Several days ago, I was talking with a good friend, about whom I have a wealth of respect, who said, in his observations about my most previous blog ["A Dark Night of the Soul"] "Why do you keep dwelling on the past? Why not leave it alone and move forward?" I mention this, not in any way to insult his comment [I've always appreciated his interest in my writings], but to note that it is the kind of comment that has often been made by others whose personal experience does not include post-traumatic stress disorder [PTSD].
For survivors of profound trauma, they would be quite overjoyed IF 'the past' could be 'in the past'. That would be of great benefit in their healing and moving forward toward a more positive emotional life.
Were it only possible….
Unfortunately, for myself and other survivors of incest, child abuse, torture, warfare, violent assault, traffic accidents, or other equally devastating life experiences, the past is too often quite 'current', in that it keeps inserting itself into our present reality. And, just as often, even if we have sufficiently worked through the trauma and know that the current situation isn't unsafe, it can feel unsafe due to 'body memories' which arise quite beyond the control or regulation of our conscious mind.
Memories of the Past Relived in the Present
In the manner that I write my blogs -- using my own experiences to point out general themes which also affect other survivors of profound trauma -- I want to give a couple of examples of this phenomenon.
> When I was 36, recovering from a nervous breakdown that quite devastated my world for about 9 months, I was in the grocery store one day, going through the check-out line. I was suddenly 'out-of-the-blue' hit with an intense panic attack, which I realized was related to 'escape'. And so I consciously said to myself "You're not 3 years old. You're not being cornered by your father and beaten senseless. You're 36, you can defend yourself, if anyone attacks you -- which, being a 6'8" man is unlikely -- you can take care of the situation." In other words, I had to quite consciously allow myself to overcome the terrifying 'body memory' of my childhood incest and torture, and know that THAT memory was THE PAST, not the present reality. And that was sufficient to allow me to finish the check-out process, pay the bill and leave the store without shaking like a leaf.
> In recent years, I have become more and more hypersensitive to materials and foods, in a manner that is greatly compromising my ability to live my life to its fullest. Items such as those, which seem to not affect others around me in quite the same negative way, sometimes simply 'blow me out of the water' and trash my physical and emotional equilibrium for several hours.
Before I go any further with this example, let me note that I'm only too aware of similar 'odd reactions', to certain materials, which have plagued me in recent years. But I had no particular reason to assume that that would be the case this time.
Several days ago, I had to get myself a new belt, as the one I had been using was 'shredding out' and falling apart. I went to Target, bought a black belt, and took it home. I put on the belt and started driving over to Jazz at the Bistro, where I was scheduled to usher. Within 5 minutes, my stomach started to severely cramp and within 10 minutes my throat started to feel like it was closing off, like I was suffocating. I commented to Linda, my intimate partner, who was in the SUV with me, that hopefully I was only having a 'fear of a possible fear reaction to a new material', that this was purely psychosomatic and not organic. But quickly enough, I realized that was not an accurate interpretation, and I pulled the belt off (I had brought my old belt with me, just in case). But the sickness didn't go away; if anything it only got worse. At dinner, I started feeling quite nauseous; by the time I arrived at The Bistro, I was feeling distinctly dissociated.
At that point, I consciously said, to myself, "There is nothing here at The Bistro for you to fear. No one is going to attack you. You're in a safe environment." But, frankly, it's didn't help much. The 'body memory' of my childhood terror -- which never has quite left my memory, in spite of 30 years of therapy -- simply swarmed over me and made me profoundly uncomfortable. While waiting for the patrons to arrive, I tried reading -- that made me ill. I tried talking to the staff -- that made me ill. I tried turning away from looking at the patrons, intentionally 'zoning out', but that didn't help much. It took every bit of my mental focus to keep calm and to appear calm (which I apparently succeeded in doing - Linda said later I appeared quite calm).
Eventually the 'feeling of terror' did subside, though it took about 2 1/2 hours after I had taken off the belt before I felt 'stable' and 'normal' again. And it took another 24 hours for the 'short-circuiting' of my body to calm down.
The Past Is Only Too Current For Trauma Survivors
For trauma survivors, the intensity of a reaction to a specific situation depends on the severity and longevity of the original trauma. If it was a one-time event, of limited duration, therapies such as EMDR are sufficient to overcome the disruption of emotional stability. But if the trauma occurred over many, many years and was combined with a complete lack of safe outlets to 'bleed off' the terror (as was true in my life and is often the reality for many other male and female survivors of childhood abuse, incest and torture), then the memory of the trauma is locked in the mind in a manner that makes it incredibly difficult to forget and 'move forward' with ones life.
Often, when I'm describing my experience with trauma-related symptoms and outcomes, people with whom I talking will say "Oh, you're being 'grandiose'. Terror? You really don't/can't mean that. You might be feeling uncomfortable, or a bit stressed, but don't you think you're using terms that are a bit overblown for the situation?" Yet, terror is the feeling that I'm often experiencing, right then, right in the present. Ever since that torture occurred (and it continued from birth until I was 22), I've had a very difficult time 'titrating' the sensation so that I can 'go forward with my life' without being overwhelmed when that sensation arises in my present experience.
It is true that terror is often out-of-place given the current situation, that anyone who hadn't been profoundly traumatized would likely only be feeling 'stressed'. But for PTSD survivors [and as noted, this isn't only true for child abuse survivors -- I've read about this occurring for war survivors and veterans as well] terror is the sensation that is being experienced, and that terror, though quite likely related to past events rather than the present, is intensely real for the survivor, as 'real' as any experience that anyone else around could feel. That it is inappropriate given the current situation is not something a trauma survivor can 'know', at that moment.
For them, the terror is happening right here, right now, in the immediate moment.
And once that trauma has reignited itself, it's difficult not to be caught in a mad cycle of 'being fearful of fear itself', as the famous Roosevelt expression goes. I have spent much of the time, in recent years, feeling like 'I'm walking on egg shells', afraid that the next article of clothing, or the next food, or the next chemical odor, will once again knock me off my 'stable equilibrium' and send me headlong into a state of terror. To say it 'stresses me out', as the expression goes, is to put it mildly. I've learned to cope and still find a wealth of joy and peace in my life, but that fear of 'the terror being around the corner' never quite goes away.
And, as I've noted, this is equally true for many other survivors of profound trauma.
Recovery and Healing 'From The Past' is an Ongoing Process
If only we could allow the past
to remain in the past
if only we could live our present lives
as the current reality
without the past continuing to impinge upon
and control and abuse our present
If only we could move beyond the trauma
that often strangles our ability
to feel joy and emotional warmth in the 'now'
if only we could heal from those wounds
that so deeply limited our childhoods
and continue to limit our adult years
Healing is possible, and it is the avenue
that allows us to grow and thrive
in the present, in a manner that was unavailable
to us in our past, in our childhoods
Maturity is possible and available, if only
if only
the past could stay in the past
and not continue to periodically
strangle our current lives.
Healing is indeed possible, I have no doubt about that. I've proven it quite often in my own life. It is difficult, and anyone making the journey should know, from the start, that it ain't going to be an easy road.
Yet, the great paradox is that the more I feel safe in my life, the more the feeling of terror invades my current existence.
I realize this sounds quite counterintuitive. But let me explain: the more we feel safe, the more our world is 'righted' after experiencing profound trauma, the more 'emotional space' we have to feel, truly feel, the full expression of all the trauma that we have, for good reason, 'stuffed' away in a place where it wouldn't continue to hurt us.
As my therapist says, the trauma is my 'mentor', though it often feels like a tormentor. My body will only allow certain memories to reoccur 'when I'm ready to deal with them'.
Or, I should say, will only allow them to arise now that I've achieved a distinct level of healing. Unfortunately, when I was younger and had almost no healthy boundaries, the memories flooded my world in a way that was beyond my ability to cope. And my 'method of coping' was dysfunctional, to say the least -- primarily I used excessive amounts of substance abuse to deaden the feelings of terror, feelings of inadequacy, and the feeling that I was basically 'stupid', as my father had told me thousands of times as a child. Luckily for my ability to survive and be healthy, I stopped that self-abuse at 32 and have been completely sober ever since.
But, still, in the present, when I have a negative reaction to a material (wearing new clothing before washing it 10 times, the glue in shoes that I haven't sufficiently 'baked off' in solar heat over several months, or the chemicals in my compression socks) or a food (allergic reactions to proteins other than poultry or salmon, or intense sickness from some sources of water, or eating food too fast and kicking off a hyperglycemic reaction), or certain social situations (when I feel uncomfortable or out-of-place, or where there are noises that are too loud), the emotional boundaries are blown wide open and I have no control over the arising feelings of terror. At those times, my body isn't expressing a healthy titration of the memories; other 'outside' experiences are 'making choices for me', ones that aren't in my best interest.
Yet, even then, in that paradoxical way, the trauma is a 'mentor', in that it is showing me what I still need to heal from -- and what I still need to 'feel' and 'work through'. Healing is not, and rarely is likely to be, 'easy' or 'comfortable'. It often isn't 'fun' nor 'something to greet with joy', though the journey can and often does eventually lead to a place of joy and peace.
It just often requires going through Hell in order to arrive at the other shore.
But it is possible. Healing can occur. The past can, potentially, with enough work, struggle, meditation, therapy, and belief in and love for oneself, live in the past and stay in the past.
Or, I should note, that is my hope!
Tuesday, May 31, 2016
Thursday, May 19, 2016
A Dark Night of the Soul
I haven't written a blog post in over 6 months, as I have been focused on other projects. In the last two months, I have been totally focused, like a laser, on cleaning & reorganizing my house, which I had allowed to fall into a state of general collapse over the last 6 years. It had become, as I joked about, "more a warehouse than a home", when I was in the midst of my 'acquisition addiction'. About two months ago, I finally 'reached my limit' of 'stuff' -- too many books, too many music CDs, too many little things that were drowning me and cutting off my ability to thrive.
Now, though, I have, in jettisoning that addiction to 'more and more stuff' (which I had used, I realize, as a means of 'building a wall of psychic defense around myself') entered into what my therapist defines as the dark night of the soul, based upon a book by St. John of the Cross. When we are in the midst of transformation, we feel 'lost' and out-of-control, and there is no way to know, objectively, where we are headed next. The transformation has a path of its own. And in the midst of that transformation, there is a sense of disorientation -- and often depression and frustration. That's where I am right now. I know that the direction I was taking has not 'worked' for me, but I don't know [can't know] what direction to head in presently.
As a good friend used to tell me, I have to "allow the Universe to have an opinion". Personal 'control' of our destiny is, in any case, largely an illusion. We can plan, and sometimes our plans work the way we intended (and, indeed, having some kind of plan makes us feel safer and more emotionally stable), but other times "stuff happens" which is completely and utterly beyond our 'control', such as economic calamities, hurricanes, getting hit by drunk drivers on the highway, illnesses, falls, and a whole host of events that we never would have [nor could have] predicted. Or sometimes very positive events occur, which equally were not in our planning package, and we benefit from those circumstances. One simply 'never knows' beforehand. As Ram Dass and other writers talk about, the only 'thing' we know about is RIGHT NOW, the present, Be Here Now, etc. The past is, at best, an interpretation and the future is not knowable. As Letty Cottin Pogrebin says in her book Getting Over Getting Older "Human beings have a great capacity for self-delusion in the face of the truth. The attempt to banish the past from the present is, to coin a phrase, a waste of time, since today becomes yesterday tomorrow. Each day moves into the past as soon as we've lived it. The future is only a prayer."
I have tried, in my stuttering manner, throughout my life, to 'find the Answer' to a question that I didn't quite know I was asking, that of "how to find fulfillment" in this plane of existence. I have tried to 'fill' my life with activities and 'things' -- electoral politics, community organizing, serving on community boards of directors, anti-racism advocacy, books, college degrees, artwork, music and a host of other endeavors -- in the vain hope that that 'filling' would lead to 'fulfillment'. But they are two different things altogether. The accumulation of stuff and of activities does not, necessarily, lead to spiritual and emotional satisfaction. It does, sometimes, satisfy me temporarily, but it doesn't give me The Answer that I keep searching for and only rarely, fleetingly, find.
My therapist pointed out this past week that the 'thing' I keep searching for but rarely find is LOVE. I have gotten enough of it from others, at various points in my life, but what I'm profoundly incompetent at is giving it to myself. Achieving self-love -- as in centered-in-self as opposed to self-centered -- is something that was not modeled for me as a child and for which I have spent a lifetime searching without much success. Alice Miller, in her book The Drama of the Gifted Child discusses how we need a certain kind of emotional support at a specific developmental period in our childhood and when we don't get that support, we spend the rest of our lives searching for it, or trying to replicate it, without much success. The problem, she notes, it that we needed it when we needed it, at that specific developmental period, and that lacking will 'set us up' for needless suffering later in life.
I've realized that, as I work through this latest transformation [I've been here before and will be here again in the future], a bit of Gratitude Exercise is in order. Hence, I was thinking several days ago that there were 7 major life surprises that I could not have known about beforehand, and which continue to either bedevil me or have brought me unexpected joy.
Panic Attacks
Due to the profound nature of the traumatic sexual and physical abuse I experienced as a child -- wherein I literally didn't know from one moment to the next if I was going to be tortured by my parents for what was mainly an outcome of their own psychotic problems -- I began experiencing very serious, often prolonged and deeply debilitating panic attacks in my early teens. As I've gotten older and have been in mental health therapy for many years, the intensity and periodicity of those panic attacks has been minimized, but to my surprise (and frustration) they haven't gone away completely. If anything, my sensitivity to the world around me has increased in recent years rather than subsided.
As my therapist pointed out, though, this is hardly surprising. Given the profound nature of the abuse, the world around me simply 'became toxic' to me. I was 'trained' by the trauma to fear, to live in the midst of profound and often debilitating fear and terror. And terror is the sensation I feel the most when in the midst of having panic attacks (which occur at a low-level about once a week, and occur at a significant, life destroying level every couple of years or so). When people say to me "Oh, you might be experiencing anxiety or discomfort, but don't you think calling it 'terror' is a bit grandiose?", that may be their hope, but the facts are that the panic I'm often feeling IS 'terror', predicated by the terror that was visited upon me continuously for the 18 years of my dependency with my parents, and replicated often in the poor relationship outcomes I had as an adult.
I still have great fears about food I eat, or the glue in the shoes I wear, or allergic reactions to the material of the clothing I wear, and I still have, periodically, an agoraphobic reaction to leaving my house. I get some of the oddest [and culturally unusual] reactions from those things, and though I know, to some degree, what to expect and therefore what to avoid (or how to mitigate the negative outcomes I've experienced in the past), at other times the 'terror' is generated out of the blue, in totally unexpected circumstances. It's simply frightening, and no amount of mental health therapy has allowed me to get beyond it. As my former therapist in Albuquerque, Shoshona Blankman (who died of cancer last year) used to say, the fight-or-flight reaction to trauma over time depletes the adrenal glans, by not having a method of 'turning off' the traumatic reaction. And the depletion of those adrenals has resultant negative effects on organs throughout the body.
Aging
Frankly, quite seriously, I'm rather amazed to be 64 years-of-age, and being old enough, of having 'lasted long enough', to 'grow old' in an actuarial sense [of being old enough to qualify for social security and Medicare]. I was so completely depressed and frightened as a young man that I ended up being suicidal and acting out those suicidal feelings with profound substance abuse. Thankfully, at the age of 32, I finally ceased that body-destroying behavior and started to take better care of myself. And somehow recovered, emotionally and physically. So here I am, 'getting older', and being alive and in relatively good physical shape at 64. That I'm thankful is to put it mildly. My suicidal feelings have, in the main, disappeared (or have been, at least, profoundly sublimated) and I'm relatively happy, even if my emotional health is not 'what I'd like it to be'.
Becoming A Leader in My Religious Congregation
For the first 21 years of my being involved in the Unitarian Universalist faith, I was 'not allowed' to be a leader within my congregations, both in Albuquerque and in St. Louis. About 2008, due to a change in the politics of the St. Louis congregation, I was finally 'allowed' to become a leader and to take an active role in the growth of the congregation. That was a major and extraordinary change in my life, and has given me a sense of emotional stability that was not available to me theretofore.
If anything, I'm now 'over-involved', as the generation in front of me burns-out, retires or dies, and the younger members have yet to 'step up' to assume leadership roles. But I'm also engaged in fostering a Men's Wellness Ministry at my church, as well as being involved, within the context of the congregation, in anti-racism advocacy work. All of that is a change that was quite unexpected for a very long time!
Accumulation of Many Years of Collegiate Education
I had assumed, from all the propaganda that the university systems produce in America, that once I had earned a college degree and then two graduate degrees and a graduate certificate, that I would be 'the most marketable guy' possible. It didn't turn out that way. I earned my initial college degree and first graduate degree [in Public Administration] in New Mexico, which has a historically horrible employment market. I was able to gain some employment in the government, but following a change in administrations, getting decent employment became increasingly difficult.
Upon moving to St. Louis and finishing an MSW, followed by earning a graduate certificate in Nonprofit Management, I thought "now I'll be able to get really great employment". It was not to be: I hit the "you're a man and most agencies are managed by females who largely only hire other females" wall, I was hit with age discrimination (I was 50 by the time I finished the MSW), and I was hit with the 'overqualified' quandary (a lie if there ever was one). Plus, the American economy turned quite sour.
It turned out that the more education I accumulated, the fewer jobs were available to me, and finally, after earning the Nonprofit certificate, I was essentially 'made redundant'. I had a chance to use my skills on community boards, but was not able to gain employment, even after sending out 2000+ resumes and having 300+ interviews. Very discouraging, to put it mildly. I've been able to survive from invested income, but survival is the issue. My wonderful hopes of 'economic advancement from having a college education' simply never came to pass. At no point in my employment history did I ever earn more than $25,000 in any taxable year, in spite of having multiple graduate degrees.
In fact, after 2002, the only employment I could secure was as a part-time usher at the St. Louis Symphony, making around $3500 a year. It was insulting in the extreme, and very depressing. So much for the value of a college education and the accumulation of multiple skills throughout life!
Male Body, Feminine Spirit, Transgender Soul
Due, in large measure, to the profound nature of the sexual abuse I was subjected to as a child, my sense of and comfort with my gender-of-origin was obliterated early in life. I am fairly certain, from a combination of a knowledge of child development, mental health therapy, and dream work, that I was first raped by my father at the age of 9 months, in July 1952. And molested several times thereafter by both my parents. Added to that was the profound and continuous nature of the physical torture visited upon me by my father (upon the encouragement and often the instigation of my mother, however much either of them were in denial of those facts). Plus, my father, on multiple occasions throughout my childhood, said "when you were born, we had hoped to have a daughter". Not a great way to have your maleness supported!
The result was that I developed a fear of my maleness, and viewed 'maleness' as being related to being violent and crazed (following the modeling of my father). As I matured, I turned to 'any gender view of myself other than maleness' as a safe harbor. While it's true that if I had been female, I would nonetheless have been tortured (due to the insanity and poor child-rearing skills of my parents), I was, in fact, a male child, and therefore, in our family, being a boy was not a safe role to manifest.
And as I moved into adulthood, my gender confusion only increased, and was further pronounced. The females I dated often demanded a 'kind of manhood' that was suffocating, and which I was unable to manifest with any degree of comfort. Thankfully, in my mid-30s, I found the men's wellness movement. It gave me access to a 'kind of manhood' with which I could be somewhat comfortable.
What has come out of it for me is that I have always felt more comfortable with the world that many of my female friends inhabit (the cultural context that is allowed females in this society) and, further, that many of the 'standard male cultural expectations' are deeply troubling to me. I therefore, for most of my life, have manifested a kind of 'gender fluidity' (or transgender sensibility) that only becomes available to people who were not allowed comfort with standard gender outcomes. Hence, while I have become skilled in working on aspects of men's emotional wellness, it is only with personal acceptance and the knowledge that I have a strong feminine spirit that I have been able to grow and develop a stable 'sense of self' that has brought emotional comfort to my life.
A Stable and Deeply Loving Intimacy
As noted above, many (though, thank God, not all) of my adult female relations, over 40 years of dating, demanded a kind of 'maleness' that I found deeply troubling. It was only with women who allowed for 'gender fluidity' and who valued me as a human being because of that flexibility that I felt any kind of emotional comfort. But that was rare: as one could reasonably expect, given the nature of human society, most females were looking for someone who wanted a family and was willing to support them economically -- or at least provide the greater portion of familial income. I was wholly unable to do that, due to one wall after another forming in my pathway, largely due to the depression I felt for most of my life.
I ended up, from my mid-20s through my mid-50s, being in grievous fear of living and dying all alone. I did have a number of 'relationships' [essentially serial monogamy], but none of them resulted in 'a long term intimacy' until I was 56. Most of my partners wanted to be deeply cared about, but didn't feel a reciprocal need or desire to care deeply about me. That was emotionally and spiritually painful in the extreme. And when I would propose the idea of a long term intimacy [longer than the 6 months that most of my dating relationships lasted], the response was, essentially, "That's an incredibly humorous joke, Donald -- you are one hilarious guy!"
Then, at the age of 56, I met Linda, my present intimate partner. She actually wanted a long term intimacy and was willing to be emotionally and sexually reciprocal in her behavior: that was a surprise and a welcome outcome! As we now joke about, in looking back over the 8 years of your intimacy, it took me 2 years to accept that she was serious about a long term intimacy, another 2 years of just being damned appreciative that someone wanted that with me, before I was willing, at any level, to accept that she actually loved me. And to feel resonant love in return. I still struggle with being able to give myself love, instead of waiting for Linda to give it to me, but I'm growing and healing. And she has been a delightfully powerful partner with whom to heal (as I have been for her). She is my lover and friend, and now I know that I don't have to 'live and die all alone' anymore.
The Love of A Member of My Family-of-Origin
Since 1997, when my middle brother Tony reached out to me emotionally and decided he wanted me as a friend (within a family where my two older brothers were always the 'team' and I, as the youngest, was the outcast, but which changed when my brothers had a severe falling out after Tony's second divorce), I have been able to create a mutually loving and emotionally stable friendship with my brother, that simply was unavailable before then. And which has allowed me to construct a loving warmth with a member of my family-of-origin which was not available with any other member throughout my life. That is a positive change which was simply, profoundly unexpected! Further, he has assisted me in the supplementation of my income, which as allowed me to survive financially even though I have no retirement savings. That's a profound blessing all around!!
In Summary
Hence, life has, as with anyone, provided some good outcomes and some negative ones. Some outcomes, like the panic attacks, long term redundancy, negative economic possibilities of my college education, and the lifelong gender discomfort, have 'bedeviled' me throughout my life and adulthood. Others, like the unexpected loving friendship with my intimate partner and my brother, and having enough financial security to not have to worry about shear survival, have been unexpected positive outcomes to my life: both occurred late in life, after profound struggle and sadness, but they did occur and I know that they have benefitted me greatly. And just 'being here' at 64, which is the most amazing aspect of my life of all (and the most unexpected, given the traumatic torture and rape of childhood, and my suicidal behavior, of many years, as I worked through -- and healed from -- that trauma).
Hence, even as I struggle with this latest dark night of the soul, I know there are generally positive possibilities on the horizon. I continue to grow and heal emotionally, survive economically, and prosper intimately. That gives me great hope for the future of my personal life outcomes. That the struggles will continue is guaranteed -- that's the nature of life. But I'm here and willing to face them!
Now, though, I have, in jettisoning that addiction to 'more and more stuff' (which I had used, I realize, as a means of 'building a wall of psychic defense around myself') entered into what my therapist defines as the dark night of the soul, based upon a book by St. John of the Cross. When we are in the midst of transformation, we feel 'lost' and out-of-control, and there is no way to know, objectively, where we are headed next. The transformation has a path of its own. And in the midst of that transformation, there is a sense of disorientation -- and often depression and frustration. That's where I am right now. I know that the direction I was taking has not 'worked' for me, but I don't know [can't know] what direction to head in presently.
As a good friend used to tell me, I have to "allow the Universe to have an opinion". Personal 'control' of our destiny is, in any case, largely an illusion. We can plan, and sometimes our plans work the way we intended (and, indeed, having some kind of plan makes us feel safer and more emotionally stable), but other times "stuff happens" which is completely and utterly beyond our 'control', such as economic calamities, hurricanes, getting hit by drunk drivers on the highway, illnesses, falls, and a whole host of events that we never would have [nor could have] predicted. Or sometimes very positive events occur, which equally were not in our planning package, and we benefit from those circumstances. One simply 'never knows' beforehand. As Ram Dass and other writers talk about, the only 'thing' we know about is RIGHT NOW, the present, Be Here Now, etc. The past is, at best, an interpretation and the future is not knowable. As Letty Cottin Pogrebin says in her book Getting Over Getting Older "Human beings have a great capacity for self-delusion in the face of the truth. The attempt to banish the past from the present is, to coin a phrase, a waste of time, since today becomes yesterday tomorrow. Each day moves into the past as soon as we've lived it. The future is only a prayer."
I have tried, in my stuttering manner, throughout my life, to 'find the Answer' to a question that I didn't quite know I was asking, that of "how to find fulfillment" in this plane of existence. I have tried to 'fill' my life with activities and 'things' -- electoral politics, community organizing, serving on community boards of directors, anti-racism advocacy, books, college degrees, artwork, music and a host of other endeavors -- in the vain hope that that 'filling' would lead to 'fulfillment'. But they are two different things altogether. The accumulation of stuff and of activities does not, necessarily, lead to spiritual and emotional satisfaction. It does, sometimes, satisfy me temporarily, but it doesn't give me The Answer that I keep searching for and only rarely, fleetingly, find.
My therapist pointed out this past week that the 'thing' I keep searching for but rarely find is LOVE. I have gotten enough of it from others, at various points in my life, but what I'm profoundly incompetent at is giving it to myself. Achieving self-love -- as in centered-in-self as opposed to self-centered -- is something that was not modeled for me as a child and for which I have spent a lifetime searching without much success. Alice Miller, in her book The Drama of the Gifted Child discusses how we need a certain kind of emotional support at a specific developmental period in our childhood and when we don't get that support, we spend the rest of our lives searching for it, or trying to replicate it, without much success. The problem, she notes, it that we needed it when we needed it, at that specific developmental period, and that lacking will 'set us up' for needless suffering later in life.
I've realized that, as I work through this latest transformation [I've been here before and will be here again in the future], a bit of Gratitude Exercise is in order. Hence, I was thinking several days ago that there were 7 major life surprises that I could not have known about beforehand, and which continue to either bedevil me or have brought me unexpected joy.
Panic Attacks
Due to the profound nature of the traumatic sexual and physical abuse I experienced as a child -- wherein I literally didn't know from one moment to the next if I was going to be tortured by my parents for what was mainly an outcome of their own psychotic problems -- I began experiencing very serious, often prolonged and deeply debilitating panic attacks in my early teens. As I've gotten older and have been in mental health therapy for many years, the intensity and periodicity of those panic attacks has been minimized, but to my surprise (and frustration) they haven't gone away completely. If anything, my sensitivity to the world around me has increased in recent years rather than subsided.
As my therapist pointed out, though, this is hardly surprising. Given the profound nature of the abuse, the world around me simply 'became toxic' to me. I was 'trained' by the trauma to fear, to live in the midst of profound and often debilitating fear and terror. And terror is the sensation I feel the most when in the midst of having panic attacks (which occur at a low-level about once a week, and occur at a significant, life destroying level every couple of years or so). When people say to me "Oh, you might be experiencing anxiety or discomfort, but don't you think calling it 'terror' is a bit grandiose?", that may be their hope, but the facts are that the panic I'm often feeling IS 'terror', predicated by the terror that was visited upon me continuously for the 18 years of my dependency with my parents, and replicated often in the poor relationship outcomes I had as an adult.
I still have great fears about food I eat, or the glue in the shoes I wear, or allergic reactions to the material of the clothing I wear, and I still have, periodically, an agoraphobic reaction to leaving my house. I get some of the oddest [and culturally unusual] reactions from those things, and though I know, to some degree, what to expect and therefore what to avoid (or how to mitigate the negative outcomes I've experienced in the past), at other times the 'terror' is generated out of the blue, in totally unexpected circumstances. It's simply frightening, and no amount of mental health therapy has allowed me to get beyond it. As my former therapist in Albuquerque, Shoshona Blankman (who died of cancer last year) used to say, the fight-or-flight reaction to trauma over time depletes the adrenal glans, by not having a method of 'turning off' the traumatic reaction. And the depletion of those adrenals has resultant negative effects on organs throughout the body.
Aging
Frankly, quite seriously, I'm rather amazed to be 64 years-of-age, and being old enough, of having 'lasted long enough', to 'grow old' in an actuarial sense [of being old enough to qualify for social security and Medicare]. I was so completely depressed and frightened as a young man that I ended up being suicidal and acting out those suicidal feelings with profound substance abuse. Thankfully, at the age of 32, I finally ceased that body-destroying behavior and started to take better care of myself. And somehow recovered, emotionally and physically. So here I am, 'getting older', and being alive and in relatively good physical shape at 64. That I'm thankful is to put it mildly. My suicidal feelings have, in the main, disappeared (or have been, at least, profoundly sublimated) and I'm relatively happy, even if my emotional health is not 'what I'd like it to be'.
Becoming A Leader in My Religious Congregation
For the first 21 years of my being involved in the Unitarian Universalist faith, I was 'not allowed' to be a leader within my congregations, both in Albuquerque and in St. Louis. About 2008, due to a change in the politics of the St. Louis congregation, I was finally 'allowed' to become a leader and to take an active role in the growth of the congregation. That was a major and extraordinary change in my life, and has given me a sense of emotional stability that was not available to me theretofore.
If anything, I'm now 'over-involved', as the generation in front of me burns-out, retires or dies, and the younger members have yet to 'step up' to assume leadership roles. But I'm also engaged in fostering a Men's Wellness Ministry at my church, as well as being involved, within the context of the congregation, in anti-racism advocacy work. All of that is a change that was quite unexpected for a very long time!
Accumulation of Many Years of Collegiate Education
I had assumed, from all the propaganda that the university systems produce in America, that once I had earned a college degree and then two graduate degrees and a graduate certificate, that I would be 'the most marketable guy' possible. It didn't turn out that way. I earned my initial college degree and first graduate degree [in Public Administration] in New Mexico, which has a historically horrible employment market. I was able to gain some employment in the government, but following a change in administrations, getting decent employment became increasingly difficult.
Upon moving to St. Louis and finishing an MSW, followed by earning a graduate certificate in Nonprofit Management, I thought "now I'll be able to get really great employment". It was not to be: I hit the "you're a man and most agencies are managed by females who largely only hire other females" wall, I was hit with age discrimination (I was 50 by the time I finished the MSW), and I was hit with the 'overqualified' quandary (a lie if there ever was one). Plus, the American economy turned quite sour.
It turned out that the more education I accumulated, the fewer jobs were available to me, and finally, after earning the Nonprofit certificate, I was essentially 'made redundant'. I had a chance to use my skills on community boards, but was not able to gain employment, even after sending out 2000+ resumes and having 300+ interviews. Very discouraging, to put it mildly. I've been able to survive from invested income, but survival is the issue. My wonderful hopes of 'economic advancement from having a college education' simply never came to pass. At no point in my employment history did I ever earn more than $25,000 in any taxable year, in spite of having multiple graduate degrees.
In fact, after 2002, the only employment I could secure was as a part-time usher at the St. Louis Symphony, making around $3500 a year. It was insulting in the extreme, and very depressing. So much for the value of a college education and the accumulation of multiple skills throughout life!
Male Body, Feminine Spirit, Transgender Soul
Due, in large measure, to the profound nature of the sexual abuse I was subjected to as a child, my sense of and comfort with my gender-of-origin was obliterated early in life. I am fairly certain, from a combination of a knowledge of child development, mental health therapy, and dream work, that I was first raped by my father at the age of 9 months, in July 1952. And molested several times thereafter by both my parents. Added to that was the profound and continuous nature of the physical torture visited upon me by my father (upon the encouragement and often the instigation of my mother, however much either of them were in denial of those facts). Plus, my father, on multiple occasions throughout my childhood, said "when you were born, we had hoped to have a daughter". Not a great way to have your maleness supported!
The result was that I developed a fear of my maleness, and viewed 'maleness' as being related to being violent and crazed (following the modeling of my father). As I matured, I turned to 'any gender view of myself other than maleness' as a safe harbor. While it's true that if I had been female, I would nonetheless have been tortured (due to the insanity and poor child-rearing skills of my parents), I was, in fact, a male child, and therefore, in our family, being a boy was not a safe role to manifest.
And as I moved into adulthood, my gender confusion only increased, and was further pronounced. The females I dated often demanded a 'kind of manhood' that was suffocating, and which I was unable to manifest with any degree of comfort. Thankfully, in my mid-30s, I found the men's wellness movement. It gave me access to a 'kind of manhood' with which I could be somewhat comfortable.
What has come out of it for me is that I have always felt more comfortable with the world that many of my female friends inhabit (the cultural context that is allowed females in this society) and, further, that many of the 'standard male cultural expectations' are deeply troubling to me. I therefore, for most of my life, have manifested a kind of 'gender fluidity' (or transgender sensibility) that only becomes available to people who were not allowed comfort with standard gender outcomes. Hence, while I have become skilled in working on aspects of men's emotional wellness, it is only with personal acceptance and the knowledge that I have a strong feminine spirit that I have been able to grow and develop a stable 'sense of self' that has brought emotional comfort to my life.
A Stable and Deeply Loving Intimacy
As noted above, many (though, thank God, not all) of my adult female relations, over 40 years of dating, demanded a kind of 'maleness' that I found deeply troubling. It was only with women who allowed for 'gender fluidity' and who valued me as a human being because of that flexibility that I felt any kind of emotional comfort. But that was rare: as one could reasonably expect, given the nature of human society, most females were looking for someone who wanted a family and was willing to support them economically -- or at least provide the greater portion of familial income. I was wholly unable to do that, due to one wall after another forming in my pathway, largely due to the depression I felt for most of my life.
I ended up, from my mid-20s through my mid-50s, being in grievous fear of living and dying all alone. I did have a number of 'relationships' [essentially serial monogamy], but none of them resulted in 'a long term intimacy' until I was 56. Most of my partners wanted to be deeply cared about, but didn't feel a reciprocal need or desire to care deeply about me. That was emotionally and spiritually painful in the extreme. And when I would propose the idea of a long term intimacy [longer than the 6 months that most of my dating relationships lasted], the response was, essentially, "That's an incredibly humorous joke, Donald -- you are one hilarious guy!"
Then, at the age of 56, I met Linda, my present intimate partner. She actually wanted a long term intimacy and was willing to be emotionally and sexually reciprocal in her behavior: that was a surprise and a welcome outcome! As we now joke about, in looking back over the 8 years of your intimacy, it took me 2 years to accept that she was serious about a long term intimacy, another 2 years of just being damned appreciative that someone wanted that with me, before I was willing, at any level, to accept that she actually loved me. And to feel resonant love in return. I still struggle with being able to give myself love, instead of waiting for Linda to give it to me, but I'm growing and healing. And she has been a delightfully powerful partner with whom to heal (as I have been for her). She is my lover and friend, and now I know that I don't have to 'live and die all alone' anymore.
The Love of A Member of My Family-of-Origin
Since 1997, when my middle brother Tony reached out to me emotionally and decided he wanted me as a friend (within a family where my two older brothers were always the 'team' and I, as the youngest, was the outcast, but which changed when my brothers had a severe falling out after Tony's second divorce), I have been able to create a mutually loving and emotionally stable friendship with my brother, that simply was unavailable before then. And which has allowed me to construct a loving warmth with a member of my family-of-origin which was not available with any other member throughout my life. That is a positive change which was simply, profoundly unexpected! Further, he has assisted me in the supplementation of my income, which as allowed me to survive financially even though I have no retirement savings. That's a profound blessing all around!!
In Summary
Hence, life has, as with anyone, provided some good outcomes and some negative ones. Some outcomes, like the panic attacks, long term redundancy, negative economic possibilities of my college education, and the lifelong gender discomfort, have 'bedeviled' me throughout my life and adulthood. Others, like the unexpected loving friendship with my intimate partner and my brother, and having enough financial security to not have to worry about shear survival, have been unexpected positive outcomes to my life: both occurred late in life, after profound struggle and sadness, but they did occur and I know that they have benefitted me greatly. And just 'being here' at 64, which is the most amazing aspect of my life of all (and the most unexpected, given the traumatic torture and rape of childhood, and my suicidal behavior, of many years, as I worked through -- and healed from -- that trauma).
Hence, even as I struggle with this latest dark night of the soul, I know there are generally positive possibilities on the horizon. I continue to grow and heal emotionally, survive economically, and prosper intimately. That gives me great hope for the future of my personal life outcomes. That the struggles will continue is guaranteed -- that's the nature of life. But I'm here and willing to face them!
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