Thursday, January 8, 2015

A Renewed Feeling Of Crisis

Thursday, January 8, 2015

I spoke with one of my aunts yesterday.  It was a very, very brief conversation.  I called to inquire about the copy of my masters thesis that I last saw inside the house that my father once grew up in.  My aunt Carol didn't seem to know where it was.  More concerning was the fact that her voice was a few octaves off.  Yes, she was sick once again.  This is not uncommon for her.  I still do not understand why she gets sick so often.  I suspect her less than optimal self-care skills are one important factor.

Today was not an easy day either.  The lingering feeling of sadness I had yesterday (in response to my aunt's obvious illness) seemed to infect my mood today.  During my lunch break I went to Abbott Hospital to see a physician in the Emergency Department.  I did so because I was feeling a certain distress I could not easily identify.  Initial assessment in triage revealed my blood pressure was a bit high compared to what it typically is.  I later was seen by a nurse and a physician.  My final encounter was with someone who works in mental health.  The conversation in that last encounter was a bit helpful in putting my mind at a little greater ease.

I feel as if I have hit another rough patch; my ongoing recovery process feels a bit sideswiped.  I have written before about how the journey of recovery is never a straight, unswerving line.  We all have highs and lows in our lives.  That is just part of life.  I feel that I am plateauing a bit because I continue to experience immense frustration in my vocational rehabilitation process.  I am not experiencing the results that I want to see manifest.  Is this an issue of patience or is it an issue of me needing to adjust how I am going about the process?  Perhaps both are true.  What I feel clearly is that I am quite frustrated right now.

Some of my current distress is quite obviously a result of the very brief interaction I had with my aunt.  After getting off the phone I had this almost instantaneous and deeply visceral feeling that I was very wise to sever all interactions with my paternal family of origin.  Being unwitting witness to the drama, suffering and avoidance techniques of my father and his siblings was a very painful experience to endure as a child.  I am convinced my father will never really understand just how psychically harmful it was for me to witness what I did when I was a little boy.  It is my belief that my father has a deep ego need to believe his own version of events.  To understand the full extent of what his first son suffered as a result of his own poor choices is something he can't really handle.  And I think this is partly due to the fact that my father has a minimal capacity to be present to other people's pain.  And why this should be so is something I can't fully make sense of.  I suspect his own childhood has something to do with his poor capacity to be present to the pain of others.

As for me I recognize I have my own pain to deal with.  There is still more for me to work through.  I would like to believe this current expanse of psychic darkness will ultimately pass.  This too shall pass.

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