I will the machine.

Tag: narcissistic abuse

  • Take a Look at Yourself in the Sword

    Before I can finish writing the story of another, I have to look at something about my own.

    Photo © Tristan Sheldon

    One day, when I was in elementary school, Papa took me to the park. I was spinning the faces of the tick-tack-toe game on the playground by myself when another little girl came up to me and asked what I was doing.

    “Does it matter to you?” I snapped.

    She looked at me with complete paralysis for a long moment, and then ran away. Papa heard the whole thing. He marched across the mulch and lectured me about how incredibly unkind I was, and made me apologize to her on the spot.

    I remembered how badly I wanted to be one of the popular girls I admired in school. I connected that with how unwelcome they made me feel, and so I tried on that behavior for myself that day.

    That was the first and the final time I tried to become someone I was not.

    That memory stands out more vividly than most from that time period. And although I can’t be sure, I believe Papa’s quick motion to step toward my hurtful response, and forcing me to correct it on the spot, played a major role in me learning to both self-analyze and adapt reflexively.

    He taught me to watch for my impact on others before my parents had the opportunity to poison my self-awareness with permanent doubt.

    To the point that I started to turn that reflective surface back at them. I would narrate all of the ways they caused my siblings and I harm, and hoped they would be invested in correcting it the way I was taught to when I misstepped.

    But it was intolerable to them, and I was punished for then seeking the right thing.

    How disorienting.

    _____

    If someone was to say to you that they could see right through you,

    what is the first thought that comes up for you?

    That it’s some woo-woo shit?

    Does it make you want to back away?

    Are you curious about what they may perceive?

    Could you then explain why?

    Because the children of people who could not look at themselves, because they would not survive the clear image if they did, are forced to adapt in one of two ways:

    Look away, from both the behavior that hurts them, and themselves,

    or look closer.

    And oh, how has choosing the latter both saved me,

    and devastated me.

    _____

    I had to step back from someone important to me, again.

    I do this a lot, and it’s almost always once I see that someone isn’t moving in a way that parallels their words.

    And people do this a lot.

    “I want this,” -> I will choose not to act on that right now.

    “You’re so smart,” -> I will respond negatively to you not taking my advice.

    “I’m a good person,” -> I will communicate to others that you are not.

    And the space between,

    is where I draw my sword.

    I had to learn sensitivity to behavioral patterns when I was so young in order to not lose my grip on what the truth was, and to predict the reactions of people that should have been a safe harbor.

    Only recently have I learned that this sense can be used to recognize friends, too.

    And so in spaces where I used to swing that blade at anyone who moved,

    I just hold it up quietly and let them show me who they are.

    And because the sword has two faces,

    they see their reflection,

    and I see mine.

    And no matter how they choose to respond to their own clear image,

    I never lose me,

    even if I have to stand with only her for a while.

  • Letters to Thanatos: A 300 Prelude

    Daemon of nonviolent death,

    We’ll speak in person soon, in a quiet place. Just when I started feeling steady, I up and upped the stakes on myself again.

    I’ve had some ask what the impetus is to keep coming back to the rail trail for big distances when I could just as soon start them from my front door and go anywhere else. The cold little voice on my shoulder says it counts less, and I giggle because the pain inflicted by monotony and metronome turns you inward in a sharper way than the mountain and the wood.

    I cannot hide from you there.

    Some cannot survive you there.

    I come back to you in rehearsal of the day when you’ve decided I’ve done enough, hoping I can appeal to your mercy to meet me with nothing left unsaid.

    I’m certain reckoning doesn’t come after death, but in the centuries-long moments before; it will land like an assault for those whose closets rattle with skeletons not yet dead.

    And so,

    I draw my sword.

    _____

    The sound of clanging metal ascends.

    I put my body on notice yesterday with a 6.5-hour simmer on the trail. It took minutes to remember why I thrive out there even as I continue to describe my one-day completions of the trail as “worse than Kanza” (now known as Unbound). It’s flat. It’s unglamorous. It’s incredibly painful because your only relief is to stop. It’s virtually impossible to blame anything but you if you fail. It’s so predictable and boring that I have the privilege of settling into this virtually unkillable rhythm, listen to the same new song on loop, and become irrationally offended when it’s interrupted.

    I learned in Endogenous Rex that I am most driven when I let everyone else disappear. Getting dropped means innumerable distractions are eliminated. Thanatos came to reap all hope of me finding love for classic competition again and returned me to the holy ground that has weathered everything. The manger where I am allowed to understand my own voice without static.

    My sanctum is internal, the ability to observe my own patterns and come back out at will- that observance is why my writing sounds like it does. It’s how I wasn’t molded by the environment I grew up in, but cut out the bullshit in spite of it. The nearer I draw toward the dark, the more clearly I can discern its language.

    I am privileged to say what it whispers, and what I show you, are the same.

    _____

    Practical updates:

    I cannot find record of someone riding from Kansas City to the end of the Katy Trail within a day. I was keeping a very conservative goal time because 80 additional miles on top of what I have previously done is major, but now I will target sub-24 hours from state-line to state-line.

    I plan to start on Saturday, October 4th, at 6:00 p.m. This is subject to vary if weather becomes an issue.

    I will update again when I have a Trackleaders link. If you aren’t familiar, this link will allow you to view my movement/location live for the entire pursuit. This link can be shared with anyone, and all are welcome to intercept in person.

    But because I am a woman, let me make this super clear:

    I am not polite toward questionable company, and my team will never be far away. If you show up with an ulterior motive, I will know.