Defining Myself (2020-)
This is a project inspired by Bob Flanagan’s Book Of Medicine. This is a series of terms I define, using history, personal experiences, and memories associated to each word. These are just excerpts from the total piece, as it is a work in progress that grows with me and with time.
Elaine:
This is the girl I once was before the summer of 2014. The transition from Elaine to Ellie took two more years to become more set in stone but, the concept of Ellie was born in 2014. Elaine was a girl who lived with so much pain that it eventually consumed her. She always felt alone, no matter how many people knew her name. But the knowing of someone’s name never means you actually know that person. Knowing of a person is very different than knowing a person. The significance is the “of”.
Elaine had two siblings and two parents. Her parents were messed up and worked hard at pretending they weren’t. Her father was abusive and probably relied too much on the fact that pain helps one to remember. Whether he chose to use words, manipulations, or more physical forces to make his family obey, it all hurt just the same. That kind of pain was something she could neither forgive nor forget. The words of her father stained the way she saw the world and later on how she saw herself. A girl who was difficult, selfish, and undesirable in every way; never meeting the expectations or the standards that her family had put in place.
Later on, Elaine’s mother and father divorced. Eventually her mother got sole custody of Elaine and her sister. Her mother was someone she was very attached to. Elaine idolized her mother and was reminded to do so with each compliment she received on the likeness between the two of them. Elaine was her mother’s daughter and that made them close. As close as they were, there was also a competition between them two. They wanted different things.
Elaine wanted to be her own person, while Melissa, her mom, wanted them to be the same. Melissa wanted to be young and loved by everyone, while Elaine wanted to be older and free of everyone including herself. Elaine didn’t fear death, in fact she wished for it often. That was what she believed was the only way to free oneself from it all: the pain, the words, the assumptions, the expectations, the similarities, and the differences. She lived a difficult life, not because of the hardships she struggled with, but because she only wanted everyone to not hurt the way she did. She knew the ugly feelings that were beaten into her by her family and friends. She knew that no one deserved to feel that way, no matter what kind of person they were. She cared too much about others but, that was something her parents made her do early on.
She had to take care of her younger sister, her mother, her father, and anyone else in her life. If they needed her, she was there to make them feel better, that was her purpose. It all became too overwhelming for her and eventually she tried to free herself from the broken world. The pills didn’t kill her, though. She didn’t realize that the pills she had taken in careless doses, to numb herself from the repercussions of her self-harm, were already useless due to her body’s adaptability to large doses of painkillers. She woke the next morning on a blissful and numbing high from the pills.
After that, Elaine was certain she was cursed to live. As time went on things at home began to escalate again, leading to the climactic moment when her mother’s current boyfriend attacked her. That was the night Elaine ceased to exist, and Ellie began. Elaine bore the scars from her parents, family, and everyone else so Ellie didn’t have to.
Elaine is the younger self who saved me from the trauma that still occasionally haunts me, the self that still looks for ways to sabotage the future, and the rigid expectations of others that I still fight against.
Forgotten:
A fear I have, that traces back to an incident when I was four years old. I was four years old at the time. It was a surprisingly cool afternoon. Summer school had ended for the day and I was sitting by the gate, watching other kids run off to hug their parents, hopping into cars or meeting up with friends to walk home with. I remember there was a highway next to the school that had a walkway over it. It was in a cage, it prevented people from jumping, but at that age I just remembered it reminded of Jurassic Park 3, when they were in the enclosure for pterodactyls.
It looked so fascinating and I would imagine climbing up inside the enclosure, moving through its intestine-like shape, peering down at these fast-moving cars. Watching down below like each car was a monster thirsty for our blood. I remember also being curious about the fact that children my age knew how to get home on their own. I envied that.
I was not allowed to leave the house. My dad did not let us leave unless it was for school or church. I always felt trapped and useless at home. I was embarrassed that I did not know where to go yet, at the same time I felt like if I tried to figure it out, I would leave the same moment my parents would arrive. Soon enough the sun was started to go down, and I kept on waiting and watching until everyone was gone.
I just sat there by the gate, expecting my mom to drive up, jumping out of the van, running over to me and holding me in a warm embrace. I pictured her crying and kissing my head as she held me close. Half panicked that I was not home and half relieved that she could find me safe and sound. I could feel my face burning and starting to cool in streaks. My eyes were starting to blur and as I rubbed my eyes, all I could feel was wet cloth from my sweater as it dampened with my salty tears.
Eventually a woman from the school office was locking up, getting ready to leave and she looked over at me. She seem surprised and worried. She walked over with sad eyes and asked me where my mom was. I began to sob a snotty, choking, and messy cry. She asked me questions like "Do you know where you live?," "What is your parents' names?," and "Do you know what their numbers are?" She walked me to the office, looked up my emergency card, contacted my family and soon enough my mom came. I saw the big green van, walked over and was strapped in and we left. Nothing was said, there were no hugs or kissing, no apologies or excuses.
