I had decided I wasn’t going to focus on the insanity. However, I’m learning some things, and I am focusing on healing.
I finally figured out why I respond with rage, rather than ignoring or simple irritation, when NM even walks through the kitchen during my kitchen time. It actually isn’t a big deal, except it hits a gigantic hot button. Every time she does it, she reminds me of all the times she violated my privacy. All the times I was required to leave bathroom doors unlocked. All the times she walked in. All the times I wasn’t allowed to say or do anything to stop her. The insane rage she expressed when I finally started locking bathroom doors when I was in college.
Yes, the little fudging on my kitchen time isn’t huge. It is, however, indicative of the fact NM still doesn’t respect me in any way. The violations aren’t as blatant only because I’ve cut off the opportunity.
I also came to realize that I’m carrying around this bundle of hurt and anger, and frankly, I’m tired of carrying it.
No, NM will not change. NM doesn’t want to change. NM doesn’t see a problem. NM didn’t see a problem with her behavior way back then either. NM denies anything happened. NM can’t tell the truth without convicting herself.
Oh. Sort of like when she told me I had to tell if my molester touched me again. She expected me to tell on myself. Except it isn’t the same. I hadn’t done anything wrong. I wasn’t the one who threatened anyone they would be in trouble if they told. I should never have been treated like the adult when I was a child.
NM wants to be friends. I cannot be friends with someone who believes it’s acceptable to ignore another person’s privacy over and over and over.
I’m still tired of carrying around this ball of irritation, but it helps to know what it is and why it exists. If I don’t wear my prickly armor, NM thinks it’s okay to further violate my privacy.
In Jesus Was an Airborne Ranger, John McDougall talks about the Warrior Christ. McDougall refers to the scene in the temple where Jesus uses a whip and turns over tables. McDougall called it controlled aggression and suggested that Jesus mastered the skill.
I’m uncomfortable admitting I’m capable of being aggressive, which is really kind of stupid when you think about it. I’ve published a number of books through a publisher and on my own. This requires a certain amount of controlled aggression, a willingness to fight for what I want, especially when I had trouble with a few of my editors who wanted to change my stories, and not for the better.
McDougall made me wonder if perhaps the Lord is endeavoring to teach me to better control my aggression. The problem has been that I didn’t see aggression as a positive. It was wicked, evil, wrong. So I endeavored to squash it. However, as I said before, it is that very aggression that saw me through any of a number of adventures. For years, I’ve used the leashed aggression for traveling. I’m terrified, but I dig deep for the fighter mentality to do what scares me to death.
I’m not entirely comfortable with this idea. Or maybe I’m struggling with seeing how this is going to work. It’s something I’ll be thinking about for a while.