Wednesday, October 26, 2022

Deity

 In the kinky world he was Deity, maybe Mr D. For me, for many years, he was just D.

His words, many years ago, those written on his blog, struck a chord.

I wrote first. He'd talked about a sore leg, as I recall, maybe the dog too, and something made me reach me out and ask if he was okay?

Thus began an email and text exchange, and a sometimes complicated, but always rich and meaningful friendship.

Considerably younger than me, I sometimes 'mothered' him, or 'sistered' him, something he never appreciated but usually tolerated.

In latter times, when my worry about him would have me reaching out to his sister, he was angry with me. He could take care of himself, he said.

He was always sensitive; prone to feel the angst of the world so deeply. He would dive into the world of orchestral music for relief; meditated.

When he experienced grief a few years ago, he struggled to know what to do with it.

My concern would be relieved by a new burst of energy on his part and like this, it would go.

Worry. Relief. Worry. Relief.

It seemed a few months ago like his life was on track. We exchanged notes and he had a dream job, he said and was dating a "gorgeous" girl.

However, in the past few days I couldn't stop worrying about him, and last night I sent a note, please just write back and let me know how you are doing. 

How mysterious it all is. I experienced a stillness after I sent that note that was heavenly in nature. 

Peace.

I hoped to wake to a note from him but instead I had been sent an email from his sister with a link to his memorial service.

He was a complicated man, not easily understood and sometimes perplexing.

But he was a good man, wanted good things for the world and those he cared about.

He loved well. He had an extra good heart.

 Oh my goodness, but I will miss him.



Sunday, October 23, 2022

Healing

When experiences occur earlier in life and are not felt and processed, they sit there in the subconscious (an untreated, unhealed wound) until something or someone triggers them. At this point, the person who has experienced and carries a wound from the past has a reaction. It may even be that they are, in a sense, transported back to the event or events of the past. 

Personally, I have had a few experiences with my husband where I felt that he didn't know that it was me with him. I felt that he was talking to someone else; talking to someone who had hurt him long ago. This was a very disturbing situation and I didn't feel I knew what to do. I stayed completely quiet and after the eruption, so did he.

In general, when my husband is triggered by something I have said, I tend to stop talking. This is a technique I decided to use after I realized that it didn't matter what I said, my words were not going to help the situation.

Aware of the trauma that sits in my husband's subconscious, wholly untreated, I have learned to take it into account.

Recently, a member of the extended family to which one of our children married into, was strident, outspoken and inappropriate with my husband when the subject veered onto politics. This was at a children's birthday party and my husband chose to close the conversation down, which the woman in question did not want to do. She was in for the kill and angry he wouldn't fight.

 My husband had no way of knowing, and I didn't know either, that the young couple were supporters of Trump and his politics right across the board. They don't believe the Earth is warming, for example.

Recognizing the quicksand he had landed into (and I have since raised it with a senior member of the family who admitted it is a difficulty being carried in their family), he made the fastest exit he could. But, it was too late. The woman in question, and now her husband, don't engage with my husband at family celebrations.

This is, of course, upsetting. After listening to my husband again recently explain to me what happened, I suggested that he simply engage one or both of them in a totally safe conversation - the weather, the children, football (we support the same team so that's safe, right?).

But, due to this trauma that sits in his subconscious, maybe him feeling that he made a mistake in some way, my making a suggestion wasn't a good idea. I know this but sometimes I see growth and healing in him that suggests we can go a little deeper in our relationship and that I can talk authentically.

It can be useful to make a note of what happens and what is said in these situations between us. In the past, I have been too blindsided by the verbal attack to remember (or even take in) what is said. The value of writing it down is to evaluate how the situation ensued and what the trigger might have been. It may never be helpful to him if we can't discuss it, but it is helpful to me to understand where the trauma sits.

It went like this in a broad brush way:

- He explained the initial event in detail.

- I acknowledged what happened but reminded him this was in the past, couldn't be undone, but maybe engaging one or both of them in a simple, harmless conversation might break the ice.

- He said to me, at least I remember distinctly these particular words, "Don't make things up?"

- I repeated the words 'Don't make things up' in an effort for him to see where his mind had gone - blaming me.

-He then said, 'I don't need your advice' and said between one to two minutes more of which I don't remember anything.

I stayed silent. After he was silent I picked up my phone to check the weather (a signal from me that I was going to start my day) and he got out of bed.

Event over.

I think a great many people understand now that marriage can be about a relatively safe arena in which trauma from the past is played out. I  know that I am married to a man whose soul/heart/Spirit (whatever you want to call it) is good and pure, but who has suffered trauma that he can't necessarily heal without help, which he refuses to access.

At the same time, I also know that I carry trauma from my past, emotional needs unmet. Thankfully, I have a brother and we are each other's witness. Just talking truthfully, whilst keeping it in context of two parents who were doing their best and were also carrying trauma, has helped us both a great deal.

I do also need to acknowledge that my trauma is not entirely in the past. I continue to experience difficulties living with someone who is carrying trauma. It's a juggling act trying to be my authentic self at the same time as I do my best to have my own needs met and to keep myself emotionally safe.

I do not run from the truth. I know that I am capable of being hurt and I know that I am strong. I have much to be grateful for at the same time as I have had much to endure.

I could have run away many times. I could have ended it and found refuge in aloneness; maybe in the arms of a man who felt entirely safe. I would be lying if I said the thought hadn't crossed my mind.

But, even in the darkest of moments, it's the Buddha's words that I hear. They keep me in the game.

'Hatred never ceases by hatred but by love alone is healed.'