Journal of Dysfunction, Denial, and Discovery: The Reluctant Lesbian
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This book is the story of seeking acceptance in a 1970–1980s alternative lifestyle world while suffering from an undiagnosed bipolar condition. Told through journaling over six years, the story focuses on a victim in a loving yet frustrating and sometimes abusive relationship with another woman, and finally as a graduate student seeking su
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Journal of Dysfunction, Denial, and Discovery - Elizebeth Harding
Elizebeth Harding
JOURNAL OF DYSFUNCTION, DENIAL, AND DISCOVERY
Copyright © 2019 Elizebeth Harding
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Stratton Press Publishing
831 N Tatnall Street Suite M #188,
Wilmington, DE 19801
www.stratton-press.com
1-888-323-7009
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in the work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
ISBN (Paperback): 978-1-64345-828-1
ISBN (Ebook): 978-1-64345-829-8
Printed in the United States of America
Contents
Cast of Characters
Story Start
November 3, 1979
February 1980
Later February 1980
March 8, 1980
March 16, 1980
March 30, 1980
March 31, 1980
April 27, 1980
Later
May 4, 1980
August 1980
September 1980
October 16, 1980
October 18, 1980
November 23, 1980
November 25, 1980
December 17, 1980
January 18, 1981
January 20, 1981
March 20, 1981
May 4, 1981
May 17, 1981
May 21, 1981
May 25, 1981
August 19–20, 1981
August 21, 1981
August 22, 1981
Later August 22, 1981
Even Later August 22, 1981
August 23, 1981
Later August 23, 1981
Even Later, August 23, 1981
August 24, 1981
August 25, 1981
August 26, 1981
August 27, 1981
August 29, 1981
August 30, 1981
August 30, 1981 6:30 p.m.
August 31, 1981
September 1, 1981
Later September 1, 1981
September 2, 1981
September 3, 1981
September 4, 1981
September 5, 1981
September 8, 1981
September 12, 1981
November 2, 1981
November 30, 1981
January 16, 1982
January 18, 1982
January 19, 1982
January 25, 1982
January 28, 1982
February 1, 1982
February 9, 1982
February 14, 1982
February 19, 1982 3:15 a.m.
February 21, 1982
February 22, 1982
February 23, 1982
February 27, 1982 1:30 a.m.
February 27, 1982 9:00 a.m.
11:30 p.m.
March 2, 1982
March 3, 1982
March 4, 1982 7:30 a.m.
March 8, 1982 2:30 a.m.
March 8, 1982 Later
March 8, 1982 Even Later
March 9, 1982
March 11, 1982
March 16, 1982
March 20, 1982
Later March 20
March 21, 1982
March 21, 1982 9:40 p.m.
March 22, 1982 7:30 a.m.
March 24, 1982
March 25, 1982 4:00 a.m.
March 31, 1982
April 3, 1982 6:30 a.m.
April 28, 1982
May 2, 1982
May 3, 1982
May 4, 1982
May 5, 1982
May 6, 1982
May 7, 1982
May 10, 1982
May 11, 1982
May 17, 1982
May 18, 1982
Later
May 22, 1982
May 23, 1982
May 24, 1982
May 29, 1982
June 2, 1982
June 12, 1982
June 14, 1982
June 15, 1983
June 21, 1982
June 22, 1982
June 23, 1982
June 26, 1982
June 27, 1982
June 28, 1982
June 29, 1982
June 30, 1982
July 1, 1982
July 14, 1982
August 22, 1982
October 15, 1982
October 21, 1982
November 1, 1982
November 2, 1982
November 4, 1982
November 5, 1982
November 6, 1982
November 11, 1982
November 17, 1982
November 29, 1982
January 9, 1983
February 2, 1983
April 16, 1983
June 22, 1983
June 23, 1983
September 1983
October 18, 1983
October 1983
November 1983
December 1983
February 12, 1984
May 26, 1984
May 30, 1984
June 5, 1984
April 4, 1985
April 30, 1985
May 3, 1985
May 4, 1985
May 5, 1985
May 19, 1985
May 20, 1985
May 21, 1985
May 22, 1985
May 23, 1985
June 20, 1985
Epilogue
Cast of Characters
Story Start
I am a huge women’s collegiate basketball fan. I absolutely love to watch as the season progresses and have been known to have a game on the TV, another on the computer, and a third on the iPad. If I can be there in person, it is even better, and I have traveled to several Final Four tournaments, regionals, and first-round NCAA games. I am in love with Pat Summitt and all she stood for in women’s basketball. I have personally met many legends of the coaching game: Vivian Stringer, Cathy Rush, Marianne Stanley, Lucille Kavallas, Rene Portland, Tara VanderVeer, Muffet McGraw, and, yes, even Pat Summitt. I have talked with Tyler Summitt both as a young son of Pat and as a coach at Louisiana Tech. It may seem surprising that I have this love of women’s basketball since, in my first and only year of coaching high school girls’ basketball, we lost our first game 54–1. Yes. 54–1. I will never forget Greta Dylan, my high scorer for the game. I did improve as nine years later I coached fifth grade girls’ basketball, and we ended the season 3–0. But seriously, my love for the game came from working and being with one of the most fantastic coaches and teachers I have ever known, at that time the love of my life and the center of my world. Her name was Andie. It was a thirty-six-year relationship of love and abuse.
Each season my love for the game grows stronger, and I become an addict, feasting on game after game and wondering often if women’s basketball is offering her the same pleasure as it once did, now that she is bedridden at eighty-five and leading what I would presume is a sad existence. We no longer are in communication with each other because after thirty-seven years of ups and downs, I decided that I could no longer handle the emotional abuse I had endured for years.
In 2013, on a trip south with her, I was so upset that I had my medications lined up and ready to swallow. I made some phone calls and gained the strength to put the drugs away and to cope with the last few days that I would have to endure on the trip. At age sixty-three, I finally decided enough was enough, and I withdrew myself from contact with the exception of sending birthday and Christmas cards. I am not sure why I even do that anymore.
I knew throughout the relationship that I was in serious need of psychological help, but social stigmas kept me away until I sought therapy while attending graduate school for my doctorate in the 1980s. From there I continued it as I moved into a new state and a new job. Now having retired, I am with a new psychiatrist who has finally hit the nail on the head for me: bipolar disorder. And although I do not have the euphoric highs, the lows are so low that I qualify for such a label. The doc has found the right kind of medication, and I am able to now be content with myself and my lifestyle, and I can look back to those years that were so joyful/painful with objectivity. It is truly a miracle that I am alive and functioning in this world.
Thus I begin to tell my story of seeking acceptance in a 1970–1980s alternative lifestyle world while suffering from an undiagnosed bipolar condition. Told through my journaling over six years, I share my story as an elementary physical education teacher, a victim in a loving yet frustrating and sometimes abusive relationship, and finally as a graduate student seeking success through academic accomplishment. I claw my way through a self like-hate relationship as I seek the love and approval of others and consider ending my life at many turns. It is a story that represents the worst six years of a life of depression and self-loathing. Whereas a retrospective would say to the outside world that I had all the wonderful opportunities that my life could afford, most did not see nor recognize the signs of the mental illness beneath. Notes interjected throughout the journal help you, dear reader, to follow the thought process by clarifying relationships and events.
Note: Beginning in the town of Burroughs, New York, Elizebeth is an elementary physical educator and lives alone in a small chalet with her dog, Tatum, and her cat, Tippy. She is very much in love with an older woman whom she met professionally three years prior, and the relationship is akin to an emotional roller coaster. The older woman has accepted her love and adoration and has returned it in kind. The love of her life lives with another woman, Jerri, who, she was told, is a housemate and not involved in a relationship. Elizebeth would later learn that was not true.
November 3, 1979
This is my journal where I write mostly when life drags me down. But I must try to talk in less definitive terms for, should it be found, it could be difficult for some. I am again prattling
on and, I am sure, hardly making any sense to anyone but myself. For someday someone will read these writings and think of what an odd sort of person I am—I assure you, dear reader (whoever you may be), I am truly an odd sort of person and will most definitely continue in that vein as I continue to grow. So read on, my friend…
February 1980
What a fantastic trip we had to Jamaica! Four of us stayed at the beachside hotel, which was an elegant experience, and even though I could not stay in a room with my true love, we spent hours beaching, playing tennis, and enjoying cocktails, elaborate meals, and entertainment of steel bands. The weather was fantastic, and the tours we took were informative and beautiful. This would be an experience that could never be replicated; everyone was happy, and time stood still for us. Our choice was