May 10, 2004
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Pain
Fortune smiled upon me as a child. I was raised with the best of both worlds. My father was physically abusive so I enjoyed the exquisite pain of the flesh. My mother was an alcoholic and excelled in the art of emotional pain. I'll be physically and psychologically scarred till I'm ninety. They're not close enough to practice their art forms with me any longer so I have to find surrogates. My life has been an endless search for surrogates. Somehow I was able to take my father's place and abuse my body without his presence. High risk sports like motorcycles have proved to be invaluable. My mother is Irish and can be very precise with cutting words. Finding someone to take her place has been difficult but I don't give up easily. Dad had an interesting way of discipline. Stand up, put your hands at your side and take it like a man. When Dad was a young man he rode motorcycles. Harleys and Indians. When I was eighteen I built my first Harley. A couple months after my nineteenth birthday I proved my manhood by being run over by a car and having my left leg amputated below the knee. Now I can stand up and take it like a man for as long as I live. That was thirty-eight years ago. I'm still standing.
Being the eldest of eight children was a whole other experience. Dad had an interesting philosophy about that too. You're older, you should know better. That was nearly always followed by, you guessed it, Stand up, put your hands at your side and take it like a man. From this I learned to know better and act worse. Mom played a game I later identified as Wolf. She would use the Wolf, my Dad, as a disciplinary tool. He'd get over zealous and she would then come to the rescue. From this you might think I'd have learned not to trust. Quite the contrary and much more damaging I learned to trust if a woman was nice to me she was later going to feed me to the Wolf. To prove I was right I've had to find women who would do that in life. To say I have been successful would be an understatement. I have knowledge of these things and many others. But knowledge in itself is not enough to affect change in our being.
The desire to be alone has been with me ever since I can remember. Physical pain is a way to be alone. Emotional pain is the fuel drives me to take refuge in physical pain. I don't want to be loved. I want to be free to love, but I do not want to be loved back. My parents loved me. I know what love feels like. This is the perfect world for this kind of mental illness because there are so many takers. Life is my oyster. Is it any wonder I'm so happy? Are you confused? Imagine what it's been like over here. Because of things like this I have sought solace in esoteric knowledge. It is by its very nature solitary because no one else can have your experience. It's like riding a motorcycle. It's a solo sport. Even if you want to share it you never really can. You can take a passenger on the back but only one person can operate the machine. Pain is my friend. But I can feel a change in the air. Something is happening and we will no longer ride together as we once did. I don't know what that will look like but I know it's coming, is inevitable. I think I'm nearly ready.
Comments (43)
I would never have figured you for coming from such a large brood. Surprised me.
I can relate. Especially to "I want to be free to love, but I do not want to be loved back."
Reading this makes me want to protect you from the past, regardless of how illogical that is.
WOW.. I do hope you rid of your friend as much as possible.
Reading thid made me feel sad that you have hung on this long with pain by your side. Kick it to the curb.. let it go.
we only suffer as much as we want to.
Phew! I never knew. You're a fighter James you'll win this one. {{{hugs}}}.
I dont really know what to say to this.... I think I'll have to think about it.. and come back later.
wow.......i'm (almost) speechless. i know about this subject intimately. i have recovered. for decades pain was the cloak i wrapped myself in, my comfort zone. for years incredulous friends would marvel, "she's so bright, beautiful, witty, etc., why does she (fill in the blank)". ironically enough, it was in the act of forgiveness that i was freed from the pain requirement. the most significant activity in my life is working with others and sharing my experience in the hopes that they too will find freedom, joy and serenity. the solution is spiritual, not logical. for how can you apply logic to those events you described? the are beyond human comprehension. when you reach the "other side" of this issue, you will possess a precious gift. many are called, but the chosen are few. best of luck to you on this leg of your journey.
wow, karenallen typed in the exact thing i was going to...
Yeah...been there myself in my own version of this...still trying to figure out how to get out of it all. But I think I've figured out at least the 'I've had enough' part of it.
so were you like Irish..dirt and stuff?
I'm glad you're still standing !
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!*at a loss of words**
I don't think I would have ever guessed at your past or family life. That it happens at all shocks me sometimes simply because the thought is kind of foreign to me.
I was never phsyically harmed in my childhood really. Mostly it was mental and emotional. For me, sleep and school was my escape from home. Sleep brought me dreams and freedom to do what I wanted to do.
Peace James, internal and external. It's what I wish for you.
Shane
Blessings.
{{{Hugs}}} Who said that our parents were there to protect and nurture us?
I have trained a few dogs in my time and know the trick is consistency. You have been in the past the dog whose reward was undeserved and consistent punishments and in amounts that would get the abuser jail time/prison time in the courts of today. The dog, being the smart animal that he is, retreats as far away from the abuse as he is able. He knows what lies in his masters hand is more abuse. It's hard for a mistreated dog to normalize and in fact, I'm not sure they ever do but some have been known to pick up with certain people just having a gut feeling for that particular person as being trustworthy.
I read some interesting things for Mothers Day and one is a really beautiful poem by Cheri Harold about the love she felt she received from her mother as a child. It's a good poem but having read it my first thoughts were that the poem wasn't true in all cases and I have seen some of those cases. It hasn't been that long that I saw a family of maybe 5 people and one member was a younger girl of 5 or 6 and her hair was not just unkempt, it was filthy and matted, obviously untouched for days by shampoo or come and brush. I would have died before my child would have been in that condition much less seen in public as she was being seen. The family in total didn't seem to be in quite that sad of a shape. Why her? I'm not sure but it was an obvious sign of neglect and abuse. Your blog is another look into abuses heaped upon some children.
To survive conditions of that type, we build barriers between ourselves and our abusers, some children never come out from that barrier. Some of my favorite reading was books like Sybil. It takes years to make it out of that type of prison and for some, who never make it except for bits and pieces there is a lifetime of pain and wondering.
You, my friend, are one of the survivors. You have survived on willpower and intelligence born of a will to survive. You amaze me and I know from reading you amaze a lot of people. Not only are you an amazement but a role model for quality in life.
Always waiting for more of your thoughts,
LittleE
I'm the auntie who can't stand by and just watch a child be abused...be it physically or psychologically. This is why when I'm around Sil's little boy I make sure he's being fed and I speak to him gently...
I can't sit back and let those things take place. Danny's well aware of my feelings on this...
I'm so glad you're standing.
-M
My hopes are with you ... that you really are starting something new. I can appreciate the effort it takes to keep believing THIS time is different. THIS time, there will be no betrayal. THIS time, pain will take a seat on the curb. THIS time, I won't sabatage myself. THIS time, I will face the fear of the unknown, instead of relying on the security of pain. I applaud your will, James, to keep going, keep believing and keep surviving.
funny. "if a man is nice to you, that means he's got no spine" would be my related lesson. explains a lot.
hm. phoenix time?
This blog brought Prov.18:1 to mind. I can not relate to this situation, as my father was a darlin'. He disciplined me, but I know now it was for my good. He was never harsh with it either. My mother is a very proper lady. I may have been financially poor as a child, but rich in the kind of love that counts. I never ever doubted my parents love.
Dear James. I grieve for that boy. I admire the man. Love (without strings) TP
Bravo for making the man last.
your father and mine could be the same man if you add sexuall abuse in the mix...and I also am the oldest of a large family...I am glad that you are looking for change in the wind...seperating from that old friend pain is a good thing...and meeting your new friend happiness will be even better...have a good day
honesty is good, and I always expect it from you, but did not expect this to be a story you had to tell. just when I htought I knew everything (I mean, well...I do know everything still, just ask me)
I've always pushed love away too. Thing is, I've never figured out why.
Oh, and James? Wear your helmet.
I too come from alcohol, physical and mental abuse. I can not feel what your feeling but I can relate through my own sad experiences. I am feeling very sad for that little boy that was the oldest of 8 and I am proud to have had the opportunity to have met you through blogging. Your a wonderful, wise man and you have a very unique sense of humor...in your own time you have come to terms with many things...huggs...Sassy
Just about the time you think you have forgiven and mended your soul ....out pops the devil again. My childhood was not picture perfect in the least. Many traumas that shaped me and made me insecure and of little ego. I love and loved my parents. My Dad has changed a great deal and is still a wonder to me. they had a disfunctional life so what could they share?
there is always hope that we can let go of the angst and be free of those learned knee yerk reactions 
Love, nancy
I look forward to your writings about whatever comes!
rr
Emotional pain has always been my poetic inspiration, but I'm not that attached to it. As much as my writing is a part of me, I would sacrifice every word I've ever written to be purely and honestly loved.
The thing is, you have a very warped idea of love. Your parents may have loved you, but they appear to have loved themselves above all else, so you never learned what love really is.
I pray God will make a way to teach you, and that you will be open to that knowledge. God bless, ~L~
It should be interesting to see what happens next.
Steve
It's interesting how we sometimes just, for no discernible reason, leave behind some previously fundamental aspect of who we are -- some big chunk like half a tooth or something.
Take care
-J-
well, j, i send you a hug. but it isnt the feel sorry for you kind. i have alot to say on that blog but it's ok, i dont have to soap box. i just appreciate your pain. and between pain and angst, lets say sometimes it creates the most coolest people.
not confused here!
Been there, done that. Also from an abusive and alcoholic home. The old saying, "What doesn't kill us makes us stronger" springs to mind. But I am sick of pain. I avoid the pain givers these days, even if it happens to be one of my children...
Don't you think that a lot of your compassion has risen from the ashes of your pain? I believe that's where mine has come from. And I want to thank you for sharing such personal history with so much honesty.
ouch.
Pain is the steed in the valley of love.
Perhaps one day I will be preparing to part ways with pain. It's hard to say. I feel that pain has become an element central to my being.
Perhaps when I desire stasis or have some other such desire.
Pain helps me to be chaotic as well as orderly. I feel I need both of those extremes at this juncture.
There are many things I will no longer need when and if I become a balanced presence.
-B
James. i may be friendly with Coyote but am not keen on Wolves. and i'd never feed you to anyone. i'm far too selfish to share you, heh. even if you don't get my poetry. heart you in Canada, whether you're standing or not, cherie.
i used to take the punches for my entire family . . . . if i saw one a-comin', i'd divert it my way. they didn't hurt after a while because i felt at the time that i deserved it -- certainly more than the others.
the old man is on prozac now, so he's all calm and chuckly, and he don't do that stuff no more. i swear, sometimes i'd rather him hit me than talk to me. but i suspect i'll get over it.
There seem to be so many of these people who parented innocent little children. So many of us scarred.
I'm glad you feel a change coming, James. Inflicting pain on yourself just because you know the routine doesn't make sense...but I haven't figured out not to do it yet either.
Hugs,
Lisa
I wonder if pain is our only true teacher. What do we know when life is easy? Why bother to dig deeper than the surface if the water is calm? I have more questions than answers.
well said and explained...no confusion here.
Melissa Ethridge said it all:
Everybody's got a hunger
No matter where they are
Everybody clings to their own fear
Everybody hides some scar
Precious pain
Empty and cold but it keeps me alive
I gave it my soul so that I could survive
Keeping me safe in these chains
Precious pain ...
So many of us with the same story. I wish the story belonged to none of us.
And I wish you a safe passage to victory and freedom. It's not an easy road, or any easy fight.
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