What am I?
A being noted as human. I physically exist. I feel, oh so much. But sometimes I am just a vacant hole.
I look like a woman; a short, dumpy, clumsy, grey one – but I am a woman. Of sorts. A woman who doesn’t understand women, who cannot entirely identify with them.
I am not a man. I am just ‘thing.’ I am not gender confused. I am not gender fluid. It is more like, gender – LESS. Because gender is so tied up in identity, and identity is still a hole. How much of a gap I am only just noticing.
I take selfies. To try and see what others see. I stand before the mirror and photograph the person I reflected back at me. For the me in the mirror looks nothing like the photos on my phone. They are different. I look at the two side by side, and they are not the same.
It is confusing but not distressing. Just fascinating.
I draw myself, but others don’t recognise those drawings are me. Yet they recognise everyone else that I draw. So it is me, not seeing me. Not just not seeing my inner self – but I don’t think I see my outer person correctly either.
That’s quite interesting.
This is a new question.
So many questions to ponder. For ponder I must if I must seek the answer to the question that is me or non-me. Awareness has brought questions. Before, I existed and bounced around and was competent in my disordered way. Now that I must focus on everything, to maintain balance and control – now I must ponder and question and define everything.
There is art head which is so creative, yet is also emotion central. There is my rational mind, but that is so inquisitive. It would become science mind if it could. I would be a still figure in the corner of a library, draped in cobwebs as I sought to find the answers to all the questions in the universe if I let that mind rule.
I need to find my wise-mind. That small part where the two cross over.
Everyone else does this naturally. I have to dig around, shout questions into the darkness and walk off and wait for it to appear with the answer. Wise-mind is good. It is the right mind. But accessing is difficult.
Perhaps I should become a monk. But the non-attachment thing would be a problem. I am not ready to leave my pets as yet.
Otherwise, becoming a monk makes a lot of sense. Or it would if one could become a female monk. A genderless monk. Wouldn’t it be great if once we reached a certain age, we could just morph into gender unidentifiable beings and merely contemplate? To remove the pressure to be someone or something and only exist?
A happy, arty, sciencey genderless monk being?
Well, my utterly random emotion mind likes the thought, my rational sciencey head say’s “what the heck?” But that’s the thing that is DBT. A combination of science and Buddhism and meditation. It works. It’s proven. But I think of contemplation, and I think of Buddhist perspectives, and it does all make sense …
… except when I think it would be nice to become a happy genderless monk being 😊 😊 😊
(Note: I am not going potty, I am neutral and relaxed and have a gentle smile on my face. Just harmless, quirky musings like most folks do).
Hey, I think I just self-validated there! Oooh! This is progress unfolding.
Maybe I will get to the bottom of this puzzle after all.