Images, Recovery, Selfportraits, trauma


Authors Note:
This series of writings and art documents a period of time between November 2011 through March 2015. It is primarily a written excursion intended to retrace, understand and release the events surrounding a trauma that took place while I was living in New York City. Eventually there will be approximately five segments in total. My only desire is to bring hope to another while I learn continue to grow along my written path of discovery. And as always me we all fine peace love and light as we each venture through our own life journeys.

Part 2
Understanding The Roots of Distrust and a Release Back to Freedom

My childhood training had taught me wrong and has taught me strong. As kids we were raised with a fear fueled understanding to never seek or accept help from beyond the boundaries of our modest suburban ranch style nest. It was instilled in our young minds that the ramifications from such explorations could easily be stacked against us within the confines of family a court. Further fracturing the bond between a struggling mother and her three son’s. Our tribe growing up was a small one, we where all we had. This tribe consisted of an absent alcoholic disaster of a father, my two brothers, my mother and I, it was always US versus an invisible THEM = The World?!.

I learned young, fast and hard through both word and observation. That it is best to zip that lip boy and never voice a need, concern or opinion to any figure of authority. (somehow I never was fully silenced, I always was a fighter-looking back now I chuckle) Over and over these fears had been reinforced through various actions. The authority source to whom we where to fear never much mattered. In my young mind they seemed to be on a rotating roster, with a special guest appearance nearly every day. It could be a guidance counselor, teacher, doctor, therapist, a man of the cloth, person of law or even a waiter. But almost always, it was a male figure that we or at least I were taught to distrust. All of my pre-tween human avoidance education boiled down to the basics. Man up, suck it up, or shut the f#*k up. Along with a scroll full of other this and that’s of previous generational anxiety packed logic. These are old tools and old rules that I no longer subscribe to. They are broken gadgets, I now dispose of them. (by the way you can skip the re-cycle bin.)

For many I am sure that to accept help from another human being during a moment of life crisis is an act of innate logic. Of course we should reach out and access any available source of safety and assistance. Now I know what I have been taught as a child was both backwards and counter intuitive. Although I also understand that these teachings where intended for my own protection. The truth is that accepting help or relying on another when we are in need is actually pro-active and not something to be ashamed of. It is an action of self-love and is an essential part of self-care. At the time of my adult trauma there seemed to be as much shame surrounding the pursuit of any life affirming reinforcements, as there was encircling the events that led to my self encased demise.

Now I scratch my graying head a little wiser, wondering WTF have I been thinking remaining in this cage for so long? Honestly, what embarrassment is there to be had by learning from peers who have wrestled with the same demons as I in comparative situations? Or to develop new tools in restorative care while allowing a professional to assist in the re-navigation of my life. BFD, my life compass needed a little recalibrating and a gentle nudge back onto my personal path of discovery. I no longer have hesitations about jumping on board life’s super highway. If somebody else who is better qualified needs to do the steering for a while as I become comfortable once more with life’s multi sensory terrain. I am ok with that, I am again trusting of my instincts and of my fellow-man. I am completely enamored with this planet and I intend on enjoying all that it has to offer.

As much as I’d like to think I am Mr. Passive, I am in fact a strong-willed individual who happens to have a sensitive side. The sensitive part of me has been so compassionate, always holding onto that one last golden thread of hope. Continuously whispering in my ear that I would eventually make it through this disaster bigger brighter and stronger and with a purpose. “Just hold on little buddy, you’ll see” he would tell me. My internal cheerleader rocks and I would not be here without him.

The alpha side of me aided in my survival by being the brute fighter and my inner big brother. I adore him, he has adrenalin and no vocal filters. The night of my attack my inner brute fought for my life. He rode the adrenalin blast that supplied by my bodies fight, flight or freeze response system supplied. He did his best to save me from further harm. We all have aspects within ourselves that come out and fight for us when in danger this is a fact and a gift of nature. I adore my inner warriors, like Chucky where friends ’til the end! I would not be here today without these equally strong and important aspects of my personality.

In the past I hoped another could fix me, I would kill for a passionate embrace. I am a passionate man by nature, during the peak of my post trauma insanity I was to afraid of people. Primarily men over 40 to even let them into my life, let alone close to my body. Not without social lubricants-that being drugs and alcohol. I am so glad that chapter of closed and my heart is again open. I could really care less about a good butt plummet (yes you should giggle) that was never my main go to. The drugs numbed me and naps removed me, spirituality revitalized me, my inner journey reconnected me. I am grateful for all of the above, both the dark and the light they all served in some capacity and I have zero regrets.

The truth is, throughout all of the chaos, sober or not I was completely clueless to what was really going on deep down within me. There where however times when I somehow manage to reach out. Only to find myself retracting my trembling up turned palm as quickly as I presented it. Usually after some great epiphany of divine truth. My swift retractions where another sign of my trauma denial. A declaration often would be made after one of these enlightened moments that all was well in Robbie-Ville. And I’d find myself free once more to hop aboard my avoidance train as it promptly left the station. I would begin to ignore my inner turmoil, with a smile of denial. I had my “GOD” moment and I’d start to shuffle along, with my unspoken motto being “if it don’t hurt, don’t fix it.”

I had many brilliant lessons in light have all served a purpose. They have provided me with strength hope and knowledge, gently nudging me to where I proudly stand today. Although they all have been essential tools towards recovering my life. No real change could possibly have taken place until I faced the root of my evil. The universe knew I was finally ready to rip open my soul and face my brutal truth. The moment had come for me to finally get gritty, real and raw. I needed to jump into my demon trenches and face this fucker once and for all. It was time to grab this bastard by the nuts and regain control of my life.

After my recent trauma flashbacks that took place the week of March 9th. I’ve come to understand that I have been battling illusions for these past few years. As real as my terrors have appeared, they no longer are physical truths. They are now only memories, I own them they no longer own me.  As real as my terrors seemed, no matter how intense the emotions, or voices in my mind. Even as real as the sensations of feel my asshole ripping open again felt. Even though I could actually feel the blood dripping down my crack. They where all illusions and they no longer hold any power over me. The gashes where in my memory not my hole.

I have finally reached a shift in my journey, where I am able to let go of everything. It is all simply dissolving around me like powdered sugar in cream, I have crossed over to a new understanding. I suppose only those who have experienced something like this know exactly what I am talking about.  Don’t get me wrong I’m not shutting my eyes to anything or running from a dam thing. That’s the whole point I’ve stopped running. I refuse to be a victim to anything past present or future to the best of my souls ability. I have learned to love my little monsters, I have come to a place of peace and acceptance. A few of my global brothers and sisters have taught me to learn to walk with my demons and not to fight them. I now wake every morning and thank the universe for the buckets of knowledge and personal expansions that I have received. I never thought I could be so abundantly gifted. At least not through such a bitch of an experience-sounds like bullshit but it is true.

Now I allow myself to reach out with a trusting heart, the shame game is over. I am now so much lighter and graciously brighter. I have broken through so many preconceived illusions about my life from childhood until now. I have learned that my writing and art have quite literally saved my life. There are so many amazing people who have supported me both seen and unseen, I genuinely THANK YOU!  I have been supplied tools from above and within. I have revisited  spiritual utensils from my past that I have not picked up in decades. Giving them a good buff and a little loving, now they are as good as new (of course). I exchanged my fears for love and have moved forward.

I have a little more writing to do as I finish this process. Who knows I may continue to write about this aspect of my journey for another 30 years. All I know is that for now my heart is light and my life is right. Now onto part three – The Main Expulsion the catalyst for this series.

Love and Light Always

The Empowered Runt-lil Big R


Love, Light, Progress and Prosperity Always

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