Watch Taxi to the Dark Side.

No, seriously… watch it if you haven’t already.

At first, after watching this documentary, I was struck with a deep desire to find a way to get the hell out of the United States. Not so much for myself exactly… I was thinking about the family I hope to have one day, how the people in that video will be among my neighbors… I would not want my kids around them at all!

However, I didn’t create this crazy-ass situation, I’m certainly not responsible for it. I could quite possibly become a force for good and help others improve. One of the things I could do in preparation for the hoped-for family is help create a community where I feel safe raising children (after, of course, I marry the best mom-to-be that ever ever was).

Of course, children will have to deal with crazy no matter where they grow up, and hopefully I and others who have spent massive amounts of time and energy working out their histories and spreading the word about what true freedom really is will have made a bit of a dent in that crazy as well.

I still do feel the ambivalence–and perhaps I will for a long time–but it’s not nearly as extreme as it was at first.

As Thanksgiving approaches, my memories turn to times that, on the balance, were pretty stressful and unhappy. There were a few good things here and there, but most of my memories around this time of year involved my mother taking me and my brother to her parents’ house, separated from our father… and we would spend hours there, waiting for food, sometimes hungry, often bored… sometimes there would be fighting amongst the adults, always tension…

I would love to be able to go to that scene and enjoy it with people who were kind, caring, loved me and each other, and had that simple contentment of spending time with loved ones–you know, the scene trotted out by every damn Christmas special out there–but the reality is that most people don’t appear to like their families very much… there’s stress and tension and frustration and old wounds and humiliations and anger and sorrow… we’re supposed to be eating turkey, not bathing in cortisol!

The problem is that people want to sweep all of that under the rug… but then it never gets dealt with. Ever try to be honest in a setting where conformity to the fucking Hallmark card is the rule? It’s devastating, and you stuff your face because there’s nothing else to do–unless you want to get into a shouting match with somebody.

This year, I am alone. I tried inviting people but no such luck this time–perhaps next year will be different in this way.

I have no desire to get together with people for the sake of getting together with them… if holidays are meant to be about togetherness, then I will make them be about togetherness. If there isn’t anyone I can currently be together with, then I will be together with myself at least.

Incidentally, I do believe this is the first year that I can honestly say I am together with myself.

It has been an awful long time since i wrote anything substantial in this blog, and why the hell not?

The title of this blog, “Personal Archaeology,” is meant to indicate self-exploration and discovery… and I have been doing just that.

It’s just that… well… I have been spending time doing much more than writing or talking about it. Over the past year, I have started acting, I have been in therapy almost this entire time, and I have gained some really valuable friendships.

I am still doing my day job, of course, and will likely be doing it for a while. I am still pretty good at what I do and I don’t have any particular complaints about where I am, but I am still at a point where I don’t see it having much of a future for me, personally. That perspective (or lack thereof) has only solidified with the foray into acting!

So far, I have appeared in a couple of student films, one as an extra, the other as a pretty major speaking role. I’m looking forward to more work, of course, but I am quite happy with my progress so far. Apparently, I’m not that bad of an actor! I study and understand and can convey the characters, at least according to my last director and his teachers who have reviewed some of the footage

Dietarily, I’m still at around 250lbs. I’ve bounced up and down and around it, but I’m still in this ballpark. I think that has a lot to do with “cheating,” though–I’ve not been stalwart against Foods I Should Not Eat… and really, I don’t want to have to take that stance.

That said, wheat is bad news for me. I hadn’t had wheat for a few weeks until yesterday, and over the past 24 hours I have experienced a few breakouts, the corner of a rash that had been slowly healing turned bright red, and my bottom is irritated.

When it comes to food, sometimes I feel like one of those toy robots that runs into the walls outside the front of the toy stores in the mall. I mean, I really want to break that rule I have set up for myself: no wheat, no bread, no pizza, no etc., etc.

And I totally understand that there are alternatives… but if you know anything about these kinds of things, either from experience or closely knowing somebody who’s experienced it, then you know that the alternatives are relatively poor.

Also, there is more to wheat than gluten (this is covered in-depth elsewhere) and nearly all of the alternatives (certainly anything resembling a grain) has most–if not all–of the same issues as wheat, though it is probably gluten itself that is the main factor in the issues I’ve been experiencing.

So anyway… therapy! Holy crap, therapy… alright.

My experience of therapy and my experience of others who have spent time with a good therapist informs me that everybody should see a therapist…

The following is entirely my own opinion–however, I do believe I am correct in my opinion.

Looking for a therapist is a difficult thing. You’re looking for somebody that you can build a trust relationship with that can help you with your most difficult struggles, your most embedded thoughts, and your deepest feelings.

Knowing who to trust is really difficult if you have a history of being subject to untrustworthy people and have not been taught how to deal with such individuals.

One of the things I have noticed with some people on my facebook friends list is that they give Reasons X/Y/Z why they do not start looking for a therapist, and then say that self-therapy is the way to go.

For me, there is a considerable gap in their credibility.

The gap comes from a combination of my own experience with therapy and what I’ve observed about these people.

Throughout my adult life, I have spent considerable time and resources in therapy, looking for the right combination. All told, I have seen 6 therapists prior to finding my current therapist. They weren’t all entirely bad, but they were all more or less not very helpful in my goal of seeking healing and self-knowledge. The first 3 were sought out in my 20s and I ended up spending a lot more time and money with them before figuring out that they were not helping me (my family was also a tremendous impediment to self-knowledge). For the latter 3, I had access to FDR and was able to spend less time and resources on them because I had been doing some work on my own and had gained a little in the way of self-knowledge… but I still needed a good therapist, even after two and a half years of being around FDR.

From my own experience in therapy (almost at 10 months as of the time of this writing), I have experienced tremendous growth and am incredibly more relaxed and free to pursue my own life goals with the burdens of history lightened or removed. The depth of the work I am doing with my therapist, and the degree to which she is able to help me maintain presence in the sessions, is something that I just know I could never do on my own… and the main reason I know this is because I had not done this on my own.

Don’t believe my own self-reporting on my level of relaxation–ask my friends if I’m a better person to spend time around.

I believe that self-therapy ought to be a backup strategy if a professional therapist is not available… and by “not available,” I mean that you would be choosing between food and therapy, or you’re living in a country where finding a therapist in your native language is impossible, or some other extremity not covered here.

I also have absolutely no respect for the position that all therapists are corrupt, because this is simply not true. Either you have to explain how several people at FDR and elsewhere have found good therapists that they have found invaluable, or you have to admit that your standard of freedom from corruption is impossibly high.

Now, perhaps most therapists are corrupt… and this may well be true. Certainly the fact that I have spent significant time with 7 therapists throughout my adult life is a strong indicator of this fact, but I would hesitate to apply “corrupt” to every single one of them.

It so happens that I agree with Daniel Mackler on the point that many (if not most) therapists have unresolved issues from their own histories, but this is far from a reason to not seek out a therapist. I experienced this with 2 of the last 3 therapists that I saw prior to this one, and while it sucked, I got back on the horse eventually and found a good one.

Regarding religion and politics, the best therapist is one for which these things don’t matter. I don’t know what my therapist believes or how she votes (though I can take some educated guesses on these points), but the moral principles within the session are universal, logic and empiricism rule the day, and the art of the relationship is entirely open for exploration and discovery.

Be on the watch for absolute language which condemns everyone.

My particular absolutism was that any therapist I went to would reject me out of hand. The result of this was that I rejected all therapists out-of-hand… putting the onus on others for something I am doing myself is projection.

This is still something I struggle with, but I bring it up with my therapist, because it is a part of me that is self-rejecting, or is rejecting another part of me.

To sum up, my opinion on self-therapy is that it is a backup strategy to be employed if you are in an extremity where there are simply no other options. It is not to be relied upon as a primary strategy if you have not already spent time in therapy.

The effectiveness of self-therapy is severely limited until you have gained enough self-knowledge.

Sad little miss little Sally Conformity
So afraid to offend; to stop and take a stand
Spineless, gutless, cannot draw the moral bead
Will side with the snipers, hiding in their nest

Sad little sick little Sally Conformity
In your quest to not offend, you offend, and greatly
You lacquer your subservience with a veneer of civility
And place yourself in the middle until it’s time to choose sides

Sad little lickspittle Sally Conformity
Shining the jackboots ’til your mouth’s almost dry
Wagging your tongue, counseling the reasonable to “have reason”
Shove that tongue back in your asp.

Sad little poor little Sally Conformity
You betray honor and nobility and that to survive
You shall not be punished but your rewards will wear thin
You may find collaboration to be comfortable… so go and have comfort!

But do not pretend that what you do is noble… civil… right… good… honorable… just.

I really notice–feel, even–the quickening darkness of the end of summer.

I have even noticed it this year, and noticed as well the conjunction of depressive-type feelings arising here.

I made the decision to separate in early August, and carried it out by the beginning of September.

I have definitely noticed this pattern before, with depression starting a little before the fall, and dangerously deepening in the thick of winter, with reprieve being granted by the painstaking stretching of daylight, like a old tendon that’s not been moved for ages.

In the past, of course, I had several otherwise well-meaning people attempt to solve this problem for me. (“It sounds like you have Seasonal Affective Disorder. You should buy a sunlamp.”)

I never actually tried the sunlamp, though I did try other suggestions–the vast majority of which, by the way, did nothing to even alleviate symptoms, much less act as a cure.

What I really needed was a listener. I needed to be heard, to express my feelings–happy, sad, angry, afraid. I may still need to address a seasonal affliction, but it was never the highest priority to address.

It’s as if I had internal bleeding and some sort of rare lymph disorder… sure, the lymph disorder may be causing some problems but if the doctors don’t sort out the internal bleeding, I am going to die.

And, of course, this is what happens when you rely on the urban dictionary equivalent of WebMD.

With all that said, I find it really interesting that I’m noticing this minor depression of my mood now. After all, I’ve been in therapy for 8 months now, and while I’m not saying I’m cured, I’ve definitely made tremendous progress in self-knowledge. I’ve also spent nearly three years in non-contact with my family, which has proven to be a very healthy decision.

It could be something historical, something about how school would start in September, or something equally (or more) traumatic that I just don’t remember but is stored in my unconscious memories… or it could be a sensitivity to light! Without knowing more about myself, it’s really not possible for me to draw a conclusion.

Even if I don’t know why this is occurring for me, I can at least take note that it is occurring and be aware of how it affects me–most notably, I can probably expect to have less tolerance for negative stimuli and so can expect to feel frustration and irritation more quickly… and so I can then adjust my environment to help prevent these outcomes. In the past, without that knowledge (and in the more distant past, without any effective power), I would end up grinding down into depression, deeper and deeper, because without the knowledge (and power) I simply could not effect any change, or the change would be random and temporary.

I have been making progress with noticing in the moment when I’m feeling frustrated or irritated; I still end up acting out but I am able to catch it before it goes on for too long.

In therapy, we’ve repeatedly encountered one of my defenses–a part that engages in intellectual analysis. He usually steps in when there’s a question to another part about what their experience is or something else, and just yesterday I got the barest sense of what it was he was defending against–that is, why he has the job he has.

It’s yet to be fully explored but there is a great deal of fear beyond his analysis, almost to the point of terror. It was only when I was in the moment of experiencing the terror that I began to get a real sense of what this part feels like… because before, it didn’t feel any different. I didn’t notice when he came up, and I didn’t really feel any different when my therapist asked him to step aside for the time being (except that he did withdraw).

This makes a tremendous amount of sense, of course… if the body reaches a certain level of intense, constant pain, it will go into shock and shut down, even to the point of going into a coma. This intellectual defense is basically emotional shock.

I’ve finally done it!

I finally got my apartment cleaned!

One of the things I have struggled with lately (at least, somewhat consciously) is the utter lack of “basic” self-management skills. Things like keeping my living area somewhat in order; maintaining cleanliness of my dwelling; certain aspects of hygiene like shaving regularly; getting enough sleep; getting enough exercise; etc.

The reason I put “basic” in quotes, however, is that these skills would be acquired in a safe, nurturing, loving environment, which was simply not what I had. What I do have are fantastic management skills for an environment where the only two options are frustrated, unpredictable rage or massive, guilty depression.

What aptitudes I lack in normal behaviors I make up for in emotional management and projective capacities… all of which were essential for survival where I came from.

To put it another way, it is absolutely not the case that one day I sat down and decided that I preferred the behaviors that led to the lack of “basic” skills I now struggle to attain.

And you may ask, why do I want to gain these skills, or at least recognize and compensate appropriately for them?

It’s all for love and romance!

It’s for the future wifey… the friends I have and will make… the children I will hopefully father one day… for me to get out of my own way so that whoever it is that I am will shine through, because that’s the only real way to live, anyway.

Do you know the saddest thing about my family?

If they would have just slowed down and listened… I never would have left.

That’s all they would have had to do back then.

Just slow down… take a few minutes… and listen to what I had to say.

Can you imagine it? Instead of whipping past with all the conclusions and violence, just slowing down could have saved so much pain, so much anger, so much sadness and numbness–and not just on my part, but on theirs.

All they had to do was just slow down… stop… and listen.

It is just about the saddest thing I know in my life.

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