Taking the Plunge

Going Down Under

1996

Down under the impenetrable barrier of my soul, a whole life exists, just like the beautiful, exotic transparent life that lies below the surface of the ocean.

In that part of me, just as in the ocean, is a complex ecosystem with stunningly beautiful forms of life; graceful, sensual aquatic plants; along with vicious and devouring species.

It is the brutal and devouring part of me that keeps me from delving very far into this subterranean realm. The fear of it is enough to kill me instantly. Unfortunately, I have no choice but to venture into that dark chamber if I want to survive this life. For in this place lies the secret to my survival.

I have always looked outward to find what I needed to survive this life. And I have found, always, just enough to keep me going. My parents, my ex-husband, my therapist, my creditors, doled out cash or gifts or credit to me that have, to this point, provided me with enough material wealth to sustain myself.

But my skill in maneuvering people into “taking care” of me seems to be floundering, and this era of sucking off the resources of others is coming to an end. My relief about this is profound, because it has been inordinately difficult to be a professional “fundraiser”; to always be out hustling, and to only make enough to barely scrape by.

It has been an ugly, brutal existence; I have always felt like a child of the depression, a waif standing out on the street dressed in tattered clothing, hoping to attract the good will of some sympathetic person.

Oh God, the brutality of this life. My stomach is clenched with the rage of it; the pain and betrayal.

All of the nice, middle-class benefits my family dangled in front of me — the luxuries, the comforts, the contented self assurance that one’s basic life needs would be met.

They dangled these things in front of me; let me taste them and feel them and develop a need for them, at the same time peeling away the layers of my being so that I would be incapable of earning them for myself.

They couldn’t have been more brutal, my family. It made them feel powerful and important to rip away the protective layers of a child’s identity.

They knew that by robbing me of my integrity, my self, they would create a person who would always need them; always be less self-assured, less effective, and more needy than they felt themselves.

They stripped me and stripped me; left me feeling always as if I were standing naked in a blizzard. My outer self was decimated, but there were parts on the inside they were not able to get to.

I have no choice now but to let myself descend into this inner chamber because my survival is at stake, and it is only here that I will find the parts of myself that will enable me to survive. I have known about this region for years, but I’ve been too scared to venture into it.

As scary as this treacherous descent feels, the realities about it are quite comforting. The sooner I begin living life as the person I was meant to be, the sooner I can give up my miserable existence of fear and desperation.

The sooner I give up my life of fear and desperation, the sooner I can feel the joy and comfort and utter calm of feeling that I have a place on this earth, that I belong here; that I matter to a few people and add richness to their lives.

I cannot imagine, today, having any of these feelings, for all I have ever known is the moment-to-moment fear of life-threatening danger.

I have no choice now; I have to put on my gear — my scuba tank and my flippers, I have to stand on the edge of a boat, take a very deep breath, and let myself go. I will go down, down, down until I find my home at last.

I am so curious now — who is this person I have been hiding and protecting so very carefully all of these years, who is this she?

I can’t wait to find out.