Anyone here ever felt violated? I bet you have to one degree or another. It's not exactly the best of feelings. Maybe you got felt up on the subway. It’s possible some guy decided to play with your hair for way too long. Maybe a 60 year old woman described you as a "hot tamale." Perhaps someone thought they should have used a scope. Maybe you've just got a creepy uncle that gives you strange looks and makes you want to stay away. I can think of many worse situations as well, but let’s go ahead and not list them here.
In any case, I bet you tried pretty hard to not be around those people that made you feel violated. In some cases (like being felt up on a train in Japan) it's pretty easy to not run into them again. In others (maybe they go to church or school with you or maybe it's your creepy uncle) it may be a bit more difficult. Being around those people just made you feel all kinds of uncomfortable. You could get anxious, have the cold sweats, not be able to focus, get dizzy, or all kind of other reactions when you were around those people. However difficult it may have been to stay away, I'm sure you did what you could to avoid those people, and in return avoid feeling those feelings.
Now imagine for a second that almost everyone around you gives you those feelings. And not just sometimes, all the time. That every new person you meet gives you shivers down your spine because somewhere in your brain you've been programmed not to trust anyone to be around you, ever. That even the act of shaking some one's hand can make you feel like you are falling backwards with no control. That being in the middle of a group of people dancing makes you want nothing more than to curl up into a ball and weep (also an option? trying to punch Greg right in the face for trying the help). That a friendly tap on the back might be enough to set you off and cause you to hit that person square in the jaw, friend or no, because you feel that you have to protect yourself from everybody, all the time.
Not exactly fun imagine-y times is it? Well welcome to my life.
Word has spread enough at this point that I'm sure most people have heard that I have some issues when it comes to being around people. People like to call my "issue" by many different names. Some refer to it as my "personal space bubble," or my "no-touching policy." A few have tried to clissify it with names like PTSD, or aphnephobia. I'm not really sure if any of them fit or not, but call it what you will, it is what it is.
When I was ten, a friend and I were playing outside with some other children in the neighborhood. One of those kids then fell off his bike. Wesley went inside crying, and then his dad came out. He started berating Chris while walking up to him. We didn’t know what was going on at the time, but apparently Wesley told his dad that Chris had pushed him off his bike. Wesley’s dad then came up to Chris and beat him. When I tried to intervene, I was thrown back and fell on the ground. I had never felt so helpless in my life, nor have I since. There was nothing I could do to protect my friend or myself from this man, and he was brutally attacking my friend. Chris had to be taken to the hospital, and he got better, but I never really did. From that moment on, I have had trouble feeling safe, anywhere.
Being in small spaces with people (like cars or clubs), being in crowds, and especially touching people made me feel helpless all over again. The feeling of being hit and falling backwards would wash over me. For a long time, this turned me into a very angry kid. I would lash out at anyone who got close to me, sometimes violently. Eventually I learned to slowly process and deal with things and started to form new relationships. But at the time I thought the only way for me to be happy was to pretend my problems away. To ignore the issue and pretend that I was ok with people touching me. For the longest time, that seemed like the only answer. After all, what kind of weirdy has issues touching people?
But that never made it easier, and only served to put off the process of dealing with the problems I was having. In High School as everyone started dating, I was put in quite the predicament. As much as I wanted to date like the other guys, I knew that it would involve getting close to people. The other problem was that sometimes a girl would seem interested in dating me. I know, it hardly seems like a problem to most people, but for me it was. Whenever someone would start to show interest, I would drive them away. Since emotional closeness seemed to inevitably lead to physical closeness, I would distance myself with biting remarks, rudeness, and jerk-itude. It was at that point that I decided to start putting myself first and stop putting myself in situations that made me uncomfortable. So I didn’t date. I’m not sure what the plan was at that point, but I stopped going to dances, and playing sports, and all kinds of other things. For the first time in a while, I felt somewhat happy about things. But at the same time, I knew I wouldn’t be happy until I had figured this whole thing out, and at least to some degree gotten over it. Even on my mission, I still had trouble shaking people’s hands. Even that little contact was enough to give me the hibbily-gibblies, if not worse.
The turning point I think came around January this year. Somehow and for some reason, I decided I could deal with things and asked someone out. We went out a few times and ended up looking at the Portland skyline together. At that moment, there was almost nothing more that I wanted in this world than to put my arm around her, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. No matter how hard I tried, I just wasn’t able to. Instead, for some reason, I told her that I had contact issues. I told someone for the first time ever. I hadn’t talked about this with my family or my best friend or anyone ever before. I had thought that no one would accept me. Amazingly enough to me, she didn’t laugh at or mock me, but instead we started to talk about it.
That was it. The point where everything started to actually get better. I realized what a weight I had been carrying around all by myself, and now some part of it was lifted. I realized that it was ok to tell people and that instead of hurting me, it would help me. Not once in life have I been real but I had never felt this close before.
Bit by bit, I started to let myself feel comfortable around people, some more than others. Family and friends that I’ve known for a long time are almost no problem anymore. Some people I think will always be a problem.
A couple months ago, a couple people (young ladies) I was with were talking about someone that they felt lacked self-confidence, and that someone just needed to pin him down and make out with him. Now I know (or at least sincerely hope) that it was said in jest, but it has stuck with me this past while, and has certainly been something I have had more than a little trouble shaking. See for me, it wouldn’t be a lack of self-confidence; it would be a whole other story.
I didn’t know their friend’s story, and maybe they did, but I do know mine, and if someone were to do that to me, to pin me down and make out with me, it would destroy me. I can think of few things that could do more damage to me as a person. It would totally and utterly erase any progress I’ve been striving for and making for most of my life. I can think of little else that would make me feel more violated at this point in my life (and those things would make pretty much anyone feel incredibly violated). If someone at this point, even someone I liked or cared about, were to pin me down and make out with me, as much as I know I’m not, it would bring back all those feelings of helplessness. The feeling of violation would be almost immeasurable.
So there you have it. A story with a few side bits of information about a part of what makes me, me.
In any case, I bet you tried pretty hard to not be around those people that made you feel violated. In some cases (like being felt up on a train in Japan) it's pretty easy to not run into them again. In others (maybe they go to church or school with you or maybe it's your creepy uncle) it may be a bit more difficult. Being around those people just made you feel all kinds of uncomfortable. You could get anxious, have the cold sweats, not be able to focus, get dizzy, or all kind of other reactions when you were around those people. However difficult it may have been to stay away, I'm sure you did what you could to avoid those people, and in return avoid feeling those feelings.
Now imagine for a second that almost everyone around you gives you those feelings. And not just sometimes, all the time. That every new person you meet gives you shivers down your spine because somewhere in your brain you've been programmed not to trust anyone to be around you, ever. That even the act of shaking some one's hand can make you feel like you are falling backwards with no control. That being in the middle of a group of people dancing makes you want nothing more than to curl up into a ball and weep (also an option? trying to punch Greg right in the face for trying the help). That a friendly tap on the back might be enough to set you off and cause you to hit that person square in the jaw, friend or no, because you feel that you have to protect yourself from everybody, all the time.
Not exactly fun imagine-y times is it? Well welcome to my life.
Word has spread enough at this point that I'm sure most people have heard that I have some issues when it comes to being around people. People like to call my "issue" by many different names. Some refer to it as my "personal space bubble," or my "no-touching policy." A few have tried to clissify it with names like PTSD, or aphnephobia. I'm not really sure if any of them fit or not, but call it what you will, it is what it is.
When I was ten, a friend and I were playing outside with some other children in the neighborhood. One of those kids then fell off his bike. Wesley went inside crying, and then his dad came out. He started berating Chris while walking up to him. We didn’t know what was going on at the time, but apparently Wesley told his dad that Chris had pushed him off his bike. Wesley’s dad then came up to Chris and beat him. When I tried to intervene, I was thrown back and fell on the ground. I had never felt so helpless in my life, nor have I since. There was nothing I could do to protect my friend or myself from this man, and he was brutally attacking my friend. Chris had to be taken to the hospital, and he got better, but I never really did. From that moment on, I have had trouble feeling safe, anywhere.
Being in small spaces with people (like cars or clubs), being in crowds, and especially touching people made me feel helpless all over again. The feeling of being hit and falling backwards would wash over me. For a long time, this turned me into a very angry kid. I would lash out at anyone who got close to me, sometimes violently. Eventually I learned to slowly process and deal with things and started to form new relationships. But at the time I thought the only way for me to be happy was to pretend my problems away. To ignore the issue and pretend that I was ok with people touching me. For the longest time, that seemed like the only answer. After all, what kind of weirdy has issues touching people?
But that never made it easier, and only served to put off the process of dealing with the problems I was having. In High School as everyone started dating, I was put in quite the predicament. As much as I wanted to date like the other guys, I knew that it would involve getting close to people. The other problem was that sometimes a girl would seem interested in dating me. I know, it hardly seems like a problem to most people, but for me it was. Whenever someone would start to show interest, I would drive them away. Since emotional closeness seemed to inevitably lead to physical closeness, I would distance myself with biting remarks, rudeness, and jerk-itude. It was at that point that I decided to start putting myself first and stop putting myself in situations that made me uncomfortable. So I didn’t date. I’m not sure what the plan was at that point, but I stopped going to dances, and playing sports, and all kinds of other things. For the first time in a while, I felt somewhat happy about things. But at the same time, I knew I wouldn’t be happy until I had figured this whole thing out, and at least to some degree gotten over it. Even on my mission, I still had trouble shaking people’s hands. Even that little contact was enough to give me the hibbily-gibblies, if not worse.
The turning point I think came around January this year. Somehow and for some reason, I decided I could deal with things and asked someone out. We went out a few times and ended up looking at the Portland skyline together. At that moment, there was almost nothing more that I wanted in this world than to put my arm around her, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. No matter how hard I tried, I just wasn’t able to. Instead, for some reason, I told her that I had contact issues. I told someone for the first time ever. I hadn’t talked about this with my family or my best friend or anyone ever before. I had thought that no one would accept me. Amazingly enough to me, she didn’t laugh at or mock me, but instead we started to talk about it.
That was it. The point where everything started to actually get better. I realized what a weight I had been carrying around all by myself, and now some part of it was lifted. I realized that it was ok to tell people and that instead of hurting me, it would help me. Not once in life have I been real but I had never felt this close before.
Bit by bit, I started to let myself feel comfortable around people, some more than others. Family and friends that I’ve known for a long time are almost no problem anymore. Some people I think will always be a problem.
A couple months ago, a couple people (young ladies) I was with were talking about someone that they felt lacked self-confidence, and that someone just needed to pin him down and make out with him. Now I know (or at least sincerely hope) that it was said in jest, but it has stuck with me this past while, and has certainly been something I have had more than a little trouble shaking. See for me, it wouldn’t be a lack of self-confidence; it would be a whole other story.
I didn’t know their friend’s story, and maybe they did, but I do know mine, and if someone were to do that to me, to pin me down and make out with me, it would destroy me. I can think of few things that could do more damage to me as a person. It would totally and utterly erase any progress I’ve been striving for and making for most of my life. I can think of little else that would make me feel more violated at this point in my life (and those things would make pretty much anyone feel incredibly violated). If someone at this point, even someone I liked or cared about, were to pin me down and make out with me, as much as I know I’m not, it would bring back all those feelings of helplessness. The feeling of violation would be almost immeasurable.
So there you have it. A story with a few side bits of information about a part of what makes me, me.
hey, I knew all that!! (except for the last part) See we don't just small talk at the gym! I'm guessing I'm the one that said that completely off-hand comment about pinning and making out. Don't worry, I will never do that to you, you're safe :)
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