Not where it began, but where it ended:


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Ron,

That emotion of fear has got to be one of the worst for survivors, and I bet we all recall it's terrible impact on us when we were abused as boys. I remember fear becoming just an ordinary part of how things were - afraid all the time.

There's a poem in the archive that sums it up and I fished it out. You may recall seeing it when it was first posted by James/Jokersloose some years ago:


Fear

I sit and wonder why
I sit and wonder who
I sit and just wonder
I feel it swell in me
The fear
My friend
My companion
The only thing I can trust
It never leaves me
It never lies to me
The only thing that has always been there
It has to be my friend
My trusted friend
The only thing I could tell everything too
The only one that has never told on me
The only one that has never broke my trust
“I’m your friend” it says
“we will always be together”
“I’m the only one that really loves you”
“I will never leave you”
“ We will be together forever”
“I will never leave you”
Fear
My friend, companion, my trusted ear to talk to
How would I live without you
I would be alone
Totally alone
I wouldn’t have anyone without you
How could I ask you to leave?
You were the one that comforted me
All those nights
All those tears
All the pain
All the shame
You were always there for me
Even the times I didn’t know your were there
You carried me through
You are my only true friend

Much love,
Larry

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Ron:

I used to carry the fear all over with me. I tried so hard to hide it. I used to wear my black leather security blanket everywhere I went, plus my attitude said F___ YOU all over my face. It isn't any wonder that I wasn't offered too many good jobs for a number of years. It took many years to leave my fears behind.

Remember the old hill on US40 coming into Uniontown? I had to go that way once in 1979 with a load of flammable paint. At the top of the hill was a big red sign that said how many people had been killed on that hill. 4 miles of 10% grade, with two runaway ramps that looked like farm paths up into the trees, then it was half a dozen stoplights down a steep hill with parallel-parked cars and 100 year-old buildings right up on the sidewalk. And to make matters worse, the brakes were getting mushy. There was no place to pull off for safety. I had 4,400 gallons of flammable white runway paint.

I don't know why, but all of the lights were green, and nobody opened their door or was trying to back in to a parking spot. I made it look good even though I was scared to death. All of that being in public over many years sure helped to fix that fear thing. Along with my nearly 5 years in therapy. These days I go into a public restroom and half the guys in there quickly look at the floor and scurry out of the way. First impressions are important, and if you look and act like you mean business, it will go a lot better for you.

Walk with confidence. Make eye contact. Make them look away first. And just when they look down throw them completely off guard and say something nice in a deep booming voice. That is my time-honored tradition for public contact. You wouldn't believe how many people have fallen for that one.

TM

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Relearning old destructive behaviors is something that we all have to work on. Once you start 'acting as if' and you begin to believe in yourself, it no longer is an just an act, it does become a part of you.

I spent too much of my life acting as if nothing happened and I felt broken; then I started therapy at 50. Now I know that what happened was not my fault, that I am a whole person and I started acting more confidently in my life. Now I am more confident in my life.

Take good care of yourself, you're the only you that you've got.

Steve

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Ron:

Some of that is aging, some of it is progress in recovery. Some of it might be ADD. I loose my keys almost everyday even though I almost always put them in the same place. I live in a 2,400 sq. ft. house that is hardly big enough for all of the stuff. Imagine trying to find your keys in there.

Many years ago I used a visual trick, to get me from the point where I was almost too frightened to hold eye contact with anyone, to the point where I didn't need it anymore. It used to feel like other people's eyes were burning a hole in my brain. That is a dead giveaway, unfortunately, when you can't hold eye contact.

I trained myself to quickly focus on a spot 10 to 20 feet or more behind the person. It would only take a second to look away and then re-focus to a greater depth. When you look back they look really blurry and they will never know either. That worked for about 15 years until I was about age 30.

A had a drink tonight with dinner. Good vodka with a mixer. but it was my first drink in 6 days, when I last went out to eat last weekend. And when we left, there was still an inch left in the bottom. It is a huge amount of improvement since the excessive days of hard drugs, slamming lots of alcohol, and driving home all messed-up.

Anyhow, try what I said with eye contact. There is an old AA saying: "Fake it til you make it". It is so true.

TM

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Ron:

That has been one of the hardest things to accept in my recovery is that it is a life long process that will never end. I have learned that I will become healthier in one area of my recovery such as with using drugs and alcohol. And things will be real good for awhile. Then I will become aware of other areas in my life that I am not functioning well in. So I have to address this area and learn to become more mature in this area of life. But I believe that is what is called life and everybody goes throught it. For along time I choose to to stay in my dis-ease because I was afraid of change or being totally honest with myself about my own behaviors. What happened in the past was not my fault because I was a child who should have been protected and not abused by the adults in my life. But my behaviors and choices that I make today good or bad our my responsibly.

one day at a time
Mike

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Ron:

Hope that your new group goes well. Let us know how it went. Hope that you can find your keys and your wallet too. It took me 15 minutes this morning to find both when I had a deadline looming. A couple of days ago it took me two days to find my ring of house keys on the floor of my wife's car.

It is not so bad though. One big mall in Cleveland once released some security video of some people who had lost their cars in the parking lot. All eight sides of the mall looked substantially the same from the outside. Some of these people had to walk sideways around the parking lot for over an hour just to find their cars.

Hope that it works out for you, my man.

Mark

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Maybe if I had a keychain like that it would make it easier to find my keys when it is time to go.

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I would call it progress. I might be turning into Taoism's version of a bible thumper sort of, but I just have to quote this:

He who stands on tiptoe is not steady.
He who strides cannot maintain the pace.
(from the Tao Te Ching)


Sometimes having to take things easy or even indulge in a little vice now and then (I smoke herb too) is giving ourselves the slack we need to keep going where if we were to expect perfection of ourselves we might end up coming apart from our own expectations of ourselves.

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First we try to share all that we have learned so that others don't have to repeat our mistakes, hard lessons, or misfortunes, then we have to decide whether to take Social Security at the age of 62, 66, or 70, and in which direction the rest of our our life is going to take us.

Good luck on the rest of your journey no matter which direction you decide to turn.

Mark

Ron,

I have read many of your posts in the last days and while we travel on different roads we travel just the same. This thread has inspired me to stop amidst the chaos and stress of my current life and reflect inwards to determine what steps of recovery need to heard. Your entry on fear has struck a chord deep within, I feel called to action and to listen to the fears. On this day I connected with a post in a way I so deperately wanted. All I can say is thank you for this. your journey has brought you to a place of limitless possibilities and I too know this can be achieved.

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Hey buddy,

Yup. For me too. If it was not for that darn fear. You know this whole recovery thing would be a heck of a lot easier without it. Fear is like a cancer that eats away at you, saps your resources and eventually chokes the life out of you, or you want it to at some point.

I don't know about you but I always have found the boogeyman easier to face with someone then alone. We have a lot of guys and gals along side us, its time to go give that guy what is coming to him. I got your back.

Peace my friend.
Shaun

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I just read all your posts on page 4 and it is so wierd that just today I tried to tell my story and then after a pathetic attempt I read your info on the book that fits my childhood and family to a T. The conditional love learned at an early age in my family. Always anger, fear, worry, punishment, verbal abuse, etc.... Plus the violent nature of my childhood in Shreveport, LA with all the racial violence ( shame I had/have many friends of all races ) in the streets and school plus my family's relationship with organized crime which was forced upon us ( due to my dad's actions-long story). God those guys dressed good, they were old school and funny but they were "men of respect" in a way. But my parents to this day will not even mention it or admit we had ties, just like my abuse you just pretend it did not happen and it will go away.
But the need for love and acceptance by someone, anyone or thing. Having a dog is the closest thing I have ever known to unconditional love. Thank you for your informative posts.

Hi my brothers (fraternal).

Wow sans, sort of fits me to a T.

I posted my 1st year of recovery, and I sure have found out more about just who I was to become, in the last year than the previous 69.

Great writing my fraternal brother.

"I will take that lost boys hand, and I will lead him from the depths of darkness, into the sunshine, forever into eternity".

Heal well.

little Pete & big Pete. but 1 (Irishmoose)

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Ron,

What a powerful post. I really think it is great for you to share this. Congratulations on this view and progress. I find it inspiring and liberating.

I liked your comparison to the Israilites and their journey. All the places they travelled were necessary. But never intended to be their home. I would like to embrace that idea. Healing is our intended home. The rest are just the pit stops to get there. Big hug to you for sharing this. I wish you the best in this.


Daryl

Want a real rush....why don't you try the rollercoasters over at Kennywood Park??? Try the very back seat on the Thunderbolt or their new coaster that replaced the Steel Phantom??? I have done both in my life. Or maybe take flying lessons??? I've landed a Cessna 172 at your Allegheny County Airport before too, along with the Port Meadville Airport, the Wheeling Airport, and the Jamestown, NY Airport too. Once you get your license you could fly up in your little Cessna east of Toronto to visit Geeders and be home in time for supper!!! In a 2 & 1/2 hour period in a Cessna 172, I flew from Cleveland's Burke Lakefront airport over the north side of Pittsburgh, then all the way down to Seven Springs, then turned north and flew to Jamestown, NY where we stopped for a soda, then flew back to Burke. Recreational flying is a bit of an expensive hobby, but you can also widen your view of your world and meet lots of new people too.

Nothing like a good clean rush. Flaps 10 degrees, "Cessna 37 Lima, cleared for takeoff, runway 6 right, comes the voice through the speaker. You push the throttle forward then pull out onto the active runway, straighten-out, and then push the throttle all of the way forward. Steering with your rudder pedals and using the yoke to ward off a bit of a choppy crosswind, you accelerate down the runway and at 70 knots you pull the yoke back and your off and climbing away at 75 knots, as the ground falls away below you. It's a great feeling though you do hold your life and the lives of your passengers in your hands. The only thing more exciting is the landing approach and eventual touchdown. Imagine flying to Oshawa, Ontario in less than 2 hours from Allegheny County? Maybe a quiet weekend getaway at a lake cabin up in Ontario? Fly up Friday after work and fly home Sunday afternoon?

Riding the Thunderbolt is a whole lot less expensive, but you can't beat the rush of recreational flying.

Just a suggestion,

Mark

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it's not easy. i have lost motivation and impetus to propel me forward into the new day. a bit stuck in the molasses of transitional spaces. wrote a poem the other day while spending time away from the interference of visual media:

how. could. you?
how could you leave me
alone at the door
in the cold
with the rain
pelting down my back?

how. could. you?

how could you?
how could you leave me like that
in a nest
of relentless
suffocating
dark devices

wondering

where were you?
i pounded and pawed
scratched and i clawed
for you to come
but my pleas
pregnant with hope
dashed in slow motion
to the ground
as the sinking revelation
overtook me
like an unwitnessed death
this terrible truth

there was no you

i was alone

how could you?

how.

could.

you?

in the trance of this poem, i was empathizing with my brother in law's dog who loves to yelp and whine when she wants let into the house. my trance made me identify with her feelings of abandonment, and i realized as i was writing the poem that it was being written to several people: my mother, first.

i wrote it to my mother to express the sense of abandonment felt as a young child ron. ron the infant and ron the toddler. stuck in a playpen, an unengaged and passive watcher. wanting desperately to be let out, to join in the fun and festivities with her and my older brother. but nope, i was just left there to witness the blossoming relationship between my mother and my older brother, my perp. yea, i imagined myself inside the brain of that dog and i could definitely relate.

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kay suggested i write about the 'c' word.... you know...... control.

i've been scratching my head and drumming my fingers all week about this, and finding it difficult to begin to talk about it. hmmmm...... where to begin .... where to begin ... where to begin.....

maybe with a definition? 1. To exercise authoritative or dominating influence over.

that conjures up a feeling reaction similar to being grabbed violently by the arm and either being forced to perform a behavior, or being restrained from some action. force and restraint; rigidity and no room for compromise or flexibility.

from one perspective, the element of control contains a capacity for contrasting characterizations. one, resulting in force and rigidity, and the other aspect, more cooperative and conjoining.

actually i prefer the gentler implications of the word: conduct: 1. To guide the course of; manage or direct.

however in this context, it appears control, in one sense, is about a dominant force exercising power over a weaker, more submissive object/subject. so there's the inroad for my discussion on 'control'. how did control impact my life, with me being the weaker force having power exerted upon me by a stronger force? how and why did i develop coping strategies in reaction to the experience of being encroached upon as a victim of someone's control pressure, the exertion of their will over me as a dominating force? did i fight, freeze or flee?

looking back into the origins of my life, where patterns of response and reactivity would have had their genesis, i can clearly see how the mode of response would have been 'freeze', for me. the first perceived encroaching force would have been that of my parental figures who would enforce their wishes upon me, and who would use force as a regulating mechanism in order to get me to adjust to their behavioral expectations.

prior to language, sensory impressions registered as an overload of sight, hearing, touch: big, looming, punishing, angry, threatening forms, emitting their scary powerful energy at me, tense facial expressions, violent physical contact, loud words with clicking consonants spit out, their volatile energy resonating against the target of my soul. barking out do's and don't's; orders and warnings of consequence: do, or die. nothing tender in contrast to balance or neutralize the impact of the fierce,fearsome temperamental energy thrust upon me.

no options, but to conform. no way out. nowhere to run to escape the raging storm of 'influence'. a helpless dependent infant creature, powerless to do anything but to conform to the demands of the powerful force overseeing my life. what would such an infant creature do? how would such an infanct creature defend itself against such affront? it could not escape [no legs yet]. where would it go even if there was an option for egress? no, there was no way out. all the infant creature could do, was abandon its own need set, and replace it with conformity to that of powerful overlords. it would become scared silent, and rendered impotent to express its own life force. eventually, it would have worn the yoke of suppression for so long, that it would forget it ever had a choice to begin with.

its power had never been recognized, nurtured, and honored; never encouraged; but rather, was stripped; replaced and supplanted with the will of the 'governers' of the system in which it had been born and bred: a system of rewards and consequences.

even before language develops as a means of communication, the creature learns not to touch that hot oven, or bear the consequences. if it is docile enough, it learns very quickly, that to insist on having its needs met is suicide. so, out of fear of being punished and/or deserted, in order to protect itself, and advance its own survival, it yields and ultimately surrenders to the power of force, which establishes, shapes, enforces and reinforces and conforms its patterns of relating to power systems that demand adherence, or risk rejection, abandonment and obliteration. it is rendered devoid of its own power.

then....the child turns two. all that in perhaps less than 700 days of reinforced treatment. thus describes the situation of a life born and groomed in the factory of such a controlling governance.

and so, the stage is set for repeating lifelong patterns of self abandonment, retreat from aggression, avoidance, and isolation. curiosity is strangled; creativity crushed. the creature becomes an automaton taking it cues for survival from powers that would control and curtail its highest expectations and deepest aspiration: to be and to become a person, fully human and alive.

my head hurts now ..... to be continued...

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Hi, my fraternal brother.

Yep! belonging, i tried my best to always be accepted by others (belonging), to a person or a group, or whatever.

I belonged, in the Air Force. I belonged with my brothers in arms, as for there i knew i would not ever be abandoned, never.

When I retired from the Air Force, i had the feelings of abandonment.
I felt like i was abandoned, as i no longer belonged to anything.
All of a sudden you are Mr. Nobody, you are nothing, and once again you had to start over.

But to belong again, at first you had to be accepted. And for us sexually abused boys, now men. It is a very difficult task indeed.

So, once again I am in a place where i belong.
I was accepted into a group of boys, now men. I was accepted by my peers.
I finally found a place where i really belonged.I came as a stranger. And I found a group of brothers, who were just like me. We share our fears. We share our inner most SECRETS. We share our pain & sorrow. We share our guilt & shame, for things that we were not responsible for. We share our tears.

Be it right here in this web site, or those wonderful Weekends of Recoveries, i have found a place where i BELONG.
I have a piece of my brothers souls in mine. I consider them my fraternal family.

I will not be abandoned, because this is where i BELONG.

Hope that this made some sense.

Heal well my brothers, heal well.

Little Pete & big Pete..but 1 (Irishmoose).

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