This weekend is the Impact Bay Area basics class again. I have taken it before. (Somewhat ironically, when I was on the elimination diet. Now I’m on this fucking cleanse thing. I seem to like strenuous exercise when physically depleted. I don’t really claim to be smart.)
This time I don’t know anyone in the class except the suited instructor who I met last time. I don’t have any friends and the rest of the staff is different. This class is fewer people so everything is going faster and feels less rushed. We did extra fights because we had so much extra time and we still left 45 minutes early.
I’m not going as slow as I wish I were going. It would be better for my muscle memory if I could truly slow down. Thing is, I get into a fight situation and I am just kind of a blur. Move.Move.Move.Move. My accuracy is improving a lot (the suited instructor was very complimentary today) and I’m not hitting quite as hard. I know that I’m not hitting as hard because I don’t ache. My wrist is the teeeeeniest bit sore. My elbow doesn’t hurt at all. My back is a little sore from standing for hours today when I don’t usually stand like that.
That’s pretty damn cool.
Honestly I think the Krav classes are helping with that. I’m sloooowly doing the exercises with Noah in class and that’s relatively easy because it isn’t a fight setting. I’m not adrenalized. At Impact the dude is creepy, the situation is tense (on purpose and deliberately in a safe manner) (Ok the dude isn’t *actually* creepy–but with the mask on he is intimidating as fuck.)
I noticed something today. Multiple times the suited instructor backed off from a fight because I verbalized so forcefully. That was a much more adrenalized situation for me than the fights. In the fights I calm down. I center. I look for what I want to hurt and I just go. When it is still words and I don’t know if I’m escalating too much or not enough and I don’t know if I’m going to get in trouble for what I’m saying…
That scares the living fuck out of me. Moderate verbal exchanges are much more distressing for me than a fist fight.
I’m really fucked up.
I like knowing where I stand.
I don’t like ambiguity.
Oh wait, speaking of Krav. I have a confession. I document my fuck ups with the kids so I need to do this too. At class the teacher was correcting one of Noah’s stances and Noah asked why. I leaned over, tapped the back of his head twice and said, “Because you are open to this.”
Well, Noah doesn’t get hit by a grown up without hitting back. So he thwapped my head right back.
I hurt for a while. We’ve talked about it. I think I was very wrong to do what I did. It was rude. It was demeaning. It hurt him. I really should not have done that. But I’m pissed about how hard he hit back.
I’m not saying he doesn’t have the right to defend himself. He does. He completely does. He’s a lot bigger than me. I think he could use less fucking force and still fucking effectively communicate.
This isn’t something we have done in years. It wasn’t cool of me. That was wrong. I need to not do it again.
But I’m kinda pissed. (Hey everyone on the internet–no taking sides. I’m documenting for the sake of documenting. We are pretty good to one another the vast majority of the time and every few years we have a boundary issue and we talk about it. Then years go by before one or the other of us fucks up again. I kinda think that’s life.)
What the fuck is abuse. I was an asshole, yes.
See. This is pretty much why I don’t think I’ll ever get to the point of thinking of myself as a good person. I’m not sure I’ll ever stop fucking up.
I feel pretty ashamed of myself for being this ridiculous. Grow the fuck up already.
I really haven’t finished growing up yet. I know.
Speaking of, I think that’s life. (I don’t really know this writer. He’s the friend of a friend. But this piece on reenacting trauma and safety hit home in more ways than I’m happy about.)
Yeah. I do this. Over and over and over.
Fuck. I’m not even original. Lame.
On the emotional front: I was busy and dissociated today so I wasn’t suicidal! I uhhh guess that’s good? Awesome. I was very distracted from myself today. So I was probably more positive.
On the poop front: what is this shit…literally. hahahahaha I crack me up.
Ok for real, on the poop front: things are changing. It’s been a week of this “cleanse” bullshit. How is it changing. It is… only a little bit more firm. Still tooth pastey, but so very brown.
I don’t know about you, but my shit has been neon yellow for the vast majority of my life. Sometimes it is green. Very very rarely brown and even when it is brown…not like this.
It’s not black. It’s not tarry or anything. It’s just BROWN.
It’s… I don’t know. It’s intense.
Ok, Noah and I are negotiating me hurting people. Because apparently I need to do some hitting.
> Well, Noah doesn’t get hit by a grown up without hitting back.
Not infrequently, I got hit by you without hitting back. The only other time (not counting martial arts class) I got hit by a grownup (once at OnLive), I didn’t hit back, though it massively annoyed me.
With you, if you recall, my stance was “I won’t always hit back, but when I do I’ll hit back hard.” Because I believe variable reinforcement is the best way to get people to stop.
I believe I do not notice every gesture that feels like a hit to you. So I accept that you are probably correct.