Learning from Observing Myself from Others

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At what point in your life did you learn to step outside yourself?

Learning from Observing Myself from Others

Name: Jody A. Harmon
Email: bluestray@yahoo.com
Date: 09 Aug 2000
Time: 23:35:24
Remote Name: 204.214.120.5
Remote User:

Story

I have been an angry person -- so belligerent, at times, I am blind as a bat. It has a lot to do with being alone way too much. My ideas, rages, self-debates bounce off those dingy walls right back into my brain. They are not put in perspective by another human being and their own unique additions. Instead, all this bouncing around in and out of my brain alone magnifies thoughts that might, with input from others, remain in control.

All this often leads to issue blindness. I am right. Period. No outside input accepted. Yes, this has led to real problems. O.K. particularly with the local police. I don't do criminal behavior. I don't drink, don't do drugs, don't steal. But I do, when really wound up and way too isolated, see injustices as intolerable and go out of my way to invite confrontation over issues of injustice. It's funny almost. The issues I get so fired up about, pretending they are not related to me at all but to some other person's tribulations, ARE related to my problems. I just try to camouflage my intentions as not so selfish as that. I don't like to see myself as selfish, although sometimes I am.

O.K. I will cite a specific. I was arrested once, right before Christmas of 1997, for offensive littering and put in jail for it. There was more to the story. My friend Chris had just died unexpectedly. I felt alone. He had had a massive stroke in a store while buying me a Christmas present but had not died instantly and been transported to the hospital. I found out he was in the hospital, although I did not know what he was in for and assumed his hip replacement was again causing him trouble. I walked up and into his room, thought he was sleeping. A nurse pulled me away, said he had died two minutes earlier.

The next night I was out late, very upset, pouring rain, to buy groceries. I bought mainly cat food for the colony of stray cats I cared for by the river. A cop came along, asked me over and over what I was doing standing outside of Safeway at that hour of the morning. I replied, "I'm waiting for the rain to stop so I can walk home." I was also crying but trying to hide that.

The cop left, and so did I, walking alleys, back streets, slowly. The officer followed me, up one street, down the other, until finally he waited outside an alleyway for me in his patrol car. When I emerged, he demanded I get over to his car. I replied, "Look, I'm not doing anything illegal."

He said, "Get over here, now."

I did not comply, but replied, "If you are going to harass me for buying groceries, you can take them back to Safeway or keep them yourself." I dropped the two bags onto the sidewalk at that point. He responded by racing over, throwing me down, handcuffing me and hauling me off to jail. The charge? Offensive littering. Unjust? Hell yes, in my mind. Terribly unjust. It prompted me to go out and get a T-shirt lettered that said, "Support Your Loco Cops."

And it was not long afterwards, perhaps eight months later, that I further felt the unjust nature of this. I lived at a low income hotel. It promoted low self-esteem with rat and roach infested walls, leaky roofs, in a bad section of town, sleazy management. Plus, all the apartment doors opened inside to halls, connected to one elevator where everyone was in everyone else's faces all the time. Here were a bunch of chronically bored people, all disabled and more or less angry about their station and the stigma attached; all shoved together in this sleazy, noisy, filthy hotel. It is hard to generate self-respect in such places -- let alone get any respect at all from the outside world. This is one rich town. It serves to really separate the have-nots.

So, the street this hotel is on is bar country, five or six right on that street. Some nights, Thursday night especially, the designated student party night, all the university students would throng the bars and create havoc for those forced to try to live in the area. This night I had hid out along the river as long as possible, sick of the noise of the drunks rampaging. I came back just around 2:00 a.m. Some students in an SUV, drunk as hell, were smashing bottles all over the street and into the alley we had to come out and into to access our building. Bouncers from one bar came racing around the corner, asked me which ones were smashing bottles. I pointed them out.

Not two minutes later, several cop cars arrived. None of these students received any citations for littering. I had spent a night in jail for so much less. In fact, the cops almost patted them on the backs, joked with them, did not even make them pick up all this broken glass we would have to walk through the next morning. And I let those cops have it, a stream of verbiage outlining the unjust nature of this society and the Corvallis, Oregon, police force in particular. They pretty much said I was just nuts, to go to bed and forget about it.

It is pretty hard to forget about stuff like this when you live it every single day. But, it is also pointless to obsess over it. That changes nothing and feeds my own miserable state. So lately, I have been trying to step out of myself and see me through their eyes. I often see an angry person when I go over these type of incidents, perhaps unkempt, yelling, not making points with reason or rationale. I see a person who has done more complaining than actively seeking to better my situation. I see a person wanting conflict, not resolution. I realize some things count heavily if I want to make points or have a chance for another to see things as I do. I must first see myself or the world as they do to understand how they see me.

And there are other things that do count when I see me from another's perspective. Appearance does count. I do have to dress as nicely as I can, at least be clean. I do have to attempt to keep my car in good shape, free of trash. I do have to attempt to help others and this community whenever it is feasible. I do have to control my own behavior and act as reasonable as possible when conducting myself if I want to be respected or even listened to. I do have to try. I must be willing to give to have a right to sometimes take.

This has eased the tension I feel with the Corvallis police department. I stay, as much as possible, away from them and out of their way. I no longer try to invite confrontations. I try to see their side. They have in the past been forced to deal with my mental illness, a job they are untrained for and probably find distasteful. If I should find myself in need of their help again, or if someone else calls them concerned about my behavior, I will try to see myself through their eyes and let them know clearly how they can be of help. This will make their job easier and my feelings of injustice lesser.

See yourself from the eyes of others. It is a good education and useful information can be the result.

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