Into the Uncharted

Today was a good day.  My grandmother, having taken a long train ride down by herself, is here to visit me for the weekend.  She is such an amazing woman.  The day started with my roommate and I listening to my grandmother's stories of countless recent day trips she's gone on while we all ate breakfast. My roommate commented on how amazing it was that she remembered all these tiny details about these trips, some of which were years ago by now.  I agreed, and added that she's always been like that.  She's a story teller by nature.  I suppose to be a story teller you have to notice and remember details.  And to do all of that you have to be present.  That is key.

I am reminded of a passage in a book..I think it is in Julia Cameron's The Artist's Way, but I'm not sure. She is talking about how important it is to notice things.  She relates a story about her grandmother and how she was always suffering the consequences of living a life married to an irresponsible, wild husband.  Her mother would always ask, "how do you do it?" but she realized the better question would have been "why?"  Because the how was in her living in the present and noticing the details.  By observing things like the blooming of flowers and the arrival of new birds, and being present in her life, she was able to survive the stresses of  the imperfect relationship she was in.  The why was another matter left undiscussed...

I've always admired my grandmother...well, perhaps that's not exactly true because at 13 I was pretty wild myself, at least in spirit.  Although I was a "good kid"  I didn't like to be told what to do, or more importantly what *not* to do.  We had many, many fights.  But I have always respected her, although probably to outsiders it may not have seemed that way, and I definitely always loved her, although at times I also hated her.  But since I outgrew my adolescence and gained my independence, my respect for her was able to come to the foreground.  She is such an amazing woman.  I won't go into all the reasons why at this time.  I'll leave that for another day so I can truly do it justice.  Suffice to say, it is wonderful to have her here, but there are bittersweet notes to it all.

Anyway...this morning I had to call the library to renew a book, which is a 7day loaner, but I've had it for 5 months, apparently.  Every week I've called the library to renew it. I haven't had much spare time to read lately and it's a pretty long book.  And every week the librarian that answered the phone happily and politely renewed the book for another 7 days.  There were times when I was late in calling and I paid the fines for that.  But never once, in 5 months...which means approximately 20 phone calls has anyone even suggested to me that I need to bring the book back.  The other library I go to has told me after a single renewal that I had to bring the book in to physically renew it the second time.  But not this library..I just assumed that it was a smaller library with less rules.  Smaller library yes, but apparently it's not the rules that were lacking, but the librarians' knowledge or desire to enforce them.

So today was the lucky day that I got the librarian with a clue on the phone.  After much chat and explaining of the rules, I told her, "that's fine, I understand, I have no problem with that, I'll bring it back, I'd just like to know how long will I have to wait before I can take it out again because I'm not done with it?"  To which she replied, "I'd rather you never take it out again at all."  Wow.  That sounded pretty personal.  She explained to me that it was a new book, and supposed to remain on the main shelf, and that they evaluate books after 6 months of having them to see how circulated they were to determine whether or not to keep them.  This too, I completely understood, and told her I'd bring the book back.

After getting off the phone I relayed the story to my roommate and grandmother and my anger at her comment started to grow.  It was ridiculous, no doubt.  Such a totally out of line thing to say...but I was getting *really* angry about it.  I noticed this and tried to figure out why, but couldn't.  I just shrugged it off, figured I'd make my point when I dropped the book off and move on.  However, when my grandmother and I went inside and I returned the book, trying to confront the woman about her rude comment, I was shaking and on the verge of tears.  I was filled with so much...anger...I suppose...something...some emotion was filling me to the point of shaking and crying.  Thankfully the woman was not angry back, although I have a feeling I would have preferred a shouting match, but she offered an alternative that seemed helpful and we left peacefully. When I got back to the car I actually couldn't help but cry.  It didn't last long, but my tears came unbidden and I still can't quite fathom why.  What about this seemingly silly, meaningless incident was so upsetting for me?  What chord in me did is strike that resounded so strongly with such vulnerable pieces of myself that it threw me into this state???   I don't know.

Later on in the day I was shopping with my grandmother and giving her the update on the guy situation.  So my ex is going to Afghanistan in a week for up to 6 months .  In our efforts to reestablish a friendship, we succeeded and flew right past that line into romance again.  Not without strong reservations this time though.  Basically we're going to keep things as light as possible, write letters when he's away, and reevaluate when he returns.  I asked him if he would want to know if I went on dates, to which he replied no.  When I told my grandmother this, she agreed, saying, "he doesn't need to know all that."
I replied with, "well, yes, but I would want to know, I like complete honesty..."
"that's not honesty," she interjected, and before I could argue... "that's control."

Wow.  Well yes indeedy, Grandma...that is exactly what it is.  Trouble is, I've never realized that before.  All this time I just thought it was the honesty I wanted.  And yes, of course I wanted honesty. But in my obsessions with what I called "complete honesty" and wanting to know EVERYTHING I was actually seeking control.  Hunh....Interesting.

This is all uncharted territory for me.  I am uncovering new things about the way I think and feel and while I am confident that it is a good sign, proof that I am indeed growing and learning, it is also scary because...well heck!  What do I do now????  And oh my gosh, what else is lurking around the corners of my psyche???

One psychosis at a time, my friends, one psychosis at a time....