Isolation
I have been in isolation now for over 30 years give and take the odd year when I was married and the years I was raising my son. People were around me but I was always seeking to remove myself from other people and be by myself. Just to decompress and to take the edge off. And it continues till this day. I am a burn victim in the emotional sense. All my senses are raw and open and all things filter through me. I've been this way since inception.
As a baby I was isolated. Locked in a room till I broke down the crib as I grew older and stronger. Then, like the tethered elephant captured, a metal clasp around its foot for months and years, learns not to move, not to venture, not to seek its freedom - even after the metal clasp is removed. Its will has been broken - so my urge to seek out human connection has been removed.
I hated being alone as a baby with only stuffed animals and a loving mama cat who would venture in to visit. The occasional visit too from humans and I would be held, fed, changed, played with and returned to the room, in spite of my hysterics.
Becoming a ghost and shadow in the world of the living is an easy transition when you're conditioned at such an early age. If it weren't for my obesity and belligerence as a school child I would hardly have been seen at all. I dissolved completely at 11 and wasn't seen again till my physical afflictions began surfacing.
I hid from the world behind doors, walls, glasses, afflictions, defenses and hiding places only the runaways and derelicts knew about.
For years, I have been in solitary isolation in rooms, apartments, in fields and under trees. Away from touch and chatter, the internet my mode of connection. My environment controlled in a comfortable way until the peace is shattered by a noise, smell, trigger - then - it is management time - coping - breathing - praying.
And the times when I must venture out are disasters waiting to happen, with no social skills or understanding how this planet works and what form to take in order not to rattle the societal cage. What to say, how to say it - so as to make visible the shadow woman, for more often than not I am not heard or seen or when I am - pushed over and taken advantage of.
No boundaries work both ways - they would keep me safe and they would allow others to know my limitations and strengths. I possess none.
So barriers are built and towers are erected and moats are lifted and darkness descends with a glimmer from a screen in the desert of the Negev where in the small hours of the night noises are low, the senses at ease and the only dread at the surface is what tomorrow will bring and how will I make it through.
As a baby I was isolated. Locked in a room till I broke down the crib as I grew older and stronger. Then, like the tethered elephant captured, a metal clasp around its foot for months and years, learns not to move, not to venture, not to seek its freedom - even after the metal clasp is removed. Its will has been broken - so my urge to seek out human connection has been removed.
I hated being alone as a baby with only stuffed animals and a loving mama cat who would venture in to visit. The occasional visit too from humans and I would be held, fed, changed, played with and returned to the room, in spite of my hysterics.
Becoming a ghost and shadow in the world of the living is an easy transition when you're conditioned at such an early age. If it weren't for my obesity and belligerence as a school child I would hardly have been seen at all. I dissolved completely at 11 and wasn't seen again till my physical afflictions began surfacing.
I hid from the world behind doors, walls, glasses, afflictions, defenses and hiding places only the runaways and derelicts knew about.
For years, I have been in solitary isolation in rooms, apartments, in fields and under trees. Away from touch and chatter, the internet my mode of connection. My environment controlled in a comfortable way until the peace is shattered by a noise, smell, trigger - then - it is management time - coping - breathing - praying.
And the times when I must venture out are disasters waiting to happen, with no social skills or understanding how this planet works and what form to take in order not to rattle the societal cage. What to say, how to say it - so as to make visible the shadow woman, for more often than not I am not heard or seen or when I am - pushed over and taken advantage of.
No boundaries work both ways - they would keep me safe and they would allow others to know my limitations and strengths. I possess none.
So barriers are built and towers are erected and moats are lifted and darkness descends with a glimmer from a screen in the desert of the Negev where in the small hours of the night noises are low, the senses at ease and the only dread at the surface is what tomorrow will bring and how will I make it through.
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