To: K-list
Recieved: 2000/07/05 15:18
Subject: Re: [K-list] Breaking up is hard to do.
From: Lynda
On 2000/07/05 15:18, Lynda posted thus to the K-list:
Dear Wim
You wrote-
> What a very good response you wrote.
> It supports the clarification that I gained after a period some time ago
> when I thought I was the victim: " Believing that I was the victim"....
> acting accordingly, playing it for all it was worth... acting it out,
> believing it was me... not the actor.
> Also, quite a while ago on this list, I thought I was the subject of a
gang
> attack... somehow I saw some light...
> And it could be that I look like someone who writes or acts like someone
> that starts an attack that may escalate into a gang attack, or it looks
like
> that I participate in it... some ppl. told me to cool it... which I think
I
> did... and I hope I did...
> Of course from my perspective I am loaded with good intentions..., I even
> think that I say things just right...
> Of course from the perspective of the victim the whole world (except for
the
> other victims or underdogs in it) is out there to get them... to pop
their
> balloon, their bubble...
>
> Sometimes and somewhere there falls a crack in that protective shell,
> through which the "hero of victims" sees some light... have seen it
happen
> often enough...
>
> The bubble. Yes, this is a cliche, but then the walls of that bubble are
> plastered with cliches., the bubble that a victim lives in, does not allow
> for cracks, not one. The bubble starts out like a soap bubble, a fairy
tale
> world of inner glow, but the fairy is a scared little being, look at the
> sorrowful glimmer of hope in its eyes. Slowly and over time, beautiful
> sayings of hope are stuck on the inside of the walls, slowly the light
that
> comes from outside cannot enter any more. The number of beautiful
consoling
> posters increases, angel cards, love cards, get well cards, expressions of
> sympahy. There is a cliche (lovely worded and embellished) taped over
every
> thin spot through which some light may come through.
>
> I do not know, apparently, how to gently reach in my hand... to extend it
to
> El... I do love El... I wish with all my heart that she would stay, not
to
> float her bubble again and keep it afloat, but to reach out her hand, from
> her inside... There is a fine line there somewhere, a tab you can lift...
> El do not take your bubble elsewhere. .... I know this hurts you again...
> how come? How come? Tell us all... your life, your suffering, your's, you,
> you, you...
> Others will have to speak for themselves, El, you just now, it is your
life,
> your suffering, your pain.., show us...
>
> There are no victims because there are no winners... This, life, is not a
> game.... this life is child's play. Young little gods and goddesses
playing,
> that play disturbed a long time ago.
My heart is pounding so I will try to put in to words what I am feeling.
I found most of what you had to say insufferably patronising. I know this
says far more about me than it says anything about you, and that the part of
myself I see 'reflected' in your words is what is making me feel nauseous. I
want to add that when my father died the process had a profound effect on me
and I am not ignoring that there are other things going on. The 'come on
El -tell us all about it' bit gave me a sense of voyeurism.
But ( and yes there's always a but with me) - victims and sad fairys in
bubbles?
You say-
> Of course from the perspective of the victim the whole world (except for
the
> other victims or underdogs in it) is out there to get them... to pop
their
> balloon, their bubble...
And then say-
> I do not know, apparently, how to gently reach in my hand...
Does this mean that the supposed victim's perspective that some one wishes
to burst their bubble is indeed correct? Are you able to put your hand in a
bubble, however 'gently', without it's usual vanishing act?
The whole buble thing conjures up soap advert images in my mind and I have
great difficulty seeing myself in any thing so 'clean', I feel far too
'grubby'. If I do really stretch my imagination and try to see myself as a
sad eyed fairy in a bubble of unreality, I think I'd be really upset if
someone took it upon themselves to burst it, even if they did have 'good
intentions'.
To use a phrase of Susan's, another woman on this list that I have come to
admire respect and feel gratitude and love for, this whole thing 'smacks' of
'the grow god dammit' school of thought, however much it is couched in pure
and cleansing lather.
Oh what a lot of words....
Do I say with love?
Would that be accurate? I suspect I have made contact with ire, but love can
encompass ire - can it not?
Lynda
A circle is the longest distance to the same point. - Tom Stoppard.
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