Chapter 28
Duality Part III
I remember the counsellor (the Heyoka) at rehab repeatedly telling me ‘It’s simple [my name]’. It used to drive me nuts. ‘What’s simple?!’ Came my frustrated reply every time.
I was reminded of that as my work with ‘B’ came to its conclusion recently.
‘Oh my God it was so simple’ he exclaimed. I giggled as I always do in those moments.
It’s a simple thing indeed but we’ll spend a lifetime running from it. Addictions. Suicide attempts. Self harm. Anxiety. Depression. Abuse. Excessive exercising. Excesses doing. You name it….but we’ll argue to death’s door it isn’t simple.
When you’re healed beyond a certain point, life changes in unbelievably beautiful ways; ways that are too good to not share with others, but for this chapter and one or two more, the podcasts (and facing my fears of publishing them) will have to wait.
Four…
My daughter’s truth:
The absolute truth:
My son’s mother never had to guess. She only needed to ask him. To care enough to ask why he had to move out. Instead she enrols her daughter to engage in ‘word salad’ designed to destabilise him enough so that he’ll react rather than respond.
A word to my daughter, it isn’t your job to protect your mother. It was always hers and it was always mine to protect YOU.
Now, I know I’m gifted as we all are in various beautiful ways. I’ve now finally stepped into my power, Light and my inner warrior to own these gifts to help others. However, I haven’t mastered brainwashing yet. But I have mastered listening and validating my son’s experience. I’ve maintained my curiosity and encouraged his. I’m open to what is and not what I want things to be. My daughter is full of fear and when fear is driving the bus, we react by a set of subconscious drivers that we have no clue as to their origins. I know, because I was there once too.
Five…
My daughter’s truth:
My truth:
December 23rd 2018 at 5am I sat on my back door step about to open the first of ten bottles of wine for that day. I had been discharged from rehab in the September of that year because I couldn’t get honest and simply tell them how scared I was of absolutely everything that had to do with social interaction and the world around me (it takes no time at all to get back to the lethal dose of whatever’s an addicts substance of choice). I had been fearful all my life, except with alcohol and drugs inside me in the earlier days. I had learnt never to show true vulnerability. Don’t get me wrong, I’d cry in front of others and be in victimhood for things unrelated to the real issues. Any sympathy I could rally for the dissolving of a relationship or the fact I couldn’t see my kids was most welcome but rarely gathered and in fact served only to drive friends and family further away. This is a common coping strategy in unresolved deep trauma and complex PTSD. It was my coping strategy.
For the umpteenth time that morning, I looked at the neighbours weeping willow and hollered 'What am I missing? What can’t I see?’
Then, for the first time, I heard ‘You have to stop drinking to find out'.’ It was as clear as day and the most lucid message of my life. Yes, I know it’s simple but alcohol saved my life once and I wanted to continue the lie. Hours later, I rang my ex-wife to ask if I could stay at her’s to detox and get away from the ‘drinking chair' in my kitchen. I knew it was a matter of life and death for me and had no one else I could ask at that time. Actually, just writing this I’ve realised I just bullshitted both myself and the reader; I could have rang the rehab I was discharged from but my pride was way to involved in my life back then to prove them right.
It wasn’t a welcomed request. And I get that. But like all requests for help (and there were very few in comparison to hers), it was met with zero empathy. No humanness. No care. Just what an inconvenience I’d be. But she finally agreed but there were conditions; firstly, I was to remain in the spare room and only leaving to use the toilet. I wasn’t to go downstairs to see my children. Secondly, I was to sleep on the floor as all beds were taken with my children’s grandmother staying over for Christmas too. I wasn’t permitted to use the sofa even if I kept my time on it to unsociable hours.
I was dying so there was no delay in me agreeing to those terms.
In that same day evening, I was to be a taken by my ex to my first Alcoholics Anonymous evening. I still remember walking in and seeing some people from my rehab days. I was trembling and profusely sweating from withdrawal. I felt such shame despite their gorgeous warm welcome. Shame is a big part of complex PTSD and addiction. Despite the evidence all around, you can’t actually believe anyone is happy to see you.
My ex wife, in true altruistic narcissistic form, stayed in the room bathing in the glory bestowed by the fellows of the group for bringing a sick man to his first meeting. I’ll never forget her face; it still makes me nauseous today.
To my daughter; I’m sorry you were ‘forced’ to see me. No child should ever be forced to do that. I think that the pressure of a social worker visit to your mom’s home forced her hand to keep looking to be doing the right thing maybe? Nonetheless, I’m so sorry I let you down by leaving back in 2010 and the behaviours you experienced at times from me.
Regarding the ‘countless’ things my ex wife did for me, the reality is very different. In fact, the number of things she did for me is the precise number of things my children and others know about and one other that I tell people; she did cook a meal for me once in the 17 years together (much like what what children experienced when I left home). It was a lasagne. It was really nice too. All those ‘things’ had to be heavily negotiated unless something was in it for my ex wife.
And yes, my beautiful daughter, we are indeed who we surround ourselves with when unhealed. Enablers and worse.
Speaking of which, I’ve decided to combine ‘The Enabler’ and ‘The Ex’ into the next final chapter (there maybe one more for my son to author, should he wish, further down the line); ‘The Enabler and his Wife’.
Wishing you all a day of contentment, belief and Magic.
And remember, even on our darkest days, we are and always were, Loved.