Who am I?
For years, people have been asking me this question. My first fionce was very big on it, often critical of my answer being superficial or vague. His correct answer was, "I am me." I learnt to give that answer and did get vague understanding of the point he was trying to make. Yet another sad and dis-illusioned person who thought I was/could be much more than I am.
I am chaos. I am a catalyst. I am trying to become controlled chaos, a catalyst used under careful conditions, to avoid the explosions, the disappointment, the pain, the confusion that has always marked being someone who enters my sphere. This is improving greatly, but I still let people down. I don't think things through enough. I decided last night to read more about psychology, to teach me how to understand people better. To learn to interpret their reactions with accuracy. Cos I really suck at that.
I am easily distracted. I enjoy being distracted, because it is usually by beautiful things that make me smile. Therefore I don't work hard enough at being focused.
I am in love with colour. I am so lucky to have more colour in my life than most people, because as well as the visual spectrum, I see sounds as well as hear them, plus my alphabet has a different colour for each letter, even when typed in black. I am constantly immersed in colour and this is also very distracting.
I have one friend who has the most beautifully coloured and shaped voice, who also speaks very fast and does not enunciate very clearly. I can listen to him for hours, enjoying the images flowing through me, without undersanding a word he says. Which is a real problem, because he is quite an interesting person to talk to. I've been wanting to draw his voice for ages.
If none of this makes any sense google synesthasia. It's a brain condition. Simply said, my sensory pickup devices, such as ears, don't only send their information to the part of my brain that processes sound, they got entwined somehow with the visual part of the brain, so that I get to process the incoming data as sound and vision.
Pain also has a colour. Not so nice. When I am not in pain, it is transparent. When I was younger, I found this transparency disturbing on the odd occasion it occured. It felt empty. Empty of pain. Strange. I have learnt to love it during the rare and very exciting times that it occurs now. Pain is a hot pink, in case you are curious. The deeper, darker the pink, the more intense the pain.
I am confused. I never know what is the correct/expected/hoped for reaction when I am intereacting with people. I try so hard to either do the right social thing, or occasionally, when I feel I am in a very safe group of people, to sort out my own, honest reaction to things that happen or are said. This means sifting through all my reactions and thoughts and separating the "Reaction my Sister/ex Fionce/Husband/Dad/Mum/Peers think I should have, then comparing it to what is left over and thinking that might be my own natural, honest, real reaction, by which time the moment to react in has gone...
I am pretty happy. I like this. It's very nice to be happy. I am resolved to enjoy being happy for as long as possible.
I am loved. Is very good thing.
Did any of this make sense? Do YOU make sense to YOURself? I'm looking forward to reading all the other posts in this Fresh Horses Brigade Linky.