I chaired a meeting yesterday morning at North Hall. It’s the LGBT meeting for Sacramento. I don’t know why you needed to know
that. You need to know that it’s the
first time that I’ve been there. It wasn’t
too bad, about 13 or 14 people. Of
course I don’t have a spiel lined up other than I wanted to talk about
happiness. How my life has been shaped
by happiness, the lack thereof, the pursuit, the moments that I mistook for
happiness etc. I started by mentioning
my mom’s lack of happiness and how it affected my pursuit of happiness. You see if she wasn’t happy, she took it out
on us. In me it created a need to affect
my mom so she was always happy. OH what
a responsibility to be in charge of keeping mom happy. Nothing was predictable so she could go off
in any moment and for any reason. It’s
hard to keep control of the uncontrollable.
And there are no perks for this job, I would get beaten with the coffee
cord if my plans were really waylaid.
And then restricted to limited air space (i.e. restriction) was the
other punishment. The shit never really
stopped. So initially my happiness was
regulated by the amount of beatings I did not receive. Or the fact that I wasn’t on
restriction. When I was a good boy.
The false sense of security of being a good boy was my fool’s
paradise. But the practice of being
happy during those moments gave me a bit of insight that happiness did not have
to be something wild and amusement park ridey to experience. It just had to be free from pain. The pain I experienced was internal more that
external. You see if I couldn’t make my
mom happy I experienced fear, uneasiness and anxiety about the surreal nature
of her next time going off like a volcano.
Combined with my ADHD like tendencies I acted a lot of my anxiety
out. Plus I was the sensitive child in
the family. Not a lot of qualities you
need to be muscle of a very out of control situation. Moments that I was supposed to be happy, opening
presents at Christmas or birthday, was tense and so untrue to my nature. I couldn’t act disappointed if I got a stick
of something similar. I always had to
act happy. I was a happy whore. But it completely took me out of myself. It distorted so much the person I was
supposed to be that I didn’t know who I was ever. Seeing my friends were a brief respite from
the daily torture of being around such a creature. But I would do whatever they wanted to do I
was so washed out on what I wanted to do and be. Therefore trouble generated trouble. And nothing irritates the Warhorse than
trouble with the children. “Bring out
the implements of torture, this one has to be taught a lesson!” And so it went.
When I was a teenager we moved to Germany. A new start?
Well new friends anyway. I developed
a cultish friendship with my friends and we would do anything to be happy. We could go to bars as Germany didn’t have a
law on minimum age. So bar hopping we
went. And restrictions added up. And on and on and on. Then I discovered hashish, shit, the best
stuff ever. One hit from a chillum and I
was mega high and I didn’t think about anything. It was the perfect elixir and I partook in it
every day for a year and a half until I went back to the states. It was a bliss beyond happiness. I would take a hit, hold my nose because I
would invariably cough and I didn’t want to lose the smoke so soon. The inside of my ear drums would take a
beating but I didn’t care. The high at
the other end of the match was so worth it.
The state of happiness was suspended with a feeling of mirth and
uncaring daring. I was an even match
with all of my friends, Germans, GI’s, civilians and fellow dependents. It didn’t matter who I was with, I felt
equal. Something I hadn’t felt
independently for a long time. Of course
it was on a path that I couldn’t pursue 24 hours a day but I would if I could
and I sure as shit tried. There were no
more restrictions at this point because I would just laugh and leave whenever I
wanted. My parents even ran away because
I wouldn’t. There was a time over there
when I was living the life of an adult (who had full run on his parent’s
house). I really thought I was living
the life. At least a life like no other
teenager in the US could be living. It
was pretty intense at times getting and staying high over there. It wasn’t a party it was on organic thing,
you had to nurture it to stay alive. Sometimes
I miss the passion I had when I was living that dream. But all dreams end and I had to go back to
the states. A huge stain on my
happiness. It was a bummer times 100
leaving Deutschland for Maine, USA.
It was so long ago when I lived that life but it was a
coming of age and it was an age that I didn’t want to come to or have end. Happiness manufactured by me for my mental
mom or happiness created by drugs for me.
It didn’t seem to manifest in any organic way, just by external crazy
events. I created a template for the
rest of my adult life to follow and didn’t realize the damage I was creating. I felt that only outside stimulus could
create happiness and that nothing I did would create that much value of
happy. I gave up trying unless it was
booze or drugs. You can’t find peace of
mind when you’re high or trying to get high.
You can provide a vehicle for someone’s temporary happiness but you can’t
be the main line for anybody. It’s just
not feasible or believable. Or
real. My mom didn’t inspire any
happiness inside of me and I’m sure it would have been simpler and more
valuable if it came from her end rather than mine. But it didn’t and I had to deal with the
cards I was dealt. I continued my
pursuit of getting high for 10 years after high school and lost a lot of
traction growing up. I made decisions
that affect my life today. Like not staying
in college. I just couldn’t do it, it
was interfering with my happiness. I
couldn’t be that responsible. There was
no one in my corner rooting for me, pushing me and even willing me to do
it. I had to come up with that stuff all
by myself and I just didn’t have the wiring for it at the time. Maybe now I do but I have to fight with
senior citizen status now and am not sure it’s the thing for me to do at this
age. But I have found happiness in other
things these past decades. None more
pure that when I recognize the moment’s sublime are the moments of
happiness. When nothing is going on, no
drama, no induced high, nothing and I feel comfortable, I feel stable, I feel
happy.
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