The stuff I’m writing about is what pops up in my mind when I put pen to paper. Or finger to keyboard, I do it both ways. So it must need attention or that it’s time for me to re-look at something. When my 2nd marriage broke up I had completely lost my shit. I know I’ve mentioned this several times before but it was a phenomenal event. It’s been 10+ years and it seems like I’m able to look at it with some sense of distance, a certain lack of emotional upheaval to see it from a different perspective. It wasn’t just the marriage breaking up, it was the addition of Nicole to the mix, my state of sobriety, my role as a husband, dad, man that was all up in the air. Literally, it was all up in the ether with no anchor whatsoever. I’ve learned a lot since then. I’ve read a lot, written a lot, had lots of therapy, been to a million AA meetings, done a lot of 12 Step Work, meditation (on and off, mostly off), maintained friendships with some, let go of others etc. I have discovered some universal truths that have settled some local truths for me.
These truths ultimately deal with my psyche, with which wounded
soul that I have brought in and out of so many battles through my life. It hasn’t been a smooth transition. Grace
and forward progress has been a challenge. I’ve had to
rebuild literally from stone 1. A pebble
at a time. Part of that process was the
need to discover the meaning of my life.
My emotional, spiritual life. From which I’ve never had good luck in figuring out anyway. Christ, does anyone? It's the popular rage of the day I guess, but it has really walloped me since I've been in elementary school. What does it mean to have Chris on this
planet? What does it mean to be a man
named Chris? What kind of relationship am I supposed to be in
with somebody? And what am
I supposed to do or who am I supposed to be in that relationship? Since a kid I’ve always thought it was a natural
thing to have a girlfriend/wife. I’ve
now had 2 wives which on the surface signifies pretty IMPORTANT
RELATIONSHIPS. Each one was who what I thought
was my soul mate. Soul mate. Now there’s two words that have no basis for
survival in this world. What is a soul
mate anyway? Is it some psychological
tool to convince myself that I have actually picked the right person for my
partner? What is the right person? Arrghh!!! I’m getting too granular, the
normal spin of my brain is finding its way on this paper. This is my ADHD mind which I’ve grudgingly accepted as
my normal mind. And thank you for your
patience bearing that in mind.
So what I’ve learned is the role or alleged role of
masculinity rides shotgun in my head whether I’m conscious of it or not. A patriarchal state of mind part of which
demands control, territory, unreasonable demands for your time, an out of
control ego. I demand that the
projection of woman, as anima, as unconscious divine balance for the interior of my mind, is projected on
flesh and I expect that woman to act out as the queen of my inner mind. I blow away all chances of peace, of
happiness when I expect the unobtainable through a heady projection that I
barely understand that well myself. No
woman can play that role on a permanent basis.
The vacuum of love in my childhood set this up for my adulthood. Never having a proper role model and never
having put into words with either parent or any responsible adult, this is all
nether world stuff. It appears at the
edges of my conscious but never with any substance to pick at, to look at, and
to understand. If she’s friendly, says yes,
kisses me then I’m hooked. I’m convinced
I’ve found the one and I start planning immediately the path of our
future. It’s ridiculous I know.
No matter how old you are, you still plan the wedding, the
home, the pets (ugh, not dogs this time I hope). You digress back to the child getting the
first taste of unconditional love because you don’t know what it really feels
like so it must feel like this. You
mistake that flush for love and whatever world you’ve ascertained to love is
now all there in your hands. Never mind
you don’t have a clue as to your true role; that comes with the territory. It’s just supposed to happen. Basically I’m just a kid when it comes to
long term relationships. I’m romantic,
funny, intelligent all the good stuff on the outside, but when it comes to pure
sentimentality, true reason for our union, I couldn’t tell you with any words,
couldn’t put it into a rational mold that would hold up to any amount of time
or scrutiny.
I’ve since been diagnosed with Bipolar 1 and 2, Borderline
Personality Disorder and other mental illnesses. It is mental du jour; how you’re doing when
the psychiatrist gets ahold of you. I
don’t know how it has affected me but apparently it’s been on board for a long
time so I can say that it has been a monster eating up valuable relationships
at one point or another. I’ve been on their
meds since the 2nd marriage and am not sure how helpful that that
has been consistently. I don’t know what
was worse, the cure or the disease.
Regardless, I have the diagnosis and it’s a permanent rider on this
journey with me. With all the
discoveries I have been making I always have to make accommodations for it as
well. “Yes a table for 3, me, my dame
and my monster.” When I read the books
that talk about the psyche, the soul, there isn’t much for the addition of the
mental illness. In fact I have found
none. But it’s not like that’s
unacceptable because my whole life has been dominated by guesswork anyway. Sometimes I feel like I’m on the precipice
of understanding, I’m really getting it and never really see that little dot on
the horizon. The dot that gets bigger
when I put what I’ve learned into practice.
Then when an end comes, which they always do, I find that I’m crushed
under the train sized “dot” bleeding out questions, why’s, what happened this
time. I thought I figured it out. Maybe it’s just something you can’t figure
out. If that piece of the puzzle was
never in the box, (my pet peeve in the hospital), you can’t craft it out of
books and therapy. Especially with the
monster in your head, it just doesn’t want to enter. If it does, it’s only a quick inspection and
then whoosh, out the back door. Action
and events, reaction and events, that’s how my life runs. I doubt that this default will ever
change. I can put window dressing on it
and play pretty for a while, but the ugly truth is that the damage done is DNA
in my head today. This doesn’t mean I
will quit trying, far from it. Next time
I will do more, I will do all that I can to keep the monster preoccupied while
I think. Yes think, not guess. I’ll make plans that go no further than the
day at hand. I’ll discover that happiness is what is happening and not a future
event to detail. I’ll keep the faith in
my angels, that their grace will be all that I need and that they know the
happiness I’ll grow too will be in my future.
1.
I’m
grateful for my bipolar, that it is in essence, my super power.
2.
I’m
grateful for my guardian angels, Treater and Axe, they never relent in their
care for me.
3.
I’m grateful
that I always try.
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