Life Everlasting

Release is important to say the least. Without release, pressure will build and as that happens, you will eventually run the risk of some type of blow out. Be it a heart attack, or a stroke, cancer, stress is no fun. Stress can kill you. I recently heard of a guy who was a few years younger than me who suffered a stroke. On my dad’s side of the family, they rarely died from cancer but, strokes, heart attacks, well, I am genetically predisposed. Chalk that up for another reason I go to the gym, my health. As far as my sanity, the gym helps me with that too. Writing is another form of release. But right now, the best release is learning the new sport of weight lifting, which is why am seeking the assistance of a weight lifting coach.

Speaking of which, I actually made contact with two Olympic competitors and one has written me back with excellent information. I am so grateful. If that works out, man I am going to be so psyched! I get to learn something new and really apply my strength gains. I also went the other day and purchased some new weight lifting straps. I hate breaking in new straps because you have a tendency to do as I did, drop the weights, which is not too cool. Its early June and right now I am at 365 pounds – what I currently dead lift, so I am about 35 pounds away from my 40th birthday goal, 400 pounds. I am hoping that these new straps can help me but like any weight lifting goal there has to be some preparation, otherwise one can wined up on their back with a bad back. So one has got to properly warm up, stretch, (I now a have greater appreciation for Mr. Wood, my 7th grade gym teacher and assistant football coach). Last night as I was breaking in my new straps, warming up with 315 pounds, I really had to govern myself. Again, failure to do so as it did last night wound up in not being able to control my weight on the bar. Other lifts I have been working on include the push press—which right now I am up to 185 pounds. The Olympic lift (which I really shouldn’t be doing in a commercial gym) I am now able to complete 155 pounds max. I think this is divided into the clean and jerk, but then again, I need a coach. Multiple reasons here: the first is form. I must learn the form. Failure to learn the form is like planning to fail. Second, it will help me to prevent injury. Third, I think it will also provide an avenue for peer coaching.

On a professional note, while waiting for the IRB, I got note on my first teaching assignment for the up coming semester. Right now its one class but opportunity, well its where is where you mine it. As with where I was prior to, it started with two classes, then three, then summer school, then a full load. What I like about this is that I am actually going to be doing it on my own. No help from the family just me. That is gratifying. In my crazy way of thinking, there will be no more straw people, strictly me, that too can be seen as a form of liberation. I will be writing my first syllabus within a year and I will be teaching among folks who have read the texts I’ve read, and know the things I know. That’s going to be emotionally lifting, while intellectually, simply a high. Now back to the other part of the sitcom called my life, dysfunction junction, also known as the separation.

The other part of release, when in the middle of a separation, some days your ex will rock your body and your last nerve, and I don’t mean that in a Justin Timberlake way. In my case, I can’t blame the ex as much as I blame the disorder for causing my ex to do things that to me are really off the chain. Without going into the details, the one thing I have had to learn is always expect the unexpected. Just the other day there was an issue on the table with Red Chief and of course, with the ill communication it drove me to finally say enough. Enough, enough enough. Yesterday, I just had to speak my mind, what little I have left at this point. I think what had me properly pissed was the fact that now my own words were being used against me. I am like, come on already. Enough with the games, I don’t have time for them. I just don’t. So as calmly as I could, I responded as professionally as professionality would allow. The one thing I can say as the fog lifts, there is a type of new found knowledge that you gain. You start learning words like rationalization, manipulation, minimization, diversion, projection, and, guilt tripping. Needless to say, these were just some of the thoughts that came from my fingers and hit the keyboard. To finally call it as I saw it, was overdue. Like I said, release at this point was synonymous to going to the pottee and having a good bowel movement. Ok, maybe a disgusting analogy, but you have got to get the point. As it came out, I started to feel relieved. See that is the sad part about this disorder. People are not cognizant of their own behavior. The other thing that is important is that I am standing up for myself and saying, please go get some damn help. Talking with another professional in the psych industry yesterday, he shared with me, what I continue to hear over and over and over again.

The only thing I can do, and probably the best thing I can do, is take care of myself. Next, hope and pray that in due time, she will come to some type of cognizance, a cognizance that says to herself, she needs help. If we are lucky, blessed, this will happen before something more severe occurs. Maybe we will go to couples therapy, but going on six months of being separated, the main therapy I am concerned with is family therapy. I want to make sure Red Chief has two parents who are healthy and can take care of him. But the reality I have to adjust to predicates; it takes two who are committed to the same goal. In this case, her motional sobriety. One of the questions I asked Jean yesterday was, what’s more important, your having your way, or you getting the treatment you need for our child? When a person is put on WBLAST like that, and they don’t answer the question, that tells me that you would rather live in a state of toxicity, and you would rather parent in an a hazed state. A linguistic term for it is Stonewalling. What I am seeing is what is called mania. From the outside in, its as though I am looking at the anti-Jean. Mad denial, (another term I have come familiar with). It’s not me, it’s not me. See in the mind of the manic, when the manic is angry, their perceptions are their reality and nothing can rid their mind of that. What’s worse is the angry manic who knows how to use systems can be exceptionally dangerous because they can masquerade, especially when they have credentials of their own which allow them access to various systems. The angry manic has to be disarmed because if they are not, I don’t want to think about it. My story is living proof of what an angry manic can do. Every time I talk to a professional about the symptoms, they all say the same thing, until they recognize they have a problem, there is nothing that can be done. Now I understand what my Great Grand Mother said, “Life, Everlasting.”