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people who need people 3

September 24, 2013

I’m back to endings, with things I began in the spring, hopeful.

No more Towson on Tuesday nights.

No more kids-in-gardens.

DC, deferred. Perhaps indefinitely.

 

I’ve read that loneliness is being estranged from your selves.

I keep encountering new selves — but then I put them off:

I have “important work” to do, helping other people.

 

Except that — helping other people get what I never got

makes me angry, resentful.

 

Without any irony, I think to myself:

when will I get what I need?

When will someone put me first?

I have interesting ideas — why doesn’t anyone care about them?

 

Working through more of my mother issues.

Per Poulter, my “unpredictable mother” performed “emotional terrorism”.

Her “unspoken rules” are why I can’t move forward with what I know I want.

Instead, I find others, strangers, to “help”. They deserve help.

 

I wonder if my new friends will write back.

So far, mostly, no.

 

Spouses says writing to them was . . . odd, unexpected.

 

It would be grand if someone

loved hearing from me &

wrote back. On paper. With stamps.

 

I want things no one else wants.

I want to talk about things no one else cares about.

 

I want to stop doing what everyone else thinks I should be doing.

 

But that leaves me alone with . . . my selves.

Whom I’ve been running from since 1973.

Is it safe to come out?

Can we find acceptance . . . anywhere?

Who are we?

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