Drew in Zombieland

The biggest thing for me in my recovery was learning to ‘feel’ my body
and make the connection between what is in my head and what is
being felt in my body. Without that connection I would
never have made the HUGE strides that I have made.

Saying that, I have definately seen people that loved
their depression and wallowed in it. I never did that,
being a guy, we are taught to ignore and stuff our feelings.
I have an ex-girlfriend that LOVES her depression, loves to
disappear in her sadness…she thinks she is powerless
against her sadness…

But I digress…what is the difference between pity mode and mourning?

My answer would be multi-fold:

1. drop that term “self-pity mode” for me society has always said that
I should be strong and ignore my sadness. So ‘pity party’ and such
terms diminish the natural, emotions we feel.

We are adult children that are mourning the loss of a childhood we will
never get back That is huge and I for one will allow my self to
feel this sadness.

2. I will no longer stuff my emotions. I will no longer stop myself
from feeling what I NEED TO FEEL!

3. With my new connection to my body, to my feelings I will now
listen to those feelins and act on their behalf.

4. if I was ever gonna tell anyone what to do, I would tell them
to listen to that little voice that knows. It will tell you when to mourn
and when to stop…Listen…

It’s a fine line, A line that that place in us that is perfect and
untouched by the pain, knows and knows where to draw it.

UGH!

Not only were my parents lacking as role models both
physically and spiritually speaking, but as I got older and more
aware about other religeons and philosophys, I found
a spiritual lack from my ‘God’ role models…

The idea that a God (Christ), seperate from me, sits in
judgement of my every movement lost its luster and its
credibility. As I explored various religeons I found New
Thought-type religeons (Unity, Agape, Rel. Science) had more
logic and sense for me than Christianity or Buddhism or Islam…

Religeous Science in particular gave me a God that I am not only part
of but an active participant in the creation of my world and future.
There was no more separation between me and The Universe and
no more waiting for Something else (God) to do my life for me.

I think that my recovery would not have been nearly as successful
if I had done the second step of “Came to believe that a power
greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity” and not later
taken control of my as a true representation of God on earth.

My point is that the old role model of a God in the sky directing
my life has been replaced by a healthy, well grounded, attached
to the Universe, happy, honest and powerful Me
(in conjunction with the Universe). I have replaced prayer
and hoping, with treatment and knowing.

Since my recovery I have had some great human/spiritual role models
true God-like human beings creating life and love. But now
my role model is me and truth and my connection to the Universe.

I used to think my lonliness, my isolation was ‘personal’
that ‘nobody’ wanted to be with me. I wondered what
was wrong with me that made people avoid me or
dislike me…I was alone all the time and I was taking it personal.

I think I am like a lot of people in this recovery in that we take
so much of this detached, cold, impersonal world…personally. For example:

My mom doesn’t call on thanksgiving, It’s something I did…
No one calls me to have dinner, cause I’m no fun…
I am alone, because I am defective-

But I found out (through a ton of trial and error)
that these people who I thought didn’t like me, are just as
confused as me. They weren’t ignoring me or
hating me but just wrapped up in their own lives, problems…issues.

I also found out that more of my mind, my soul was obsessed
with being alone and not being encroached upon. Be it a lover
or friends, I really didn’t want to be with anyone yet
I didn’t want to be alone.

This is and was my paradox, my cognitive dissonance.
I love aloneness and solitude but also want a lover, friends…

That’s what my therapy, my recovery is all about.
What I used to take personally, I was literally doing
to myself. It wasn’t them, it was my love for being alone
and my lack of skill at balancing my need for interaction
to my legitimate need to be alone. These two things
are compatible, but I didn’t know how to balance them.

This year I mad one of my good friends get me a turkey day
invite from a cool group of people to eat dinner thursday
and then I shoe-horned my way into another dinner on friday
for some people who worked on turkey day…

For me that is like a bonanza of social interaction!
Nothing personal to my friends who may think that I have been
pushy in the manner of my invites but I’m the only one that’ll
take care of me.

…nothing personal! Nothing is ever personal.

this is an exquisite time in our world where
change and health are being valued for the first
time in a long while.

People like you that make strong, definite decisions
and take chances are the ones that will come out ahead
no matter the results of their decisions or the path
that those decisions end up taking. It is the power
that courses through your veins, that pushes you into directions
of choice, that allows you the freedom of ‘attempt’
that makes you are perfect whole being.

No matter the outcome, it’s the experience, the NOW
that builds character. And girl, let me tell you,
you have more character and substance than 99% of the people
in this world. The rest of the world will strive to be
you and your strength, not the other way around.

so rejoice in the now and be proud (an uber-thankful)
that you have the gumption and strength to do what others would
shrink in fear from…

there is always another more proper perspective than the
ones that we wallow in…there is always another vantage point
that is more logical, more right.

You may be lonely, sad, and in need, but there is another perspective
that you can claim, another point of view that is the truth
and that usually resides in the now…
a view that is not depressing, a view that is content, happy
and loved…

find that and claim it-

I miss you!!!!

How many thanksgivings did you literally save me from being
so utterly alone that I…

you’d be so proud of me now and how I make sure I have plans and even
invite myself places…damn the torpedos

I missed you before this but for some reason, now-a-days,
I guess you are forever going to be associated with thanksgiving.

I will eat for you,
get fat for you,
get sleepy for you,
watch football for you,
make plans in your stead…

I you and turkey!

That toe-head’s
running again
from the loving
dad, too quick
and dashes
under branches past
slippery grass-
it is dusk
for the rest of their lives.

The brunette hides
naked in the garbage
pail, waiting
for the blonde boy and
fumes rise and sting
her eyes till she
cries – metal echoing
tears in tin cans.

Where do they go from here?
Are they pathetic
and small in a mirror
that shrinks in cold dew?

He stares
in the window
at his father watching
TV through a half eye.
The ground
is cold and sucks
the life from his bare
foot tears, tin can
garbage pail lives.

The smell isn’t so bad,
as bad as the waiting.
How long
will she shiver
against cold
metal and her mother
calls out.

He runs to her
backyard and strips
naked then climbs
into his own can.
They stare
at one another
under lids.

Of all the running
and crying
and garbage-
They’ll look
for their children only once.

A person or animal that functions as a substitute for another, as in a social or family role.

That’s me. I’m the surrogate guy (zombie). That’s where I feel comfortable, that’s the role I feel comfortable in. Gimme a girl that has a long distance boyfriend or a girl with an emotionally unavailable guy and I fit right in. It’s perfect for me cause I can have them, without them wanting anything from me. In my fake world where I am always being overwhelmed by people, being innundated by people, these relationships are what suits me.

See it goes back to my mom. She hated my dad and he hated her. They led separate lives only working together which drove them farther and farther apart. Now nature hates a vaccuum so before I could make a contrary decision, mom had already unconsciously slotted me in as her new hubby.

We used to do all kinds of fun things (nothing sexual cause this isn’t about sex, this is about roles and lonliness). Being that I was incredibly smart, she would unload all of her issues on me and like any good man, I would fix them - cept I was like 8 or 9. Pretty soon, I was comfortable being her therapist and being the man of the house. To the point that I would try to intervene bwteen her and my father’s drunken fights. The worst part was when they would reconcile for a few brief days - I never knew that jealousy and abandonment could get that high.

The closest and worst it got to being sexual was when I would come home as a teenager, late at night, and mom would be listening to her old 45s, dancing around and singing. She always wanted me to dance with her, she always had those eyes…even as a young teen I knew what they meant and felt like I was gonna crawl from my skin.

I’m 37 now and just starting to crawl out from under this weight. It has colored all my relationships since with massive feelings of abandonment, enmeshment, jealousy and morbid depression. A child should never be in a position to feel superior to their parents. A child should never be in a role that takes them from being the child and gives them the same repsonsibilities as the adults.

A child is a child. Let them stay that way.

And now I am not a surrogate. I refuse those types of relationship no matter how comfortable they feel.

I will only be the original, I will only be the principle.

Not sure why I’m not taken seriously
by the opposite sex. Happens quite
a bit or am I projecting?

Not sure what the truth is but I have
a feeling that it is still me, something
I do that makes that happen.

Not an easy thing to understand
cause we are usually the last to know
what others know, especially when
it comes to sensitive subjects.

I am a good guy with a ton to offer.
I take responsibility for my walls.
but that doesn’t make it any easier.

When little boys get no guidance they throw
rocks and make noise like banging pots, we blame
ruthless tyrants bent on total dominion, cherished
roles and coins with dirty pictures. I’m moist

my skin is dry, hot desert air dashes my beautiful
winter, scars draped by bullies, this isn’t how or why
just the loitering black shirts, wallet chain-ed
youth of the revolution - haggard, well-intentioned

and frozen in mid-stare. Mine is blackest, my chains
the rustiest and my aim true and sure rocky stoned batch
personel carrier. Dry rub the sand for my healthy skin
cause there’s never been a more glorious winter-

Next year we’re taking back our water, our winter.

2006

“No matter how much you do for some people, it never seems to be enough. That, of course, is because, secretly, they enjoy feeing dissatisfied. If you could actually manage to give them all they wanted, it would ruin their lives entirely! There is nothing wrong with an endless process. We should never feel that something must be completed before it has merit. Some of the greatest buildings (and symphonies) in the world are unfinished. It is though, time to end the charade that is going nowhere. ”

-unknown