In Reeducation, it was considered “inappropriate” or evidence of “denial” not to feel fearful or not to be so. You were to “learn to actually feel your feelings” which meant to give any fears you did have free rein. I had a book contract that according to Reeducation it was inappropriate that a person like me should have been able to get, and a Fulbright grant Reeducation thought I should be afraid to take since it meant crossing the sea. I gave them up because to me, the worst thing is to be accused of having no feelings or not having the right feelings, and I will do anything, mutilate myself in just about any way that is required, to counter or evade such accusations.
I had not been afraid of traveling, but I had been of the book. Now one of the press’ readers for this book has written one on the same topic, that makes arguments similar to mine. He says it is an imperfect book because it is beyond him to do as good a job on the topic as should be done, but that he did it anyway. If Reeducation had not been destructive, it would have reminded me that this was the right attitude, and not kept on insisting I could not be worthy.
Reeducation misunderstood it, but there is something to the idea of being allowed, or allowing yourself, to feel your own feelings. When we were children, there were certain perceptions we were not to have, and feelings we were not to have or at the very least not to mention or show. Instead, then, any time it is appropriate that we should assert ourselves against a majority, or express pain, we feel instead a blinding rage we cannot identify, a sense of shame so heavy we can barely stand under it, and a desire for death or disappearance that makes it impossible to speak. We have similar reactions if we have to turn anyone down for anything, and are stuck speechless. I become slightly dissociative, as though my head were elsewhere, and hold my breath.
There are three or four people I need to face and say things to, and that I am avoiding because I am afraid. An editor, because I am missing a deadline, because I cannot work on Vallejo fast, because I feel so insane/am so incapacitated on days I am supposed to work on him that I can only get a lucid hour or so and I lose the rest of the day to self-hatred … such that I cannot often afford to take that hour, given what goes on in the rest of the 23 and thus, all that does not get done in that time.
My father and his mover, because something got broken that opened a vein of grief in me so wide that I just had to say something. I should have said it was all right or not mentioned it because then I could have avoided conflict or avoided the similarly painful possibility that people might not care, or might just isolate me until I got over it or learned not to mention it. I am terrified of their reactions or non reactions and very upset with myself for having said anything. I am hiding in Barcelona in another identity, the one who feels well and does research in a rational state, but I am going to have to face all of these things soon.
What will the method be? I suppose I will just have to remind myself that it is all right to be human, even if in my original upbringing some others only wanted me to be human insofar as it serveed them.
Then there is my department head because I require a more rational workplace than we have had. I don’t know that anyone else cares, or that anyone else things we deserve this, or that anyone else knows what a more rational workplace might look like. But other departments in our same university are far more rational.
What will the method be here? I am not sure, as I am not sure to what attitude I may be talking to, or what agenda. But something must be said, and then done.