Well, then. I suppose the journey has begun. Today I found myself at the crossroads where hopelessness and despair intersect. Mood tracking -- don't ask. It's SO WEIRD how the external world continues to reflect my internal weather. It's interesting and peculiar to see my emotional storms mirrored in the circumstances and environment surrounding me.
For example, THIS is a great tale of...synchronicity? Or manifestation? If it was the latter, I'm a bit afraid. You be the judge:
I was driving home last night, deep in thought about some truth about myself that I have been forced to confront and begrudgingly accept. I was turning this over in my mind, mulling over the significance of what I discovered. Other things in my life seemed to make more sense. I was thinking about how in my entire life I never thought I had met a psychopath, never gave the idea much thought other than in passing in regards to the occasional serial killer in the news. Otherwise, psychopathy had no significance to me.
When Tristan first started having behavioral issues in kindergarten, I was frightened and alarmed by his behavior. He would hurt the cat. He tried to light fires. He was wetting the bed. Upon further research, I discovered that these are key traits of antisocial personality disorder. I was devastated.
I consumed as much information as I could about the subject, checklists, articles, support groups, message boards, books at the library. I started dating Noe, who during one of our first conversations admitted to having horribly tortured animals when he was a child. He was trying to reassure me about Tristan -- it's a boy thing, he said. Boys are hunters. They are genetically predisposed to kill animals. It's biology. (Tristan never killed any animals, just for the record.)
Anyway, once my mind became fixated on psychopathy, I started to see signs of it everywhere. Even before I met Noe, I had been writing to a prison inmate (dumb, I know) who told me during one of our conversations at my house after he had been released that he had a diagnosis of APD. Noe, of course, fit the description. I saw it in Tristan's dad. I saw it in my brother. My study of APD led me to narcissistic personality disorder, as the two are fairly closely related. Many psychopaths (most? all?) are also narcissistic. I started to see THOSE traits everywhere -- my ex, Dwight. My sister in law. My PARENTS. Never me, of course. Never me.
I took a good, long, hard honest look at myself last night and admitted that yes, I DO have many of these characteristics. Isn't that why I see them everywhere? Isn't everyone just a mirror, reflecting back to me what exists in myself? Anyway, so as I was mulling that over, I wondered if it is my very focus on things which brings them into being. For example, I thought -- if I thought, "cops are everywhere", I would see them all the time. JUST. AS. I. THOUGHT. THAT. The car passing me on my left came into view. It was a police car. They got in front of me, and about a quarter of a mile down the highway was parked ANOTHER police car, which this one drove up to join. I kid you not. This happened.
It's pretty exciting, isn't it? When you realize your potential to manifest any wonderful thing you want? At the same time, isn't it terrifying? To realize that your fears hold exactly the same power, and can just as easily be brought to life?
I was called to pick up Tristan from school today. Again. This happened also on Friday, and last night he was kicked off of the bus. I just don't know what to do anymore. He's in special ed, what else can I do? Do I need to home school him? I don't feel well enough equipped to provide him the education he deserves. I was crying in the principal's office. They gave me contact information for Pine Rest so I can get him an assessment and get him medicated. They said it has made a night and day difference in two of their other kids.
I am so against this. Has it really come to drugging up my child? Is that what is necessary to allow him to function in today's broken society? I wish I had more options as far as schools go. I wish I had more than a one-size-fits-all approach to teaching. I wish his differences could be taught to, instead of cutting off his corners and sanding him down to shove him into the round hole. It kills me to rob him of his Tristan-ness. To feed him chemicals. But, it kills me also to watch him struggle like he does. I know that his self-esteem is flagging. He calls himself stupid, he thinks everyone hates him. I know he tries to focus and he can't. So for his sake, I'm giving it a shot. I have no other options. So, I'm going to contact HR today and see what I need to do to get him on my insurance.
Speaking of ADD, all of these diagnoses are blurring and bleeding, one into the other, indistinguishable. Do we humans even know what the fuck we are talking about? What do these labels even mean? I was told when I was 15 that I had ADD, then was diagnosed with depression, then at 22 was told "No, you don't have depression, you're bipolar" and then at 27 was told, "No, you never had ADD, that was your bipolar all along". Now, I read these checklists, and I'm like...maybe I was never bipolar. Maybe I never had ADD. Maybe I've just been a fucking horrible narcissist the entire time. I can't blame the car accident, I was doing shitty inconsiderate things before that even happened. I always had like 3 boyfriends at a time, I did what I wanted, I lied, talked behind people's backs, cheated, stole. I took this guy's virginity and then cheated on him. Then told him about it, but I had no concept of how he felt. Adolescence? Bipolar mania? Heartlessness?
I have worked really hard to be a better person. I know that I tend to dominate conversations and turn the subject back to me. It takes a concerted effort to LISTEN, and to ask questions, and to resist talking about me. It isn't that I'm in love with myself, rest assured. Also, I have learned to apologize. I used to do the sorry-but's, because I wanted the person to know WHY I had done what I had done, so that they would know that I didn't intentionally hurt them. An admission of guilt and an expression of regret are much more healing than justifications and excuses. A simple, "I care about you and I'm so sorry that I hurt you" goes a realllllllllly long. Fucking. Way.
ALSO, I bought this book, and workbook, and enrolled in this course. It is The Conscious Parent, and I'm really loving it so far. It definitely resonates with me. I really struggle with and disagree with authoritarian models of obedience and power trips. I'm not meant to control my child, I'm meant to guide him. I don't want to use shame, guilt, or pain to change him. So, high hopes for that!
NAUTILUS AWARD WINNER, 2011
Written by Namaste author Shefali Tsabary, PhD, with the Preface by His Holiness the Dalai Lama and advance acclaim by authors Eckhart Tolle, Marianne Wiliamson, Marci Shimoff, Laura Berman Fortgang, and other leaders in the field of parenting, this is the book we've all been waiting for.
This innovative parenting style recognizes the child’s potential to spark a deep soul-searching leading to transformation in parents. Instead of being merely the receiver of the parents’ psychological and spiritual legacy, children function as ushers of the parent’s development.
Once parents are learning alongside their children, power, control, and dominance become an archaic language. Instead, mutual kinship and spiritual partnership are the focus of the parent-child journey.
Parents unwittingly pass on an inheritance of psychological pain and emotional shallowness. To handle the behavior that results from this, traditional books on parenting abound with clever techniques for control and quick fixes for dysfunctionality.
In contrast, in Dr. Tsabary’s conscious approach to parenting, children serve as mirrors of their parents’ forgotten self.
The parent who is willing to look in the mirror has an opportunity to establish a relationship with their own inner state of wholeness.
Once a parent finds their way back to their essence, they enter into communion with their children. The pillars of the parental ego crumble as the parent awakens to the ability of their children to transport them into a state of presence.
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