The greatest

I’m so afraid. I’m facing the worst fear I’ve ever felt in my life. I’m so terrified that I could be life threatened. These are the thoughts in my mind while thinking about a problem I’ve been going through. This is the greatest. The greatest, bad thing happening to me right now. It is huge, and again – I’m so afraid of it.

While studying dentistry and some medical subjects, especially forensics, which I’m in particular fond to; at some point I started thinking about death. Law and medicine are often confronted, but forensics is the part of both medical and law sciences which questions, besides some other things – death. When the person is dead and there’s no one who’d speak in their name, forensics listen to body signs left there, the signs which’d tell the real story about it. I like the truth, especially the hidden one which can’t be just told, but the one you must seek for and look and listen carefully, and if you’re clever enough, you’ll find it and spread it.

Last week I was clumsy. As I said in my recent post, I got stabbed on an used needle. It was an irrigation needle in contact with saliva of three, for me unknown patients. All these years I thought that it can’t happen to me and it will never happen. I’m careful.

But my worst nightmare came true.

As I tried to put a cap on a syringe the needle broke through it and stabbed me. I felt the stab and saw the drop of blood. I washed and disinfected the wound. And now I pray.

That was the pressure I’ve never felt before, as if I’m going to explode. I came home and was quiet for tree days. Although I checked up patients’ records and saw no infective diseases recorded I can’t let that burdening feeling go.

The thing about specific virus hepatitis is that it often gives no symptoms although a person is the carrier. Some people never even feel sickness or any kind of discomfort.

In order to detect antibodies in my system, if an infection occurred, it needs to pass between 6 weeks and 3 months, at least. This will be the time I’ll fly above it. And keep thinking what if.

During last week I kept thinking about what my life would look like if the tests I’m about to take would be positive. I’m ill. Like I’m dirty. In my blood there is something bad, taken from another person by mistake while trying to help and do my job. I’m young. I’ll have no family, no children. People will be afraid of me. My family will feel unpleasant around me, so as my friends. I’ll be rejected once again. I cried. I cried so much. I missed myself. No one saw that; my mother kept talking me about some idiotic problems that are bothered by other people from my surrounding, such as my cousin’s bad grades. I though: “If you’d only knew…” I’ll die alone. I’m going to be a threat to anyone who’d approach me. No one would step out and help me if I were in trouble, bleeding, because I could easily infect them… and so on.

I felt so restless. I’ve been having a problem about which I couldn’t speak to anyone. If I’d tell someone in my closest family, for example my mother, she’d call her sister (my aunt) in despair and tell her about that and then it’d spread to my granny and my other aunt and then they’d contact me in horror to remind me once again how bad my current position is and how that happened, why weren’t I more careful, which are the last words I should listen about in that very moment.

I couldn’t keep it for myself and yet again, I couldn’t just yell about it either. Two days ago I was sitting in the living room with my parents. I told them: “I don’t want to do dentistry anymore”. On their question why’s that I answered partially with my problem which was bothering me so hard. I told them that I’m terrified of deadly, severe and life changing infections to which we are, as medical workers, exposed day by day.

Unexpected, I got the best comfort from my dad. I’m not sure if he figured out that my fear is quite real or not, but he comforted me with the right words. His action somehow released me from two things that were struggling inside of me. The first one was, of course, the actual problem I faced. The second one is the fear that he abandoned me long time ago. He didn’t. He was the one who felt. He didn’t tell me some irrelevant tales about others or overwhelmed me with some marginal everyday issues. He gave me some kind of logical explanation about the situation that could be mine… That was all I needed to hear at that moment. During this week I bumped to many people who just kept talking about themselves, their problems, other people problems… I had to listen to all of that and I couldn’t talk about my very own tragedy.

He reminded me that, once again, 2 + 2 in medicine is not necessarily always 4.

It may not be a strong theory. It may not be true. But my mind needs some explanation and someone to tell me that everything will be alright.

I’ll find out my equation in a month.

Thanks, dad.

Restless

I’ve been reading some posts recently about family and relationships and how complex and related these two can be while shaping one’s personality. Family dictates relationships. Family is the place where we learn how to treat others, how to behave and how to form social patterns. You represent your family.

It is not only about the spoken and directed instructions, but also about imposed role models. There are things that we inherit and the things that we look at or listen everyday, so those become our behavioral models. We adopt them wanted or not and represent them in our adolescence and later in adulthood.

When the models are bad, you’re bad even if you’re not being aware of it. But you try your best still because someone explained and rooted into you that a certain thing is a good thing.

Looking inside myself I can name all the bad things I have adopted from both of my parents. Some characteristics are disgusting for me and I believe that others can see them very well. I’m afraid of it.

I think that in my family we’re all living in an illusion. On one side there’s my mother who’s so transparent. She affects only a little. There’s my father on the other who neglects us. A lot.

Talking about role models what I could adopt from him was poor behavior and relation to others, not appreciating anyone in current surrounding or doing it in a very rough way, selfishness as an usual act, no tolerance and underestimating other people, alcohol issues. That’s what he offered to me.

As nothing is black and white, I can only thank him for giving me the money with which I used to live one fine life here, paid my university and vacations, gave me home to live in. But there’s a gap that I can feel between us and it is so dark.

I’ll explain this as a girl. As a feminine confronted by other man, the close one. When I was about eight years old some of the girls in the class had their hair done by lightening hair strands. I asked my mother to do the same for me, so she took one strand and made it lighter. It was nice and I was so happy and proud to have that strand, but my father called me a slut, although I was only eight. That happened in front of my mother so I asked what does that mean and she started an argue. If you ask me that was a mild reaction of my mother since it ended soon and affected my father 0%. Later on I learned the meaning of the word so I can call this my first unfair defeat.

When I was about 12 he got home drunk and beaten me up with a cable for no reason. He broke my glasses. I told that to my mother and then again she made an argue about it. So when he got sober he made one quiet apologize to me and continued to whistle.  Basically, nothing happened to me in a physical manner, although it looks a bit dramatic, but I felt jeopardized inside. I learnt that he can do that just because he want to and it is ok, and it will pass, but I can’t feel free in my own home. Again I lacked mother’s support.

When I was 15 he took my dog away from me because he wanted to. It was a big one, Dalmatiner. The dog was sad and melancholic in our home because no one would walk him. I wanted but he was too strong so I needed help. Besides, he wasn’t vaccinated. Whenever I asked for money for vaccine he’d answer ironically: “well pay it with your own money”. The dog was always locked in his fenced place in the back yard. He was howling and that bothered neighbors. Twice, he managed to get away. Both times we found him, but my father wouldn’t let go of his idea of how the dog should be kept so he put him in a trailer and drove him to countryside and let him go. I was so depressed. He never listened to me and he never wanted us to take care about the dog although he brought him… Month and a half after that the dogcathers found him. They called father first because he’s a vet. They asked if he’d maybe like to take the dog back since it is a quality breed etc. He told them to kill the dog… This makes me sad even today for various reasons. Not only that he didn’t care about my emotions at all but he didn’t care for that dog either, so he just killed him. If he thought he’d never manage to take care of him, he shouldn’t has bought him at first place.

At 21 we shopped together by chance in a local drug market, when he molested a female marketeer in front of me. I was sad and humiliated and felt bad in front of all the people who heard it and saw it. I tried to ask him what was he doing, what is wrong with him when we got out but he just laughed. Later, he made fun of it, of myself and my reaction when we got home…

At the age of 24 I’ve met a boy who I liked at first. But at some point of dating he called me a “gold digger“. I didn’t take it to my heart because I believe you must be quite of an idiot if you call a person you date like that. Soon after that ended I took my Swedish course that autumn, because I wanted to convince myself, beside I liked the language,  that I also have a purpose, that I’m progressing and that I’m good and hard working and that I have a merit. My father’s comment was: ” You’re throwing our money away, it won’t use you, why are you doing it?”. Never mind. I continued doing it for almost two years. At some point in the autumn I was about to go on a friend’s birthday party. It wasn’t that cold although it was October so I wore jeans and jacket and heels. When my father saw me like that he called me “a gold digger”. I’m not sure did he know what that means actually, but  again I felt bad. It is the second time that someone calls me like that, no more no less, but a person who brought me up, who should be my protector and who should teach me how to deal with all those rude comments made by other unknown men, but no, he stepped on their side to call me less worthy, a slut, a person who f***s for money… I felt bad. I was sad and unprotected. My mother drove me to my friend’s house from where we should be heading to a local bar or something like that. I was crying in the front seat. But her reaction again, was indefinite, even awkward. She asked me why am I crying when he meant nothing bad, it’s nothing, he wasn’t serious, those words weren’t as they sound… That wasn’t the only time he called me like that. He did it before. And my other parent never actually acknowledged that and protected me, but she silently accepted it as true…

I’m full of bad experiences in relationships with other men. I’ve never been pretty to anyone, attractive, accepted or smart. Maybe it is true that we seek for our fathers in other men we date. We seek for those characteristics of others that broke us into pieces when we were younger; we want to prove that we are different, that they are wrong, that we are not as they perceive us, that we are good and worthy, we want to heal.

I can’t compensate my bad relationship experiences at home. At home those bad experiences get confirmed and by that mean I get defeated. I am bad, worthless, shameful. Relationship experiences, same as all the other experiences. But why I highlight relationships is because it is the sphere of my life which I somehow can’t conquer, which is unclear to me and full of bad and painful emotions which I can’t explain. People are social animals. We always seek acceptance in each other. It is normal and it is in our nature. We need other people’s support. Those who are close to us. We just need them.

The same thing repeated when I started with my Hungarian language lessons. The father said: “it’s pointless, you’re not smart enough to learn it. I can’t actually see that you’re progressing…”

But I do. I will leave once because my inner self is suffering. I need to protect the kid in me. She’s crying because she’s at her best and again called shameful, offending names by others especially, those who should be on her side. I keep comforting her that she is pretty and smart and good; that she has a big heart and that she is better than all those people who tend to trip her. But still, she can’t be fixed completely. There are things that she’ll bring with herself wherever she goes.

What’s interesting was one dream I’ve been dreaming a lot while I was about 4 or 5. It repeated for years and that’s how I remembered it so well. Beside, it was unpleasant. It kept tormenting me and I couldn’t understand it quite right until recently. It was about my dad and I, we were driving in a car. He parked the car in front of a health center in my town, where there was a small parking lot. We got outside the car when he told me: “Wait for me, I’ll come back for you”. Then he came back in the car and left. I saw him leaving, but it was foggy around me. So I got scared and tried to look up for him and come back home. I was wandering that foggy street. There was no one, it was all cloudy and grey, all the doors and windows were closed, as if it was abandoned. I was still wandering. The scenes kept repeating. There was no one and I was going round and round. And then I’d wake up. It was one of the most unpleasant dreams I’ve ever had and I kept dreaming it over and over again for some time. I would be sad every time I’d wake up. That feeling of being abandoned scared me a lot. Once I told him about the dream, but he laughed at it: “I’d never leave you like that.” So my adult self must laugh to this, in return.

Speaking again about the idea of girls seeking father figures in other men they date scares me. I don’t want someone to disrespects me. I have emotions and I can say or do lot of things. I’m not just someone. At least I wouldn’t like to spend my life beside a person who treats me just as “someone”or even worse. Knowing that this pattern could transfer to my partner life with someone scares me. I don’t want to live life that way. It is awful and sad. I don’t need that kind of relationship neither that kind of person.