will be kicked out into the street.  If anyone who is reading this right now has ever had a death impulse, I'm sure they will know what I'm talking about.  No one wants to want to die.  But many people want to die sometimes.  Shaming people for wanting to die sometimes is prettyfreakin' counterproductive - putting it mildly. 

Lets get past that and get to the anger.  I guarantee that will help.  And underneath all that is the fragile stuff.  And that's where we connect.  That's where we can be reached.  Love it all.  Love it back to life.  It wants to live.  But not if we can't love it. 

Can we do that?  Can we love someone's deepest pain and anger?  Don't we first have to love our own?  Isn't that the scariest damned thing ever?

Yes, that's right.  I did it.  I managed to get a place to live.  Keeping it will be a whole other ordeal, but it is so nice to sleep in a space that is controled totally by me.  Tonight I actually had the space to eat mindfully.  I forgot to do it while I was eating, but I did it after.  And it was good.  Who would do that with me from my local world?  Anyone?  After a year working where I do, I still don't know.  And that's not good.  But doing so alone is like finally coming up for air after being held under water for about two years. 

I don't know if I can describe the roller coaster ride I've been on for the last two months.  It's been just too much drama for me.  I hate it.  And it looks like it's coming to an end, finally. 

The boyfriend couldn't cope with some stuff that was goin' on for him: I was moving into a place that he wasn't allowed to live with me in, my Mom is moving away (probably the biggest stressor because he can't seem to live without a Mommy.) and he was unable to concentrate on working well enough to earn enough money to pay his rent, so he was probably going to lose his place too.  So, he used again.  Meth.  He just couldn't find another way to straighten out his head and focus.  He got caught on Saturday and is in jail now.  This is a felony violation of probation.  Probation which was given so that he could attend treatment and get his life together.  One slip and he would have to serve the entire sentence he earned the last time he messed up.  So, this is going to be a long one. 

No wonder he was being such an jack-ass since before Christmas and lost his ability to hang with my ideas to help him with the Asperger thing.  He took me for a ride this whole time.  Hating himself for it, but doing it anyway because he really thought he could get his head together.  If only I would stop pestering him about talking out his impulses instead of acting them out....    but, oh, well.  He won't learn from this either.  If he has AS, he won't "get it".  This will do him no good at all.  It will only make him madder.  And when he gets out, he's gonna "show them all" who's boss.  It's really bad.  I tried valiently to get him the help he needs, but the system just wouldn't respond.  No one would open the door for him.  So, now he will just go down the drain into the sewers of humanity, and rot.  A crime was committed here.  But it wasn't him using Meth.  It was the Mental Health System failing to save life.  Again.

I am free of blame or remorse about what I did or didn't do.  I know I did the best that could be done.  I feel clean about it all.  And I know why. 

I met someone at the local Urgent Care and Recovery Center (Mental Health Crisis Unit).  He just happened to be working one night when I needed to come in and vent and cry and get away from the B/F.  He just happened to know how to hold my sorrow and anger and fear and all those big feelings.  Few do.  And he just happened to know how and why one must develop The Witness.  And he just happened to know about Voice Dialog and some other things that work for me.  Oh, and he just happened to have worked in the Prisons.  And he just happened to know some about Asperger's. 

Dang!

So, I am going to go see him a few times a week down there.  Just drop in.  For free.  Because he works for the Crisis Unit. 

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sometimes all I need is 5 minutes.  And I get to ask him "professional" advice too, like how to create a container for doing anger work with Client/Participants.  And he's willing to have conversations about the conversations.  He gets that!  And he want's me to go to school and learn how to be a Therapist.  He told me that the first night.  So...   I guess I will.  Eventually.  I haven't felt that clearly seen and perceived in I don't know how long.  It was amazing.  Who knew!?  A diamond in the rough.

So, what have I been working on this week?  Since the B/F went to jail, I've discovered my inner Rejecting Mother and Compassionate Mother, as well as the inner Adoring Child and the Misbehaving Child.  As I was driving home from my Mom's house tonight (wow, it feels good to write that!) I realized that I've used the Compassionate Mother to keep the Rejecting Mother safely locked away.  When the Compassionate Mother is not evoked, there is little to obscure the Rejecting Mother.  I love men who evoke the Compassionate Mother.  Men, women, children, dogs, cats, whatever.  If they evoke the Compassionate Mother, I am okay.  So much of my Spiritual Questing has been to find that place where only the Compassionate Mother has to exist.  My sexuality is all tied up around it too.  So, as I put the car in gear to come out of the driveway, I realized that my missing the B/F is really about me missing my Compassionate Mother.  I want my Mommy!

The B/F is really good at evoking the Compassionate Mother.  That's why it's often good when I'm with him.  I like who I AM when I'm with him most of the time.  When his acting out gets really bad, tho, the Compassionate Mother is worn out and she falls down.  Then the Rejecting Mother comes out.  It's an invisible line, really.  And it moves depending on how much stress I'm under or what time of the Month it is.  I'm sure he's confused about when he crosses it.  I'm not.  But he is.  And my Client/Friend is too. 

The other wonderful jems I've found are that when I bury my Rejecting Mother so deeply that she cannot be seen at all, other people feel the vacuum and try to fill it.  Oh, joy!  When people get around me who have a sense of alarm about me not having strong enough boundaries, they become my Mother.  LOL  How ironic!!  She's the one who violated and destroyed my boundaries to begin with!  No wonder I can't win!  And since I'm so freaking Compassionate, other people feel comfortable being Misbehaving Children around me!  Yay!  But, the ones who have their own ability to self-reflect on that are safe for me.  And when they do it, I get to be the Misbehaving Child too, and that's fun.  So, that's mostly okay.  But, ironically, the one who is most deeply burried is the Adoring Child.  That's the one who wants to be Good, that I encountered in the Homeless Shelter.  This is the one who comes out in the presence of good teachers and good mentors.  These people always fail me, tho, and she goes back into hiding.  She is desperate to come out and adore someone and look up to someone.  She's so lonely.  The last person she really felt connected to and evoked by was my Grandfather.  When he died, that was it.  I've never found another one since. 

Oh, it's been wonderful getting to know all these people inside of me.  I can't wait to do more work with them.  I feel so much freer and known and safe and relaxed now that they're identified.  Really great. 

And I went to Court this morning to see the B/F get his Court date and look incredulous that he doesn't get released on his own recognizance (O.R.'d).  So naive.  He doesn't see it coming.  He thinks it's all gonna be okay.  It's so not.  But he's retreated completely into fantasy now.  That's the only way he can stay safe.  It would be cruel to wake him.  He's going to a very bad place.  I feel so not triggered now.  Wow.  How amazing it all is. 

I told my friend at the Crisis Unit that I thought I was afraid that the B/F was going to get out of jail, but what I was really afraid of was that the Rejecting Mother was going to get released and torment me.  She's the one I hate.  Not the B/F.  I've never been able to say that to anyone else and they get it.  It's just too weird.  Too old skool psych. 

So, at the last Staff Meeting we had (Yesterday, as of this writing), I told everyone that I can no longer manage to wait or delay doing Shadow Work at Work.  It has saved my life countless times and I absolutely must let others know how to do it.  My Boss is not okay with this.  He says that it sounds too much like Therapy.  "Therapy" is code for "legal problems" because I'm not a licensed Therapist.  But this is nonsense.  It isn't brain surgery.  Anyone can do it.  A Child can do it.  It's fundamental and simple and should be basic to self-care.  So, we have to find a way to jam the scanners of the Knowledge Police.  We can use disclaimers or screen carefully to weed out the ones who will be confused or damaged by it.  My friend at the Crisis Unit let me know that I would have to do that to work with the angry ones.  If they can't do self-reflection, they're not gonna make it.  I also mentioned that we should do a short course in the pre-training for becoming recovery coaches on how to do self-reflection.  This time (yes, I've mentioned it before) it was heard and respected. 

Holy cow!  Things might be working out for me. 

My inner Rejecting Mother is pleased as punch that the B/F is going away.  This feels utterly filthy and disgusting to me.  But in reality, it's not.  It's perfectly normal.  When I watch "cop shows" on TV, I always feel better when the Bad Guy is caught and the Crime Victim is consoled by it all.  I always feel better.  Gee, I wonder why. 

I can feel her right next to my Compassionate Mother.  They are both side by side, sitting happily.  Unprovoked and just getting to know one another.  Here's a little Voice Dialog:

Compassionate Mother CM:
[sigh]  I miss him so much.  I miss fingering his elbows and kissing his head and grabbing him and pulling him close and hearing his voice in my ear and all the rest.  He was almost gonna fix some of my stuff for me, too.  But he was just too stressed out. 

Rejecting Mother RM:
Yeah.  Too bad! 
But, now it's my turn!  Finally, all this crap is gonna stop!  God, what a waste of time!  Look at the years that have gone down the toilet!  You're getting old!  No one is gonna look at you twice if you put up with him anymore and he finally bottoms out or drags you into another ditch!  Look at what has happened to your kids over the last 3 years!  Jesus!!!  Your Daughter became a woman and got a job and moved out and has weathered tragedy and is quite the adult, but you were only half-there.  Your Son has become a teenager.  He put it off for as long as he could, waiting for you to be a Mom again.  But he couldn't hold out anymore.  He finally let that dream go.  And his sister helped him.  And now he looks at you with pity.  Great!  All because things were always in crisis, putting out his fires, waiting for him to get settled!  What a freaking waste of life!  It's over!  FINALLY!  Don't ever get involved with him again!  Do not drag the rest of us through that again!  And stop locking me up, by the way!  I'm trying to save your life, you stupid idiot!

CM:
I can't speak to you because while you utterly destroy me and my Voice, I cannot reject you.  That's not my job.  I am utterly vulnerable and destroyed by you.  I have no defense.  You should stop being so mean.  You really should.  It would be better for you.  And me. 

RM:
What a freaking useless piece of shit you are!  What good are you?  You can't make choices or create a safe environment for anyone!  You can decorate, but if anyone want's to come in and destroy it, there is nothing stopping them.  Nothing but me.  No wonder you've never been able to establish a safe or beautiful home!  You don't have what it takes.  You're weak.  I hate you.

CM:
You shouldn't say those things.  I'm sorry that you're so unhappy.  You've had a hard life.  Can you tell me how you're feeling and what you need?  What are you afraid of? 

RM:
Oh, you're so full of shit!  I'm afraid of people like you coming out of the woodwork and destroying my life, that's what I'm afraid of!

CM:
That was a mean thing to say.  You shouldn't say that.  You're only hurting yourself when you talk or act like that.

RM:
Whatever!  I'm fine!  I don't have a problem telling you what the hell is wrong with you.  It's plain as day, and it's not my problem.  It's your problem! 

CM:
Oh!  I remember that!  I remember that from the first Staff Meeting.  I got in trouble for what you said.  I have learned how to talk so that boundaries can be set and problems solved without hurting people's feelings.  But people's feelings get hurt anyway.  Is that because it's really you talking, or because they see what they want to see? 

RM:
Good question.  You have picked up some good phrases and skills, but you don't have the nuts for it, as our old drum teacher used to say.  You have to want to hurt people to say stuff like that.  You don't. 

CM:
So it wasn't you who said that, it was me.  And it really wasn't my fault, it was theirs, even though I am willing to consider their hurt and care for them. 

RM:
Probably.  You're very confused. 

CM:
Yes, I suppose I am.  And you're very cruel. 

RM:
Yes, I suppose I am.  So now what?

I may have found a fuck-buddy.  I'm elated. 

Elated is a great word for this.  I'm experiencing an evolutionary trigger.  It's one of those things where I'm compelled to feel a certain way and this feeling creates a power imbalance.  In this case, he has more power.  WAY more power!  It just so happens that he's 10 years my junior and is dumbfoundingly gorgeous.  Lets do the math: He can pick and choose anyone he wants, and therefore could decide to ignore me at a moment's notice for reasons that are obvious and need not be articulated.  I am lucky to be with him.  I need to "count my blessings".  And I have no room with which to bargain should I have a want or need.  The longer he stays with me, the more of this debt builds up and I begin to feel less than.  But right now, I feel incredibly lucky and elated.  The proof is in how I don't want to check my voice mail to see if he's called because I don't want to get hit with the news that he didn't.  I don't want this elation to end so I'm afraid of the truth.  The Risk is huge. 

The compensation for this is that for as long as it lasts, I have more power than certain other women.  Being able to attract such an alpha is extreme clout amongst and within the circle of women.  He has buying power and his own home and all that.  The compulsion is to show him off.  The longer this goes on or the more women find out about it, a very different kind of debt builds up.  I have enough clout that I can tell another woman what is wrong with her without impugnity, snub lesser females or pick and choose amongst the highest ranking females to be my friends.  At the same time, a sense of jealousy and envy builds up amongst the lower ranking females so that they would be inclined to hurt me if they could get away with it.  The alpha women sort themselves out and compete by comparing how powerful their men are. 

At pre-conscious levels, we all know about this stuff.  I remember learning it in my 20's.  Not consciously, but learning by instinct.  I had a boyfriend for a while who was the most beautiful man I'd ever seen at the time.  Making love or being seen with him was pure glory.  But as time went on, I began to sabotage it.  I teased him in public and couldn't understand why.  It was because of the debt that was building up.  I felt so inferior compared to him, that I needed him to come down a bit.  It controled me.  He asked me to stop.  I couldn't.  I was so sorry and ashamed, but I couldn't stop.  So, he dumped me.  The pain is just under the surface even though it was over 25 years ago.  The memory is lodged in a part of my brain that negotiates this darkened minefield. 

All this time I've been searching for the meaning of that experience.  Now, I see it.  It's an animal instinct that drives us to improve the condition of the species.  That's all.  How embarrassing. 

I notice the compulsion surfacing again now. 

Gosh, I hope he's a good sport and is willing to listen to me talk about this.  I don't want to go through it again.  And I know the poor guy is frustrated by being surrounded by bitchy women.  This could help him understand it all and not take it personally.  It's so not personal.  It's totally pre-personal.  He's such a sweetheart.  He doesn't deserve that. 

All this power juggling is terribly exhausting.  There needs to be more to life than this.  It's really a huge waste of energy. 

As a result of that experience with the boyfriend of 25 years ago, I avoid this place like the plague.  I experience fear and revulsion around alpha males and alpha females and "prefer to stick to my own kind".  This too is an evolutionary pattern.  Since I was cast down from the throneroom of alphas, I must play a whole different game amongst the non-alphas.  It's difficult to rise above or transcend myself because there is this glass ceiling.  If I improve my life, then I run the risk of becoming a target for those Alpha females.  I might then be more attractive to an Alpha male, but again, if I attract an Alpha male, I become a target for female on female violence.  When I cross that line, I sense it in my blood.  It has a smell.  It's purely an animal instinct. 

So, one of the things I don't want to do yet is be seen with this man.  I'm not ready for it.  I need more consciousness first.  It's too powerful of a trigger.  I want to talk with him about this first.  So next time we're naked and exhausted - if there is a "next-time" - I'll tell him who I am and what I'm about.  We're gonna have to talk about it anyway, because the crap in the air is getting in the way of the sex.  In the interest of improving the sex, it has to be brought up.  Right?  Right.