moi?

[fufaraw]

Because it seemed time, I've been poking at a meta essay, dissecting, analyzing, and attempting to identify origins of my responses and reactions to things like dubcon, noncon, gender determinism, defiance vs. surrender, pigheadedness, passive aggression, and apathy. I may share some of it here, at some point. Conclusions so far? I am one kinky fucker, although my kinks do not align with those of fandom at large. I fall outside the bright lines of normal, but in a relatively uninteresting and colorless way.

Sort of like the husband teasing me about my preferred palate for bland and white food. Because really, for the most part? Life, too loud, too bright, too sharp, too fast.

Oh, who'da guessed?

Comments

[sylsdarkplace]

Do share. I'd love to see your perspective and have a discussion if you like.

And while I don't share your liking for bland food, I do have issues with sensory overload of the the aural and visual varieties. I'm pretty excited that for "security reasons," a wall is going up around my desk at work. For me, it means a buffer against the stimulation and proximity of other people. Now if I could just get the phone to quit ringing.

One of the great things about books is that if they get too "much," you can put them down and walk away for awhile.

[fufaraw]

Or sink into them at will and suspend the sensory input around you. Or maybe that's just me.

I'm still nudging at it. I'm not self-censoring and there's a lot of 'poor little me' and irrelevant stuff coming out that will have to be sifted. But we start with the fact that I grew up being micromanaged by a borderline psychotic narcissist who would do anything to preserve her delusions about herself, and how I learned early to pander to her demands and flatter her self-image while separating my own *self* from her interpretation of reality--hers and mine. That was made both easier and trickier by realizing her emotional development never progressed beyond her own adolescence.

It took some maturity, and some physical and emotional distance for me to be able to really see her as she was, and not how I wanted or expected her to be. By the time I was knowledgeable enough to mourn the trust and comfort she withheld yet still claimed to provide (in truth, she was so damaged herself, she was incapable of it), I was already adept and facile enough at separating her delusion from my reality that it was fairly easy to regard her dispassionately, and realize I could function quite well without the comfort and support a parent is "supposed to" provide.

So when a character I identify with is faced with "submit or die", my instincts are to disengage my core personality while apparently submitting to a forced reality, until such time as I can escape, or affect change. I always identify with the unwillingly "subdued" character, while knowing if the situation was real, I'd die rather than truly submit.

Which leads to my lifelong relation to death. Another time.

[sylsdarkplace]

I want to respond, but two guys have spent the better part of the day hanging a door with hammers and drills and saws not more than eight feet from me. I'm about ready to jump out of my skin. Oh, and the dust is getting to my allergies as well.

I will say this though, your comment reminds me of a college roommate I had. We used to say her mother lived on "Betty World" because everything was about her.

I completely relate to "if the situation was real, I'd die rather than truly submit." Contrary to your experience, I was not micromanaged. I can't say I was managed much at all. In trying to do it all -- full-time working mom and housewife -- my mom had little time for my brother and I. She came from a very traditional 1950's home but we were poor. She and my dad both worked 40-60 hours week. I grew up watching the drudgery of my mother's life, and I'm sure that has a lot to do with my choice to not have children.

My parents were old-school authoritarian parents, which is very much out of fashion for better or worse. I truly believe they did the best they could, but anyone who tells me that quality time is more important than quantity is full of crap. Children that don't get enough attention will provoke negative attention.

I'm never really thought much about how my childhood influences my writing or how I read other than fact that my mother did instill a life-long love of books. No matter how little money she had, she'd always buy us books. Books are important. She taught me that. By extension, writers are important too, right?

[fufaraw]

Writers are extremely important. How else to get condensed and ordered perspectives other than our own? Pinning those down with people in daily life is time consuming and difficult, at best. Writers make that available in handy, sometimes provocative, and accessible ways.

I'm sorry about the construction noise and dust. I know how disturbing that can be. I hope now they're done, the dust can settle a bit, and you'll have your barrier and buffer against other peoples' energy.

I agree that children who don't get enough attention wind up actively seeking negative attention, thus getting into trouble that could have been avoided. In my case, a gimlet-eyed overseer of every facet of my life resulted in almost total shutdown of initiative and independence, and a rich and spectacular inner life safe from unwanted direction and interference, one that's often difficult to forsake for the real world.