Poop Floats
I'm hanging around, packing for the trip, and I feel my anxieties creeping back in. They are so hypnotic, so troubling, a constant state of disaster/distress. I've kept things from really blowing up, and I can't talk about my obsessions in detail here, but suffice to say THEY SUCK.
I see my therapist today for the first time in three weeks because of vacations, and I'm looking forward to it. No doubt, much of the time I was away was good, some hard but some of it very good, and I've felt more hope this summer than ever because of the new kind of therapy I started doing in March. But just when I think it's safe to go back in the water...kind of like that. I've come so far, and what I want is a normal life and marriage, though I admit I'm not sure what normal means. Certainly my obsessions/anxieties are not normal, or healthy.
S and I have actually been getting along well lately. I've finally realized anger is okay. Fights and conflict are okay. I used to cringe when she was upset, obsess about her mood, and while I still struggle, I'm more my own person and present my own point of view better than I ever have. And we've had some out and out arguments lately, where we were both clearly angry, and the sky didn't crash down, she didn't pack up and bail; I could tell she was hearing my side. My own father could never get angry, never stick up for himself, did whatever my mother or stepmother wanted or he thought they wanted. It was terrible to watch, like the scene in Rebel Without a Cause where the dad is wearing the apron, picking up the broken dishes, telling his son to be quiet so he doesn't disturb the mother. Yeah, that was dad, only worse. And all the while my mother berated him for his weakness.
So I never learned that I could express my anger or even discomfort. I'd hold it in and then blow up as a young guy (as a really young guy, a teenager, I was in complete denial I had any pain or anger at all); since meeting Steph, I've held it in more, or tried to release it constructively outside the relationship. I think IO do this largely because of how my first marriage ended: my therapist (and oh, wait till I get the guts to tell this story) was pushing me to express my anger, and that expression, which was never abusive (contrary to rumor; if I'd ever laid a finger on her I'd confess it here) was one of the things which drove my first wife away, or at least so she said. Freak show, freak shows all around, step right up. So the next time I had a serious thing I kept my mouth shut, tried to work out things that irritate me on my own.
That's fine, but there's something about an out and out conflict, where both sides are really laying out their perspectives and blowing off steam, that actually seems to bring me closer to my wife (after a cooling off period of course). Maybe fights like that aren't ideal, and they don't happen very often for us, but it's better than just sucking it up and feeling like a scared, resentful victim.
I remember hearing that verse, don't let the sun go down on your anger, and thinking, man, I just can't do that, I wish I could, only she'll get angry too, we'll fight, and conflict terrifies me. My brother and his wife would have these small, and very civil, disagreements while driving some place when S and I were visiting them, and I'd be freaking out in the back seat waiting for the planet to implode. For someone to start screaming at the top of their lungs and banging their head against the dash (excuse the pl prounouns English types). Why? I don't know. I do know both my parents had trouble with rage, and were abusive verbally (especially my mother)and at times physically. There I said it. Neither of them will ever read this. That's why I have no last name, no city I live in, on the blog. Google could bring me up in .32 seconds.
So all this is good, but challenges remain. I think I'm one of those people who just doesn't quit, who has long looked at life as a process toward contentment. "Slightly less difficult times ahead" as the slogan says. I knew how long it took me to get through my depressions, and when challenges arose early on for S and I (eight years we've been together now) I assumed my relationship would be the same; it would get to where I wanted it to be over time. This seems to be true, but sometimes I lose my assurance. The fact is she's a special person, wholesome at the core, honest, loyal, smart. Not perfect, but nevertheless amazing, and surely the woman I love.
Maybe I'm wigged about going down south. I often get triggered being back in long beach, smelling the sea, driving down the same streets where so much of my history went down. Lots of painful memories. But going seems to get easier each time. And it was my dad's birthday this weekend and I need to call him. That's usually tough also. Like talking to a vacant lot who is still astonishingly fragile: can't make a mistake in anything I say. Shit. No wonder I didn't talk to him for twenty years.
Whatever, I appreciate the support of this board. I'll fill you all in on return.
In Christ's hope,
t
I see my therapist today for the first time in three weeks because of vacations, and I'm looking forward to it. No doubt, much of the time I was away was good, some hard but some of it very good, and I've felt more hope this summer than ever because of the new kind of therapy I started doing in March. But just when I think it's safe to go back in the water...kind of like that. I've come so far, and what I want is a normal life and marriage, though I admit I'm not sure what normal means. Certainly my obsessions/anxieties are not normal, or healthy.
S and I have actually been getting along well lately. I've finally realized anger is okay. Fights and conflict are okay. I used to cringe when she was upset, obsess about her mood, and while I still struggle, I'm more my own person and present my own point of view better than I ever have. And we've had some out and out arguments lately, where we were both clearly angry, and the sky didn't crash down, she didn't pack up and bail; I could tell she was hearing my side. My own father could never get angry, never stick up for himself, did whatever my mother or stepmother wanted or he thought they wanted. It was terrible to watch, like the scene in Rebel Without a Cause where the dad is wearing the apron, picking up the broken dishes, telling his son to be quiet so he doesn't disturb the mother. Yeah, that was dad, only worse. And all the while my mother berated him for his weakness.
So I never learned that I could express my anger or even discomfort. I'd hold it in and then blow up as a young guy (as a really young guy, a teenager, I was in complete denial I had any pain or anger at all); since meeting Steph, I've held it in more, or tried to release it constructively outside the relationship. I think IO do this largely because of how my first marriage ended: my therapist (and oh, wait till I get the guts to tell this story) was pushing me to express my anger, and that expression, which was never abusive (contrary to rumor; if I'd ever laid a finger on her I'd confess it here) was one of the things which drove my first wife away, or at least so she said. Freak show, freak shows all around, step right up. So the next time I had a serious thing I kept my mouth shut, tried to work out things that irritate me on my own.
That's fine, but there's something about an out and out conflict, where both sides are really laying out their perspectives and blowing off steam, that actually seems to bring me closer to my wife (after a cooling off period of course). Maybe fights like that aren't ideal, and they don't happen very often for us, but it's better than just sucking it up and feeling like a scared, resentful victim.
I remember hearing that verse, don't let the sun go down on your anger, and thinking, man, I just can't do that, I wish I could, only she'll get angry too, we'll fight, and conflict terrifies me. My brother and his wife would have these small, and very civil, disagreements while driving some place when S and I were visiting them, and I'd be freaking out in the back seat waiting for the planet to implode. For someone to start screaming at the top of their lungs and banging their head against the dash (excuse the pl prounouns English types). Why? I don't know. I do know both my parents had trouble with rage, and were abusive verbally (especially my mother)and at times physically. There I said it. Neither of them will ever read this. That's why I have no last name, no city I live in, on the blog. Google could bring me up in .32 seconds.
So all this is good, but challenges remain. I think I'm one of those people who just doesn't quit, who has long looked at life as a process toward contentment. "Slightly less difficult times ahead" as the slogan says. I knew how long it took me to get through my depressions, and when challenges arose early on for S and I (eight years we've been together now) I assumed my relationship would be the same; it would get to where I wanted it to be over time. This seems to be true, but sometimes I lose my assurance. The fact is she's a special person, wholesome at the core, honest, loyal, smart. Not perfect, but nevertheless amazing, and surely the woman I love.
Maybe I'm wigged about going down south. I often get triggered being back in long beach, smelling the sea, driving down the same streets where so much of my history went down. Lots of painful memories. But going seems to get easier each time. And it was my dad's birthday this weekend and I need to call him. That's usually tough also. Like talking to a vacant lot who is still astonishingly fragile: can't make a mistake in anything I say. Shit. No wonder I didn't talk to him for twenty years.
Whatever, I appreciate the support of this board. I'll fill you all in on return.
In Christ's hope,
t
Comments
Again, your raw honestly blows me away!
I so admire your ability to draw out your feelings and balance them by the forward progression of your intellect. Categorically, in your posts, you face the 'poop' but affirm your hope in Christ, in growth, in loving people despite their faults. (I see hope woven through every post - particularly your Christianity from the Outside.)
And I know I've said it before, but your honesty balanced with your faith in Jesus will help someone around you (a student? friend? someone at church?) who is facing a similar situation look and say, "Wow I'm not the only one going through this. And if Troy can face it, deal with it, not let it have power over him, and not break his belief in Jesus [because He is able to withstand our questions and doubts and blunt challenges]...maybe there's a chance for me.".
You're "working out your salvation with fear and trembling." (I'm not really clear on the true context of that verse, but it has always impressed me as the call to dig deep, ask questions, work through the poop, etc.
Poop floats, true...but that only makes it easier to flush out. -- KMJ
K - the flush comment was a kicker!