The good, the bad and the downright fugly

It took me many years to figure this much out, strangely. I am not normally considered stupid, nor do I consider myself so but ….. behaviours learned as a child, revolted against and suppressed, come back to haunt you in the sneakiest of ways. They creep in under the skirting boards of our consciousness like a colourless, odourless, poison gas. Unless we learn to recognise these reactions and behaviour sets, worse still if we are not even aware of them, the effects upon our lives can be both profound and unpleasant. This has been apparent to me for a while now but the realisations keep developing. I have had help along the way and part of the purpose of this piece is to give thanks to several people for their help and assistance.

The last 12 months of my life have brought many very significant realisations, principally because I was presented with a rather "interesting" set of circumstances.

Someone, with his own wisdom, presented me with a mental virus, a thought that has been persistent and impossible to completely dismiss. The thought that, in his words, my "neediness" was driving away those I loved. I know now that he did not truly understand me but he understood that I was, in some ways, fundamentally fucked up. As much as that mental virus might have been needed, his method of implanting it; when I had not long been unexpectedly diagnosed to be in the terminal phase of cancer and as a very unwell hospital in-patient - the "lecture" was delivered with me in a wheelchair and him standing is something I have struggled to forgive. He was highly convincing and left me utterly isolated, unable to seek help from those close to me for fear of appearing "needy": and driving them further away. I came very close to taking my own life as a result, that evening, so worthless I felt. Perhaps he thought that this was the only way of planting it to achieve sufficient effect to be worthwhile. I do not know. I will not ask.

He had, unknown to me, discussed what he was to say with my son and gained his acceptance for his actions. The potential for the effect of this action on my son (I found out about the discussions many months later) is not something I will ever truly forgive.

I thank him for the stimulus but not for the risky and foolhardy method of delivery.

I was under the distinct impression that I was dying and felt utterly alone.

When I considered ending my own life using about 40 sleeping pills (easy enough to obtain as an in-patient) I did so by asking myself a simple question: "Is going on with life worth it?"

The answer, clearly, was yes but it had a caveat behind it: "only if I am going to LIVE what is left of my life".

I knew, from realisations over the previous three years (the latter years of my life have been quite full of revelations), that there is a joy to life, that its not about "getting through it" - its about living it, feeling it, experiencing it. The good, the bad and the ugly. Experiencing the highs and the lows. An anodyne existence is just that - an existence, not a life. I have an ex-lover to thank for that. I won't name her although if she reads this, I am thanking her here, now and openly. She opened my eyes to life and for that I will be forever in her debt.

So, I thought, what to do?

I realised that if I was to achieve the emotional balance required to deal with what was coming with sanity, rationality and any sense of joy at what remained, I would have to address some deep seated emotional issues that I could dimly detect by the shadows they cast but could neither fully identify nor comprehend.

Clearly I needed a guide in the exploration of my own internal landscape. An initial attempt with a Clinical Psychologist based in the local hospice led to difficulty. Scarcely an uplifting location, given my situation, The gentleman was highly competent, without doubt, but I felt no connection with him. The approach, the person was too …. clinical.

So I asked around. I was very fortunate. A good friend was able to recommend someone from whom she, and her sisters, had obtained significant help. Thank you Sarah.

I made contact and started counselling sessions with someone who suited me. Professional but not clinical and excellent at what she does. Message me if you want a referral. I cannot recommend her highly enough.

With her assistance and the help of several platonic female friends - see "Marko's Women" elsewhere in this blog - I came, progressively, to understand myself better, to appreciate the value of those parts of me that are good and worthwhile and to re-evaluate other parts of me, especially several learned behaviours that have caused me much trouble throughout my life.

Please forgive the wordy introduction but …. I felt that is was time to air the first part of this story in the round. Reasonable context, in this piece was, and will again be, required.

This piece is about my damage, the damage I took and the damage I dished out reacting to that. Its about being honest with myself as well as you and trying, in my own way, to help others who may be suffering similar issues and conditions. I suspect I am far from unique.

The root of the problem

I wasn't very well loved as a child. My mother was a depressed mess for much of my childhood and largely rejected both my sister and myself. She got help, I think, when I was about 7 or 8 and, thinking of it now it seems to me that although she was never really "well" she did find a little more joy in life. She doted on my younger brother and he grew up much better adjusted, in some ways, to my sister and I. By then I had come to distrust any of the words of love, expressed to me in later childhood. They always seemed to come with a conditional clause - it seemed to me that they were used to reassure before a parental demand, not just in and of themselves as affection. They were used as a verbal tool. A carrot to accompany the stick.

Our parents often discussed us while we were in the same room. We were not included in these conversations and commanded to remain silent. Discussing our fecklessness, laziness, poor deportment, lack of intelligence and other such criminal tendencies in our presence seemed appropriate to them. They also discussed significant decisions made on our behalf in our hearing in unflattering terms. The discussion that led to the decision to send me away to a boarding school at the age of 9 is one that I recall well. It took place during the school holidays in the upstairs drawing room of my Uncle's house in Anstruther in Fife, after dinner. I remember listening while I solemnly, silently , and it seems to me in retrospect, ironically, played patience with some rather dog eared old pack of Waddington's that were hard to shuffle since they were so worn as to more resemble toast than playing cards. These were considered suitable entertainment for me after dinner when my parents liked us to be present but silent. The deciding factor supporting the decision seemed to be to have "some sense and manners beaten into me".

I left home at 16 and never again lived with my parents. It took me 4 years to even visit them after I left.

So...... focus in.

First we have strolled through the early open land of youth, looked at the scenery and moved toward the dark forest. Todays walk will take us down my own darkest path, my deepest damage. The path narrows. Follow me if you will.

First time out

My wife was my second love. My first had been a much shorter term relationship (around 4 months) and was mostly conducted at a long distance. Looking back I do not think this particular learned behaviour had much chance to cut in.

The presentation of the issue

It became clear to me that my marriage was dead long before it ended. I felt unloved, controlled, taken for granted and, in some ways abused. Whether I was or not is a matter of debate. The truth is never just one truth. Emotionally though that is my truth.

How did it get to that?

This is all retrospective. Some of it, given the elapsed time, may be wrong or misremembered (our relationship lasted a long time, its a while ago). Nor has it been assisted by my wife's recollections, she has always refused to discuss the breakdown of the marriage or its reasons.

It seems to me that there are many reasons but I can now acknowledge my part in its overall destruction and understand how and even why my part of that happened. There were many things that went wrong over the years that were to do with my actions but most of them correlate to a loss of faith, by me, in the nature of our relationship. Without realising it I started to withdraw, emotionally. My wife made demands of me, increasingly, during the first two years of our marriage. She seemed to stop being openly affectionate and such expressions of affection that did take place often seemed to be accompanied by a demand of some sort. That triggered a retreat response in me. I felt under threat, emotionally. In some ways, and to some part of me, it was like I was living, once more, with my mother. I stopped being "myself". Eventually I lost the joy from my life. I became a miserable bastard. I got on with earning, drank too much and mostly kept my tongue still except to try to keep the peace.

I had ceased to feel loved or cherished. I thought I was was simply useful. I earned. I could be trusted for support, emotionally and financially, with her issues. I would do pretty much anything asked of me, until the final 2 years when I rebelled. I had given my solemn oath to remain with this woman and I raised a child to adulthood with her. I had committed and remained so but I became disengaged. When she left me, I did not want her back. Mostly what I felt in her company, toward the end, was misery at what she, I and the relationship had become.

Do not be mistaken here, There were many positives. My son, whom I love deeply. She supported the development of my career which has, and still remains, successful. I never stopped trying to help her, even after she left me. I only stopped talking to her when I realised that our mutual behaviours were so set in stone that it was continuing to damage me remaining in contact with her. Its hard to change yourself when the past pulls you back into programmed patterns of behaviour, established over decades, with the person you know best and with whom you have the most history.

Second Strike

My third love definitely fell victim to a related and consequent issue. This, like the first, was conducted at a long distance. By then I thought knew what I needed in a relationship: love, joy, contribution as an equal partner and not just to be an earning cipher. I certainly knew many of things I didn't want. I was very much in love and wanted little but to be with her. It was complicated, long distance and sporadic: the circumstances were utterly beyond my control. Eventually I gave her an ultimatum which reflected my needs and clashed with hers. Safe to say it didn't work out. I never lived with her and although my reflection of my needs (you may call longing to be with the one you love "needy" - I rather choose to to call it what love is about) could be seen as a mistake (and in functional terms it was) it was simply me asking for what I needed, albeit in a non negotiable form. There were reasons for that ultimatum. I wont detail them here except to say that I felt that my life had become an intolerable limbo where love and affection happened always to someone else's timetable (in fairness dictated by the necessities of her life not by her choice) and where even her intentions had become highly uncertain. It was an unreasonable demand. I tried to force her to make a decision. Not to go one way or another, just to make a decision. I wasn't the only one to make mistakes but that action effectively ended the relationship. Under different circumstance it might have worked but it was clear to me that as it was it could never be what I needed.

Up to that point in my life I had only "lived" with one woman, my wife. It is fair to say that the behaviours that were learnt in childhood were reinforced in marriage. The end of the third relationship was as a result of the reaction against the reasons for the ending of the second coupled with a stark realisation that "if only" isn't "is" unless you can get it moved from "isn't" to "is". That movement requires a minimum of the two people principally involved: under certain, more unfortunate, circumstance, it involves more complexity and far more constraints. By that time I was sufficiently self aware to see what I needed and what didn't need. Being the "other man" was something I really didn't need and found I really could not cope with long term.

Then I got ill.

So, what lessons have I learned. Did I "fix" myself and if so how?

The answer isn't simple.

Some things I have managed to resolve completely but they are few enough. Some things I am still discovering. I mostly understand the "why" and the "what" now.

The majority of my negative learned behaviours I have learned to manage to the extent that they do not damage my current relationship. They are still there, too deep ground in to be completely eradicated but …. in managing to stop them propagating into effects I feel a certain satisfaction. I laugh a lot these days, surprisingly. I feel joy often. I love and am loved. I feel of worth. The particular issue discussed here is "under management" and I watch myself carefully.

When I feel the need to withdraw, I pause, note it and re-engage after a moments thought. I am lucky in my partner. We don't make demands of the other. Neither of us wishes to. We are happy to quite simply be: in silence or in conversation there is affection and love. We talk but its not always needed. Even a simple touch on the shoulder as you pass each other in a room is often worth far more than words, if its meant from the heart.

If I am to draw any lessons for myself and for you, dear reader, from this tale of madness, despair, triumph, turbulence and peace, then they are as follows:

@ Parents: NEVER make your love for your children conditional. Build them up, don't break them down. They belong in a family and not at bootcamp. Your love for them should never be a matter of negotiation. If it is you arent yet fit to be a parent.
@ Spouses/Partners 1: if you feel that you need to withdraw, make sure you really understand why before doing so. If you don't know why then don't allow yourself to disengage until you understand and are happy with your own reasons for doing so.
@ Spouses/Partners 2: if your partner objects to something you have said as being hurtful, listen. The chances are that they really do mean it. Only thought and discussion will allow you both to understand whether that has more "validity and logic" than a feeling but, if meant, it is a valid feeling. Don't belittle it with "you are being over-sensitive". Dismissal is the same as failing to care. Repeated dismissal becomes abuse from the one you love.
@ Spouses/Partners 3: NEVER make your love for your lover conditional except in one thing. If you love them, truly, then that is not conditional upon them doing what you want them to. Its only conditional on them being what they are, the one you love.
@ Everyone: DONT allow yourself to be ruled by your knee-jerk reactions. Think, clearly. Understand first. Then act.