Up early this morning to take Shelly to the train station. She spent the night in my apartment because the ceiling in her bedroom is being patched. I'm glad she was here. Some of my old fears are back and I need the company.
There were entire months in 2012 when I worried someone might try to harm me, when I kept a go-bag tucked under my desk with 1,500 Euro, a toothbrush, and a passport, when I stashed my electronics in the closets of friends and in the lock boxes on the base so my evidence wouldn't suddenly disappear from my home. I don't know that the boys from MIVD would have actually physically harmed me, but I don't know that they wouldn't have. I always waited for the day when I might be snatched from the street, and I knew that I would kick and punch and scratch and bite and get some piece of someone under my nails and in my mouth. Now I have another rogue element: a person in my old company who has the long memory and bad intention to fuck with my accesses years later. What motivated this sudden maliciousness? Why wait all this time, and then malign my reputation?
It could be a matter of routine: someone getting promoted needed to make sure all the loose ends were tied up, so they shot a hole in my reputation to limit my ability to come after them with a lawsuit. Or, it could be a single individual with a grudge, irritated that I didn't agree to their characterization of me, irritated to see the image I project on LinkedIN: successful and well-respected. If it is the latter, then I have more to worry about than this single stealth attack. Someone has some personal grudge and they're going to harm me if they can.
Without any justification for the statement, I'll say it feels "female" to me. With the exception of MIVD (or other cowards), men will generally fight you to your face. You'll each get in a few punches, shake hands and walk away. I tend to be more "male" that way - a direct confrontation. In contrast, this feels sneaky to me. Because I can't guess the motivations, I can't plan for their TTPs. I've had to take a few precautions to make it more difficult to fuck with me. I hate that I have to do this.
There were entire months in 2012 when I worried someone might try to harm me, when I kept a go-bag tucked under my desk with 1,500 Euro, a toothbrush, and a passport, when I stashed my electronics in the closets of friends and in the lock boxes on the base so my evidence wouldn't suddenly disappear from my home. I don't know that the boys from MIVD would have actually physically harmed me, but I don't know that they wouldn't have. I always waited for the day when I might be snatched from the street, and I knew that I would kick and punch and scratch and bite and get some piece of someone under my nails and in my mouth. Now I have another rogue element: a person in my old company who has the long memory and bad intention to fuck with my accesses years later. What motivated this sudden maliciousness? Why wait all this time, and then malign my reputation?
It could be a matter of routine: someone getting promoted needed to make sure all the loose ends were tied up, so they shot a hole in my reputation to limit my ability to come after them with a lawsuit. Or, it could be a single individual with a grudge, irritated that I didn't agree to their characterization of me, irritated to see the image I project on LinkedIN: successful and well-respected. If it is the latter, then I have more to worry about than this single stealth attack. Someone has some personal grudge and they're going to harm me if they can.
Without any justification for the statement, I'll say it feels "female" to me. With the exception of MIVD (or other cowards), men will generally fight you to your face. You'll each get in a few punches, shake hands and walk away. I tend to be more "male" that way - a direct confrontation. In contrast, this feels sneaky to me. Because I can't guess the motivations, I can't plan for their TTPs. I've had to take a few precautions to make it more difficult to fuck with me. I hate that I have to do this.
I ran a few errands today - divested myself of some books at the book bank, mailed some DVDs and clothes to my sisters, I picked up boxes and I'll start packing up my things -taking them to storage. I can't afford to stay here anymore. I've spent all my money and can't stay and perpetually play catch-up. In the best case scenario, I get back to zero. That's no way to live. There are too many things I want to do, too many projects to be part of and fix, I'm not going to waste my time on the things that don't matter. I've tried to recover things that were lost, and I couldn't do that. I'm finished here. When I wrote to E last month, the clock began to tick down for me. That was the most important in a series of realizations. And now I know I'm done. I need to leave. I'm not supposed to be here anymore.
Stuff doesn't matter so much to me. I'm going to get rid of as much as I can. Whatever I do next, I can live a spartan life. Hell, I wanted to live in a tent in the desert with a bunch of dudes fighting bad guys - so I'm probably fine with an intermediate solution: something that is tidy and small and that lets me do something interesting in the work hours.
My friend Maggie is expecting her first child in a week. I'll be able to meet the new little guy, maybe spend time at her house, helping her get settled in. I want my friends and family to be okay and comfortable and to have good relationships with their children. I wish that being around their children wasn't so difficult for me. I wish that part of my soul didn't have such a ragged wound in it. Maybe some day it will heal.
No comments:
Post a Comment