Archive for the 'Adult Children' Category

Alll this fixing and still broken

Years of hard work, changing habits, examining motives, understand tendencies and using the tools I have found to make myself more whole; to help myself be an adult on the inside…all of that and more yet, I get this far only to realize there’s an enormous part of me that’s still a fucking child.

Oh how frustrating this discovery is, that I, when motivated by the right external forces, revert back to the depressive, challenged and brokenhearted kid that has dominated my life for its entire existence.

Feeling my thoughts go back to that awful rumination, that inability to see the truth and going into that place where nobody likes me, everyone hates me and all I am left with is eating worms is harrowing. Seriously though, how disheartening to realize all of this recovery has to happen on several concurrent platforms of my identity, some of which I didn’t realize were lacking. I’ve made great strides in professionalism, self-interests, socialization, friend making, appearance, expectations, planning, my money…but then to get blindsided by another plank of my person that I forgot to experience and grow is as frustrating as all hell.

Ugh! This is love? I forgot about love! How could I forget that emotion?

So here we go again, back to the slow slog of change, back to the road to recovery and once again to feeling things long dormant that must be felt and experienced while making subtle changes to get to a place where I can feel and be whole again. Thank you Universe for reminding me that my job is nowhere near finished.

And thank you to an old friend for reminding me about this part of me that I have been avoiding. You woke me up and now I can’t go back again. You brought me joy which I turned into pain, that has always been my way. Without you I’d just be in denial. Mad mad props.

Missed your window

Yeah, what if you missed your window, woke up too late? You could start over. You could push through and yes, start again but a forty year old man isn’t suppose to be waiting on his peers, he’s suppose to be blazing his own trail and blah blah.

My generation is full of nihilists and definitely not capitalists and stuck behind the cushion of life’s couch. I managed to squeeze out but I’m still picking crumbs and lint from my hair.

When I meet someone and they seem uncomfortably hard to be around, they are probably a lot like me. I’ve also noticed there aren’t that many general personality types, behavior-wise and it is possible to predict people’s reaction more readily than I thought it would have been.

Growing up is putting aside childish things and that is true when I consider my growth, at this late stage, and how immature certain aspects of my behavior were as an adult.

I have a chronological age: 42. I also have an inner child/emotional age that I can always check by just asking myself and listening to what that inner voice tells me (the first number that pops into your head). Everyone has this ability and the ‘inner child’ knows this and will give you that number. When I was 32 and started redoing my personality, my inner voice would answer ‘13′ years old. I was an emotional 13 year old.

After 10 years of good therapy and rebuilding I have hit about 28.

Back door to mediatating: Chanting

We’ve pretty much started realizing that meditation, like exercise and eating right, is an essential part of a healthy lifestyle in that it reduces stress and helps things like PTSD recovery and any number of mind related stresses.

But I always had a horrible time meditating as I couldn’t get the perfect time, a quiet moment, a settled moment or even the mindset to consider creating the space. My mind was always racing and I’d be 10 steps in front of where I was when I thought I should be meditating and would just shrug it off and move on.

Then i got introduced to a form of Nichiren Buddhism (Japanese) that chants “Nam Myoho Renge Kyo” (which is also the title of the ‘Lotus Sutra’ (without the ‘Nam’)) and away i went chanting a little here and a little there…

Once I got the phrase down and felt comfortable repeating it over and over I found I could launch into meditation a lot faster. I also noticed the repetition of the words, the speaking, the chanting, gave my brain something to do and allowed me to train myself to sit still and take some time. i didn’t need bells or music. i didn’t need silence or to settle down, I could just launch into the chant and in a few moments be literally meditating.

Now after 3 years I have actually chanted (with heavy meditation) for over 3 hours straight! (a huge victory for my ADHD, short attention span self.)

And after years of going through alcohol recovery and personality recovery I truly believe this form of chanting might just be a killer back door for people who find traditional quiet meditation untenable. These links below are slow and fast version of someone chanting ‘Nam Myoho Renge Kyo’ in a meditative state:

Slow version: http://www.sgi-usa.org/newmembers/resources/slowgongyo/daimoku_slow.mp3

Fast Version: http://www.sgi-usa.org/newmembers/resources/slowgongyo/daimoku_fast.mp3

- *Nam* - Naam (Like VietNAM)

- *Myoho* - Mee-Yo-ho

- *Renge kyo* (pronounced together:) Wren Geck Ee-yo

You are suppose to put the emphasis on ‘Myoho’ because it is the ‘mystic power’ that kicks the stuff into gear

Naam Mee-yo-ho Wren-geck-ee-yo

And here’s more explanation from Wikipedia - Diamoku (chanting Nam Myoho Renge Kyo):

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Daimoku

These are days

How do you ask for help from the world around you? Do you yell at the top of your lungs? Do you whisper? Do you beg?

I’m crying on and off, choked up like I’m watching an Old Yeller retrospective. No rhyme, no reason just crying and sadness and a direct connection to the part of me that is very sad.

These days I miss my anti-depressants, my SSRI - the beautiful little bubble I used to live in that protected me from myself.

I’ve started yelling at people to defend the little boy inside from their shitty behavior. He loves it but, them? Not so much. He thinks its cool because I never used to defend him and would let people walk all over me. But I think I need to find a middle ground where I don’t sound so much like a crazy person that just got visited by aliens.

I’m a 16 year old boy in the body of a 41 year old man. My feelings are racing between highs and lows and my mind and my body don’t know what to do. I’d blame the alcohol I recently started imbibing again after a 9 year hiatus but that just seems like a cop out. Truth be told, this is what I should have been doing when I was young - to learn how to be stable, strong, confident, happy and content. So here I am in my 40ies when I should be going through a mid-life crisis and am instead having a teenage dream of growing up.

I will power through these issues, this maturity, the coldness of a world that just doesn’t seem to give a shit. And I will try my best to make these growths with grace and subtlety and avoid the wild mood swings becoming bludgeons with which I beat the people around me.

Forgive me world. growing up is hard.

How come he doesn’t want me

Everything I could ever say about my father is said in this clip:


I don’t necessarily blame him because his father did the same to him but, without the ability to express it to him, this clip is all I have. Feelings of abandonment are the hardest to face. They reside in the darkest holes and deepest pits of our psyche. Thanks to the Fresh Prince, I can cry about it now.

Celexa 20mg

It finally came time for me to stop taking my little buddy, my good friend that had been shielding me from myself, my feelings and my emotions for so long: Celexa 20mgs, SSRI taken once daily!

Celexa was an excellent part of my recovery that helped fix the pattern of up/down, manic/depression I had created through a dysfunctional childhood and drug filled adulthood. It helped retrain my brain to live in the shallower regions of emotional extremes so I could start to untangle myself from the mis-learning and lack of learning so common in ALL types of dysfunctional upbringings (alcohol, drugs, workaholics, sex addicts, etc .)

Well, I was lucky and along with Celexa I had a well-versed in new therapies analyst that helped me not only work on the chemicals insides but the mental, physical and sociological issues that all must be addressed in an aggressive recovery. Celexa held the damn from bursting while I was given the space to explore who I was, what was missing and what was needed to thrive.

Now 8 years later I have come so far I can’t even believe it sometimes. I often get mired in day to day drama and forget how much progress I’ve made in my personality, my depression, my sadness, my dread, my life, my confidence and especially my relationship to my inner child.

And all of that possible with the help from a tiny little pill that held my serotonin in when I just wanted to dump it out all at once.

Withdrawal is hard, it’s been 3 weeks after tapering off over a month long period and the side effects are daunting - twitches, zaps, neck/back pain, dizziness, vertigo and many others but also a profound reawakening of my sadness and my relationship to my emotions. I had forgotten how lovely poetry can be and how much I could feel and express but also what it feels like to do a lot of crying and some downright sobbing.

But my work over the last 8 years is holding and while extremely sad right now I am compensating with my newfound areas of recovery (exercise, diet, socialization, meditation, sleep and fun) and making sure I keep things in proper perspective. I know that I will be fine. My little guy inside knows I will be fine and together we are coping and actually enjoying this emotional reawakening.

So…I j ust want to say thank you to my little buddy: I took you for granted and never understood so fully what you were shielding me from. Now that you’re gone I promise I will keep working hard to fill myself in the right way so that all your good work will not be for naught.

Good bye buddy.

smeared

…across my face.

I send props to my creativity, while awesome it is hidden behind a defense system almost not worth fighting.

Maybe I’m not going to ever be a worthwhile writer, a worthwhile member of society. Might be that I am just a regular bloke that does his job, keeps his head down and muddles through life.

But Americans are taught they can be anything, do anything and shoot all the way to the top. They soaked my addled mind with such tripe when I was a little boy. My grandmother took me aside once and told me:

I see you becoming famous one day. Not sure why or how but I think you’ll be an actor.

Now, I’ve been waiting ever since, frozen and unable to act upon this bit of information. One thing to tell some kid that to help him along but to say that and then do nothing support wise, school wise, college wise - hell, how about require me to do my homework?

I lived a childhood where the most important thing was keeping things smoothed over to avoid the inevitable drunken fight between my parents. I didn’t care about books, just peace. And here I am decades later and I’m still that little boy - frozen, scared and motivated by a desire to be left alone and do nothing.

Maybe I will never reach escape velocity to leave my childhood behind.

Science has found that 75% of our adult behaviors were developed before the age of 10 and never change. And what if those behaviors were learned poorly or not at all? Nothing worse than an adult walking around with a childish mindset; making childish mistakes, using childish emotions, being an adult child.

Will I ever escape this…

Go to tell your 16 yr. old self something

Oh fuck dude, where do I begin? Lemme see….

You’re not at all fat! Actually as it turns out, you are very handsome but just got lied to by people that should have been protecting you but instead destroyed you. Keep repeating over and over until you believe it the truth: you are aren’t fat. You’re very handsome and a really good guy. I am so fucking proud of you. Do you know that?

And what do you want to be? What do you want to do? And I don’t mean smoke pot all the time and get drunk. What else? You’re a great writer but your still illiterate technically at 16. You’re writing is like a really creative mess. Ask for help. I want you to apply yourself and if you do you will be so happy, I promise. Apply yourself, please? If you do? You can still smoke pot. Okay?

And pretty soon you’re gonna need therapy and I want you to start whenever you feel up to it, okay? You’re depressive, buddy. A big cute depressive guy. I want you to get help, okay? Check out ACOA and IBP therapy…get a head start cause your 30ies will be a fucking ride and a half :-/

But I’m so proud of you. I’m so proud of how you end up fighting through your depression and changed your life. I’m so proud of how good you are at heart and how you removed those defense mechanisms and let people love you. You can do anything buddy, so don’t ever sell yourself short and start writing more and you’ll be so happy.

I love you

Rejection

Any relationship is under the control of the person who cares the least

I have been entangled with a female friend/lover for 15 years and it has been 15 years of “come here, come here” mixed with a lot of ‘get away, get away’. And as the both of us have gotten better in our separate ACOA-type recoveries, I find that neither one of us can change or stop this dance and the roles are desperately hard to change.

The first five years she was in love with me but I was living with a girlfriend. I think that bind-ed her to me through rejection. Then 5 years later we come together again and for a year we were able to be lovers…but our recoveries ripped our intimacy apart and we went our ways. But we never let go fully, always keeping a line open.

Fast forward to the last 2 years and I am better but can’t let go of her. Things have swung and I am seeing her for the first time; the beauty, the passion, the friend, the lover - but of course, now she is reluctant and doesn’t care as much as I do…she wants to be the super close friends we always were but doesn’t want the lover I can be and want.

And on the cycle will go as two people spin their sick dance of intimacy, unable to break free and live their lives in the new way they have discovered through recovery and unable to take the relationship to a secure and safe place of love and support.

The good news is that I am finally a man in my heart and cannot (for the first time in 15 years) let this twisted, unsatisfying relationship continue like this. I confronted her and told her the truth. Of course she didn’t reciprocate and wants me to remain as a brother-type friend which I refuse to do. I broke off any friendship and am respecting hers and my boundaries.

————————————-

It’s just so frustrating to realize the last 15 years were wasted when I could have been experiencing relationships and love and all kinds of things that were lost to my scared mind that holds onto sick relationships like a junkie to his drug. Releasing her this last time is so hard and scary but for the first time in my life it is not a dreaded thing that will kill me. I will be okay and flourish but I worry that my weakness for her will lead me back down the path of this sick intimacy that her and I share.

But honestly, I know this sounds a little dark and truth be told, I am so much better than I ever was and so much more mature than at any time in my life. The air is cool and the sun shining. i will be fine.

These are the Universe

Get out of that skin and get
into that freedom

strip down
nothing in my pockets

run much slicker, safer
open toed and barely strapped

Fling a thing away
I’m choking collars and belts

spitting teeth plated
enamel too heavy

I want em floating in haze

___________________________________________________

Come on Universe, meet me half way. Feels like you’re not doing your part and letting me flounder about trying to manifest in a vacuum.

And I’m so lonely in my heart, so vacant in my love. Haven’t been touched enough, touch starved.

And no one holds me out as special, out above all else. I am just as unimportant to them as I used to be to myself. I don’t understand intimacy, I don’t know love and affection.

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