Cultivating Power

I don’t know what happened. I woke up, didn’t say my rosary, ate, looked at the internet for a long time. I have an obsession problem which I’m beginning to see has given shape to my life in some unfortunate ways. The internet, and social media especially, is like the pellet dispenser of information about my various obsessions.

When I say “obsession” you perhaps are hearing “a tv show I like a lot” or “a scientific phenomenon I think is neat.” IF ONLY. No, those are interests, and I tend not to have interests because my brain is crowded out by obsessions. What I’m about to confess you might scare you. I tend to obsess over people who have, at some point in history, done me wrong. People who have gone onto success in life and love despite that. I tend to obsess over my mistakes. I tend to obsess about my body. I tend to obsess over the manifestations of patriarchy and the nets it traps us in.

Before, I used to obsess about being trans. That’s an interesting link, the connection between obsessive thoughts and the creation of an internal, secret identity.

I also, helpfully, obsess over the connections between obsessive thoughts/social anxiety/ trauma/ girlhood/migraines/intestinal distress/socially coerced bodily mortification ie. dieting, waxing, surgery, makeup. The social and the internal are parts of the same system. People who have a problem with obsessive thinking are pretty amazing at sussing out the structure of systems.

I don’t know what happened, I ate breakfast, I stared at the internet, I found out a woman who was a jerk to me is getting married. Years back,I broke it off with beau, within 12 hours this woman I was brand new roommates with had hooked up with said beau, it was the worst, what can you do? Unfortunately my romantic life is an area of obsessive thought for me right now. Being straight is scary for me. I don’t like to be alone in a car with a man if I haven’t known him for at least 5 years. I definitely don’t like to be in the apartments of men who are newer than 5 years. Being only attracted to men has been a really fundamentally not ok development from taking testosterone- I can’t go through the normal heterosexual rituals people go through to end up together. My friend met her husband at a wingfest- they got wasted, hooked up, she got pregnant, now they are a lovely little family. If I got wasted at a wingfest I would have a panic attack and go home. There would be no lovely little families coming into creation.

So I see this lady is getting married, and I started to obsess about that time in my life when she did that. It kinda fucked up my year, what with finding new housing and my social circle being divided, also I was pretty heartbroken over that beau. Although to be fair my life was already pretty fucked up before that happened. Her doing that was only a point in a spiral downward of complete fucked-up-itude. Then I started to obsess about my current alone-ness. And how scary and clearly fucked up I appear to people if they find out anything about being me having been trans and then detransitioning.

There’s just big knots of fear to un-tangle. I’m scared of men. I’m scared of looking scary to men. I’m scared no one will ever want to be in a relationship with me. I’m scared only a nasty person, who likes overly scared people, would want to be in a relationship with me.

Long story short I started crying. That’s probably scary to you, but crying is actually not a scary thing to me anymore. I know if I’m crying about something that’s the climax of feeling bad and I’ve started down the road of feeling better about stuff. I envision tears as carriers for all those stress hormones in me, and my body is just like, “Time to dump these hormones, open the flood gates!”

I finally started my rosary. I cried while I prayed the rosary. I can’t recommend crying and praying a rosary enough, it is absolutely the best for moving through nasty feelings.

I prayed for a man to be in a loving, enjoyable relationship with that makes me grow into a more powerful rad woman, because duh, that would be the best. But then I also prayed to notice my own power more. That’s really the problem with my obsessive thoughts and my anxieties- they take up my whole head and I don’t notice how I’m affecting the world and building my circumstances. I notice everything out of my control, and don’t even think about what is in my control. Most things are out of my control, ie. this capitalist patriarchal nonsense way of life, and yeah of course my stressed out brain wants to figure all that out. But it’s more important that I figure out what I can do to affect the world and how to do it more strategically, more effectively, more often. I haven’t given up on myself as a creator. I am in the mothering time in my life. That lady who was a jerk to me did that in my maiden phase.

I think I may start writing down the times I notice myself being powerful. Not feeling powerful- I’ve felt powerful in some distinctly non-powerful positions. Like, actually making something happen. Changing my internal state counts. But hopefully I’m looking for noticing when I have made something outside of myself different.

That’s all I got. That’s what I got from crying through a rosary today. A power journal. Like a joke notebook but woo.

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