This is Mattie, at about 3 years of age. She lives with me. More accurately, I live with her. She is my "other I." Mattie has a great deal of influence over my life, my decisions, my behavior and my reactions to stress. Sometimes this is a good thing; usually, not so much....
By the time this photo was taken, Mattie had learned to view the world through a veil of fear. You can see that in the sad eyes, the tentative smile, in this photo. She was watchful and anxious, even then.
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Mattie was a battered and neglected child, subjected to physical, emotional and sexual abuse, to one degree or another, until she was nearly sixteen. That's when she learned what incest was, and put an end to it. Mattie can't remember who first molested her, but it started before she was five, her age at the first clear memory of it.
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For those of you familiar with Maslow's hierarchy of human needs, Mattie never made it to the self-actualization stage of development. She hovers around the safety level, but reacts to threats to those needs as if she were being deprived of her physiological needs. She never is, of course, but you can't make a terrified three-year-old understand adult logic. (Who am I kidding? Sometimes this 62-year-old doesn't understand, either.)
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That's why, when I awoke with chattering teeth and blue-tinged lips a couple or so weeks ago and discovered the house was a frosty 52F/11C, before I could put on a sweater and check the oil level in the tank, Mattie was already in full-blown panic mode. I think it had started when I noticed my lips were blue, only I didn't see the warning signs in time to avert the anxiety attack.
...
You see, Mattie remembers being homeless and having nothing to eat, or very, very little. She remembers being cold and hungry and scared for her safety. She remembers living in her mother's car and having to share small jars of baby food with her five siblings. (Her mother had left their father, again, but had enough money to buy a case of baby food. Mattie's youngest brother was about 18-months-old at the time, and could eat toddler stage food.) Each child was allowed one spoonful of food from the jar, three or four times a day, for what seemed like forever, but was likely only a couple of days. Mattie was eight at the time, but she has always reacted to stress as a three-year-old would - very self-centered, self-serving. She remembers living in abandoned houses, again with no heat and little food.
I'm going through a rough patch right now, financially and emotionally, but it is Mattie who suffers. I can tell her that what she fears was then, not now. That she has control over what happens, that she has access to help that she didn't have as a child, and that, because of all that, she will be okay. She isn't going to die. She will have something to eat. She can put on extra clothing if it gets too cold for her. I remind her that she at least has a house, but I try not to add, "...for now," because she would focus on the "for now" and think we are about to be homeless again. I also remind her that she is far better off than a great many other people worldwide, some of whom live in abject poverty in so-called Third World nations, and the millions of people here in the US, alone, being affected by the current depression. I know all that, as an adult, but Mattie just doesn't get it. When she's in a panic, logic and reason are as foreign to her as the French language is to me.
Sometimes taking care of Mattie wears me down and brings on depression. It was easier to deal with when Ex-B was here. I had someone to listen as I tried to sound out my fears, to talk my way out of the panic attacks. I don't know if he really listened, or cared, for that matter, but he did a good imitation of listening, and that's what I needed. I don't need sympathy or solutions. I just need to talk, to tell someone, anyone, that I'm scared. I probably won't be tomorrow, but I am tonight, and have been for several weeks. Everything will work out for the best. I know this is only temporary and will pass on sooner than later.
I just needed to talk. Thanks for listening. It helps, a lot.
Goodnight, Mattie.
