Boundaries of the Mind

By all psychological definitions I should be psychotic, locked up. In the book Boundaries of the Mind, the descriptions of various psychotic conditions include how the mind fixes its boundaries - the essence of who a person is. One of the questions involves that time between waking and sleeping and another questions hyper-sensitivity. Some of the more easily understood questions involve the uses of various rooms of a house. Do you perceive that a room has only one use? Or various uses?

After reading and re-reading this book, I realized that I have few boundaries. I dream entire science fiction stories in graphics and color. I have had visions of myself waking up in that moment between sleep and waking. I have few firmly fixed ideas about the uses of rooms or objects. I can be whoever I think you want me to be - Oh, not forever, but at least for a while. I've held many jobs far beyond my training because I became who the employer thought could do the job - sometimes I did, sometimes I didn't. I can be the life of the party or the wall flower.

I can even be you or think that I am you (that's called co-dependency sometimes). In movies, I become a part of the story and that lingers for a while afterward. A few minutes of meditation and I am a fairy...or I think that I can work miracles (unfortunately God lets me do that occasionally - just encourages my fantasy).

I talk to the other people in my head. They don't always agree with me, and we have had arguments. Sometimes I think one of those in my head might be God. That's when I really listen.

At times I think I can sense that something is happening to someone I know, more often someone I love. I can see spirits that live in houses when they want me to see them. We had a delightful little gray spirit dog in one house. He liked to be in the kitchen with me and would try to trip me.

I've learned some boundaries. I am not you nor am I God. I am not responsible for your happiness or well-being or what you do. I know who I am and who I am not.

But, I can live without many boundaries. I can be 13 when I remember my first boyfriend, and, if you interrupt my remembering, you might get a teenager's answer to a question. If I'm sitting with you when you die, I might feel your death in ways most people can't imagine. When I put my hand against a tree, I can feel its history.

Yes, imagination, but more - a oneness with almost everything. I can distance myself from this oneness, too. More and more often, I do that. It's less...less painful...less happy. Those highs and lows will break you.

Most people never know these things. I act and appear normal. But, I have written other people's stories without having heard them. They aren't all fun either. Waking at night to sense another's tears or worries brings sadness.

Oh yes, I'm crazy, but I'm not psychotic. I live a normal life. Oh, yes, I do.

Really, I think I've had too much time alone at home recovering from surgery, and I'm imagining all of this. Yeah, that's what I think.

The Religion of Family

I have a first cousin who was adopted into my family when she was four years old; I was sixteen. My aunt and uncle were so thrilled to have a daughter, though I had been their surrogate daughter for many years. The year she was adopted was the year after we left my father, the year after my brother died, the year after my nephew was born, the year after my mother made my brother marry the mother of my nephew...not all in that order. So, I wasn't particularly interested in a four-year-old. Finally, I wasn't the daughter of the town drunk; so I was enjoying my junior year of high school. I did see this adopted cousin several times over the next few years, and when I was 27 she came and spent two weeks with me. We had a good time. I think I've seen her twice since then.

She spent her after school time with my grandmother, who had been bitter about the troubles between my mom and dad. Consequently, I didn't spend much time with her. My uncle Myrvis lived with my grandparents and was an integral part of this cousin's life - as he never was part of mine. He and my Dad tried to out drink one another.

(I know this is rambling; hang in there with me.)

Myrvis is 89 years old now, and his health is failing rapidly. I knew enough of the relatives to follow him as he left his family home and moved into the Veterans Nursing Home and subsequently to an assisted living facility near his cousin, who cares for him. The adopted cousin did not know these people, and she has lost touch with my uncle.

This adopted cousin is not someone that I want in my life. She stole money from my aunt, was involved in drugs, birthed a child who was addicted and very much a problem in her teen years, and thought that I hung the moon. She chose her profession in life because that's where I was working the summer she visited me. She knew about my life as I grew into adulthood while I was totally uncaring of her existence.

As a thoughtful, caring, loving person, should I track her down and let her know where Myrvis is? What is my spiritual obligation to this family member? Myrvis was never terribly fond of this adopted cousin or me. I don't know if he would want to see her, and he doesn't talk on the telephone much; so I can't ask him. I asked the person who cares for him tonight; she said, "I don't know. You just have to do what you think is right."

So, what is right?

The religion of family. I want to pick and choose which members of my extended family that I want in my life. To a great extent, I believe that is a choice I can make even as a loving, caring person. I don't have to invite everyone into my life - that includes the ones who are family. Where do I get to set boundaries? What might be good for her, might not be good for me.

Perhaps I shall check the phone directory in the last place I knew she lived. Then, I'll make a decision. Meanwhile, I'm praying about this.

An hour later - I found a phone number that could be hers; I called, and I got no answer and no answering machine.