Exposing My Crackers

Been a while!  I wanted to write about therapy this week because it was one of those rare nights when I left more confused than when I walked in...

I think I understand why I'm enjoying writing this blog and it goes back to an entry in December.  I wrote about the paradox of looking for support or love and then not knowing what to do with it once you got it.  I want to express myself to others, yet I don't want to talk about it.  By writing rather than talking, I can lay my feelings bare and walk away.  Many people have left comments and I truly appreciate it.  Please continue because you make me analyze all of this from different perspectives.  I do NOT want to talk openly about it, though.

There are only a few people that I'll allow myself to talk to and I can count them on one hand.  If you're not in that exclusive group, you shouldn't take it personally.  I'm just not comfortable.  Often, I don't know how to express myself anyway.  I'll sit down, try to talk and all you'll hear is, "Um, ur, well, I feel... um... grrr.."  And only a couple of friends have been able to say, "Don't worry.  I know EXACTLY what you're saying."

This is rehashing old news - it's not that the rest of my family and friends aren't supportive.  I know that you are, in your own ways.  You've tried extremely hard to understand what you can't.  In those cases, I wish you'd acknowledge that I'm a guy and I have my man-cave and all I want from you is a grunt and for you to turn the TV up.  I'm simply not very good at all this emotional crap.

I think this might sum up how I was feeling when I left:

"It's a joy to be hidden, but a disaster not to be found." - D.W. Winnicott

I want to isolate and lick my wounds, yet the longer I'm isolated the worse the wound gets.  Part of this is due to the fact that I've asked for help or understanding before and the results have been awful - from friends and family alike.  There are specific incidents of baring myself, only to find that my confidence was handed to the very people I would NEVER want it exposed to.  Or, just as bad in my opinion, I've found that the people I've opened up to were after this to use me.  Misery loves company, especially the company of those more miserable.  Support groups can be dangerous if you're not careful.  Learned that the hard way...

If not for these realizations, though, I would not be connecting with those 'new' people in my life.  The funny thing is, they've been around for years.  It's only recently that communication has increased and bonds are being reforged.  I never imagined that writing would kindle these relationships the way that it has.  I sometimes feel that I should have the balls to talk openly about it and that I'm avoiding confrontation by writing instead.  The reactions that I've received from other people have been the opposite.  It seems like people enjoy the fact that I've had the balls to write!  Yet, to me, making a public blog and exposing myself to hundreds of people is more cowardice than courage.  Funny how that works.  But there's no denying that it's doing me a world of good.

A question was posed to me a few weeks ago regarding my support group and how people would react if I relapsed right now... right at this very moment.  It was uncomfortable at the time.  I didn't want to think about that.  I didn't want to ask the question because I didn't want OTHERS to be uncomfortable.  But I guess this is me asking just that question - what would your reaction be if I relapsed NOW.  I'm not looking for an answer.  I've written for almost a month and a half, so you've got some idea of where I stand.  Most people that I know would have to resist the urge to slap the shit out of me.  Do you turn around and tell others about what's happening ("Omg, guess what he did?")?  Do you write to the world, "I wish he'd get his head out of his ass" (because that's happened)?  Do you say, "Well, he's a relapser... I expected it and everyone should keep their distance" (that one, too)?  Or do you just tell me that it'll be okay?

Just curious and I was told to put it on paper, so to speak.  This is me trying to do what everyone has been asking me to do for years - open up.  I feel like Harrison Ford in 'Regarding Henry' sometimes.  You ask me to express myself and I wind up painting a picture of friggin' Ritz crackers.  WTF...

But things really are good lately.  I've been doing a lot of work and, while exhausting, I know it's paying off.  It's been years since I've been able to sit down at night, turn on a little music or maybe read a little, and be comfortable *with myself*.