Thursday, September 15, 2011

Things unspoken

I had a lot of things on my mind this morning. I woke up and started reading about race and racism in Seattle; an article in The Stranger entitled, aptly enough, “Deeply Embarrassed White People Talking Awkwardly About Race.” It made me think about how so many of us avoid so many topics because we don't know HOW to talk about them. Obviously, race is a major one. But there are others, and I was reminded of how much unintentional damage we can do when we don't know how to talk about things.

Case in point: Pam. Now, Pam is my next door neighbor to the west (I think). Yesterday when I got home from the county attorney's office, Pam was standing outside her trailer. I went to chat with her. See, when the police took Jodie away a week ago, Jodie left with the ignition key for the truck... and with the truck parked in front of Pam's trailer. This blocks Pam's access a bit to her cute little plantings right out front, so I had been proactive in telling Pam the day after the Incident that I would try to get the truck moved ASAP, but that I didn't have the keys. I wanted to apologize to her again, and tell her a bit of an update on a timeline.

What followed was a conversation that hit a few hot buttons for me.

First of all... I have known her since May as “Pat,” because that's the name Jodie gave me. That's the name Jodie had called her since she (J) had moved in. As it turned out... that isn't her name. It's PaM. But she had never figured out how to tell Jodie that. Now, to me... especially because I am NOTORIOUS for forgetting people's names, or having them mis-interpreted, or what not... knowing someone's name is a really big deal. I want people to correct me when I call them the wrong name. I've called people the wrong name for two weeks at a stretch, and been utterly mortified when someone finally told me. It's like walking around for two weeks with lipstick on one's teeth and toilet paper hanging out of your asscrack (which shouldn't be showing, but I digress). And more mortifying than that is the thought of the little bit of deflation people must feel when being called the wrong thing. I am probably overly sensitive to worrying about such things; but I have a real issue with causing people hurt unintentionally. (Conversely or perversely, I don't give a shit about causing people discomfort because of who I am or how I choose to live my life.) So I was glad to know her real name. I just wondered... why on earth did she never correct Jodie? What is the fear there?

She was asking what was up with Jodie, and I was giving her some bare bones... sensing she really didn't want to know much. And she said at some point... “it's just a domestic dispute... it's not like Jodie robbed a bank or something!”

sigh. Just, sigh.

I didn't call her out on that, but it really hit me just how much people still minimize domestic violence. And I admit it gave me a twinge of something... some minimizing of my experiences, of my life, of the work I had dedicated my life to.  I realized, though, that people just often don't know how to talk about it...and so they take whatever perspective they can find.

It's funny, though. The actual Incident caused me less damage and less grief than the aftermath has. The confusion and loneliness and wondering... the not-knowing has been the worst. Not knowing when Jodie will get out. Not knowing how Jodie is feeling or thinking about this mess. Not knowing whether this will be enough to make her realize she has a problem... that she is an addict.

One of the big things that has come out of this for me is that I started attending Al-Anon meetings. Respecting the confidentiality of a 12-step program, I will just say this for now: it is utterly mind-bending to hear your own life coming out of someone else's mouth, unbidden. Humbling, in a way, to know that we really are not alone, none of us. That we really are not as unique as we think.  I admit to remaining deeply skeptical about 12-step programs in general, and the higher power stuff in particular (as someone who is sometimes atheist and sometimes agnostic, there's really no other way I could be).  But... I am not kidding.  The two meetings I have attended thus far have given me so much food for thought, and so many tools to deal with the confusion I'm feeling.  I'm going to keep going.

Meeting yesterday with the county attorney was an eye-opening experience, too. While there are all kinds of interesting little bits that sparked my curiosity and my intellectual thirst, I just want to note one big one.

Kristin (the CA) said to me that I needed to be aware that defense attorneys will often try to use any and all information about the victim as a smear tactic. Later, she asked me what I would do if Jodie tried to manipulate me somehow into recanting my report. I laughed really hard at that... manipulation and blackmail really only work on people who have secrets. I try very hard to live a transparent life (probably a little TOO transparent for some people), and have very few secrets. Very, very few. Without secrets, no one else has much power over me.

I mean, really... think about it. How much time, energy, effort are wasted every day by people working frantically to keep their secrets intact, hidden? How many different parts of one person's life are affected by one secret? It's mind-boggling, when you start to think about it.

And yet... I found myself keeping a secret this past week. I wanted to keep the domestic violence incident under wraps, shared with only a select group of people. I didn't intend to tell my family (other than my sister, who is privy to my Twitter as well as LJ and FB). It wasn't because I was ashamed. It wasn't because I was afraid of how people would look at me differently. It was mostly... I didn't want people to know this about Jodie. I didn't want people to judge Jodie without knowing all the facts, without knowing HER. And, to be honest, I didn't want people telling me what to do. People have told me what to do countless times since last Thursday. “Leave him, kick the bum out, don't ever speak to him again, make him do this or that or something else... what is WRONG with you that you are even CONSIDERING continuing a relationship with someone who hit and kicked you?!”

I've heard all of those, and a whole bunch more. I've probably said some of them in the past. Goddess forgive me, because boy howdy... I have sinned. The sin of pride and of thinking I know better, that I am more evolved than thou. The sin of believing that if only people were a little more AWARE of themselves, a little more with-it...

I really am just insufferable sometimes. I can see that now.

One of the readings at the Al-Anon meeting tonight was about remembering that none of us know what is in another person's mind and heart... none of us know what lessons that person's higher power is teaching them. None of us CAN know. And thus, we cannot know the “best” way for them to conduct themselves.  We can only seek the best way for ourselves. 

The other reading was about remembering that the only business that is ours is... our own. Learning to stop trying to control other people through advice and edicts, and focusing instead on our own shit, is one of the hardest lessons for a would-be world-saver to learn. But it's a lesson I HAVE to learn. I have to.

I'm coming to be almost thankful that this happened... that Jodie erupted, that I erupted in response, that the police were called, that my whole life has been turned upside down yet AGAIN. I am learning so much about myself... and a lot of it isn't pretty. But it's all stuff that I can and will work on, and I can only become a better person for it.

I am off to shower and drive to Burlington. Tomorrow morning, I drive to Le Claire, then into Davenport to meet with Jodie's parole officer. I was scared to death earlier about this. Now I have peace.

It's amazing how that Serenity Prayer takes on so much power when it's echoed by five, ten, a dozen voices... and when you are desperately trying to figure out whether or not you can change something.

Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change
The courage to change the things I can
And the wisdom to know the difference.

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