Wednesday, May 20, 2015


Wednesday, May 20, 2015

Yesterday I wrote about what I was doing sixteen years ago at this time.  I was driving across the United States to start a new life in California.  I was so excited.  And yet as I drove that stretch of many, many hundreds of miles I was still carrying the imprint of old trauma inside my skull.  I just did not realize this was the truth of the matter.  Looking back I wish I had sought out better care earlier in my life history.  Doing so might have prevented what I have endured these last two years.

Yes, the grief is still with me now.  But it is better than it once was.  My prolonged sadness is gradually lifting.  And it certainly helps that I am no longer wasting my time by being company to members of my paternal family of origin.  I have met some people with some very dysfunctional boundaries over the course of my life.  But I think my family of origin could easily win a contest for severity of dysfunction and hypocrisy.  Letting go of all the psychic garbage inside my mind and making room for something much better has been such a process.  And yet the process has proven worthwhile.  I do indeed feel much better now.

I am actually doing something of a deliberate 'fast' from Facebook.  I recently began to appreciate what I believe is the dark side of Facebook in particular and social media in general.  Depending on who constitutes your pool of friends it seems social media can end up taking on the quality of a popularity contest.  Who got the greatest number of likes on a single photograph in which the subject is smiling but doing nothing more to contribute to the community than look appealing?  Who is the sexiest person out there?  Who has the best clothing?  Who is the star?  It all begins to take on such an adolescent quality after a while.

My own adolescence was the focus of my discussion with my therapist last night.  Yes, my less than optimal adolescence was indeed the primary focus of our time together.  I feel so sad sometimes when I think about how often I felt ignored when I was traversing that often powerful time in a person's development.  But being ignored was not just something I felt.  It was the reality of my life as a teenager.  My father and stepmother were a bit too busy paying attention to my recently born half-brother to give me the quality attention I needed.  It's no wonder I became so resentful and cynical later on.  And it's also thus no wonder I am still going to therapy many years later.

Healing is a process.  Sometimes it takes quite a long time.

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I invite you to accompany me as I document my own journey of healing. My blog is designed to offer inspiration and solace to others. If you find it of value I welcome you to share it with others. Aloha!