Monday, September 08, 2014

"I object to violence because when it appears to do good, the good is only temporary; the evil it does is permanent."







Between rounds of shrink appointments, we just are.  We float in the hot tub and talk.  He hates therapy like he hated yoga, but just like that is/was supposed to work, as the exertion pain ebbs the benefits flow, and so in successive delays he absorbs them.  He says many times about various things, “I see it now”, and seems to move through epiphanies at a steep rate.  It alarms me and heartens by turns.  I’m not sure.  I want to be building a life but still wonder if I’m just a way through to somewhere else for him, that will not have been me and/but will not be the storyline that I interrupted either.  And he has learned that “mostly” he “doesn’t know”, proven again and again by how much he is now thinking “I didn’t know that about myself a minute ago”. 

My own shrink appointment again looms, and I know she will not be interested in any of that except in so far as it pertains to me.  What am I doing here?  With a man so unsure of himself that he cannot (in good conscience) make commitments, can he?  I can’t answer that question so much as describe it: I’ve never felt so substantively present as I have with him, except for the simple facts of my children, so like that he simply IS and when he is not, it feels like mounting panic and I can’t stand it for forever.  I can stand it for days, I withstood it for 7 weeks, but in the end, I reel him in and put my arms around him and becalm myself.  And I know that is not necessarily a safe place to be.  Aaron dealt me a blow that was the most violent I’ve ever taken and withstood.  It was violent.  It was purposeful, selfish, conscienceless, merciless, calculated and cruel.  It gave him a rush to do it, then sickened him, a sickness he then counteracted with a rationalization that mimicked some higher moral duty to ‘his own family’, which then sickened him again, until no matter how he thought about it and no matter what he did in the day to sustain it, the truth was only sick.  And what I am certain of is that that blow to me was repercussive.  It came through him, and thus hit him first, and he’s been taking and passing on that violence onto his own life always.  From his parents, at everything he was and wanted and loved, exploiting every shred of self-doubt to do it, so that it looked to him like “support” for the self-doubt they’d themselves built to a large enough proportion to do him in (and anything he loved/wanted put asunder) time and again, the violence came.  And when I think about it, I recognize it because it has been so with every other person who has ever loved me also – each that I look on in retrospect had what I had not growing up, i.e. a “good family”, loving parents, a “happy” childhood, that upon closer inspection occasioned by trying to love me and failing, turned out to be a kind of abusive-to-the-self upbringing to some extent.  (What is it in me that drew you, and me to you, I wonder? Karma, says my shrink, which I thought I understood the definition of, but no.) 

Aaron’s family is not merely abusive to some extent, though, it is a systematic violence so large that I had to be punched in the face back from it far enough to even glimpse its proportions.  How he made it this far, I don’t know.  (His brother didn’t.)  And what I’ve inherited from it is the shared experience of it, because he now has given me a kind of love that feels like the safest place to be exactly when it is not that at all.  With love like that, who needs hate?  It feels almost not survivable except by a counter measure of equal heartlessness, a kind of going dead.  

So, I understand indeed. But I'm far from gone-dead. 

Justice ft & Problem - On Mamas