Fences

B'H
Fences create divisions. They separate things and draw boundaries where none shall cross without permission. We need borders and boundaries. When does the process of separation begin? From birth when nature forces us to separate from out mothers and the umbilical cord is cut, we strive to create and break boundaries. We are separated and constantly seek to re attach or to create a feeling of belonging to understand the feeling of home.
Some of us are forced into the role of refugees by our birth. Maybe there is a parent who lacks paternal or maternal feelings for a child and that child is forced on the outer and made to feel different or unwanted. Somehow that child is not a part of the family. The child is not told but feels in so many actions and words, that he or she is not as desirable as another child or somehow that he or she is a failure. He or she has failed to fulfil the expectations of one or both parents and therefore lacks.
He or she needs to rise about it or sink into failure and I have seen both.
Once I had outside my house where I was living a few years ago, a woman who was a regular visitor to the house next door. Now all went smoothly while this disruputable character Jimmy was her paramour and allowed her entry into the strange abode and the even stranger groups that used to visit this house. I think I blogged about it once. This house had cardboard over the windows. No curtains. Strange I used to think, when these people could have gone to Spotlight and gotten material for a few dollars a yard and run up some curtains. Far more attractive. I mean they all had good cars. One of them owned a jeep. A new one. He was a menacing looking character and dark Italian or Greek. Sort of reminded me of my sister-in-law in America except she is blonde and built like a bloated stone fish with blond tips to its fins. I always thought she would be the type to go in search of a mafia type hit man to knock you off if you displeased her in any way. A regular control freak with delusions about her own capabilities and business acumen. One thing she does do well is collect and hoard.
Anyway all of a sudden this woman was sleeping in her car outside the house. I used to write up in the little room ajacent to my son's room. I had a view of the street, the tree outside and the birds' nests and other trees and bats and all day and night life in the skies. I also could view the goings on and comings and goings of next door. Not that I wanted to but it was difficult to avoid at times. She was obviously also bonked out of her mind on something - whether legal or illegal - who knows or who cares. People who need drugs of any kind in the majority to get through life are losers and either not intelligent enough to know that drugs are bad or too lazy to eat properly and to look after themselves. I have no patience with people who pop pills every time something distresses them a little or want to be on an anti depressant high most of their lives. They probably only need a multi vitamin or vitamin B 12 and 5. However there is a whole industry out there telling them Zoloft and Prozac is the go when what they need is probably just a change of diet and lifestyle.
Anyway I watched Jimmy sneak past her car with his latest squeeze in tow and sometimes he would get past and other times, he and the latest would make a run for the door as she was busy clambering out of her car shouting abuse at them. They would lock the door and go up stairs and proceed to make such a noise doing what ever they were doing that I had to move my son and myself into my bedroom further up the hall. There would be a knocking on the adjoining wall of the bed head and lots of other unpleasant noises.
From the street would come howls of abuse. I even heard these animals laugh in amusement about her distress. She was stupid too. When obviously this man was a low type of creature, why did she hang around for more abuse? Why did she make such a spectacle of herself, yelling abuse at a second floor window, using lots of foul language and screaming and carrying on. Once I moved my son and self to my bedroom and shut my son's bedroom door, we could no longer here what was going on next door. Thank goodness. But we could still hear the anguished screams and pain of this woman.
Now one morning she was parked behind my car. I had to go to take my son to school and could not get out. She looked half dead. I found out who she was through her car registration and her mumbling a phone number at me. I rang it. It was some guy who worked for a large organisation. He was her father and her mother was a psychologist. So this woman came from a well off and well educated family, yet here she was at 37 or 39 and she looked older than I am and I am 57 sleeping in her car outside the house of a guy who does not want her, probably just used her for a year or so, she has blared her distress to the whole street and is sleeping in her car outside his house. I mean what gives? Where is your self respect to do something like that.
Her father came to collect her and to take her home from his work. Not a happy guy to be honest. Neither would I be. Where are her boundaries and understanding of what is proper behaviour? Why did she not go home and have a good cry and then move on with her life and forget him. Read a good book and be a hermit for a year or two. Don't spend all that energy on a mongrel. Build a fence around your emotions and don't let them wander aimlessly in public view.
I once visited the town near where I grew up and to be honest I had a chance meeting with a particularly vile individual who played with me and my emotions many years ago in the seventies. He actually made jokes about me when I was lying on the bitumen with a shattered leg. It was in a clothing shop where I was buying a pair of trousers. Not a word passed between us and he was with some fat tart that was his wife or current defacto. He rolled his eyes at me and giggled. Said something to his partner and they both looked at me and giggled trying in a mean way to get my attention.To be honest I looked at him and thought to myself, how on earth did I ever, ever think something of such a foul, vicious and basically mean individual? I pretended not to recognise him because even though it was over thirty years ago, I really had nothing to say to him. I wanted to be as far away from him as possible. I erected a fence of barbed razor wire in seconds and had several retorts ready in case he tried to renew an acquaintance with me.
Fences are our protection in physical life and in the non physical world. We need them.