Today I spent a few hours babysitting my grandson. I loved it more than I ever thought I would. One thing though that struck me hard, how helpless and small he was. Also how willing to trust me and fall peacefully asleep in my arms.

There was many a year that I spent berating my younger self for allowing the abuse to continue and not speaking out. I felt he was broken and I was angry with him, my small younger self.

As I stared into the tiny trusting eyes and the precious little face, it hit me hard and I began to tear up realizing how helpless, small, weak and clueless I was as a child in the middle of such evil. What else could I have done except survive and try to keep things from becoming worse?

I was just a kid, what did I know of such things or the ramifications of such a wounding of the soul. What does a child know of such things? So once again I feel the need to forgive my younger self. We don't know, what we don't know.

I survived.

Sorry, this is late, I've been struggling with some health issues. I'm over the worst of it I hope and will be back on a regular basis.

I've been sharing a little with my wife about the book I've been reading. I've mentioned it before in a recent thread. It's a novel approach to healing of sexual brokenness. It's been an eye-opener and as I've looked back at the various behaviors I've fallen into I've realized there was a definite pattern I was playing out through it all.  I've discussed some of this with my wife, things I felt pertinent to our situation and it's brought us to a closer understanding of each other's lives.

This is important to me because it has opened up a possibility of deepening our connection with each other. I find myself more patient with her sharing which she loves to do constantly. Well, maybe a little more patient, it's work but work I now want to do because it's important. I'm still working to opening up to her more but it's now a goal.

And just so you know, it's not like we are all agreeing on everything but I'm noticing less stress when we disagree. I'm trying not to shut her down and walk away as much as I used to. I think shes noticed.

I need connection, she does too. We both go at it differently but I'm working on changing my part. I suspect she will follow suit eventually also.

Triangulation syndrome

I've been reading this book, "Unwanted" by Jay Stringer. There's more to the title and I'll try and post it on the site's recommended books. He talks about how sometimes a parent can make a child their idol and become enmeshed emotionally and sometimes more, than with their spouse. I'll quote the paragraph that jumped out at me and got me thinking about me and dad.

"The other way childhood triangulation affects marriage is when you have separated from your parent, but then find yourself incapable of creating an intimate, lasting connection with your spouse. In this example, you find yourself resistant to deep connection, fearing you will be trapped or used all over again. You project onto your spouse that he or she is asking you to play the same enmeshed role your parent did. Once the projection is made, you feel justified, once more, to pursue unwanted sexual behavior."

I suspect the reason for my attachment problem which I shared with my wife, (who btw says explains a lot), is because my dad began using me for his physical intimacy in place of mom. I made no demands, laid no expectations on him and wasn't likely to complain if he wasn't interested. While I felt special and pleased with the secret attention and would imagine it was more than it was, it came at a price. 

Now that I see this I need to work on how to repair it if possible. I may just need to help on this one. I've carried it for a long time. 

Just my thoughts

Attachment

My wife was complaining the other day that she wants more connection with me. She feels left behind in our relationship. 

I've thought about this a lot yesterday and remembered a book I once read on Attachment disorder. I think I do have this. I never got very attached to my mom. I loved her and I think she loved me but I had no problem leaving her and going off on my own at all. Same with my dad. My sis and I were never really close and often were at odds with each other growing up.

In fact, I can't remember ever being attached or feeling really connected to any degree with anyone. Everyone was at an invisible arms distance. I suspect I really don't know how to really connect with anyone. Could this be some form of Narcissism?

UGH.

And if that's the case, what do I do to change it? Can it be changed? Perhaps my hardware needs a reboot. Or maybe it's my software, the real me inside this hardware I'm walking around in. IDK

And could this be part of the damage from the years of abuse? Something to think about isolated at home.

Just my thoughts

Why me?

I suppose we all have asked that question from time to time. I pretty much know why me. My father had a predilection for boys. I was born to him and mom and I'm sure he probably wrestled with his demon for some time before giving in. But once he did it was over and my life changed forever. That was my beginning and life as I understood it as a child.

But later, others began to approach me even though I never told anyone. I began to wonder if there was something about me that just screamed: "take me"? It happened so often and in so many different places that I thought maybe there was someone on my forehead that I couldn't see but certain others could.

In talking to others over the years I've discovered similar stories. It's been a topic of discussion several places about whether there is some look or attitude or stereotype that gets targeted that we all fit in.

Whether or not it's the case, it's the cards I was dealt with and now that I'm adult, the choice is mine to be a victim or victorious over it all. It took me a while but I've chosen the latter and have been much happier ever since. Like a friend of mine once said: I won't live in fear, but I won't live in stupid either.

Every day is a new choice and a new victory.

January has always been a difficult month for me. It's the month so many life-changing things happened. I admit I've not always handled it well. This past January and February was no exception.

That said, I've found a peace that I was not expecting. I've learned or been forced to learn to lean on my faith and my wife for support. I wish I could say all my close friends were there for me but I really don't have any. That's my fault. I don't reach out and I'm not good and making friends. A life long habit of keeping secrets and people at a distance is difficult to break.

We've just made the move to a new church and it occurs to me that this might be a good time to start developing some relationships with neighbors and good men in our new fellowship. Maybe it's time to let others see more of the real me. I know that I've never felt so isolated as I had this last month and it didn't feel good.

I can learn a lot from others and perhaps it's not too late to find a few good dependable friends. I know at my age group there still are some good people out there. Being alone felt safe but it really wasn't. And perhaps safe is not a good way to live anyway. That's just existing and I'm finding I really want to live.

Just my thoughts.

Fallout

My son took his own life last month from depression probably caused by being off his meds and family problems. He just couldn't cope. He was 48 years old and had a history of emotional and mental problems. He came into my life during the worst times of me dealing or rather not dealing with the effects of my own abuse from my father. I pushed him away and tried to avoid dealing with him and anything else due to deep denial. By the time I realized I had serious problems and began to seek help, he was already in his late teens and into drugs and alcohol.

While I wish I had sought help sooner, I just had not had any luck with counsellors and psychologists. The one time I was asked about my relationship with my father, I couldn't speak and almost passed out in her office. I never went back.

I can't help blaming myself for much of his early problems. I just was not ready to be a father and I knew it. It's a terrible tragedy and I will live with the regrets and remorse for failing him for the rest of my life. This stuff is far more damaging than I could ever have believed. There is much collateral damage from childhood sexual abuse, more than can be realized in one lifetime.

I did much better with my second son born eight years later. It's one of my better qualities that I can learn from my errors.