The Long Road Part 13 & 14

Fallout & Fear

Ongoing Fallout

One of the residual effects of a start to life that involved the very early sexualization of children was a great deal of fear and guilt surrounding contact with kids as I got older.

I absolutely love kids and they love me. I ‘see’ them and match their playful energy. Beside that, I’ve been looking after kids since before I can remember so I intuitively know what they need and what they could be feeling, what they love etc. I love telling them stories and seeing the wonder in their faces when I make stories up for them and tell them with voices and sounds that increase the drama! I get right down and give them the attention they love so much and communicate on their level.

But…

Before my eldest daughter was born, I kept a safe distance from children. I would always make sure that there was someone else in the room if I was at someone’s house and kids were there. I was shit scared of someone blaming me for something and then having my past dragged up in court and being assumed guilty. I just felt it was safer to keep my distance and that in itself, was a constant and devastating weight to carry.

When my eldest daughter’s mother fell pregnant and I found out it was going to be a girl, I went into a panic. I went home and was completely beside myself. I researched and found a counsellor who claimed to be an expert in post cult recovery and childhood sexual trauma and booked myself right in. In my head I wanted to know if I was at any risk of perpetrating my early life onto my child. If there was any doubt, my plan was to disappear overseas never to be heard from again. I figured it would be better that my daughter not even know who her Dad was, than to be at risk of abuse.

At the time I was working big hours on building a 5 Star Resort in Noosa and I had to let my boss know I needed to go get help and they gave me an early day to attend the appointment.

So I rock up to the first appointment and after the introductory stuff I asked which cult she had experience with. She replied, “The Salvation Army”……….. You can imagine my reaction! The fucking Salvation Army!!! Whaaaaat! That’s not a bloody cult! Anyway, I tried to put that aside and just focus on what my risk profile was toward my unborn child. I started to tell her about the sexual beliefs and practices we were brought up with and some of the things I had done as a result of that upbringing that I felt so heavily guilty for. She proceeded to tell me that she had been sexually assaulted by her older brother and so abused her younger brother as a result! I felt like the session had quickly turned around and I was the one actually assisting in processing something I got the feeling she had not been able to tell anyone else… At the end, I asked what the risk was that I would abuse my kid and she said that because I had even asked the question and sought help in understanding the risk, that I was no risk at all! “I think you’ll be fine”, was the response!

That was the only conclusion I agreed with and left with no further bookings. That was my first encounter with a paid ‘professional’ counsellor and needless to say, I didn’t go back to any others for nearly 20 years. It once again reinforced the feeling that my issues were just too complicated and that no one really understood me or what I had to contend with, so I just had to keep on slugging it out on my own while keeping my past largely secret.

The first time I told anyone about my early experiences in any vague detail beside one very close friend, was a school counsellor during year twelve. It was after I left home and was living with my girlfriend and my school absence count started rising. My very lovely Roll Call Teacher called me in to see if everything was ok. I started off with saying I was having a tough time balancing school and working now I was living out of home. One thing led to another and the story of my upbringing came up and I was only glazing over it in general detail. She stopped me and asked me if it was ok that she brought the School Counsellor in. I said that was fine and after a couple of minutes she came in and sat opposite me beside the other lady. I continued with my story, I was quite emotionally detached from it as it was just reality, I had no idea about the impact the story could have on anyone else who really took the time to listen. Before long these two ladies were in absolute tears and I asked them a couple of times if I should stop talking. They called in a third person, a man this time and I kept going. After talking with them for half an hour, all three of them were crying and I realised that what we’d lived through was pretty fucn heavy shit and really, that just made me bury it deeper. There before me, were two counsellors and a teacher crying over a dumbed down version of the story from the perspective I had at that time which I am open to accepting is very different to the perspective I hold currently.

What that solidified in me was that there was no way that ‘normal’ people would ever be able to handle the real dirty details of what we were brought up in. It was just too ‘different’ and terrible.

Fear and Conflict

One effect I noticed was a fear of confrontation and conflict. I think it’s a big reason I was so drawn to the Construction Industry. It was full of conflict and confrontations and I wanted to conquer my fear. I was drawn toward my fear for two probable reasons. One was to relive out the craziness in an attempt to process it, the second was so I could get better at it. No matter what the reason, the construction industry has really helped me become comfortable with conflict and built a resilience toward it. I can deflect and resolve almost every confrontation without fear but with a confident calmness that comes from years of dealing with it. The things we do to ourselves ay?!! Mind you, I still use all avenues to resolve things calmly before resorting to conflict. It’s helped me refine a diplomatic approach that might take more energy but ends up in a far superior outcome.

It wasn’t easy though. I used to shake like a leaf to start with. I’d go on a screaming rampage in my ‘fight’ mode because I certainly wasn’t going to run! There were interactions that would affect me for days and I really hated it but I couldn’t quit.

I took up Tai Chi and Kung Fu and did it for three and a half years. It was awesome and really helped me with focus and anger release. Why I bring it up here though is that the Kung Fu sessions very physical and there was very firm body contact during training. I was always covered in bruises as a result of the ‘conditioning’ and I really loved the release… Most of the time it was fine but this one time I was partnered with this visiting guy and he was smashing me. I held on for as long as I could but then broke down and ran out of the training session. I drove like a mad man home and cowered in the corner in an absolute mess. In the books I’m reading currently, apparently this is quite a normal and common reaction for kids who have lived with fear or a lack of safety for extended durations including physical and emotional abuse. I wrote my Sifu a letter to explain what had happened, he patted me on the back and carried on as usual which was exactly what I was hoping he’d do. I certainly didn’t want a fuss made.

To this day I have a finely tuned sense of danger and never really relax out in public, especially when I’m with the kids or a partner. It’s certainly not all consuming but it is ever present and ramps up in the blink of an eye if I pick up on an energy shift or there is someone in close range that is a bit of an unknown quantity.

Escapism, Devastation and Feeling Different

I’ve had a bit of a funny day and the kids were watching a movie about a child going to middle school with a disfigured face and processing the feelings of being different and being picked on etc. It triggered me a fair bit and I got quite emotional.

I think, at my very core, I’ve always felt different. My mate Brad would have told me to stop carrying on because everyone feels different and has their struggles, I’ll always be grateful for that firm perspective because it’s true. But I’ve decided to explain some of the reasons I feel different in an attempt to perhaps, make others feel less different. Because I’m sure there’s more like me. I’m not using this as a poor me session, I’m not looking for sympathy or any kind words of affirmation. This is simply the way I feel.

I guess I’ve always felt alone, very alone. I always wondered why my natural father left us when we were so young and only made contact a couple of times in 41 odd years. I really feel let down there. Then my Mum always sided with my stepdad and while I know she certainly loved us kids completely, if it were a choice between us and him, she was always loyal to him. He was a hard worker and provided for us but there weren’t any displays of acceptance and affection. It was all about the very firm and strict administration of rules.

As the eldest of 8 kids there wasn’t much attention to go round anyway, the day to day goings on took up all the energy and there was always something to be done. I was basically a third parent. The younger kids always needed the most attention by default and then when the youngest was born with severe disabilities, there was even less. And that’s ok, it’s just life, it’s the way it rolls, but it does have effect.

Add to all that the fact that we were brought up in such a strange, deeply damaging and unorthodox way that we couldn’t talk about it with anyone and the feelings of aloneness grew. I latched on to people that even slightly understood me, but of course, as youngsters, there were a lot of changes of the guard so to speak. So many people come and go and each one was like a passing of one life, into the next. I tried to save people in a way that I wished someone would save me. I threw myself into relationships with insecure people in an attempt to self heal the holes I felt in my love cup. I was an expert in reassuring others because I knew exactly what I wished someone would say to me. But somehow at the bottom of it all I knew my worth and so had the confidence to be bold and strong. Basically, I was overextending myself. But being that version of strong is so tiring and every now and then, breaks down, leaving the battle weary to lick their wounds while their strength returns. But the scars never leave.

It was so important to me to be popular. And I was good at it. I’m naturally outgoing and can squeeze myself into any social setting and group of people. But sometimes in those crowded rooms where everyone liked me, I felt the loneliest.

I wanted so badly to set myself apart from the beginning of my life that I turned away from ‘my people’. I searched relentlessly for my ‘normal’. There were many false starts in finding a good solid partner that cared about me in a balanced way. It was my perfect first child that taught me what love really felt like, and that was stunningly beautiful. I had a reason to work and a reason to come home. I could love her, and she could love me and we were, and are, eternally connected.

A Decade of Peace Shattered

I eventually married the most beautiful and perfect woman I’d ever met. She was bold, confident, didn’t ‘need’ me, she was driven and ambitious, strong and had an amazing presence. She was the best version of top shelf ‘normal’ you could ever hope to find. She loved me, and I loved her, and I took that as being something so amazing. That I’d attained a level of ‘normality’ that felt comforting. It felt like I was seen for the me of my future, rather than the old me that was trapped in the bull shit I grew up in. I felt my healing was largely complete and that I was finally where I belonged.

We worked our way through buying our first house, renovating it, having no money, the GFC, buying a second house and beautifully renovating that one too (with a great deal of help from her Dad). We were a high functioning power couple, both with awesome careers, eventually earning top salaries and really kicking goals. We shared so much mutual love and admiration. There were no raised voices or fighting, we slotted in together like a pair of matching gloves. We enabled each other and met on so many levels. We could go camping and rough it just as well as we could don our Black Tie evening wear and make a splash at any type of event. Our family was active, close, emotionally connected, our kids were highly sensitive, kind and caring. There was music, laughter and silliness, and for a decade, it was awesome. We made an absolutely perfect family together. Stunning children who were all perfect in their own ways and easy to be proud of. Totally inclusive of my first perfect child, all the kids were something to behold and so unique and talented in their own interests.

She introduced me to the amazing world of food and good wine. Wearing cologne as part of my daily outfit. Everything tasted amazing and my eyes were opened to culinary magic because of her. Food up till this time had always been a bit like medicine and really just there to stop me being hungry. She was a foodie magician and really showed me what was out there. She really was my dream woman and the beautiful part about it all was that I felt worthy of all the goodness we shared. I felt like I deserved it, that I offered sufficient value in my contributions to the union and there was no loss of attraction even after the 13 years we were together, and I told her every day. We did life very, very well…

Yes, there were times during this decade of harmony when I felt a bit lonely and different, but I think everyone experiences that to a point. She accepted my differences and felt proud to be able to show me what a healthy loving life felt like.

So yes, sometimes I would get flashbacks and wake up after dreams of trying to save kids from my childhood. I would wake up after dreams about not being able to save my own kids too. But I think that’s natural when you care so much for something and someone. My beautiful family came first, and I didn’t care that I had to work like crazy, long hours etc, just to give them all the best life I could. A quality of life I got to discover at the same time they did. I rediscovered my innocence through them and I saw what it was like to be brought up in a stable and loving environment. It was truly beautiful, and the most valuable thing one can experience. I feel privileged and proud to have been able to provide it and witness it at the same time. It wasn’t 100% perfect, but it was bloody close. I loved how if the kids were into something, we could cater for it! It was healthy, stable, loving and warm. They had their own little rooms with their own things in it and it really was the safe haven I’d missed out on. The best thing was when my oldest would come over and stay and I had all the four kids at the table at once! Heaven, and I’d say it every single time it happened. It was a life situation too good for all my wildest imaginings and it was my reality for 11 years. I had complete faith in it, felt worthy of it and thought it would never end. I really thought I was going to grow old with her and I was very content with that prospect.

It’s a massive part of the reason our marriage failure was so devastating to me. I finally had a family I could be so proud of, that was such a beautiful eco system filled with laughter and activity. We shared so much healthy love, but I guess if you’ve never gone without that, it’s hard to see the unique value in it.

The owner of an apple orchid would seldom be impressed with a bag full of perfect apples…

And so it is that my wife was willingly enticed away by a man at her work and here we are. Along came a threat to my family’s togetherness that I had no control over. This other guy had captured her imagination and my wife put her feelings for him in front of me and our family’s unity. She put the connection they shared in the area of work and business ahead of me and our together family. I regularly said that he had better be the 5th best fucking man in Australia and if not, then a close 6th because what she was about to give up to be with him was invaluable. I’d try to explain to her that it was like taking the most valuable coin you will ever hold in your entire life, popping it in the pokie (slot) machine, pulling the handle and hoping for a full line up of lemons. There were so many things I tried over the 2 years I fought to keep our family together that in the end, there was nothing more I could do or say. It became crystal clear that the change had to be made and for fate to take its course. It was heart breaking because I knew in my heart that it was not only going to be terrible for me and the kids, but that it was also going to be terrible for her. But she couldn’t see it. She was too blinded by her ambitions and her exciting feelings for this other man. She was in love with two different people for different reasons and she didn’t want to let him go to save us. It was so hard to have so much unconditional love for her, but then realise she had largely left me, and I had to let her go.

To be fair, it’s likely that their journeys were more in sync than what I could offer. They probably grew up in similar circumstances and most definitely different to mine. The things they were both talking about with regards business and innovation took a mindset that was more carefree than mine. They were giving talks to Start Up Entrepreneurs about relentless persistence, and slipping into different personas to suit different situations, I’d been utilising those techniques since I was a kid to avoid punishment and then later to fit back into the real world just to get through high school, and the day to day! But they weren’t interested in my ‘Real Life’ experience. They were on their own little jet plane…

She wore life lightly and had less inhibitions around taking chances and finances. She’d not lived extravagantly but had never gone hungry. I still had poverty fear and had only a few years previous, let go of the idea I needed to own a van as my car so that I’d have somewhere to live if everything went wrong.

This brings me back to feeling alone and so very different. I share a back story with just 25,000 odd other humans in the world with maybe a couple of hundred in Australia. Out of them of course there are so many levels and versions of experiences, and levels of healing. Then there is the overwhelming desire to run away from that history and hide in the shadows of ‘normal’ people and cut off everyone else that grew up the way we did. There is so much shame to get past and the skeletons are still alive and moving.

But at the end of it all, they are my people. And I’m tired of running. I know I don’t need to identify with the wrongness in order to feel proud of the survivors. It’s the good ones who have managed to round up some resemblance of normality and broken the cycle of abuse in a single generation, that I have nothing but admiration and beaming pride for. That mountain is a fucking tough one to climb and anyone on the slopes climbing has already earned my respect no matter how far up or down the face they are.

I’m reading a book at the moment called ‘Not the Price of Admission’ by Laura S. Brown, PH.D. (I cannot recommend this book highly enough! Get your eyes on it!) and in the first 20 pages it explains the differences in the outlook on life my ex wife and I had perfectly. It explains why the feelings of being ‘different’ are there.

I’ve been thrust into a new chapter of growth and healing without my permission but it’s here regardless. I know at some stage I’ll be grateful for this horrendous upheaval but for now, it just hurts.

Love’s Greatest Song

I wrote my ex wife a poem within days of my moving out of the family home… here it is.

I invite you to join me,

In love’s greatest song.

Might not be what you think,

It’s a soft subtle throng.

For just as the May Fly,

Leaves the water, for air,

So life’s phases pass,

Like wind in our hair.

You see holding on,

For holding on’s sake,

Would surely drown,

Both the Goose and the Drake.

Besides it’s not about,

Holding on or letting go.

Side by side,

The only offer we sowed.

A true soul mate sees,

All of the soul.

Not just the part,

Comfy and under control.

Just as the Astronaut’s partner,

Shed’s tears as they set off,

Into deep unknown,

In sheer fulfillment of dreams.

We didn’t ask for ordinary,

When we first met.

And ordinary,

We did not get.

Hearts must be as understanding,

And compassionate,

As they are wild and free.

What we show our kids,

They look for from above.

Would you not want them,

To seek fulfillment,

Rather than a constricting love?

For is this not,

My greatest creation?

A protected space,

For my loved ones to grow?

Would it not be detractive,

If that space had sides and a lid?

For is ultimate strength,

Not borne by the free?

And all of those,

Who selflessly let them be?

For bravery rarely comes in a form,

That appears in movies, novels and halls.

It’s worn by those who stand up,

For one simple thing,

The right to find space,

To fully spread their wings.

It might lead to victory,

It might lead to defeat.

But bravery never,

Ever,

Takes a back seat.

We learn more from loss,

Than we do from gain.

And in so to lose,

Is so often to live again.

The sleep in the night,

Lost to the cry of an infant.

The loss of serenity,

To the bustle of a family.

And as the day dies,

Giving way to the night.

So the night in turn dies,

Giving way to the light.

We are far more,

Than the sum of our possessions.

The houses we build,

The dim light in our reflections.

We are fire and water,

Under a thin veil of skin,

Through which only the things,

We choose get in.

So victims of the next chapter,

We will not be.

I’m owning my next phase,

That’s entirely me.

Get past child abandonment issues,

And embrace the change.

None of this makes,

The punch in the mouth,

Any easier to take.

But the taste of the blood,

Less like iron,

Almost sweet.

It doesn’t stem the tears,

Or the deep gasping sobs,

Bring back the appetite,

Or full nights of sleep.

But these times they will pass,

Like lifetimes of a dream.

Our lives barely a glitch,

In the worlds billion year old itch.

To boldly stand and wave goodbye,

To something you cherished and held dear,

Is what love’s greatest song,

Has been waiting to hear.

No longer together,

We embrace the change,

Celebrate the beautiful,

The fierce and the strange.

I truly hope,

You find what you seek,

And that it’s all,

You dreamed it to be.

For to die never trying,

Would be worse a fate,

Than to stand transfixed,

In that wondering state.

All my Love,

Joey

Redundancy

In the middle of all this marital turmoil, I was completely falling apart, and that started showing at work.

I’d been given a promotion a few months previous and I was looking after multiple projects at the same time. At one stage I had over $90Mil worth of projects under my management at once. It was all good until the chaos at home started. I couldn’t sleep from the stress at home and then had to get up and really perform at work. I handed over a large and challenging project worth $28Mil just inside the due date and after the walk around at handover to the client, I sat in the car and completely broke down. I was crying in my car to and from work and in between projects. I couldn’t eat. It really was horrible. I lost 8kg in 4 weeks and was an emotional wreck. I was waking up at 1am and going for 10k run in an attempt to settle myself down so I could sleep some more but nothing worked. I’d gone from being at the top of my game, to being a complete mess, lacking focus and motivation and it showed.

I had to go see a Psychiatrist to calm down and it worked on and off. I was shown mindfulness techniques to relax and prepare for sleeping. It would work for a few nights and then the restlessness would return.

Then the company I was working for suffered a large drop in turnover and I was offered a redundancy. So I had everything in my life fall apart at the same time. Work was bad, home was bad. I didn’t want to tell my family about what was happening at home because I genuinely thought we’d pull through and I didn’t want any of them hating my wife for what she was doing to me. That was by far the loneliest I had ever felt in my entire life. Everything went from being so awesome to completely fucked in just a few months. I was completely devastated. I felt like I’d lost everything I’d ever held dear and valued the most.

I had to do something though, so the same day I got let go from work, I set up my own little construction company and it’s been hard but also awesome. I feel like I have balls in the air everywhere and I’m just hanging on for the ride but it’s working, and I’m strapped in!

Present Time

And that brings us up to the present time! To be perfectly honest, I’m having to rebuild my trust in life again. I’m having to lean on all the things I’ve learned so far and really press back up from my trusty foundation. But rebuilding is an opportunity to reassess and recalibrate. A chance to make the trajectory of my life more attuned with my personal values. This process is putting all my theories into practice and testing them for strength and suitability. I guess only time will tell which ones hold up and which ones need to be modified. The only thing that is certain is that things change, and every morning is a new chance to either move forward or remain stuck.

I don’t do ‘stuck’, so I guess it’s just back to one foot in front of the other, being open to opportunities and remaining relentlessly open and soft in the face of injury, trusting that something amazing is just around the corner…

Joey x