I'm trying to be organized, but I'm not very good at it. At least not for myself. I'm able to organize anybody else's stuff, but not my own. Why is that, anyway? I guess you get a clearer perspective when you're not in the middle of it. I'm trying to get my tax crap together, decorate my apartment, and find a new job. err.

This morning, for some reason, thinking about this guy I dated when I was 16, Brian. Actually I don't even know if we were dating. We hung out a couple of times, and I guess I thought we were "seeing" each other. Next thing I know, he's hugging me and telling me he loves me, and I was totally freaked out. I didn't really feel attracted to him in that way at all. I ended up telling him I wanted to start seeing someone else more seriously. The funny thing was, when I saw Brian a few years later, his take on the story was this: we were going out, and I cheated on him. My take on the story: we were seeing each other, and then I decided to see someone else exclusively. Don't ask why I was thinking about this this morning. I am a long way from 16. I guess it's the issue of boundaries and clarity. So often in my life things are not discussed; the boundaries aren't clear-- this was a perfect example that would be the model for later relationships (i.e., Derek and the caveman mentality).

This is still a problem. I'm very embarrassed about how I let things slide, and how I lose my voice. This happened all the time with CF, which is why I was so miserable all the time. It's like I get afraid to say what I need, to cause some disagreement, make some waves.

This happened just last week! I am so embarrassed to even tell the story now! My friend gave me a gift certificate for a massage. It was a man that gave the massage. I had a weird feeling from the beginning. He was a great masseur, but somehow he began to engage me in personal conversation, which I really didn't want to have. I wanted to take the time to really absorb the work that was being done to my muscles. Suddenly this guy is telling me how he is looking for the right woman, and he wants to be married, but he can't find anyone with high values of marriage that he has. He is laying it on so thick, I can see it coming... like a pick-up line at a bar. But I'm just kind of observing it, and waiting for the inevitable question, which eventually comes: "How about you, are you single?" I tell him I have a boyfriend, and he starts asking questions like, "Is he the one?" What the fuck. The thing is now we have started a conversation and I don't know how I even got there... it all kind of happened rather smooth and subtle... and I don't know how to get out of it, either, without appearing incredibly rude. So my answers become shorter and shorter, because I'm trying not to talk at all. MassageBoy goes on to tell me more about himself, not only what a great masseur he is, but also how tough his life has been-- his sister passed away and now he has to take care of his nephew, etc. I am dumbfounded. This man is supposed to be providing a service, taking care of me-- not the other way around. Why would my friend pay to go have someone rub me and simultaneously tell me all their problems? I don't know what to say, but I am aware of the poor boundaries of MassageBoy, and kind of in shock. I start to feel not so safe, not so relaxed. This is further confounded when MassageBoy CLIMBS ON TOP OF ME and sticks his knee in my back. By this time I am totally confused, and don't know what I should say-- is this some kind of technique? It doesn't feel like it's doing anything amazingly helpful to my body, and I am trying to find a way to tell him that I don't want this, but I am stuck and he gets off before I find the words. He starts to stretch me, and I really am just wishing for it to be over, but I say, "I think I would feel more comfortable if I had another towel," because my coverings are suddenly seeming very meager indeed. He seems offended or something that I ask for this. At the end of the massage, he asks me how much I want to give him for a tip. It's not till after I leave that the insanity of all this thing sinks in.

Why? Re-traumatization, folks, re-traumatization. When I start to feel unsafe, once again, I go into shock. It's a familiar place for me. It's only afterward that I feel the anger or the sadness, and can see the violations with such clarity. At the time all I do is question myself, because I think I'm overreacting or I'm afraid to "make waves".

Yeah, and I know people out there say, "Why the fuck didn't you punch the guy, Duck? I would have jumped off the table and ran and got the manager."

Because that's not how it happens. Because if you're like me, and you've been violated before, and have a poor sense of boundaries, you don't think like that. You think it's you, there's something wrong with you. You don't trust your instinct, your gut telling you something's wrong.

Once, in high school, my class went on a field trip to NYC. We were on the subway, a bunch of us kids, the teachers, and other passengers-- when suddenly I noticed my friend Karen's face. I don't know how to describe it, but just looking at her I knew something was seriously wrong. She was frozen, but her eyes were wide and glassy looking-- she was terrified. That's what it was I saw in her face. Terror. "Karen? What's wrong?" I said, but she didn't answer. I looked at her, and then behind her-- there was a sleazy, greasy looking guy standing very close. I just knew something was very wrong, so I yanked her arm and pulled her to the other side of the car. Later, Karen told me that the man had been pressing his hard-on into her and fondling her. She was 15 years old. The boys in our group criticized her for not speaking up, moving or reacting violently to the man. One of our friends said, "Oh Karen, it wasn't such a big deal, nothing HAPPENED, so why don't you just stop talking about it." Nobody understood that Karen was in shock, that you don't react the way you do in your superhero fantasies when these things really happen to you. And then they minimized it and told her it was no big deal. I knew different.

The worst thing is the shoulds. "I should have..." done everything differently. I know. But like I said, I go a little blank, and it's not till later that I see the inappropriateness with such clarity.

I'm thinking of writing a letter, but just thinking about forming the words in a letter (even though I've just written them here) is a little scary-- don't ask me why. Because I have a problem sticking up for myself. But it would probably be really good for me.

What I'm noticing is that I have a bit of a lag-time. An event happens, much like this, where something feels sleazy and/or not respectful, and it takes some time for my emotions and realizations to catch up. The good news is, the lag-time is getting shorter and shorter. Because in truth, during the massage, I knew all this was wrong. I knew it. There was the small part of me that was still questioning and afraid to speak, but for the most part I really knew it.

I can only hope that the lag-time catches up to real time.

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