A Blind Eye

All this blogging about the kid I used to be has made me think of my mom. She has been dead for 16 years but I think of her every day. Although I am like my dad in many ways, I believe that I got my coping skills in regards to anything with shame attached from my mom.

Denial, self delusion and avoidance kept me from addressing a number of self destructive tendencies within myself for a very long time. They include, but are not limited to, hypochondria, alcoholism and addiction. I was 20 years old before I stopped calling my attraction to other men "merely admiration". There are probably others that I am still in denial about.

When anything icky would happen at our house my mom would say "Let's not talk about this. I tell you what, I'll put a roast in the oven and everything will be alright. James, why don't you come in the kitchen and help me." and that would be that. I could always see worry and hurt behind her eyes though, and eventually she would go to her room with a "sick headache".

She just wanted all of us to be okay and had no idea how to make that so. I think she felt terribly guilty for not know how to fix everyone. Cooking a roast - she did know how to do.

Just like me, she was unaware that she was not supposed to be able to fix everyone and everything and secondly it wasn't her job in the first place. What she did not know was that she was a wonderful, wonderful Mother and that there is nothing wrong with making mistakes. I had to be told that by a great sponsor and a wonderful therapist. In fact the word mistake seems to imply fault. I hope that someday I will think of "making a mistake" as missing a mark that I have set for myself that may or may not be valid.

Turning a blind eye to the obvious in my life only worked for me for so long. Falling down stairs, waking up in the backyard, melting cookware on the stove and alienating friends and family forced me to take a look. It was the best thing that ever happened to me and something I could never have done without the help of others.

Not that I don't cook a roast now and then just like my momma taught me. I just try to eat a little humble pie with it and ask someone for help with my problems.

Thank you Mother for being exactly who you were.

Hold that thought...

James