The thing that really pushed me today was I am going to have to give up something that has been helpful for me but feel I can’t make any other decision.
One of the reasons I’ve kept up with the blog is being unemployed. I’m angry over that happened to my profession since 2008. The last few years have wounded us financially. One of the things I’ve done to support myself dealing with the work situation, anxiety, depression, one physically abusive parent, and the other an alcoholic is to participate in a general mens support group. I’ve gone for the last 7 or so years. I really don’t know. It’s amazing to share what is usually not shared among guys. Most weeks we are serious, listening to stories of frustration with selfs, dealing with a bitchy or incredible wife, work issues. Being guys we like to offer suggestions on how to fix the situation. Occasionally, not often, we get into movie plots, buying cars and lighter stuff. It like we collectively but silently agree to take a break from the serious stuff. One time, a guy talked about suicide and that he had actually had the paraphernalia to in his care do at some point with his plan. One of the guys offered to take the things from him. We agreed for the meeting to end early while he was “disarmed”¹ and the group leader called the man’s wife.
I was very anxious prior to going to the D.I.D conference in Florida earlier this year. I asked the guys to all gather around me and place a hand on me as a sign of support for me. While I was sitting there many of the guys offered word of encouragement. A newer member of the group ask if I would mind if he offered a prayer for me. I did not mind and he spoke from the heart. I was very moved by the experience. While traveling and at the conference, when I felt nervous or anxious, I felt their hand on me.
The 6 months have been difficult and was a time over a year ago with funds but we’ve managed.
A couple of months ago, Susan said her therapist would normally be seeing her twice a week, but with our circumstances as they are, she is only going once a week. Since we came back from the conference, I’ve become more aware of her needs and could see some benefit of her being seen a couple of times a week. Meanwhile, since the conference, I’ve talked in every session, sharing something about Susan, talking about D.I.D and answering questions, even from the group moderator, about what it is and how it effects us. While sympathetic, they don’t understand, or perhaps it’s better to say they can’t relate to what happened to her and what is happening to us. I spend probably more time explaining childhood sexual abuse, educating as best I can what happens to the brain and what is going on with us that talking about the emotions of the aftereffects.
Mondays are therapy days for us. Moana goes to her guy and returns in time to share what she would like about her session, then I go off to my men’s group. She asked me if it would be OK if she saw her therapist again later this week. He rarely asks for a second session so I trust there was something was of concern.
n. Of course, I said.
I decided now would be the time to leave the group so what funds we have could be devoted to her work. I would still see her therapist partner every two weeks to discuss DID issues as well as some of the bag of crap I still drag around.
I talked to the facilitator after the meeting. We can’t just end, we have to wrap things up and worst of all have a special goodby session
. He was understanding of the situation and wished me well. We hugged. As I turned to go to the elevator, I got angry. AGAIN.
The abusers are in my god-damned bedroom! The are what I see when my wife has to be careful with the god-damn clothes she has to wear when she is around me and I am around her. The programs are TV that she watches are violent and offten sexually violent because of her history, probably to relive something or try to distance herself .
I will have to stew in this anger for awhile until I can express it in some proper way to Susan or a therapist and find a useful motivation to come from it.
¹A boy scout troop put the equipment to good use, without knowing the real reason for its purchase.