Cul-de-sac

i recently found the understanding i needed in order to move beyond obsessing over my family's incapacity, due to their own state of emotional disability, to give me much needed support all these long years.


however, with that primary addiction now defunct, as i look back over my life with more head space and a different and clearer lens, i now wonder if i have indeed authored my own life's narrative into a cu-de-sac. how much of it was true, and how much it was contrived in terms of the way i blamed my family for failing to give me the resources i needed to make better choices for developing my life. i wonder now, did i just think it up, then take steps to construct and live out the dream or nightmare i concocted in my own head? i allowed their closed mindedness to limit my potential for growth by giving them the power to do so, and wailing and bemoaning that made it a stumbling block for my own personal evolution and development.


as of late, i have pondered the wisdom of disclosure, and wondering did it truly advance my cause, or rather cause me to shoot myself in the foot. did it give me a vision, a plan for escaping the dark thick forest of delusion, or merely cause me to misplace the blame for my own misguided failings. was my upbringing really the source of all my woes? or am i just a grouse dissatisfied with the terms imposed upon me in life, with all its inequity and limitations.


surely, in some strange convoluted way, the SA experiences i had which formed and shaped my life's decisions had both detriments and benefits for myself as well as for the others whose lives were touched by mine. still the sad truth is that i can't know who 'i would have been' without the experiences i had. i can only now continue to uncover and recover my own deep potential that was always present in the essential core of me. i have no choice but to just keep digging the tunnel toward the sunshine of enlightenment, and continue to keep alive the hope that i am not being led on a ruse.


yet underneath it all, there is a restless gnawing feeling that the life i am left with will always be a second best alternative to the one i was intended to have, the one i 'should' have had, without the interruption, the side track of meeting this 'wall'. at one point in the aftermath portion of the recovery process, i admit i did feel like a prisoner walking out into freedom on the first day of release, there was a head full of hope and a heart full of possibility. now.....i just feel 'bleh'. the world and the life it offers was never meant for the likes of survivors....or perhaps it was, and i am merely refusing to accept my allotted portion, my destiny.


regarding achievements found and lost along the way and in spite of encountering 'the wall', those simply are not serving me at the level i need to be served. perhaps, in order to keep moving forward, no matter how 'good' things appear to get for me, the task remains a primary responsibility to keep adjusting my lens as i move from stage to stage.


i can no longer live my life in reaction to the damage wrought in the encounter with 'the wall'. now, more than ever, it is encumbent upon me to write a different reaction and live a different reaction rather than one that tells me i failed. if there is a 'failure' on my part, perhaps it is more a failure to correctly assess the situation in the first place. and now with hindsight and a different level of understanding i must needs readjust the focus, and edit the narrative to more accurately report the memory of the past, and redefine the cul-de-sac as a temporary detour, rather than as a permanent roadblock.


much in the same manner that i had to forgive my family for not being able to give me what i needed when i needed it the most, i now must be careful in the next chapter that i write, to avoid getting trapped as a new character, continually thinking, and living out the idea that my life is a total waste because of my encounter with 'the wall'. if it's true as they say, that water seeks it own level, the challenge will always be mine, to keep authoring a narrative with positive episodes, lest i fall into and remain in the self abrogation trap that characterizes the doleful melancholia of obsessively mourning the past.


true though, the mourning of the past is not an event, but rather a process. and as a person who suffered the inability to control my own SA experiences at one point in life, it makes sense that i would want to engage every power within my ken to regain it by attempting to manage the grieving process itself.


i am confident that i will rediscover the place which exists within from which chapters of achievements previously and successfully had been launched. that place was not killed, but perhaps forgotten. it can and will be rediscovered again and again, as the lens is continuously adjusted and as new perspectives are revealed.


[ more to come on the suject ]