Every since SA happened to me, I have become obsessed with control.
Having always been a free spirit, and artist, and perhaps a little unreliable, this somehow came as a shock.
Suddenly, I had to calculate every move I make, every cent I spend, everything I do. I had this deadly need to organize every minute of my time- and the feeling that if I didn’t, something bad would happen, and my life would fall apart again. Needless to say, the more I tried to apply control over things I had no control over, the bigger mess my life became. And the less control I had.
Until at certain point I let go- fully and utterly let go of trying to have any impact on anything. It was too hard.
Now, in the aftermath of having spend the last year trying to rebuild my life, I have been trying to regain that control.
The thing with control is, it’s the same as knowledge. The more you have, the more you want, but you have to realize that you can only have a certain amount of it at a time.
I’m living in some strange aftermath of what happened to me, half-afraid that the same thing can happen again, and half racking my brain trying to regain my senses, plan better, and make sure that it never, ever happens again.
It seems too dark. The idea that something like that is a daily occurrence and I am not the only one, sure, that helps in not feeling alone. But at the same time, it kills me. I keep going over those days in my head from time to time, again and again. What was I wearing, what I said, where I went, who I let in my life. I try again and again to figure out where thing could have gotten wrong, but nothing comes to me. On a large scale, I have accepted that it wasn’t my fault.
But on a smaller scale, it’s not that easy. Accepting this means accepting something bigger. It means realizing that it can happen again. I can be more prepared. I can be better. I can be more independent, more confident, I can learn self-defense. And yet, it doesn’t matter how much I try to micromanage what happens in my life, I can’t prevent things like this fully. It’s a scary idea.
From where I stand from, my feelings are fully justified.
It’s not even about control (0r so I tell myself). It’s about choices. I made a mistake once. I chose to go to a big city on my own, without place to live or a job, a place as far from home as it gets. I borrowed all I could to get there and I did it from friends. Being myself, I couldn’t just make a simple, tiny mistake- I had to make a monumental one. In a summer, I had lost more money than I had, every sense of independence and confidence I had, any sense of future, any sense of ethics I had. I didn’t have the energy, so a while after I gave up my creativity as well. And then my hobbies. Until my life was fully stripped.
The only ethics I managed to keep were the ones preventing me from doing something illegal. But in the situation I was in that also meant I didn’t make the money I needed. I had chosen to keep my beliefs and by extension I had betrayed my friends.
That is what I needed to do to survive.
I let go of all beliefs and hobbies and needs that I could, like it was dead weight and I wouldn’t survive if I had to think of more than one thing at a time.
I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror, but hey, I was alive, and that’s what matters, right? For the next 2 years, that is my consolation, although at certain point I start to wonder does it really matter, in the mess that I have create. I’m just in pain. I’m angry, I’m hurt, I’m afraid, I’m panic and unhappy all the time, and I can’t stop myself.
I wake every morning of that year in the university, trying to tell myself, it’s over. I have great friends, I have good family, and I can’t really complain about lack of attention from guys, and I am doing decently at my classes, even better than before. I am in a mess, sure, but I have survived the worst, and I know there had got to be a way to get through this part as well. If I just…if I do every homework, go to every class, give attention to my friends, and my family, if I pick extra work to pay my expenses, if I build online business to pay my debts, I tell myself, it will all be fine, it will all fall into place. But it’s not that easy. I’m somehow thinking I can pull off more classes than normal full load (to make up for the semester I missed), part-time job, online store work and social life.
It doesn’t take long for anyone to see that this plan if falling apart at the seams, as am I. Only no one actually knows the whole mess, because I’m too ashamed. Everyone around me that I’m close with knows bits and pieces depending on what I can handle telling me. And by this, I also close myself to anyone helping me out. I’m digging myself deeper all on my own.
But I can’t see straight, I can’t give that idea up, because there is no plan B. This WAS plan B. I’ve got nothing after this.
I’ve played out all my cards.
So that is what I have to do, and I do it. I micromanage. And pray. And try and try and even as I know it’s not working I can’t give it up, because I know that I’ve got no other plan. I’ve also got no more energy to get up in the morning, let alone make another plan. It’s got to work, because I have no clue what I will do if it doesn’t.