I used to revel in New Year’s Eve excess. I’d get blasted on vodka and “head-wreckers” in my Revere basement. I’d binge on Chinese food. I’d wake up promising God I’d never do that again, then I’d promptly break the promise.
Last night I stayed sober and abstinent. The food was weighed out as usual. I drank coffee. The niece slept over. Erin introduced Sean to “Dr. Who.”
Duncan read his cousin a bedtime story.
Life doesn’t suck.
Happy New Year.
Yeah. Christmas really doesn’t suck like it used to. And I’m the luckiest guy on Earth.
Life isn’t perfect. It never will be. Not supposed to be. But I’m finally starting to move past the idea that Christmas is supposed to always be perfect, sparkling and free of pain and strife.
I’m looking at a lot of painful, hard work in the rear-view mirror. Years of intense therapy, the decision to bring my addictions to heel, letting God in and going on medication. In the last couple of years, all that toil has been starting to pay off and I’ve felt joys I could never feel before.
I think the biggest reason I’m not dreading Christmas this time is that my perspective has changed. I’m not craving a “Pleasantville” atmosphere where everyone kicks back and smiles all jolly. I’m not expecting things to be idyllic. I guess you can say I’ve lowered my expectations.
People are still going to fight. Cars will still break down. Loved ones will still die. That no longer means Christmas is destroyed.
A lot of this is based on my deepening Faith. 
This time of year is about celebrating the birth of Christ. I love the glow of a lit Christmas tree as much as the next person. But I don’t care so much about all the gifting back and forth. It feels good to give, but I’ve realized the best thing I can give is my time for a friend in need or a family that’s always there for me.
If not for the sacrifice Jesus made for us sinners, I’d be in a world of shit. For all I know I still am. Purging evil behavior is a complicated task and I very much doubt I’ve mastered it.
Celebrating His birthday is wholly appropriate, regardless of the twists and turns life will inevitably take. Because that birth was our second chance — my second chance.
If you’re a skeptic and think I’m getting into crazy talk, I don’t care. I know I’m no better or worse than you, though in my delusional moments I like to think I am.
This is where my road has taken me, and I’m grateful for it.
Have a Blessed Christmas, everyone.
Yesterday’s post on children and divorce hit a tender nerve for a lot of you, so I feel a few clarifications are in order.
Mood music:
http://youtu.be/kJHFaU0lpZ8
Here’s what yesterday’s post WAS NOT:
–A rebuke of single parents. I know a lot of single parents who bust their ass and give their children a lot more love than some of the married couples I’ve met in my day.
–A plea for people in troubled marriages to stay together for the sake of the kids. Actually, as one reader correctly pointed out, it can be more damaging to a child if his/her parents hate each other but stay together anyway. If that’s not a recipe for addiction, abuse and a passing of demons to the next generation, I don’t know what is.
–A suggestion that you’re a lousy parent if you can’t keep your marriage together. It takes two people to make a marriage succeed or fail. And sometimes things beyond your control can damage a marriage. That doesn’t make you a less loving parent. And sometimes, you find someone else to marry who turns out to be the best thing that ever happened to the family. Bottom line: A bad marriage can’t go on. My parents were smart to divorce in 1980. A lot of bad things followed, but things surely would have been worse had they stayed together.
It WAS:
–A reminder that kids pick up on a troubled house immediately and they need constant love and reassurance.
–A big “fuck you” to parents who use their kids as pawns to hurt each other. Doing so just makes you mean, and your child is probably better off without you around.
I mentioned two troubled marriages yesterday, but I have to be honest and tell you that I was particularly fixated on the second case I mentioned.
I also need to admit — again — that I’m only seeing one side of the drama.
But since I’m keeping the names of the players anonymous, I’m just going to roll with the one-sided version of events and say a few things:
1.) It is NEVER, ever OK to tell the other parent you took the child one place for the weekend when you were actually someplace else. It’s one thing if you’re shielding the kid from someone abusive. It’s quite another thing if that parent is not abusive and you’re just doing it to be spiteful. Parents need to know where their kids are at all times because we live in a dangerous world. You lied about a child’s whereabouts, and that makes you a punk. And, contrary to what you may think, it does matter.
2.) When it comes to deciding who gets the child and when, it’s about what’s best for the kid, not you.
3.) Not living at home doesn’t free you of certain responsibilities, like helping to pay the bills. You may not live there anymore, but the kid still does. And like I said, it’s about the child, not you.
If this sounds like a rant that veers too close to a temper tantrum, I make no apologies. The scars from my childhood fueled an adulthood ripped apart by mental illness and addiction.
In the final analysis I made a lot of bad decisions and most of what I’ve been through can’t be blamed on everyone else.
And the difference is that in my case, everyone else did their best, even if some things took a sour turn.
When I see a parent who isn’t trying, I get angry. If a child is dragged through the mud when the parents are trying to do it right, just think of the damage done when the parents aren’t trying.
You’re not trying, my friend. And for now, I wish I had more middle fingers for you than the two God gave me.
When people you know go through a divorce, much is made over who gets what and who loses what. The ex-wife gets the house. The ex-husband gets full custody of the kids. But here’s a constant that’s most upsetting: The kids almost always get the shaft.
Mood music:
http://youtu.be/gvkvJo2VRJc
Parents don’t usually mean for this to happen. They start out determined to shower the children with love and shield them from the ugly stuff as much as possible.
Then, as the proceedings drag on, the parents look for ways to hurt each other. What better way to do that than by using the children as pawns?
When my parents divorced 30 years ago, they did their best to shield us. They sent us to summer camp, though I really hated that. I just wanted to go play on Revere Beach.
They got joint custody. We stayed with Dad during the week and Mom on weekends. In the summers that arrangement was reversed. Dad got the house.
As the years went on, my mother grew increasingly bitter toward my father. This is understandable to a point. Her oldest son died. How can a parent be expected to think clearly when that happens? But she blamed my father. Actually, she blamed my stepmother: some baseless bullshit about my step-mother not inserting the adrenaline needle properly during my brother’s final and fatal asthma attack.
After that, if my father stared at her the wrong way, she threatened to get full custody from him. She did this on a weekly basis. I don’t think it hurt my father as intended. He held all the legal cards. But it sure as hell hurt me. I would constantly worry about never seeing my father again.
Looking in the rear-view mirror as an adult, I hold no bitterness about it. Not anymore, anyway. I realized I would never move on until I forgave them. We all fail. I have too many times to count. I also realize she was just venting most of the time.
But when I see kids caught in the middle of a marriage in trouble today, I always return to the scars of childhood, real and imagined (when you’re a kid you imagine things, and if you grow up to be a head case like me, you REALLY imagine things).
I bring all this up because I know of a couple troubled marriages right now where children are involved.
In one case the parents are working hard to be honest with the kids and make sure they know they are loved. I don’t know what will happen to that marriage in the end, but I give the parents credit for trying to keep the emotional scars off their kids. If the marriage fails scarring will be inevitable. But the parents can do a lot to soften the blow.
Then there’s the other case. One parents tries to hurt the other by deciding not to babysit when scheduled. Of course, in this case it’s not babysitting. It’s parenting.
Then one parent has the child for the weekend and lies to the other about where they’ve been.
It’s not for me to get into who is right or wrong. I’m biased because I’m only getting one side of the story.
All I know is that it makes me sad. I can only pray that this child escapes with as little damage as possible.
Nobody likes it when someone’s marriage hits the wall. And when lawyers are brought in, you can expect ugliness to ensue because the lawyer’s job is to make sure his or her client wins.
Of course, in these situations, nobody wins. Some marriages need to end because it happened for the wrong reasons to start with or there was abuse. And sometimes people just change and what happens happens.
I just hope the kids make out OK at the other end of these dramas.
I have a few friends who are in crisis these days, making my own struggles seem trivial. Talking to them is a lot like living in the Twilight Zone. I’m used to being self absorbed.
Mood music:
[spotify:track:7bv9wNXN3FHKMRTMdi48fL]
I have to admit something: I’m not that good at being there for others. Lord knows I try, but I get so stuck in my own head sometimes that it’s hard to see what’s happening around me.
My failure on this front is most evident on the family side. Even before the relationship with my mother imploded, I always sucked at visiting my grandparents and calling siblings. I was always too busy with other things.
Actually, I was always obsessed with other things, some real, some imagined.
When my great-grandmother was dying, I kept meaning to go visit her. The week I finally planned to was the week she died.
I was terrible at visiting my Nana. Instead of loving her unconditionally, I was fixated on her quirks. Here’s the thing with a head case like me: It’s much easier to stew about someone else’s faults than your own. That may sound like a contradiction, since I talk a lot about being stuck inside my own head. But that’s part of the problem. People like me will come outside my own head for a few minutes just to spit on someone else’s quirks.
I’ve paid the price along the way.
I’ve had a lot of friends come and go in my life. Two of the closest friends died on me. It took a long, long time before I was willing to even consider getting close to anyone ever again outside my family.
And, as I mentioned earlier, family relationships suffered.
So here I am, a few years into recovery from OCD and addiction, and people are coming to me for a shoulder to lean on.
God has a way of giving you payback and blessing you with His grace at the same time.
I’m fortunate to have the friends I have, after all the fucking up I’ve done in life.
I hope I don’t let them down.
When I get tired and angry, I have this wall I put up. Erin is usually the one who crashes into it.
Mood music:
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PpAbUvl3eTk&fs=1&hl=en_US]
She’s been building a freelance editing business for the past year, and the hours she puts in would kill a lesser person. I’ve taken on a lot of extra things around the house to help, and for the last week or so the fatigue and frustration has set in.
Not frustration with Erin. Frustration over the situation.
This is a much better situation than what we faced several months ago, when all the freelance work dried up and we couldn’t figure out how we were going to get all the bills paid. Now there’s a ton of work, and at the end of the day we’re both wiped out.
The problem is that I don’t immediately catch on that I’m frustrated. I figure it’s just me going into OCD mode. I’m just tired, I figure.
That’s when I become a prick.
Erin will try to engage me in conversation and I’ll shut down. I put the wall up. I don’t realize I’m doing it, and that’s a problem.
For all the sharing I do in this blog, sometimes it’s still ridiculously hard to open up to those closest to me. I’ve worked hard on fixing that in recent years, but I’m far from there.
One reason is that I’m still a selfish bastard sometimes. I get so wrapped up in my work and feelings that it becomes almost impossible to see someone else’s side of things. That eventually blows up in my face.
I also don’t like to be in a situation where there’s yelling. There was plenty of that growing up, and I tend to avoid the argument at all costs.
I’ve gotten better at this stuff, but I know I still put that wall up at times. Putting up a wall can be a bitch for any relationship, because sooner or later bad feelings will race at that wall like a drunk behind the wheel of a Porsche and slam right into it. Some bricks in the wall crack and come loose, but by then it can be too late. The relationship is totaled.
I’ve come to realize this will always be a danger we have to watch for. It’s a danger in any marriage. Carol and Mike Brady never really existed. If they did, they could have used a few good fights. They wouldn’t have wasted so much time sitting up in bed reading boring books.
Now that I’ve gotten that out of my system, it’s time to put the big-boy pants on and get back to work on that wall.
Maybe one of these days I’ll tear it down once and for all.
This weekend a friend asked if I worry about passing the “crazies” on to my children. The answer: Every day. But here’s why I don’t despair about it like I used to.
Mood music:
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nZeybYbTblM&fs=1&hl=en_US]
First, a few facts: Some of my quirks were definitely passed down to me from my parents. The OCD comes straight from my mother, and the emotional wall I sometimes put up to deal with it comes from my father. That binge eating would become the root of my addictive behavior should surprise no one. It runs deep in the roots of the Brenner family tree.
I see signs of my defects in Sean and Duncan every day.
Sean has more than a few OCD characteristics. When the boy gets into something, be it a computer game or Legos — especially Legos — he goes in deep and lets the activity consume him. In other words, he approaches these things compulsively.
Duncan, like me, gets a bit crazy when the daylight recedes. His mood will swing all over the place and he has the most trouble in school during winter time. To help remedy this, Erin recently bought me and Duncan happy lamps — essentially sunshine in a box. Despite the skepticism Duncan and I shared over it, the things actually seem to be working.
I don’t curse the fact that the kids inherited some of my oddities. As far as I’m concerned, those quirks are part of what makes them the beautiful, precious children they are.
Here’s the thing: I don’t want to purge this stuff from them. I just want them to know how to control it in ways I never could at their age.
To that end, they have a lot going in their favor: First of all, the traits they’ve inherited from their mom will be priceless weapons in whatever fights are before them. She has given them — and me — a spiritual foundation that can’t be broken.
The other big win in their favor is that I’ve gone through a lot of the pain and hard work so that they hopefully won’t have to.
I’ve developed a lot of coping tools to manage the OCD, and I can pass those skills on to them.
There’s also not as much stigma around this stuff as there used to be. There IS some, to be sure. But my kids won’t be written off as behavioral problems and tossed into a “C group” like I was. I won’t permit it.
There are no certainties in life except that we all die eventually. I can’t say Sean and Duncan will never know depression or addiction. A parent can put everything they have into raising their children right.
But sometimes, despite that, fate can get in the way of all your hard work.
It’s not worth worrying about those unknowns, though, because you can’t do anything about it. All I can do is my best to give them the tools I didn’t have at their age and pray for the best.
One reason I don’t worry as much as I used to about these things: Sean and Duncan are much smarter than their old man was at their age.
That has to count for something.
A lot of folks have left comments on my post about homosexuality and depression. All of them are excellent, thoughtful responses and I hope you’ll check them out. But there’s one response I’m puzzled over.
Mood music:
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dOx37_h0UH8&fs=1&hl=en_US]
It came from David Nedlin, operations manager at Beyond the 12 Steps. He left the following comment in the “Mental Health and Addiction Specialist” forum on LinkedIn, where I sometimes post my blog entries: “Ridiculous post – I thought this was a somewhat serious web site.”
Now, I’m familiar with Nedlin’s work with recovering addicts and I have enormous respect for him. I sent him a message asking what his issue is with the post, and for all I know it’s a good reason.
Whatever the reason, his reaction reminded me that I occasionally have to clarify what this blog is about. With that in mind:
–I tackle various issues around mental health and addictive behavior based on MY OWN PERSONAL EXPERIENCES. I am not a medical professional, nor have I ever claimed to be.
–Like anything that’s based on one’s personal impressions, you should never take what I write as Gospel. Everything I write is based on my perceptions, which can be as flawed today as they were a decade ago.
–I figured this would be of service to some people because I reached the point where I can open up about embarrassing things I’ve done, so others may see it and realize they are not freaks and, more importantly, that there is light to be found at the end of the hellhole if you’re willing to walk toward it.
–The subject of homosexuality will always be a charged issue. I dove in because I’ve seen up close the pain friends and relatives experienced before they chose to come out of the closet.
–I also had to address it because it’s something that comes up a lot in my Catholic community. In one of the comments in Saturday’s post, a fellow named Nick put the matter in words that I think come closest to nailing it on the head.
All I know is this: I’m not sorry for tackling the subject, and those who don’t like it don’t have to come here.
One more thing: You’ll notice a lot of people wearing purple ribbons or posting pics of them on Facebook and Twitter. That’s in memory of the six gay boys who committed suicide in recent weeks/months due to homophobic abuse in their homes and at their schools.
If you think harassing someone for their sexual orientation is an example of God’s love, you’re an idiot.
If you dismiss these kids as wasted souls because they committed suicide, I don’t agree. When pain and fear remove your sanity and sense of logic, a mental illness has taken hold and you are more likely to do things you know are wrong. It’s not as simple as going against God. I’ve seen suicide cases up close.
We’re all guilty of going against God at various points in our lives. But some are lucky enough not to get so far away that death is the result.
It’s a tragedy that these kids were pushed over that line.
My prayers are with them and their families, and with anyone who is going through the pain right now.
I’m sorry if this has been a preachy post. But I said what I felt I had to say.
One of the big debates that has always irked me is about whether homosexuals are born that way or if they just wake up one morning and decide to be that way.
Having a gay sister, aunt and cousin-in-law, I have something to say about that.
I’m sure there are a few people who decide to give it a try as a lifestyle choice. That’s their business. But every gay person I’ve ever met didn’t just wake up on day and decide they were going to be gay. They had some serious internal struggles that brought them to the brink.
There was drug abuse. In my sister’s case, severe depression.
When she was a kid she badly wanted the whole fairytale family existence. She wanted THE wedding, THE husband and kids. She might tell the story differently, but I think the worst of her depression hit upon realizing she wasn’t that kind of person.
My cousin dove into years of serious drug and alcohol use.
Whatever the motives, I can tell you this: Only when they came out of the closet were they able to move forward and start living full, productive lives. Only then did the worst of the depression start to lift.
I don’t think a person who goes through that kind of hell just wakes up one day and decides they are going to be gay.
It’s in them at an early age, they try to keep the feelings at bay and become “normal” people. Hiding from your true self always comes with a price.
I think some of the priests who went on to sexually abuse parishioners entered the priesthood in the first place to escape who they were. A life of celibacy would surely do the trick, right?
Wrong.
This has always been a sensitive subject for me. I’m a devout Catholic and there are people in the church who like to go on about the sin of homosexuality. It always makes me think of the people I know who are gay.
I’m not sure what else to say about the matter, except that I choose to love people based on WHO they are, not WHAT they are.
Having experienced depression myself, I don’t wish it on anyone.
My faith tells me we have to accept people for who they are, even if we don’t get it. I can like the individual even if I don’t like their sins. Hell, I’m the last one on this planet who is in a position to judge someone else’s sins.
I have enough of my own to contend with.
Two very dear friends of mine are in crisis. I’m not saying who they are because it’s no one’s business. But I’ll tell you what: I’ve had a lot of friends come and go in my life. Two of the closest friends died on me. It took a long, long time before I was willing to even consider getting close to anyone ever again outside my family.
These two managed to break into my hardened heart and soften it. Their friendship is among those that have helped me heal along the way. Now they are in pain, and it makes me heartsick.
So I thought I’d take a moment and ask you all to keep these two in your prayers.
Thanks.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0QOFQIhLUgk&fs=1&hl=en_US]
