Recovery-- Take Three: Breakthrough!!!!

Today was not completely one where I fell off the wagon so to speak. I had a rough moment in the morning. I think its a cary over from last week. At lunch I heard this one song which strangely made me bo ho a bit. It was the 2006 song used for the movie Curious George. Its funny because I never thought that Curious George would make a grown man cry, but it did in 2009, it did last week and it did today. See in the opening of the movie George, the monkey, who was always very curious, is doing what he does in the jungle, getting into mischief as would any toddler, hence, Red Chief. The song by Jack Johnson, "Upside Down," in the background just to me fits my son's personality at this stage to a tee. So as I watched this for the first time, and NO my son is no monkey, the animation and the song to me were the perfect marriage of animation and real life. So when he went off to MI last summer with his mom, I boo hooed like there was no tomorrow. I wasn't "right" for about a week because I was alone. -- More about this in a bit.. Ok so, when he and his mom pulled the first vanishing act, I was watching this movie and listening to this song and I was just totaled. I mean those who saw me then, would have sworn that there was a bonafied death in my family. In a matter of speaking, it wasn't a death of a person, but my marriage, took what I felt then was a catastrophic hit. The mortal hit came in November. Well like I said, last week, as I and a friend were eating lunch, that song came on and as much as I tried to fight crying, I couldn't stop. At least it was controlled some. I wasn't falling out in the floor some six months ago but, I did do the sudden tear up thing. My lunch partner was trying to be nice I think because they said it must have been my allergies. Nope no such luck. So anyway, this past week I had Red Chief from Friday to Wednesday and you know, it was very much like Curious George. I was the man in the yellow hat and he was George, getting in to mischief just like the actual character. Friday was an adventure of sorts because I bought groceries as a single dad. Note to self and others who may have to experience this transition; never take a toddler to the grocery store on a Friday night. They will pressure you into buying everything you don't need or at least try. The first challenge was the shopping cart. He wants to get a shopping cart that looks like a truck or a racing car. Dad, well dad is like lets get in lets get out, I'm tired. What did we do, compromise. He rode in the basket part of the cart. Note to self: Don't let the child ride in the shopping cart because then they just have better access to grab every item off the shelf. -- Pushing the cart I'm like "No boy, No man, Come one dude, can you work with dad, please."-- This brings me to a quote the ex made in her first ever podcast. Many men have said similar things. Men, especially us black men, feel as though we must exert authority over hour homes. In fact I sounded more like W. Bush. "I do not negotiate with terrorist or toddlers!" I was proud when I said that... In I was about to have a custom made tee shirt saying that. I'm so glad I didn't because guess what I was doing Friday night. No it wasn't a hostage negotiation, it was a toddler negotiation. Son, if we do this, can you please assure me that you will not do that. Ok, I'll release a few dollars (aka my hostages) if you if you can give me some assurances that you will not grab the next pot. I tried hard to be like Tommy Lee Jones in the Fugitive. There is this particular scene where he shoots the guy who takes one of his US Marshals hostage, narrowly missing his own Marshall. He tells the shocked rookie agent this. "Which ear can you hear out of? Good, listen to me. I don't bargain." Trust me, as a parent, a rookie single parent at that, you will make more deals than a game show host for peace and quiet. Don't believe me? Try it out for a few months. You will be surprised at your new found flexibility. No don't get me wrong; there are some deal breakers and no brainers. "No boy, you must hold my hand when walking across the street." "No little boy, bedtime is at 9:00." "No boy, you do not hit your mom or dad or even the dog!" "No boy, we cannot take this item out the store until we pay for it!" See these no brainers build life skills and in some cases can even save your child's life. Here is one particular no that is just unbreakable. It is an absolute must. "No. Under no circumstances do you open the door for anybody. If someone knocks on the door, you just come get me." "NO, you do not cut on the gas stove!" "No you do not put coins or items in the electrical sockets." So in a nutshell, things that keep your child safe and CPS from inquiring about your parenting skills are an absolute must. Sunday, we went over the door and the stove. Next time, stranger danger. Now, on to today. Yes I did have a minor tear up. In fact I decided to watch Curious George to try to get it all out my system. As I cried myself to sleep, it dawned on me, I can't do anything from a bed of tears. I can't even take care of myself let alone my son. So what do I do? This is again where I have to go back to the baby steps mantra. Put one foot in front of the other, and soon you will be walking out the door. Which is exactly what I did. I filed more job apps today. Regrettably they were out of state. For me, rt now, a job is a job and 1/2 of a job is better than no job at all. After I did that, I decided to go to the gym. I think I am now beginning to understand why people look better after a divorce or separation. There has got to be some type of release of the negative energy. In my case, with time on my hands, still getting a check (which really is a blow to my self esteem) it's either go to the gym or get grossly obese. Well like I said, I've decided to do the later. Getting obese is not an option. My grandfather would come out of the grave and pimp slap me up and down. As opposed to withering away to nothing, I am a muscular, athletically tone 175. I am able to run three miles in 28 mins, bench press 235 squat 225 and dead lift 355. So at 175 I can move 815 lbs. Strangely I am beginning to like powerlifting. I find it relaxing and somewhat cathartic. As I set mini goals for myself, they are tangible and I can see the results. So for me, the goal is to be able to dead lift 405 by my 40th birthday-- July 27th. The way I see it, I'm only 45 lbs off. I also want my dissertation to be finished by my 40th bday. However, one must contend with the nonsense of paperwork. I can't call it nonsense exactly, because I am interviewing human subjects, this paperwork is vital. It is my IRB paperwork or Internal Review Board. For the newly initiated, here is what that means. As a scientist (yes I am what is considered a social scientist) like any living creature, life must be protect at all costs. The first rule of human subjects research is this: DO NO HARM. Second rule: Don't ever forget rule number 1. This is relevant because there have been some rouge scientist who have initiated some shadowy research ( all in the name of science). Nurenburg and Tuskegee. Need I say more. So anyway, my research protocol has to clear my university IRB before I can begin any research. In my case, any interviews. My research subjects must receive what is called Informed Consent. Informed consent is simply this: they know the risks of the project and can choose to not participate in any form of the project without penalty. Again, in my case, the subjects will be asked to relive their experiences of the Duke Lacrosse Rape case. For some it might be traumatic meaning they might start balling. Or if I were an interview subject lets say on domestic violence, though I might be a good research candidate, for me to have to relive the whole domestic violence stuff might make me a little upset, hence why I can choose to bail out at any time. But lets get back to this recovery thing because I actually made a breakthrough about two weeks ago. One of my friends shared with me why he thought I was having trouble adjusting.
SEPARATION ANXIETY-- How about that? In the midst of a separation, I am going through separation anxiety. When he said that--strangely everything clicked. Lets play the degrees of separation game no pun intended.
As a child, I saw my mom and dad split up at the age of 7. Hmm ok that's one. As a child, I saw my mom leave me with her parents a few months later right when I turned 8. Hmm ok that's two. At the age of 8, when I saw my dad after the separation and he had to leave, I went to pieces. Hmm thats three. From ages 9-14 things were pretty constant. -- wait a min, I just forgot one: When my mom went to Europe in 1983; how does one explain the concept of overseas travel to a 12 year old? I didn't matter to me that she was going away for a week, she was leaving me again. My mom elected to move to Knoxville, TN (again to work on her Ph.D) I bawled. Hmm that's four. When I was 16 and I pretty much demanded to stay in Va with my grandparents after summer break, and my grandmother said I was going back, I took that as rejection and bawled again. Hmm thats five. Ok going for degree six, when I was 18, my mom again left and this time went and stayed in Atlanta for year (note to readers, she did return every two weeks) I broke down. Even my boy, my chief running partner couldn't cheer me up as we rode through the Hunting Ridge golfing community blasting public enemy waking folks at ungodly hours. OK, I think I am beginning to see a pattern. Not that I am indicting my mom. She was doing what she had to do. But in the process, apparently what I saw happening, was that a deeply seeded notion of being left behind has been a constant. When my mother's lover died I was 25, I was no good then but I recovered much faster. Even with break ups with women I recovered much faster. But in matters with people who are highly significant people who are at my epicenter, my mother, my wife, child, when they go, particularly for extended periods of time it frightens me. When my wife went off to Spain for a week, I was severely hurt because it symbolized my family being broken up, this time playing out in my adult life. It was weird: she was going off to Europe, the baby was going to Fayetteville, (i had no choice in the matter) and I was in Durham. I remember so clearly now. As she and the boy were driving some 70 miles to fayetteville to drop him off with her parents, I broke the land speed record and a few other speeding laws to get there--why, because I didn't want to see my family split up. And guess what happened, as I sit here and type: my family is split up anyway. I can't believe it. After two years of psychotherapy, and six months of post marital therapy, and quite a few dollars later, I learned in 10 mins from an Alpha of all people (I'm a member of the most illustrious organization Kappa Alpha Psi Inc) what I never came to terms with for more than half my life. I actually have separation anxiety, along with Anxiety Disorder NOS. Now I know why I took such issue with my dad, meaning, I wanted to do things different. In actuality, I really should take issue with my mother because what was happening to me, what has happened to me, what I live with daily ironically is oppression the female sex, well maybe thats stretching it. I don't think my mom was intentionally trying to oppress me, but her actions made me more than dependent, I'm codependent. It just so happens that the gender pool is not in my favor which is why I think I had to fight for a lot of things that are near, dear and valuable to me. In the case of my oppressive supervisor at NCSSM, it was my job and my sense of independence. In my mother, it was and still is my sense of identity. In my wife (don't know if she will be ex or not yet) its my future as a husband and even parent. These three women played crucial roles in my development. Now how do I make peace with all three.