holiday wrap up vol. 1
It’s been exactly a month since I last posted. I haven’t really known what to say. I needed some space between what just happened and what the inevitable conclusions were going to be. But here goes a few:
-I accomplished nothing in the visit. I didn’t work nearly as much as I should have, or wanted to. But this is because in less than a few hours off the plane I slipped effortlessly back into the horribly unhealthy life I was living before.
-I laughed so hard for so long that I was surprised at how absent that type of reckless abandon of a serious demeanor had become in my life. Shit, I almost choked to death laughing with Bruce at work every day.
-It sounds bad to say it out loud, but I was counting on one thing above all else: I thought when I got back to MI I would feel like I was finally back home. But I never felt that way. I was constantly aware of a misplaced center from day one to the day I left. I walked around in a dream state, asleep at the wheel more like it, and I’m partially to blame for that.
I was back for a month, that’s a long time. Especially when I’ve been in my own little space with no one to disturb the ruts I have so carefully worn. The shock of living in my parents house was enough to send me reeling…imagine four OCS people living together. Then picture that I Am the only OCS person and that it was so hard for me to handle sharing my personal space that I slept on couches three of four weeks. I’m a weird guy—more so than before. Now that I’ve got my own little Petri dish here in Texas my bizarre behavior is truly idiosyncratic.
The way that my friends all seemed to slip back into their previous roles that they played made me feel a bit like I’m a bad influence. Bart said to me last summer—or maybe two summers ago, it’s all so blurry—that the FBI would classify me as a “catalyst.” That’s about the size of it. Every day, whom ever I was with, gave up a little bit of the progress they’d made in their life and took two steps backward with me and in 99% of the time a large amount of booze as well. This was what it must look like when a couple makes a last ditch effort to rekindle or preserve a relationship as it had previously existed. All that time I was carrying on like I was partying, when I was just adding a fog to cover the deep sense of not belonging anymore. We, as a peer group, could not continue on as we had been. There needed to be some growth, and some space so each member could build a life independent of the whole. I feel a bit like I had to be absent for that growth to take place…
We can’t go back to the way it was. The future is so unsure, the past so steady and reliable. I got pushed forward last month. I’m rolling ahead now, and the view in the mirror is so faded that I have to stare at it for too long and almost crash.
-I accomplished nothing in the visit. I didn’t work nearly as much as I should have, or wanted to. But this is because in less than a few hours off the plane I slipped effortlessly back into the horribly unhealthy life I was living before.
-I laughed so hard for so long that I was surprised at how absent that type of reckless abandon of a serious demeanor had become in my life. Shit, I almost choked to death laughing with Bruce at work every day.
-It sounds bad to say it out loud, but I was counting on one thing above all else: I thought when I got back to MI I would feel like I was finally back home. But I never felt that way. I was constantly aware of a misplaced center from day one to the day I left. I walked around in a dream state, asleep at the wheel more like it, and I’m partially to blame for that.
I was back for a month, that’s a long time. Especially when I’ve been in my own little space with no one to disturb the ruts I have so carefully worn. The shock of living in my parents house was enough to send me reeling…imagine four OCS people living together. Then picture that I Am the only OCS person and that it was so hard for me to handle sharing my personal space that I slept on couches three of four weeks. I’m a weird guy—more so than before. Now that I’ve got my own little Petri dish here in Texas my bizarre behavior is truly idiosyncratic.
The way that my friends all seemed to slip back into their previous roles that they played made me feel a bit like I’m a bad influence. Bart said to me last summer—or maybe two summers ago, it’s all so blurry—that the FBI would classify me as a “catalyst.” That’s about the size of it. Every day, whom ever I was with, gave up a little bit of the progress they’d made in their life and took two steps backward with me and in 99% of the time a large amount of booze as well. This was what it must look like when a couple makes a last ditch effort to rekindle or preserve a relationship as it had previously existed. All that time I was carrying on like I was partying, when I was just adding a fog to cover the deep sense of not belonging anymore. We, as a peer group, could not continue on as we had been. There needed to be some growth, and some space so each member could build a life independent of the whole. I feel a bit like I had to be absent for that growth to take place…
We can’t go back to the way it was. The future is so unsure, the past so steady and reliable. I got pushed forward last month. I’m rolling ahead now, and the view in the mirror is so faded that I have to stare at it for too long and almost crash.
posted by texas_wolverine at 10:15 PM
1 Comments:
Dom, it was pretty obvious that you were strugling with a lot of things while you were here. The first trip back home after you leave may be the hardest trip you ever make in your life. Even though you moved out of the house years ago it you were still close by and could always come this way to fill in the gaps. Now you have to fill them in in your own way on your own terms. We are here to help if you need it and will wait patiently and joyfully as you find your way.
Love you,
dad
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