Battered & Broken: Never Again

.: CAUTION :.

Before reading this entry please take note:

The attached photographs (below) 

depict injuries sustained from

abuse/battery

If you struggle with such images

.: I URGE YOU TO SKIP THIS ENTIRE ENTRY :.

Hear No Evil: Trials of the Hearing Impaired

Although "Operation Krysta Relocation" hasn't quite landed at a permanent destination as of yet I still have hope as I continue learning from each interaction that life brings to me.

 I can also promise you that the adventures I recently found myself engaged in were, as always, more than mildly entertaining... but more importantly, very illuminating.

After meandering my way back to the city, I met up with my long time friend Zack at a local bar. His brother Gabe had energetically accepted the open invite to come with, blatantly ignoring the fact he was already wasted. We arrived just in time for last call with closing time a mere twenty minutes away. When we left, we learned that Gabe had bumped into a guy he knew and had invited him back to the apartment for more drinks rather than do the wise thing and just call it a night. Unknown to both Zack and myself, Gabe's friend happened to be from Tibet, and only understood small bits of broken English. Normally, that sort of thing would be no big deal. This time, that wasn't the case. Shortly thereafter, we discovered that he is also mute, deaf in both ears, and I cannot confirm nor deny if he had vision in his right eye. -(Referred to as Jeff from here on out).

Jeff hadn't been born with such a cruel combination of ailments. As a small child he was in an accident that tore those gifts away from him simultaneously leaving him without hope of healing or medical repair.  So, as if the communication barriers at hand weren't already quite the challenge to overcome, we also became aware of the fact that Jeff was not sober, by any stretch of the imagination. So there we it was, the final obstacle. Alcohol. The one thing guaranteed to make it impossible for people to communicate even if they are speaking the same language.

Upon arriving back to the apartment, with Jeff now part of the troupe, Gabe suddenly thinks he knows ASL (a.k.a. flailing arms wildly and pointing at invisible objects). I am not an expert with ASL but since I was raised around it, I can understand any spelled words, specific phrases, and most common terms as they are signed. I frantically racked my brain for any and all ASL signs that I could,  meanwhile this poor gentleman became more and more frustrated with the massive communication barriers  between us. Unfortunately, the only ASL signs that came to mind were the following:

Please/Thank you
Mother/Father
Girl/Boy
Yes/No
More
French Fries
Cookie

Albeit, those are very crucial terms within the realm of communication, they were of no help whatsoever in regard to the situation at hand. Tensions continued to rise between all parties as I continued to decipher the drunken sign language Jeff was trying to convey. As the evening came to an end, Jeff left in a huff, looking utterly defeated, after spending 2 very intense hours attempting to make a connection with the three of us, without any luck. Not a single one of us could even efficiently interpret what he was signing to us. While he was walking out the door, he pulled out his phone as if he was going to take down my number. Gabe immediately got angry and started to physically push Jeff out of the apartment...quite forcefully under the pretense that Jeff was being belligerently drunk and refusing to leave and if we weren't careful, he would get aggressive. I gave Jeff a hug good-bye and my heart went out to him as the confused look in his eyes stared into mine. I saw him walk away with a stature of defeat, alone in a world of silence, with no choice but to continue navigating the difficult path that had been provided to him. 

All of this because of a language barrier. 

Humbled by last nights encounter, I took the time this morning to research various ASL idioms and phrases. It was extremely disconcerting to discover that most of what he was trying to sign to us were basic conversation starters. Questions such as "What is your name?" and "How old are you?" The thing that hit home with me the most though, was when I figured out the sign he had kept signing repeatedly. Any time that he let even the slightest bit of frustration escape, he placed his right hand over his chest heart and moved it in a circular motion --- "I am sorry."

I am utterly amazed by the patience, persistence, and dedication exhibited by this individual. He has been through so many different trials in a single lifetime, and continues to press forward with a smile on his face, just happy to be alive. Willing to take responsibility for every bit of frustration that may be involved with communicating with him. In comparison, my problems no longer seem as severe as they did yesterday. 

Unexpected Clarity

Lately, I have found myself feeling much like Gigi in the fabulous movie "He's Just Not That Into You" as I clumsily navigate my way through the societal sludge that we refer to as The Dating Pool in hopes of finding that special someone. Each time I meet someone, I feel out the person through a series of basic questions, which then determines if date number one evolves into date number two. On the rare occasion that this happens, I inwardly do a happy dance as we part ways. I head home praying that I have met the proverbial 'Knight in Shining Armor' that has arrived to save the 'Damsel in Distress.'

At first, things go great. Dinner, movies, kisses and of course, sex. Lots of it. As if the entire world has disappeared and all that is left is the passion of the moment. And then comes the knife to the heart, he says "I don't want anything serious right now" or "You know this is just sex, right?" and instantly the floating balloon of hoping deflates as I realize that this is unfortunately NOT my long awaited Knight, but just another Asshole in Aluminum Foil.

So how do I choose to respond to this revelation that has just wreaked havoc on the whimsical relationship I have just imagined and oversold to myself mentally? I do the opposite of what I should do. Instead of saying "Whatever, you're an asshole, get the fuck out of my life" somehow I always manage to convince myself that he just doesn't know what he wants yet. WHY DO WE DO THIS TO OURSELVES? Even if he didn't know what he wanted yet, why the hell would I want to be with someone who hasn't figured out such a primal aspect of being human? Instead of continuing the search for the guy we're meant to be with, we settle for some asshole because he might sometimes make us feel good about ourselves, but only on special occasions.

“It's very tempting when you really want to be with someone to settle for much, much less -- even a vague pathetic facsimile of less -- than you would have ever imagined. Remember always what you set out to get and please don't settle for less. These guys exist because there are a lot of women out there who allow them to.” ― Greg Behrendt

Moving along, so I eventually left that particular jerk and kept meandering through the swamp with even less hope than before, just moving aimlessly, not caring if I managed to reel anything in. Then once again, BAM! I get that spark between myself and another person -- my imagination goes wild. Don't get me wrong, I am not the type to start planning a wedding on the first date, or eagerly wait by the phone for a guy to call, in all actuality, I don't feel that humans are meant to even be monogamous (I'll save that rant for another time) but to have a partner to explore sexuality and human interaction WITH. I have grown past such pointless obsessions that only cause stress and heartache. What I haven't gotten past, is thinking that I am the exception to the rule! Each time, I end up convincing myself that I can change him, eventually he will want me. By telling myself this, I have not only justified his actions but also firmly placed a stamp of approval on his inability to validate the relationship.

“We're taught that in life, we should try to look on the bright side. Not in this case. In this case, assume rejection first. Assume you're the rule, not the exception. It's liberating. But we also know it's not an easy concept. -He's not just into you”
― Greg Behrendt
At this juncture, I have entered into a roundabout of typical dating disasters, and keep exiting into the same scenario -- friends with benefits. Sure, at first it's fun, but then feelings get involved. No matter what you do, that scenario always ends with someone getting hurt, and in my case, it's usually me.

So what does one do when realizing that once again, the cycle has begun? Well, I guess the best thing to do is to realize that he just might not be into you, and move the fuck on! (Easier said than done right?) Here comes Justification #2! Well, the sex is really great, I'll just keep this going until I find the right guy for me. That is where I am sitting right now. I cannot ignore reality forever but for now, I just want to live the fairy tale for a little bit longer.

“We (men) would rather lose an arm out a city bus window than tell you simply, “You’re not the one.” We are quite sure you will kill us or yourself or both—or even worse, cry and yell at us.” ― Greg Behrendt, He's Just Not That Into You: The No-Excuses Truth to Understanding Guys

Now, here comes the extremely fucked up part about ALL of this. As I sit and think about all of this stuff, I consider a new possibility -- I don't want a relationship either! Each time I finally manage to get into a relationship, looking back, I have unintentionally found a way to pick apart each one until it was beyond repair.. Instead of hyper-focusing on why HE won't validate the relationship, or label it, or tell me that I'm "his girl" why not just live in the moment and enjoy it for what it is? I am never going to get back the time that I have spent worrying, stressing, nagging or any of the other countless ways that we as women have given ourselves a bad name. However, I can make the most out of each minute that is approaching. That's what life's about isn't it? Who was it that decided that I need a man to validate my feelings and make me feel good? It's called SELF-ESTEEM! Really, having a friend with the proper "pleasure tools" that also has the same interests and doesn't care how much of a geek I am, that seems like a pretty good deal to me. 

Sorry Hollywood, you didn't win this time. This adorakable girl puzzled this one out until she found her way back to her roots again.