Swifty phiphty niner

Rebuilding myself through Zen, therapy, sponsorship, DBT and willingness to do it.   There are days when the overwhelmingness fatigues me to the point of endless irritability.   Then there are days of non-stop gratitude for the distance I’ve covered and energy I have for the rest of the trip.   Where did the passion come from this time?   I don’t have a woman to impress.   Well I just don’t have a woman. J   That’s growth right there.   “Don’t have a woman!”   Even Firestone doesn’t contact me anymore.   I would hear from her on my birthday but now after 29 years, no sir.   I offer or cough up a little controversy and I’m out the door.   A little moxie goes a long way.   So what about that?   My long standing unease of being manipulated into taking Trojan via dad proxy has turned into something untouchable.   I’m not a dog person.   Tried to do it.   You know like trying marriage because it’s the righ...

My therapist has introduced the theory to me of the inner child.   I have to say that as long as I’ve heard of this I didn’t give it much credence.   After several sessions though a light began to glimmer and it started making sense.   Especially when she told me it’s not just one inner child, it’s a bus load of them.   “But you’re not unique in that Pher!”   Knowing me, that was key to say.   When a familiar feeling arises that resonates with one of my “children”, that voice is the one that leads the pack.   Rage for instance, can rally the troops and all in unison they’ll abdicate their place and the screaming eventually finds its way out of my mouth and out into the real world.   Results vary but mostly on the poor scale.   The melancholy child sets off an entirely different rumbling throughout the bus.   He broods and the whole gang starts dragging.   The chain reaction activates the depression child and then the droopy voice ...