Sitting on the lanai he drinks his first drink of a beer knowing it isn’t going to help him. He has gone rounds with this addiction for a long time, conquered it succumbed again and again. Now after 15 years of work he drinks like a “normal person” but tonight he knows he is pushing it.
He is reaching to self-medicate. He knows he won’t go over his self-imposed limit of 3 to 4 beers in fact he only has two usually but this first one is from a place of desperation and the hope that it will dissipate his pain knowing deep inside it has never made it any better especially the next day.
He is frustrated and feeling defeated. His men’s group didn’t seem to help much tonight, the run he went on didn’t really help, the meditation he did that morning really didn’t accomplish anything. He drinks the beer and says fuck it. But as he pulls it away from his lips he has an almost uncontrollable impulse to launch the thing into the trees but he catches that.
Perhaps the mediation did help a bit. It gave him that split second amount of time to think, “Do I really want to throw this? Do I want to restart that pattern again too? His mind shows him the memory of throwing a beer bottle from the front door of his apartment long ago taking mild pleasure in the distance it took to get it all the way down the hill to land mashing into pieces in the middle of the highway below. He remembers this was a regular occurrence coming home late from the bar feeling alone and frustrated.
“No, I will just hold onto it”.
He decides to check in, to dive into himself where that impulse came from, realizing that it is another part of him that was wanting to take control. “What do you want?” he asks internally.
The message comes very quick and clear, “I want to fuck, to fight and to have fun. I am cooped up and going crazy!”
He gets it, realizing how much of his life this last year has been about getting things done, being a good man, doing what is right. He mentor’s youth in the schools for God’s sake he needs to be pleasant and kind and hold space. He can’t force or get upset when someone pokes at him.
He uses the dreaded modeling of vulnerability on a daily basis. There is a need to be unconditionally loving or in the jargon of psychology to show unconditional positive regard.
That is the discipline and he is happy to do it but another part is fucking dying while craving adventure, excitement, and danger. It wants to live free and out in the world without boundaries and all the formal communication pleasantries. Enough with the good man stuff already.
“How can we do those things without going to jail?” He asks the wild part. He realizes this is just an excuse to live small and safe. He could go out and see what is out in the little part of the world he lives in but he is afraid.
Afraid he will meet those bad men the ones that don’t seem to feel anything but anger and jealousy. Those men that value respect but rarely give it. Those that want to destroy anything different that challenges their comfort or threatens their alpha position.
He is afraid of being laughed at and ridiculed by others. He fears the stares and the energy that is directed his way. The very reason why he found so much comfort in alcohol long ago. He could numb that gift of his.
He could still feel and sense but the reaction was gone and he was in control. Flowed with the energies around him and delighted in being able to sense his surroundings but this was short lived and the result of the distortion from living in a shell and hiding during much of his youth.
So he drinks his beer and sits in silence on his lanai. Hoping someday things will be different.
If only he could utilize all the things he has learned, applied the laws/lore that are so well known to him yet fail to bring the outcomes he desires. He faces yet again the pain of almost there, the shadow of not good enough, and the pain of longing for something he can’t even describe anymore.
The term lanai is used instead of porch or deck as he lives in Hawaii, he has unique house that is very affordable, warm weather all year, lots of people that care about him, ability to get in the ocean anytime of year and a rewarding job. Yet his restlessness continues. Just a pattern
May you know and break free of what holds you,