About Men; 2: On Fire

So, It is Mother’s Day 2021 and for many reasons I stayed in bed.

My mother passed away last year.

There is family strife and my son and girlfriend were here but I didn’t feel well.

We all parted amicably at about 4 p.m. and all was well.

Now, I have this post to write from where I went in my head, worrying, as I lay here; but it’s all good.

Cambridge, Mass., Autumn 1984. I had been dating a man who hung out in Harvard Square and wanted to get rid of him and turned to my new roommate in Somerville, the town next door, for protection. In the meantime I was seeing a beautiful, somewhat older man who was studying to be a Swedenborgian minister.

I didn’t really understand that we were dating. I was desperate for friendship and companionship. I met him in a class on “Chivalric Romance of the Middle Ages.” He was taking some courses at the Harvard Divinity School, as I understood it, but was also taking this course. The relationship ended when I moved in with roommate J. and started having sex with him. I didn’t realize at that time or really until TODAY how totally abnormal and unacceptable that was. I told David–the Swedenborgian Minister student–and of course he immediately broke up with me.

I thought back to that man over the years and he was the ONE and ONLY person in a relationship I had who didn’t hurt me. He was a puzzle piece for my marriage in a way that I didn’t understand. He mentioned getting into bar fights and I wasn’t into that. I thought he was kind of weird. He talked about Love in way that for him seemed to me to be professional and not part of my own intellectuality at the time. Maybe he was trying to tell me how he felt. Looking back I wish I had had the sense to leave that awful Somerville relationship and go with David instead.

So, instead, I was mapped to David at Wernersville who put me through to Alex in one way or another who also got into bar fights in his youth as a Canadian in Germany.

There were just too many men.

On the Extended Acute Care Unit in Allentown in 2017, I finally met my match: a young Black man who I thought was a friend, I got confused and thought he was coming onto me–a silly thought as he was in his late 20s or early 30s and I was about 56 and weighed 180 pounds!!! i didn’t really think it I was just confused by something he said and trying to clarify it. But, I just needed to ask and for the second time in my life this got me into horrifying trouble!!!

Ultimately, I told the doctor–a Hispanic man–that I was going to set myself on fire!!! Also a silly thought, as I was on a locked psych unit. And, as it was not like me.

Earlier today–as I lay in bed sick on Mother’s Day–for reasons that are apparent!– I connected that thought with friend David in Cambridge–that was the one person in my past who would have connected with my saying something like that. It was JUST THAT WEIRD AND HURTFUL what I did to him at that time.

So, Mother’s Day is Sunday and a day a for healing work.

On that extended acute care unit I spent about 8 moths and between that and the psych unit in Bethlehem and some further stay at the respite home in Quakertown, I have sexually healed. THERE WERE PHYSICAL ISSUES THERE AS i HAVE SO OFTEN STATED AND THEY ARE HEALING.

For months, on the EAC UNIT I prayed the rosary every day and lay there in bed imaging hanging in the air over the crevasse in the mountains over Temecula, California, in a pure white light.

And I started to heal of the abortions.

No cigarettes–about 3 or 4 a week when I went on a pass with my mother.

And, more recently, I have gone to other terrifying places in my mind that are slowly healing as I move towards moving out of this healing place to being in society in a real way for the first time since my early 20s. Reconstituting the marriage in whatever way is possible. Being here for my son and his girlfriend.

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