Character building

Imagine for a moment a family which struggles. Let's put some details around that. Imagine a man looking to gain some autonomy, a man that was raised on a farm by a father that went to war; a father damaged psychologically and unfit to raise the boy. Survival of the spirit demands that the man leave the family farm and make it on his own.

The man has good intentions. He wants to succeed and he is willing to work very hard to make that happen.  There is no issue with perseverance here. He's a hard working man. The farm may require the clearing of much of the land, but he'll do it a tree at a time if necessary. He will get up early and come in late if that is what he needs to do.

He wants to do right by his children. His birth family demanded that he be responsible from a young age and he has taken on that hard work ethic message. There is a great deal of anxiousness around his responsibilities and he exhibits this with flare ups and angry words. Success is a standard that must be met, not just by him but also by his offspring. It's natural to him to expect the children to focus on work, on achievement, on grades, on the higher education he never had, but wanted.

In this environment, those children with a relatively easy scholastic aptitude and an inbuilt sense of their place in the world, most likely the first born child, will fare all right. There are issues, because that hard work ethic is likely to plague the first born child's life also, but the scholastic aptitude and the attention given to the first born are assets.

If, in the mix of the family, there is a child that has a difficulty, maybe a reading difficulty or a more soft and anxious disposition, there are likely to be considerable issues. Since academic success is the measure of a child in this family, a sense of Self will be damaged and a need to prove one's worth will be high on the agenda.

Such a child is likely to try very hard to attain academic success, or any success, in the eyes of the father. A sporting achievement might be useful here, or simply hard work; taking on responsibilities beyond the age of the child.

Imagine in this family, there is illness that falls upon the family. The empathic member of the unit, the mother becomes chronically ill, terminally ill. Imagine that she is encouraged to travel the world in what might be her last year(s) of life, leaving behind children away at school but also children at home, at the local school. 

Imagine this young and vulnerable child, academically challenged, not at all failing but struggling to get those super duper scores to impress the father, now asked to take on much more responsibility than a child of his tender years should be asked to do, without the softness of his mother to offer him the succor and support he so needs. To survive, he must, he realizes intuitively, control his emotions; keep on keeping on.

In these early years of life, born into this family with this disposition and these challenges, to not display one's emotions, to keep one's head down, to work hard, to keep aiming high and to try everything in one's power to impress makes sense. It is a child's primary goal to survive one's childhood and so the child does what he needs to do.

In adulthood, and as the boy ages over time, the strategies are not nearly so successful. There is some semblance of  flexibility with his own children in terms of what success looks like, but academic scores are still what matter. It's only when his own children begin to exhibit significant signs of creativity that he is forced to surrender to the notion that there is more than one way to live a successful and happy life. 

Hard work, long hours, relentless striving with not much recognition of day or night, weekday or weekend is his life. It goes beyond need to work. This is a striving that has a life force of its own. And, a logic of its own. Certain tasks are avoided, sometimes for decades, whilst other tasks are undertaken with a microscopic precision; the details sometimes far more important than the overview demands. The big picture is not able to be seen.

When I think about such characters for a story I find myself wanting and yet unable to get them to a place where damage is healed. If a person strongly believes that the way they live is the right way to live, what can the family do about this? Where would a therapist begin if such a man ever agreed to evaluate his thinking and strategies? This is all so unlikely.

I listen to a podcast of two psychologists shooting the breeze about various issues relating to treatment of personality disorders and it was interesting to hear what they had to say about a personality such as I have painted above. For one thing, a year's therapy was seen as a minimum, 50 sessions. The goals would be to reduce the high standards, re-scripting, which largely means re-parenting, or chair work; looking at what a healthy parent might have said or done in certain circumstances.

Another interesting treatment strategy would be for the person be set a goal but in a shorter time than they would allow on their own. The idea is to break down the perfectionism whilst also getting tasks achieved.

Pushing the notion that emotions are a good thing was another strategy; not just anger which comes so naturally to someone who has been traumatized in childhood but a whole range of emotions; re-evaluating vulnerability as a way into true intimacy. No small task.

Thy life's a miracle

 Since I can't vote in the US election, like everybody except American citizens, one is left to watch, hope and pray that American citizens will take their responsibility, and their opportunity, seriously to return the world back to some sort of balance, harmony and unity.

I happened to meet someone out walking yesterday and we were saying how lucky we are to be Australians. We conform to rules. We accept lock downs in an effort to keep the vulnerable safe. We care about others. We do things for the greater good. 

In my city we have been under curfew for months. Right now, the curfew has been eased so that we can be out of our houses for a few specific and vital reasons until 9 pm. 'That wouldn't fly here,' said an American friend.

The friend in the street agreed that the Greeks wouldn't tolerate it either. But, apart from a bit of grumbling here and there, we are tolerant of the restrictions. We see the point, the plan; the reasoning, based on best medical advice.

My friend happened to have a pet emergency last night and as he drove to have the dog operated on, across several suburbs, he met not another car on the street. Honestly, we comply.

I admit I am nostalgic right now for a better America. (American was my home for 11 years and I love the place.) I watched the whole SBS 'Hillary' documentary this week, and interviews with various members of the Bush family. What kind and decent people they are, and Laura and  George produced two really 'beautiful in spirit' young women.

Then, I spent time yesterday afternoon watching Supreme Court Justice Ginsberg in conversation at a few law schools. She was so considerate and gentle with the students, so well aware that behind all her decisions were people. I loved the line, 'You can disagree without being disagreeable.'

Anything that divides masses of people, anything at all, is really such a bad idea. It goes against the law of mankind, people living together on the one planet; that you treat people as you would want them to treat you. It's that simple. Haven't we learned this over the centuries a hundred times over?

Who actually wants a man like Donald Trump as their leader? The lies, the accusations, the false statements; the vendettas; the thirst for love and approval displayed on the world stage. Which other President of the United States in modern time has even come close to creating such acrimony, such division; such disgust?

On a spiritual level, the World Wide Web created the opportunity for the West to learn about the open hearted kindness, gratitude and tranquility practices of the East. It felt hopeful. Imagine if people across the Globe developed awareness! Imagine all the people, living life in peace!

I do feel we are at a crossroads. There are people so fearful for the sake of the planet they believe, based on evidence available, that we may be the last people to walk this Earth. 

For the sake of the world at this time, we need a new direction. Nothing is more important for you to do in your American lives than to get out and vote. What possible plausible reason can you give for not attending to this civic responsibility? Please, vote.

Guilt

In an episode of Wanderlust we see Joy in a session with her therapist where she is eventually confronted about a "pattern" that her therapist has identified. When something awful happens to Joy in her life (for example, the funeral of her mother when her father said to her in the car on the way to the church that 'nobody wanted her to make a fuss today'; or the time her client rang Joy (who is also a therapist), she didn't answer the call and he promptly decided to suicide off a bridge), she goes into a non-feeling state and subconsciously enacts various other crises in her life so that she doesn't have to feel the really awful thing.

Joy may be unaware of her own patterns but she is smart enough and educated enough to see the truth of what she is told in this session. This new awareness of her behaviors throughout her life shocks Joy into a deeply felt feeling state which then leads to a complete breakdown of emotion where she cries intensely. 'It feels good to feel, doesn't it, Joy?'

I was entranced throughout this episode by the brilliant writing and the even more brilliant acting abilities of Toni Collette who I have always admired for her courage to lose herself in a role. How clever to have the audience watch all her missteps, baffled by how dumb a therapist could actually be, only to be discover that her mind was, in all its deceptions, protecting her from discovering the deep emotional pain hidden inside.

In the more immediate experience in Joy's life, where she didn't answer the call from her client and it was the last call he ever made, she was later told by the police, a sense of betrayal, a sense of letting down this man, of possibly being able to save him, was too much for her mind to take in. It was a deeply sensed feeling of guilt. She felt responsible, when, as we know, his choice to take his life was his responsibility and his alone. Still, responsible types, empathic types, are always going to feel strongly, almost unbearably, responsible for the other.

So, the episode, as all good drama does, pointed out a fundamental truth; that some of us hold ourselves responsible for the behavior of others, so completely sometimes that we are prepared to make a good old mess of our own lives.

Will does a similar thing in his life. Beaten and battered by his father, Will hides his deeply troubled emotions behind a veneer. He lets the girl he loves, and who adores him, head off across the country and seems powerless to change, until his therapist, the much missed Robin Williams, manages to get through to him finally that "it is not your fault".

I am personally familiar with this dynamic; with this feeling of responsibility, at the same time as I register the irrationality of the thought. The mind twists and turns trying to make sense of things. I remember someone saying this to me, "It is not your fault. You did nothing wrong." 'I know, I know," I said, almost in the exact way as did Will. So she repeated it, much like Will's therapist, until it finally sunk in.

Guilt. Responsibility. What powerful words they are for humans!

At this juncture in my life I do better with simply letting go; with accepting that there are some things over which I have influence, but I can't, nor should I, change what cannot be changed.

It is what it is. It will always be thus. Who I am to think I can alter the grand scheme?

Legacy

I've watched The Godfather many times. Not only did I have a thing for Al Pacino but I was drawn to the story in a way that went well beyond the superficial story of the Corleone family and their Mafia control.

Many years after seeing it for the first time I listened to Ted Stanton talk about how he wrote Toy Story and I finally realized why The Godfather pulled me in. Ted explained that every movie has a message (It might be 'love is complicated' or it might be 'love is not complicated', for example) and every protoganist wants something. The film is built around that message and those wants. So, Michael, long after his father died, wanted to please him. Break down the whole movie and that's what you've got; a son's desire for his father to be proud and content.

I don't personally particularly relate to that message since it isn't an issue that has confronted me. I was, if not the favoured child, the good child. I didn't feel that I needed to make anyone proud. It's not really a concept that entered my mind much. I was too busy trying to accept myself, if that makes sense; that parcel of characteristics and eccentricities that make up who I am, to be too worried about what other people thought, even my parents. I was sometimes plagued by seeing my father unhappy and probably that's what made me 'good' and silent; a desire not to cause him any more unhappiness or anxiety than he already felt.

I can see that many people do have Michael Corleone's issue. My husband was not first born. He didn't get the attention that is so naturally thrust on the first born child. Instead, I would say that as a middle child he was almost neglected; considered unimportant; not privy to high expectations. He felt this and railed against it. He, of all the children, wanted to be a big success; to travel; to get away from poverty and distress. Against the odds, he achieved well in the academic arena and rose high in his profession of choice. That he did so well for a period of time probably made it even harder on him when the tide turned against him, and being born with tenacity, I feel sure that as long as he is breathing, he'll never give up trying to achieve success as it is defined in his mind.

I think there are two reasons why he'll never give up. Certainly, he takes his responsibilities to his family seriously. He wants the best for me and the children. But, I think the real reason he won't ever give up is that he is plagued with a similar obsession to Michael Corleone.

It's odd this complete commitment to a cause that is unwinnable. I understand it and I don't understand it at the same time. If a man was a delight to be with; if he was generous with his time and made that shared time pleasant, if he was affectionate or had a positive effect on his children's state of mind; I'd understand. However, my father-in-law cannot be described in this way at all. He's extraordinarily moody, cantankerous; difficult; not prone to praise people. He has zero awareness of the upset he causes amongst the family, it is thought, although I have strongly suspected for decades that he revels in this upset.

He has good qualities, of course. He is a family man and can be pleasant on occasion. He means well. But, his control issues and need to stay Top Dog supersede the goodness. He's manipulative, controlling, demanding and overbearing. You won't find anyone who will call it another way.

From the outset my husband warned me not to get involved in the politics of his family. I am pleasant to all of them; shoot the breeze with all of them and leave it to him to make the decisions related to them, even when I have found the situation quite ludicrous. I realized even in the early days that there was an unspoken policy that the children were to succeed and not succeed at the same time. To succeed meant that they could also be subject to their father's wrath. How could they live in comfort, perhaps buy a new car or home, when he had wants of his own? I overheard a hundred of these comments and this kept my husband down on the farm through university holidays, giving whatever spare money he had and then giving big chunks of money when he had big chunks of money to give.

That's all fine if there was some sort of recognition that my husband (and I) had paid his dues. My husband has given back every cent he has ever cost many, many times over, gave of his time almost every night of our lives for some years listening to his father's complaints about life on the phone. (Had he planted a camera in our house, calling at the exact moment I put the dinner on the table??) But, nothing turned him into a happy man. My husband is still trying, bless him, but nothing can make my father-in-law happy. He chooses to be unhappy.

I was talking to my oldest son last night and at a certain point I found myself sharing my concerns about his father. It's something I hate to do, but last night, it just happened. I didn't know, I said, how to stop his father from working himself into an early grave. My son does everything he can to allay my fears but this is what he said to me last night:

"Yeah. I just can't seem to pull him out of his distress lately. He always seems so exhausted, so defeated, so negative. In the past I've been able to cajole him and get him talking about something else, but lately it feels that I just can't make him happy."

Ka-Ching!

"Darling, who do you sound like?"

Silence

"Ohhhh, Dad talking about Grandpa."

"That's right. He'd hate to know that; that he was imposing on you in this way; that you feel responsible for his happiness in this way. It's not your responsibility to make him happy."

Now is not the right time for me to sit my husband down and explain what he is doing to his beloved son; the son he absolutely adores; the son of which he is so rightfully immensely proud.

To any father reading this, please drop the denial and listen to my words. Don't let this be your legacy. Take responsibility for your own happiness and leave your children in peace. Wear a smile. Teach them that life is good by enjoying your life. That's the best gift you can give your children. Life is to be lived, not endured.

Perspective

Several years ago, my husband suffered a series of misfortunes where people he knew and trusted deceived him and other associates. Ruthless men navigate the space in which he works, unfortunately. The last deception and double-crossing behavior that occurred meant that he was left financially exposed.

For most people, it would have been too much and something would have needed to be sold, perhaps the family house. It's no co-incidence in my mind that he became very unwell towards the end of the fiasco. He was dealing with overwhelming distress, disgust, disappointment and despair as to what this greedy pair of multi-millionaires had done to honest, hard-working people, including himself.

Our personal agreement some years before this, right about the time that I came to him and exposed my kinky self, was that he'd handle the money side of our lives entirely himself. He wanted full responsibility, it's true, but he also felt that it allowed me to focus on the family, on fun, on our new and evolving kinky agreement. It felt right to me too. It's a little more complicated than that, in fact, but it's all that is necessary to say in light of the point of the post.

Of course, we hoped that the situation would resolve itself as soon as possible, but it didn't work out that way. It is still to be resolved, and whilst we can't know when it will be resolved, we believe that it will happen one day in the relatively near future.

My husband did (and does) his best to create stability for me and for the family. In some measure, life has gone on as usual. We didn't move house, the children remained at their schools and universities and whilst our plans for the future had to be put on hold, life is fundamentally the same, or, similar.

Where life changed is that my husband works around the clock to ensure that "the ships stays afloat". He doesn't like to talk about financial details. In fact, I am not allowed to know the details. He gives me a broad brush idea when I ask, a few general sentences, but no more than that.

In some ways this black curtain over the situation troubles me (perhaps I imagine it to be worse than it is?) but on the other hand it does allow me to switch off from the worry in large measure and to enjoy other aspects of life. My husband has said on a number of occasions that I didn't get us into this jam and I don't need to be in the trenches fighting back. In fact, he insists that I don't do that.

When he works and worries too incessantly I tend to make two suggestions. First of all, I suggest we sell the house. 'We don't need to be here anymore in this suburb and we don't need this big house. We could sell it, pay off the debt and your worry would be gone.' But, he's not inclined to this outcome. He wants to fix the problem, and stay right where we are. He's a stubborn sort of a guy and that's what he wants.

Secondly, I suggest that we be happy. 'The miserable pair of nasty bastards would be thrilled for us to be unhappy, so let's be happy and win the game!' But, that's a female thing to say, I know, and my husband knows that winning means staying financially afloat. To win, he must, to his mind, remain financially vigilant, everpresent. To this end, every day he works hard and long to achieve this end. 'But, we can't wait for everything to be in place to be happy,' I suggest. He says he understands but the responsibility remains.  The world rests squarely on his shoulders.

Meanwhile, the lovely power exchange relationship that we shared is severely under threat. You can't put time into controlling your girl and providing wonderful containing experiences for her, or monitoring her, or surprising her with some lovely and nasty experience when you feel forced to steer the ship through massive storms. You don't make love, or feel much desire, or tie up your wife and beat her, when you have a ship to keep in one piece as it rides the gail force winds. The Captain must remain at the wheel.

As it turns out, one year led to two, to three, to four, and a wife can get pretty lonesome, pretty frustrated. 'Let's get out of the house,' I suggested this evening. 'Let's get a curry down at the Japanese restaurant. I can't even cook for the price they charge.'

We sat side by side on stools, but his mind was a hundred miles away. I wondered how I could reach him, what I could say. As we walked back to the car, I said, 'Won't it be wonderful when this is all over and you don't need to worry.' 'Oh God', he replied, 'I live for that day.' He is a profoundly well-meaning, honest, hard-working man, good man; a man devoted to his extended family, our family; to me.

It's been a very hard, painful road, but I have to believe that one day it will be over; that he will return to me, body and soul. We'll be relaxed, return to the kinky, fun and fulfilling relationship that we began 10 years ago and life will be sweet again.

Love, the strength and tenacity of our love, will win the day. Laughter will reign in this house. And if there is a God, retribution will come, in one way or another, to those who walk over the innocent and good people of this world.

Shake, baby, shake

My husband has been unwell for a few months now but ill health is not unknown to him. He's suffered a myriad of  relatively minor (to major) but unpleasant conditions over a long period of time.

He tends to tell his doctor what is wrong with him rather than the other way around and somehow or other he manages to get his doctor to do what he wants him to do. Over the past several weeks, I've listened tirelessly to my husband give his version of what he has and what needs to be done about it. Meanwhile, he has no referral, and hence no appointment, to a see a specialist about chronic fatigue syndrome.

How does one know when one is to be tipped over the edge and fall down into the pit of impatience? One doesn't. All I can tell you for sure is that today was the day.

I have done my own research for chronic fatigue and guess what? My husband's state ticks all the boxes. Not only did he suffer childhood stress but he has been under considerable financial and general stress for years and years. He sleeps the least amount possible but now finds that he must sleep in most mornings. He has extreme fatigue worsened by physical exertion. As well, he has severe muscle pain, food sensitivities, frequent urination, dry mouth, and brain fog. He is in a bad way.

Yet, he still won't come to bed at night; still has trouble accepting that there is a stress component to this condition; that he is an anxious person; a perfectionist with some obsessive and driven behaviours.

As his submissive, I've gone the track of listening and being patient. I've agreed with him, even when I didn't agree, knowing that he'd get cross if I offered an opinion different to him.

On the weekend, I suggested that maybe 5% of his condition has a psychological component - that is, his tendency towards anxiety generally and the fact that he has gravitated towards stressful and difficult situations, only to be even more stressed when they didn't go the way he expected.

He got really, really mad. It was "bio-chemical", he insisted and nothing more or less than that.

What is a submissive to do? Well, today I told him that I couldn't sit back and just agree with him any more. He needed to respect that I didn't hold the same opinion as him and that I was voicing my opinion because I cared about him. I just couldn't sit back and watch this happen any longer. I wanted him to see an expert in chronic fatigue. He could seek any and all other remedies he wished but I wanted him to get the referral to a guy who knew something about this condition.

And, I wanted him to start taking care of himself. How about some sleep???

Well, it didn't go well. I guess you're not surprised about that. But, my husband has often spoken about the fact that to get past inertia you have to shake things up and I have shaken. It's a start.

His limits

I am currently reading book reviews and I came across these lines about a protagonist in a novel -

"...a girl who permits herself no extremes of temperament, who accords herself no right to self-assertion - Toibin exercises sustained subtlety and touching respect."

It struck me that I have been that girl. I've attempted to have no extremes of temperament. Fearful of upsetting the other, I've held onto my emotions and attempted to express my feelings when I could, if the opportunity ever came up.

I've accepted my fate, just as did Eilis. There was no dash from the harbor for her; no refusal to go where she was told. She got on that boat and she did her best to live life in a new country.

She does well, ultimately. She makes roots in a new life in America only to learn that life demands she return 'home' to Ireland. But,where is 'home' now?

Eilis returned to Tony in Brooklyn. I course she did. Women go where their man doth go.  If Tony's life was in Brooklyn then so her life was in Brooklyn. It was what led me to the United State myself.

It is the natural instinct of (most) women to find a man; her lover; her protector; that person who will take care of her. Romance books are all about that fact and there must surely be a reason why this genre is the most popular of all genres. Women read about what they truly want, no matter their life choices.

A woman can do a great deal for her man; fulfil his needs and wants; be his slutty fuck toy. However, she must always feel that he respects her. Without respect and warmth, she begins to lose self-respect and ultimately if her man will not be the one to save her, she must save herself.

His limits are so much more important than her limits. He must always keep her emotionally safe; ensure her that what she does is appreciated and that she never needs to feel foolish when she surrenders to him. This is his role in the arrangement; his duty; his responsibility - to keep her whole; to ensure there is no emotional harm.