Hazey Jane

So i cried in therapy...again. Because i suck at life, am too emotional, and all that jazz.

I was discussing my problems at work (which are almost too trival to discuss anymore.), my disasstifaction with Debbie Downer coming to me with all her Debbie Downer Shit:
I mea
DD: How was your weekend
Me: I'm a little tired. School work is piling up, i'm not getting much sleep
DD: We'll at least you aren't taking care of my sick dog, whose eye was always knawed off by a vicious dog.
Me:??????? Have a good morning "Debbie"

I'm frustrated with being the therapist everyone comes to talk to. I think everyone has this idea that i don't have problems. Just because i don't come out and say "hey i have anxiety" everytime i see someone. It doesn't mean that i'm swimming in a pool of issues though.

Sometimes i feel like i'm to blame for my social problems. Like i've already determined my role as therapist that i don't know how to be vunerable in front of people. I don't know how to be wanted or cared for.


I then told my therapist that i think Debbie Downer is a coward. She had the chance to stick up for me (when Kathleen was all up in my face) and didn't do anything. That even though i listen to her bullshit every day, she didn't even have the balls to back me up.

I have that problem a lot. I seem to invest myself in people, who don't invest themselves in me. I listen, i take in, i absorb, and then i am left alone if i have something to say. I have no one to defend me. Not that i need someone to, but i guess i'm sick of fighting battles myself. "A Defender is what i need" I joked "it would be nice".

Then i told him a story from when i was in the 6th grade. The Story aboout Jane.

Jane was a girl in my grade who had this stunning face and long black hair who also suffered from some form of mental retardation. She didn't attend any academic classes with us but she took things like gym and home ec with us.

This was at a time when i had a shitload of friends and i didn't have to worry about finding a group of people in gym to hang out with. It always sucked when it came time to find a group and no one wanted Jane to join. She use to stand there in the corner looking on at the rest of us who immediatly divided off into the comfort zone of a familiar face.

I admit, i was one of those kids too who didn't particular want Jane on our flag football team. We knew she would slow us down or either be the weakness on our team that the other plays would attack.

What no one knew outside of school, was that i had walked with Jane to school several times during the year. For some reason though i lived about 7 blocks from Issac E Yong, i had to walk to school because the bus didn't stop at my place. Ran, sleet or snow (Lots of snow) i walked past the nice houses, loading dock, pub and corner store just to get to school. Depending on the mood i would either wait for my brother or walk by myself to the middle school every day.

On the way, i would encounter Jane and her mother, who usually walked her from their apartment building. One day out of chance probably, i ended up talking to Jane's mother and took on the task (occasionally) of walking her to school.

It wasn't anything big. She didn't say much, she just smiled lopsidely and grinned as i talked my head off about stupid stuff. When she did speak it was very minimal but i didn't mind. She sort of grew attached to me, which didn't bother me too much. Unless it came to gym. At 12 you aren't really thinking about doing the right thing, but rather just about fitting in and having friends....even if that means turning away JANE.

At our school, you had to wait outside in the mornings until the bell rang. It was a huge school (castle like) , and the mornings where the best times for get togethers. We divided ourselves between the 6th, 7th, and 8th graders and me and my friends would look on at the hot 8th graders in the corner, who seemed like gods to us.

I always got there early because i hated being late, so it was no suprise that i often ran into Jane early in the morning. One day when i got to school, i ran into Jane on the gym field. She looked terrified when i approached her. When i asked her what was wrong, she pointed at the group of 8th grade boys that i admired and suggested that they were making fun of her.

I said i would walk her to the front door, but she kept shaking her head. There was something so powerless in her eyes at the moment. Like there was nothing she could say or do to make them go away. And i kept thinking to myself, "what the hell i'm I suppose to do. I'll look like Jane's BFF if i stand up for her. People will make fun of me and think that i'm "slow like Jane"

I almost left her. I admit it. There was this momemt where i was like "it's not really my problem"

But that only lasted about 5 seconds. I remember grabbing her hand, as we headed up the big hill. I remember being so scared and knowing that i would get shit from the hot 8th graders. I remember seeing her powerlessness and feeling my own.

Before i could even turn back and tell Jane that i was sorry that i couldn't do anything for her, we reached the boys who suddenly turned to us both.

"WHAT IF THIS WAS YOUR SISTER!!!" I yelled. I don't even know where the voice came from but I kept going "You think it's real funny to make fun of her don't you. Like it makes you somebody to make fun of a girl who can't do anything. Real nice, jackasses. Horray for making fun of JANE. She could be you're sister.Remember that"

And then i dragged Jane to the front door, said goodbye, and waited in the corner until my friends came. I didn't feel brave, or strong, or good about what i did, i just felt scared about what would happen after word got out that i stuck up for her.

But...for the rest of the year they didn't make fun of Jane anymore. They said hey to me in the hallway's. And Jane....well she stayed glued to me the whole year in gym and of course dragged down our flag football team. But one day she gave me a huge hug out of the blue. I felt like it was worth it. Like a part of defending Jane was about defending myself.

After i told me story to My Dr Phil, i started crying. For like no reason. I think after all these years i realize that i relate to Jane sometimes. I relate to her powerlessness and being stuck in her own shell. Sometimes i feel like anxiety has made me who i am. Other times i feel like it has disabled me and that i am slowly recovering from it's harm.

It's easier for me to defend other people than to defend myself. It's easier for me to invest in other people's well being than my own. But there are some days, when i feel like i am just like Jane, waiting for someone to take my hand and defend me.

To see how vunerbale my nature is and take care out it, out of some deep seeded love and connection to me.

I don't know if that's asking for too much.