After having the issue of the insanity declaration made a year ago on a mailing list linked to the social centre project criticized and trashed by (s) – kind dear sweet soul – on another mailing list linked to the anarchist group doing its thing at the university. Getting this support in breaking the silence. Told that I’m not crazy, but that it’s the arguments used against having me speaking my reality that are totally bonkers. It was like having somebody doing CPR on me.
I was at a meeting with the a-group today, and for the first time, I wasn’t so afraid. I felt comfort in (s) being there. Maybe I can feel safe in this group.
(d) coming here. Listening to the endless repetitive thoughts by a person gone mad by the stonewalling * tactics to kill my speech. Life disappearing, hope and sanity disappearing hand in hand. Me going deeper into self-hatred bitterness and drinking. It was one of the conditions for the radical exchange. No drinking. And the constant talking talking and feeling feeling and self-reflection lead to a positive change. My numb and madly hurting insides ripped out and up in the air. Disoriented and disorganized stumbling onto some new paths. Some sanity. Islands of clarity.
Land growing bigger. (p) giving so much of herself. The rage and clear analysis, when I was still blaming myself. The love and patience. Her listening and listening and supporting my tries towards dialogue that she herself did not believe would happen. Seeing it more clearly than me. There’s no way, cause there’s simply no will. It was never there. For a year I tried. Not knowing what to do. Desperate. Self-hating, self-blaming. Believing. Thinking that when people say “this is important”, “feminism is important”, and this needs to be discussed “later”, “not now, later”, “at another time, in another place when it’s more convenient and appropriate”. Really naively believing that this was so. And not just words to build a wall. Words that instead of connecting, create a distance. Pushing me into madness.
I don’t know how to express my gratitude to her. I wish I could. I will try. At least. I hope to return some of the love she’s so graciously shared with me.
And the love that was there by (e) and all the supportive emails, and chats, and (j) coming from germany. The talks all over Europe. With people who live the same. Why if we are so many, is it so? Why don’t we break free? Take hold of a small island of clarity. Connect and share and plan and change. It would be easy. It could be really easy.
Like today. Another meeting. Ladyfest. Feeling included. Long talk about how the statement presented at the social centre should be formulated. Getting the bans dissolved for May 7 – 10. Trying to make sense out of this Hex Hunt with a group of women. Feeling support. For the first time: No one’s left behind. Today I felt it. I felt carried. Not the usual pushing and pulling. I know this will not last forever. But these moments are important to focus on. Cause usually I’m there with the negative. Looking at it, trying to solve it. Getting pulled in. Getting numb. Not feeling the love anymore. Not believing in it anymore. And then it’s just there. Like today. A whole room of it. No hatred, just sharing, and trying to resolve things.
I wish life was always like this.
* i thought i wouldn’t put this particular link to this word, because (1) marriage is prison and slavery and prostitution and (2) the advice sincerely sucks. cause if the little woman just smiles a bit more, shuts her yap, and bites her tongue and just makes an effort to appreciate how great this asshole really is – then she has a chance of saving this wonderfully dysfunctional relationship. but (3) the description of the patterns played out fits really well with my own experiences (including the sexist “stop criticizing you horrible bitch!” “don’t feel uncomfortable, show appreciation and smile!”-advice)