18 Dec '07 -
This second post of the day is in response to another diarylander who posted earlier today. I have been thinking about it for a couple of hours.
There was a time in my life where I used to blow up the stupidest things. I had an anger problem. My only saving grace is that I never ever hit or struck or pushed anyone while in a rage.
On a little side track, every fight I have been in I went coldly, knowing what I was going to do to the point of even knowing where my first few blows were going to land.
One day my teenage daughter got me going, really going. I found myself walking towards her, I was going to toss her through the front picture window. I stopped my self after taking onlt two steps towards her. I realized that was not a natural instinct for a father to have. I turned around and went to the basement and fumed.
The next day at work I called the companies family councellers and set up an appointment for me. Just me.
So off goes me and the wife. She couldn't stand the thought of me getting personal with a stranger. Her own words.
Well, in the ten sessions i saw this guy, I learned of issues way back when from when my old man died when I was six. And a couple of minor other ones. I won't get into them as well, I don't think they are very relevant to me this day.
I learned to recognize the split second I was about to blow, I always thought it was instant, but he showed me it wasn't, I had to slow things in my mind right down.
It works so well that when I'm about to bloww off, I tell them I need space AND I LEAVE THE ROOM/FLOOR OR HOUSE! Me not them. The problem is all mine and it is up to me to deal with it.
Ellie, my wife every now and then follows me to where I am going to get calm, she knows but doesn't know that being around my family isn't calming me. My 10, 15 or 30 minutes alone performs wonders for me. Funny thing about my wife, she is a counseller herself but cannot apply a single thing she's trained for to us. So sad, because from all accounts she is very very good at it. She works at a womans shelter and says I reminded her of some of the victums husbands. THat really hurt. This was during our sessions together.
Oh, there is one thing that followed me from childhood. My mother used to physicaly abuse my younger stepbrother. He was 5 years younger than me. I even remember participating once in a while. That stopped when I was 14 and watched my best friend get the snot pounded out of him at school. I did nothing. That was the last time I did nothing ever. Except for my stepbrother. Who can go against their own mother? I wasn't/am not strong enough.
I turned into this skinny kid who fought anyone who beat people up smaller than them. I actually hunted them down. I lost 90% of those fights but I felt really, really good. I never did a thing for my brother. I left home when I was 17 and never spoke or contacted him since. I'm 46 now. How can I? I'm sure it would assauge my guilt, but I let him down for years and years. He is the only fight I have ever run from in my life ever since. Sometimes I think I'm still running.
This hero/coward complex has a funny story though. My two roommates and were in a bar in Halifax when I went to the washroom. I come out and the roomies were in a scrap with 4 guys. Well, I get off my white steed and wade in, remember, now I am a big, big man. Just like in the movies guys are flying, screaming, bleeding, I'm fighting one guy with a guy on my back. I am having fun!!!I grab one last guy and I really have the upper hand, untill one of my roomies shout "NO, NOT HIM, WE'RE HELPING HIM AGAINST THESE GUYS!" That broke my spell and I caught a good one that cracked my cheekbone. But the fight was over and we all left quickly.
I never told a soul about my brother, not my wife nor the counseller. I would love to tell the counseller but I don't want the wife to know this about me. I'm not even sure I'm going to post this, if I do, I might edit it later. We'll see.
Later
