I love how after just 12 days with us Patch knows his name. It doesn’t matter what tone of voice I use, he knows and looks at me. He’s such a smart little ruffian, and I love him. It’s a kind of love I’m sure of, not one that leaves me wondering if I’m only mimicking love, or what I think it should be.
I’m also jealous of how certain he is of his name. Olivia was a random name I picked for this blog. Actually, one of my favorite television characters is Olivia Benson, so that’s why I chose it. But in real life I have two names.
My given name is A. I also belong to a society of historical re-enactors and my name there is G. Some friends call me A, some call me G. Family calls me A because they don’t understand my weird hobby. From some people though, or maybe for some of the parts in my head, A sounds wrong.
When my husband says my name I don’t always respond right away, or I get this momentary sense of panic. Like two people intimate with each other we don’t often call each other by name. So when he does it it’s a shock.
When my therapist uses my name is when it really triggers a moment of panic. Like some awful boundary has been crossed. I used to feel that way when he would disclose something very minor about himself in the early days of treatment. To the point that I asked him not to do it anymore. I didn’t want to see him as a person. I didn’t want to say his name in my head. I knew I had turned a corner about a year in when I could call him by name, out loud and in my head.
Sometimes I wonder if I’m invisible. If people will remember me. When I joined facebook I was amazed at the friend requests. I didn’t think I existed in people’s memories. Go figure.
Actually, I want to amend an earlier statement. I call my husband by his name all the time. I wonder why he doesn’t do the same?
Questions for another time I guess!