Sentimentos em mim do asperamente
dos homens das primeiras eras…
As primaveras de sarcasmo
intermitentemente no meu coração arlequinal…
Outras vezes é um doente, um frio
na minha alma doente como um longo som redondo
Sou um tupi tangendo um alaúde!
De Paulicéia desvairada (1922)
Mário de Andrade
There is Amar en tiempos revueltos, and there is also Isabel la Católica. I would love to just watch all of these things on RTVE and withdraw from the world entirely. But it is a beautiful fall now, my favorite season outdoors.
What is the next step: should I consider denial, magical thinking, evasion, avoidance, not taking responsibility — does any of this apply to me? (There are things I am hiding from, but do the words listed name the phenomenon accurately?) Is this the next step, even, or a future one?
The next step: maintain the first. Name the things that feel problematic (e.g. “this is an imposition”) and notice the destructive things I say to myself. Rather than adhere to any kind of discipline, even “be good to yourself” (although that is still a good lemma to remember), think: integrate.
Also: the point of writing these papers is actually therapy. Even if they are not good, or original, working on them is therapeutic.
I would like this book and I think I should get hold of it. (I wish we had books in our own library.) But it would be very amusing to read.
I always said the problem I had after Reeducation was loss of voice. And earlier on, it had apparently been difficult to get one. Someone once told me that all those sore throats I used to get as a child–it was my stress reaction–were a sign that I had something to say that I was not saying.
Voice. The colonization of my voice earlier on. The writer’s block after Reeducation. The question of whether it was Reeducation primarily, or whether it had more to do with the earlier colonization. This has to be thought about in relation to the dreams I have, where my public self is hiding my inner self from view so as to keep it from harm.
Colonise la douleur avec ta voix.
Just when I thought I would never be able to work on this topic without being so engulfed in various aspects of panic and claustrophobia that I would always be forced two steps back for each one forward, the panic stopped.
It used to be that I would be panicked already, and the panic would increase to intolerable degrees once I started working. Now it decreases.
There is a practical issue in all of this, that is not psychoanalytic: I was trained to think it was inevitable to undertake projects for which I was not prepared on deadlines that were unrealistically short. I always wanted to say no: work on things closer to field, on more realistic schedules, but was always falsely told that was childish.
It is the memory of those voices, and the poor decisions they urged me to take, that both fuels and supports my general panic in several ways.
In any case I am more intelligent than the average intelligent person and I think that if I can have the panic keep stopping like this I may be able to get something done.
In my case everything has to do with giving oneself enough time: both during each day, and from beginning to end of a project. I think it is a problem in academics that they are so fixated on the idea of saving time. It is so anorexic.
I think much of my depression and disorientation came from giving up my research focus and rhythm. Research and writing give focus and order to the day and I had always had them. I gave up a great piece of myself — more than that, I renounced most of myself — and there was no good reason for it.
I really do not like only working when there is some sort of deadline, which is the mode I fell into when I gave up focus and rhythm.
I really like only teaching two real classes, as I am now. It makes all the difference. I feel as though I am still repeating old errors, on the one hand. On the other it seems as though that era could be ending. With it ends the era of dreaming of other things, so this juncture is both happy and sad.
Also today, there is someone I envy. Envy is not an emotion I normally have. But I am envious of one who did not self-destruct. And was willing to step on people. And is now happy and admired. If I had psychoanalysis I would look at this, because it is a point of pain.