Sadness

When I'm feeling really stuck in life. When I'm having a bad day for whatever reason. When I feel
"off."

I've come to realize its mostly because I'm sad. Funny, how even saying something so simple, "I'm sad sometimes," feels so incredibly vulnerable.

It's funny, because being sad is a basic human emotion. It's something that is as natural and as normal as breathing.

So what's the big deal and how does it relate to kids growing up with absent fathers?

When I think about the idea of an adorable little human being not having one or both parents, there is nothing more sad to me.  That anguish of being 2 or 3 years old and instinctively knowing that there is a huge hole in the very foundation of who you are. That little boy, not knowing or understanding why, just alone, with no words or arts to express their feelings. Helpless, hopeless and at the effect of a scary world without the masculine presence of their father.

Paralyzed by the Reliance on Doing Everything Alone

I find myself paralyzed with moving forward sometimes. I have this feeling that every opportunity that comes my way is a once and only opportunity. And, if I mess it up, it will be the only chance I ever get.

It's this odd combination of perfection, mandatory success now, fear that it will never happen, and a
harsh focus on what I'm not doing and what is currently wrong.

I feel captive to the frustration and the emotions and the fear.

Overall, I see that it is a mistrust of spirit or God and a complete reliance on my self to create everything in my life, all the time, every time.

I'm tired of doing life this way. I'm exhausted by the experience of having to produce everything in my life all by myself.

Drama, Drama, Drama

Would you call yourself a procrastinator, while others might call you an overachiever? Do others
marvel at your achievements while you relate to yourself as lazy?

Do you need deadlines and goals to "motivate" yourself and keep you from complete withdrawal?

Lots of questions here, but what we are really looking at is what drives you. Recently, I have uncovered how much I am driven by drama. People wouldn't neccesarily call me dramatic, but I thrive on drama. Drama in my finances, drama in my fitness, drama in my eating, even drama in going to the bathroom.

What I mean by drama is that I'm constantly running from a cycle of achieve/avoid/achieve/avoid/achieve/avoid.  It's like I need the drama in order to take action. If I don't see the immediate payoff I put it off.

Road Rage, Shame and Freedom

My wife honked her horn, a light tap, aimed at the car in front of her today to remind him that the light had turned green.

The guy immediately became upset and carried it with him down the road, looking over at us, arms flailing with an angry face, as if she had just punched him in the stomach and ran away.

I probably would have reacted similarly to the angry guy in that moment, reacting with a "Have a little patience," or "Screw you, I'm going." The thing I've learned is that these moments are so silly, so arbitrary, that they must be triggering something deeper inside of us.

Picky Eaters and Control Freaks

I hate mayonnaise! I didn’t eat a taco or even touch a salad until I was 16. My mom had the hardest time trying to cook anything that I would eat growing up.

It’s one of the few things I could control as a kid, what I put into my mouth. What I couldn’t control was that people who are supposed to love me (like my dad), sometimes abandon you, physically and emotionally.

As a kid, my automatic reaction was to figure out how to avoid having that happen, EVER again. Having control, I thought gave me safety from others who I couldn’t rely on. No reliance meant no danger.

I sought “safety” in two ways:

1.  I controlled myself so I was never too much or too little of anything like a hyper vigilant drill sergeant. This way no one would get disappointed in me and leave.