Fear of Loss

I haven't posted in while...I have about six drafts that I've been "Meaning" to catch up on, but revisiting all of them left me with a sort of hollow tone in my head. If you're looking for my recent adventures, wait for another post. This is one of the navel gazing philosophy type of posts that have nothing to do with anything but me...

Easy is not always simple, simple is not always easy. I changed The Autistic Kid's seat yesterday. First we invited, then we had the class invite him. Then Preferred Objects like an entire box of paperclips were placed strategically (he was on to me). Finally, the extra preferred objects all migrated to his new seat to wait for him, and when he landed in his new seat I sat with him and held his hand while he hugged all those precious objects to himself and just cried and cried. He used my hand to wipe his face.

But he stayed in his new seat.

Fear of loss hobbles us. It's hobbled me. Watching my living and social situation mushroom into something truly grotesque, and the same time watching myself watch myself, unable and unwilling to walk away for fear of not finding this one, precious thing again. Clutching useless (to others) abstract (to others) random objects to my chest because they will help me float while I'm adrift, changing seats.

Until, in the final words of my Grandmother, "I'm tired of this!" One rolls over and...changes. Dies. Adapts. Walks away. Kicks out and starts to swim, because at least it's doing something other than, well, navel gazing or watching the train wreck in motion.

The SMOP took off for Egypt to renew his Visa, since he changed jobs. The night before, Leg 3 of this disastrous social/living situation announced that she's formally converted to Islam.

I'm going to skip over the Islam part, and address converting to any religion. I was raised pretty strictly Mormon, and I've seen my share of converts come and go. They used to say, "Faith without works is dead." I say, give me that same convert 1 year on, and then I start to take them seriously. When that same convert is being an example to their children about the proper way to live and embrace that particular faith, then I start to give them some credence.

Meanwhile, my gut is absolutely screaming, "Space. Give this person plenty of room, plenty of space."

So I didn't go out to eat. Instead, I bought some vegetables and ate at home. I went to the gym a couple of times and really broke a sweat. the I completed a stack of paperwork. Then I put on really tight jeans and went out to coffee with someone I'd never had a good conversation with before then. I bought another MP3 player, and blasted music in my car all weekend when I ran errands. When leg #3 requested company, I politely declined. When in company with leg #3, I stopped holding back, started to laugh and really enjoy myself with the other people around me. One ray of light at a time, I pulled it back to myself and spent it on me.

In short, I remembered the old lesson, that people who would ask you, need you to be less than yourself (directly or indirectly) while around them, aren't worth being around. Much less, part of their issues.

I did crunches- they made me stand up straighter. I felt better in my clothes, my clothes began to fit better. Sometimes, I would break into a run in the hallway just to feel it. I began to get some odd looks from leg #3. I began to get comments. "I didn't see you all day today."

Not impolite. Not unfriendly. Just, not there.