notes From The Journal -- May 2021

Pete Holmes introduced me to a more mystical, humanist perspective on Heaven & Hell, one that I'm sure has a richer & deeper tradition than I am just preparing to explore. Instead of this silly & stody idea that Heaven & Hell are actual, physical places based on an opaque reward/punishment system, this other perspective suggests that they are more metaphorical, humanity-based concepts. Simply, if you've left a good legacy of people remembering you fondly, kindly, & often, then you're in Heaven after death. Oppositely, if you're remembered negatively, then you're in Hell. Of course, this isn't a literal understanding of how it works; taken literally, it'd be just as short-sighted & flawed as fundamentalism. However, it is very appealing as a story-focused mind frame, an opportunity to ground ethics in human-centered, practical modes.

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I'm lucky to have a good-sized property for Ginny Bug (my six-year-old pitbull) to wander around on & even luckier to have a dog who will stay in the yard & who listens well. But I have been trying, a couple times a week, to take Ginny in town or to a park disc golf course for leashed walks. I think it reminds us both of our connection, our collaboration, our compromise. 

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I want to flirt with the world!

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What's that they say about the difference between hearing & listening? It's a below-the-surface-level thing, how much processing & engaging are had & how that manifests a continued response. My new therapist, in our first session, threw me off because unlike recent professionals who listened & nodded, she was asking bold questions & making big connections. Even when off-base, it felt invigorating to be heard like that, met in the middle of a depth that's rare around here these days.

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During therapy today (5/19), we pin-pointed the physiological underpinnings of my disorders (bipolar I & intermittent explosive disorder). It seems clear that these are both related to the unresolved trauma of my Uncle Ricky's death & my Grandma Tyner's death (age 8, both of which I had premonitions about), as well as the separation from my half-brother TG when I was 4.  As both my therapist & Peter A. Levine in Waking The Tiger have pointed out, the aggressive outbursts, the on-the-edge feelings, & the depressive pitfalls are the leftover energy from that early trauma. It never got explored or resolved, so my whole brain has rewired to anticipate such calamity &  maintain that intense on-guard reaction to my ongoing life.

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There was this kid Jack (name obviously changed) at the park the other day when I took my little cousin. I knew Jack from when I worked at the school. He is probably eight now, but he's big & his parents already let him roam town. Every generation in Elwood has a couple of these kids--oversized, undersupervised, no emotional / social skills, very physical. He just terrorized the other kids--slapping them hard on the back for no reason, scaring them at the bottom of the curly slide, randomly yelling. It's easy to think "little shit," abut the real work comes in sympathizing with him for all the physiological, environmental, & genetic factors stacked against him. 

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I think I'm gonna quit drinking. It just feels like the right time. One part financial decision, one part physical lifestyle change, one part psychological necessity.