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sillypsist
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i was assaulted at the weekend. no visual scars but i now feel shaky about it.
i am looking after a friend whose partner is dying in hospital, any day now. i'm doing her shopping, and general support stuff. she lives on a housing estate known for occasional racial troubles.
walking thru the estate on sunday, i guess i was fairly occupied, a girl on a mission, my tiny frame on brisk auto-weave thru the flak. then her face appears suddenly, blocking my view, eyes hooked into mine. "can i touch you?" she asked. i slowed to move sideways, asking "wha-?" "can i touch you tho?" this time with more distaste i think, and her hand came up to follow me and started ramming firm and fast into my cheek, "can i TOOUUCH-". my face sprang back, my arm swung up and smashed her hand hard back into her face. my mometum pushed me on past as she crouched to the floor. the whole thing took maybe less than five seconds, like i had swatted a huge bee out of my path. i had too much on to worry about it.
but altho i did not stop, i looked back, saw her holding her mouth, watching me. her eyes looked hurt and terrified and confused, as if she did not know what had happened to her. i thought that should've been my expression. instead, i felt like the cold mercenary warrior she had apparently accused me of being.
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i look the opposite of a warrior: i'm tiny-framed and have that blonde and slightly sweet-dopey-happy look. i have a 'mental condition' that occasionally makes me lose track of where or who i am. and i'm told i have a sunny 'aura' that attracts people toward me. often these people are a bit...strange. i have had to learn to take care, discipline and protect myself. but sometimes funny things break thru. ---- but i like to be open. to adventure and. it's hard to keep a balance.
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i felt so bad for her. i'm not sure if i'm now imagining this but i believe i've seen her before, exchanged smiles, possibly a sexy smile. she's kinda good-looking, healthy skin. a few hours later i went back to the spot and waited a while. i asked at a local shop if they'd seen it happen, knew who she was. but no. they told me to phone the police.
ummm. i'm looking for something in this. i don't know what.
i'm having trouble connecting in here.
CAN I TOUCH YOU?
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is this better stuck here? salvaging my post from lost forum, 'ever lost your independence?'
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oh dammit dammit.
thank you clever.
things will never be the same again. here we go.
hope this is useful.
my poor poor mother was a lonely, lost and confused woman. my globetrotting daddy uprooted her from sweden, a round-the-world honeymoon, me conceived en route to crashing in england. suddenly mummy got scared of life -- terrified. i'm an only child. she clung on to me so tight i was asphyxiating. she collapsed herself into a wheelchair and never bothered to learn more than very basic english. isolated herself. while daddy buckled down and provided, i was being straitjacketed into mummy's little helper role. claustrophobia was setting in.
at 12 years i was diagnosed with dissociative identity disorder (mpd) and hyperactivity disorder. hectic, i called it. bouncing off the fucking walls. doc and mum started trying to ram meds down me. but WTF -- mum was the real crazy. i said NOOOOOOO to meds. i just instinctively knew that whatever this thing was in me, it was a part of me. and i needed to ride it, explore it, love it. not take a sledgehammer to it. so i ran away at 13, onto a train to london. visions of myself raped and mutilated all over the queen's garden. lucky me, i met a saint-juggler-musician who introduced me to squatland. lots and lots of long stories.
it's been a total helter-skelter. scary and so beautiful. it still is. somewhere in all the chaos i know i must have made a decision to not be like mum (rest her troubled soul). i am daddy's girl. i had to get out. i like scary things. they make me feel alive.
i also decided i have no time for doctors' diagnoses, experts and other-people's labels. squatland introduced me to 'alternative therapies'. combining energised meditation, yoga, chemicals. clever, do you know about kundalini?? research suggests a minority of people are born with excess kundalini flow. if you don't deal with it, learn to guide and temper it, it short-circuits your neurons. sound familiar? yes i consider myself a 'kundalini child'. don't laugh. read up.
i'm wigging out only about twice a year now. that seems normal around here -- just i feel i'm better prepared than most people. i'm feeling it's all a ritual. still as unpredictable as ever. i love it. indepedence is the hardest, scariest, most rewarding thing.
ahhhh. press submit.
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