Addiction

Dated 10-February-2007

There is a quart of water right next to me.  I’m trying to get my Diet going in the right direction again and Water is one of the things I need to work on.  I tend to drink incessantly, and water is better than any kind of soft drink. 

I’ve always drank incessantly, in fact, when I was a kid, the school thought I might be a diabetic.  The school sent a not home after noticing how often I was thirsty and how often I went to the bathroom.  When I took the note home my stepmother ridiculed me.  I never said anything about being diabetic or complained about being thirsty – I just asked to go to the water fountain a lot.  My stepmom decided to ridicule me though.  She launched into me about how I was just making it up to get attention.  She brought the entire family in on it too to witness it.

She did the same thing when I told her I might need glasses because I was having difficulty seeing the board at school.  She totally ranted on me about how I only wanted glasses for the attention.  What planet is she from where a kid in 8th grade WANTS to get glasses just for attention?

Granted, I DID want attention:  but not every action I did was some screaming out for it.  Besides, instead of embarrassing me for wanting attention, wouldn’t have made more sense, to, well, show me some attention?  My stepmom was such a bitch.

She wasn’t overtly abusive; she never did anything too severe.  She just slowly dismantled my self esteem. I seem to have dated a lot of guys who did the same thing.  Never realized how strongly she imprinted.  Time to break the behavior patterns’

I saw an interesting show on self esteem, addiction and quantum physics called “What The @#*& Do We Know”.  What I got out of it this time is:  all things bad that we do even when we know its bad are addictions – even emotions can be addictions.  Even though I know it will kill me, I eat MacDonald’s – I have an addiction to unhealthy food.  I tend to date people who try to lower my self-esteem because it’s what I was used to as a kid – I’m addicted to that kind of emotional input. 

The show said all the little things you do can form addictions, even emotions.  Your brain releases different chemicals for different emotions.  Your body is constantly flooded with these chemicals; you get used to them and then you crave them.  If you spend a lot of time angry, your body will start to crave the chemicals created when you’re angry and you will look for reason to get angry.  Even falling in love can be addicting take serial daters.  They start a relationship, feel the intense “in love” emotions at the beginning, sabotage the relationship and then do it all over again just to get the “honeymoon fix”.  This gives me a new way to look at some of the things I want to change about myself.  If I treat everything as an addiction – it might give me a better strategy to deal with them. 

The first one is to break the habit of feeling sorry for myself.  I can sometimes be pretty hard on myself and that’s part of the feeling sorry for me really.  It’s a circle of ridiculing myself after which I can say “poor me”.  When I start to call myself lazy, fat, and ugly and all the other self-deprecating comments – it’s all so I can feel sorry for myself.  If I think about it – this feeling victimization can also be why I date people who “beat me up” and why I don’t confront people who I feel behave inappropriately when I’m out.  It gives me something to say “poor me” about.

Poor me – My boy friend treats me bad.  Poor me – gay men are icky.  Poor me – I’m going bankrupt.  Why else would I have sat on my ass so long when I could have had the papers signed to sell the house months ago?  Poor me – I kept the house but now I’m filing for bankruptcy.

It’s almost as if there is one overriding addiction that leads into the rest.  I think I’m addicted to pity.  This might also explain why I hate pity so much.  I have said in the past that pity is a negative emotion coming from a place of superiority when you see some one deserving of pity.

So, all the times people told me to “buck up and stop feeling sorry for myself” – it was probably the best advice I could have been given.  By continuously being in and putting myself in positions where I felt sorry for myself – I’ve grown addicted to it.  I know this sounds simplistic – but it seems to make sense.  Look at all my vent-posts.  They are all about how the world has done stuff against me.  Only in my more lucid moments do I complain about my mistakes.

The old patterns of self-victimization need to end.

Another Day Older

Dated 30-June-2007

I was asked if I enjoyed getting older this past weekend.  In all honesty it was just another day.  I even forgot the date Sunday as I was filling out a form, and Sunday WAS my birthday.  I have never really been hung up on numbers.  I know people dread the 5’s and the 10’s, but except for the magic of 18 where you can vote and receive adult status and 21 where you can by your own alcohol, it’s all just another day.

I don’t even know most of my friends’ ages.  I have realized that when I am conscious of a person’s age, it means we are on different levels and probably won’t ever really connect, as friends or anything else.  When I connect with truly connect with someone they become “same” to me, when I don’t, they remain “different”.

While I loved Eric – he was always “younger” and I was always saying to myself I needed to be the mature one or the one in control.  There was always a dynamic of “different”; in this case it was definitely the age difference.

I don’t want a father/son dynamic in my relationships.  Well, honestly, I DID want it, but not consciously.  I guess I was somehow trying to make up for my dad being such a non-entity for most of my childhood.  By being a “better dad”, I could show him up and set myself up as better than he.  I already know that, so why act out all this drama?  Therapy can do wonderful things.

I, like most people, subconsciously search for what I’m missing.  There are voids left in childhood that we seek to have filled.  The thing is, only WE can fill them now, though we constantly expect others to do it for us.  The best other can do is put on a cast – we still need to do the healing.

It leads to relationships.  A truly healthy relationship works if both people enter into it as pre-existing whole people, not as two incomplete shells looking for someone else to make them whole.  My friend Jericho says back yard burials make relationships work, while backyard burials are SOOO convenient for SOOO many thing, I’ll stick with “two whole people.”

I look at Jerry McGuire now and the line “you…  complete me” is SUCH a crock of shit.  I’m not saying that two incomplete people can’t make it work, but they both have to let the other grow and be mature about it and actually need to let each other HEAL.  It seems to usually end up in anger because someone isn’t “living up to expectations.”  What is it:  co-dependant rage?

Now, if I can only put my mastery of psychobabble to use for good instead of evil.

I’m seriously thinking I don’t want to date anymore:  I think I may stop.  Gay men, in general, seem immature and overly damaged with no desire to fix said damage.  The over glorification of youth (50 year olds at a rave) or the over glorification of sex is just not my thing, and it seems to be what “gay culture” is based on.  No one wants to fix anything:  they just want to white wash it with fashion, drugs and sex.

I think the idea is to “think outside the para-dig-em”.  I’ve been trying to create my own paradigm for years.  I’m not gay enough to be gay and suck too much dick to be straight.  I don’t quite feel a part of either “world” so I have been constantly creating my own for like 15 years now.  Its tiring, and with my borders being so fluid, I find myself easily swayed from the course <b>I</b> want to the course of the person I want to be with.  My friend  Blackie said that being single is the best way to find ones self.  I’m all about that these days.

Homo-dom, you have had your chance:  I’m officially giving up on you as we have apparently found each other mutually lacking.

Thoughts

The thought manifests the word,
The word manifests the deed,
The deed develops into habit
And habit hardens into character
So watch the thought and its ways with care,
And let it spring from love
Born out of Concern for all beings…
As the shadow follows the body,
As we think,so we become.

– From the Dhammapada, Sayings of the Buddha.

I read this and It hit me like a brick.  I have had this discussion with both <lj user = gigawattwarlock> and my shrink.  Words and language are SO much more important than we ever give them credit for.  Think of it,language is so important there is a special part of the brain just to deal with it.  I think what we don’t realize is how important the words we use to OURSELVES are.

People seem to accept that when the people around  them use derogatory words toward them (you’re stupid, you can’t do anything right,you’re ugly, your fat) that these words will eventually do harm and people will eventually come to look upon them as fact.

Now, replace all the “you’s” with “I’s”.  People do this CONSTANTLY, but never seem to realize that it is MORE harmful than if others use these words.  It will sink in and become fact MUCH faster if you use the words yourself.

When I was younger, one of the churches I attended taught to me that “if you think the thought, you have already committed the sin.”  In the christian sense of things (eternal hell fire and pain) this is a scary concept.  All it really taught me is that if I’m going to hell for THINKING the thought, I may as well DO the action and get some of the pleasure from it.  If I’m going to pay the price – I may as well get my money’s worth.

In the Christian sense of things, you think the thought and get scared, think of yourself as an evil person and proceed to beat your self up and denigrate yourself in a hope that God will forgive the truly evil hateful person that you TRULY are on the inside.

I think in the Buddhist sense the lesson taught is more accurate.  If you think the thought, you have done damage.  If you think the thought enough, you will act.  The idea is to not “beat your self up” for thinking the thought.  Meditate on the thought, get to know it, find out where it comes from and why it felt the need to speak.  What did thinking that thought REALLY mean and what needs is it trying to have met.

I have also realized that this is like a seesaw, as MANY things in life are:  Cause and Effect, Karma.  The thought becomes the action – but the action becomes the thought.  There is the saying “the first time you commit murder is the hard one, it gets easy after that.”  The ACT of committing a deed will reinforce in the mind the thoughts of that deed.  Cause-effect, effect-cause.

So, in this life, you need to treat yourself right and THINK of yourself right.  Pay attention to your thoughts, when you think negatively – be a sap and make your self say positive, reaffirming words in your head.

It does seem to work.  I am an expert at self-deprecation.  I am teaching myself to become an expert on self-celebration and love.

Faith and Ignorance

Dated 2-March-2005

Religion seems not to be working in modern society. The reason this may be so is that religion is conforming to modern society. I don’t mean to say that the moral values of religion are changing, but that religion no longer requires people to think. Religion used to be about meditation and using the word of god as a guide to the right answer “think about your sins”. Now it’s about how fast you get through your “Hail Mary’s” and the tithing bowl. It’s about taking the words in the bible and thinking they are FACT and not just the writings of MEN and used to guide you to the right action.

In this world of mass media and thirty-second information clips, God has become a sound bite. Prayer is something you repeat like a mockingbird amongst the living dead of Sunday service. Understanding is no longer thinking but accepting what the man on the pulpit is saying.

Religion has gone the way of the nation with Jesus-burgers and orders of Mc-Holy-Spirit fries, super-sized for a first-class ticket to heaven for those who can afford it. Is this trend, probably an old one, what caused the 60’s counter revolutionaries to turn to eastern religions? These religions are more firmly based on meditation and turning inward for answers. What I find interesting, is that in my reading, the early people of these movements, Buddhism in particular, seem to have used the eastern schools as ways of reconnecting and reaffirming their faith in their “original” religions. The each pretty much attribute this to the mediation practice in the eastern schools.

It is just interesting to me that there seems to be a social pandemic of ignorance, a lack of thinking. This pandemic is even present in the religious institutions of our society. I know that in the past not every person stood up to debate religion and politics, but I think more people did, and even more people cared. The self-instituted ignorance of this society seems to be married to indifference. In the past, even the common person would get riled over something he thought of as unfair. Now we sit calmly in our houses and don’t care as long as the epicenter of trouble is far enough away from our bank accounts and big screen TV’s.

Where is the cause and effect of all this is, I don’t know. How to fix it, I couldn’t begin to guess, except with myself. Only I can make me think. Only I can keep myself informed. Only I can get involved in the issues about which I care. Only I can make me care about those issues to begin with. Only I can sit, think and try to feel a connection with something larger than myself. Any mindless drone can sit in a pew and blindly accepting the opinions of the person up front and call it faith. True faith is hearing the words, questioning them deeply, and still believing. Faith is internal, sitting in the realm of thought.

The March

Dated 29-March-2005

I am beginning to have the feeling that I am no longer living my life but simply living. This is not to say that I don’t like my life, because I do; I’m comfortable, I’m content. However, my life seems to be becoming routine.

I have my job to take care of and the dogs to take care of and myself (with my personal trainer) to take care of. All these things while necessary are scheduled. I have a time and place to be almost every day. Moreover, the times that aren’t scheduled are usually spent dickering around on the computer playing “World of Warcraft”. Even the weekends are quasi-scheduled. I need to clean the house and do my shopping. I think I may even be filling my time with computer games to help avoid dealing with it.

I like to call myself a writer. I once heard that “…you have two choices, you can live your life, or you can write…” Why can’t you do both? And if you don’t “live your life”, what is there to write about. Shopping lists and meetings? Not everyone can be “William Carlos Williams” jotting down his daily life in verse on a prescription pad. If one has no life experiences, what can one write about?

I used to be the guy who danced in the dairy section and climbed the statues in parks and ran around making a general idiot of myself. It was fun. It was exciting. It was life. Now, I have “things to do” and less time to “just do things”. Is this what it means to be grown up? Is a mid-life-crisis simply the fact that you’ve become aware of these changes? In any case, it sucks. However, to try to grab it back seems fake to me somehow. It’s like being stuck between rock and a soft place.

Right Livelihood

Dated 1-March-2005

Published in “Shambhala Sun” magazine

https://www.lionsroar.com/forum-essays-4

“Right livelihood” is a phrase that I find to be not very well defined. Like much of Buddhist phrases, I feel it is left intentionally vague to allow the practitioner to develop their own thoughts on what is and is not right livelihood. Of course, there are basic guidelines to help guide the practitioner in his thoughts. This vagueness of definition also allows the practitioner to change their mind definition as their practice matures.

I chose my career right out of college, thirteen years ago, long before I ever paid any serious attention to the dharma. With what I have learned of the Buddha’s teachings, I do not consider my career to be right livelihood. I’m an engineer and design equipment that uses huge quantities of oil and gas; both as raw material and fuel. This equipment contributes to pollution and the problem of dwindling natural resources.

Working in the engineering world, I am required to make certain sacrifices for the purpose of my career. In addition to ignoring my part in furthering our planet’s deterioration, I also feel the need to disavow my relationship with my partner. He is referred to as my “roommate” or as “a friend”. In my first position, I tried to integrate being a gay man with being an engineer. This attempt did not end well. My co-workers no longer wished to work with my and my position with the company stagnated until I felt I needed to leave my position. I have not referred to anyone I was involved with truthfully since this; breaking the precept of being truthful.

There is an underlying feeling of futility to my practice. This is partially due to my career being at odds with what I see as the Dharma and right livelihood. Lately, my company has been in the news in relation to the Middle East. With charges of profiteering and their aiding a military action I do not agree with, I feel I am working for the enemy of the dharma.

No; I do not feel my job is right livelihood. My career causes an underlying feeling of pointlessness to my practice. What sense is there in trying to practice right livelihood when I spend most of my time at, and support myself with something I consider to be contrary to right livelihood. But, how does one pay the bills and meet other financial obligations when one leaves a well-paying, yet Dharma-less career? I’m sure there is a solution to this koan, but I have not yet experienced career satori and have no answers.

Vixen – a love of my life

Dated 30-March-2005

My emails smiled at me stupidly. They’ve been sitting in my in-box for a week and I’ve been ignoring them. They have yet to go away. Maybe tomorrow I’ll answer them. I feel a little guilty about not dropping at least a little line to the writers of these missives. But with a few clicks there’s a new world and the guilt disappears almost as fast as my monitor changes images.

I dive into myself trying to hide as the phone rings. Once, twice, three times; I let it ring. On the fourth ring, I turn the speakers on my PC down and listen to the answering machine.

Coming through the machine tinny 2″ speaker is my friend Laura’s voice. This is surprisingly one of the calls I want to take. I generally regard phones as evil and avoid using them when I can.

I grab the receiver off my desk, hitting the eerie green button. “Hey babe!”

“Hey, Petey, how’s it going?”

“Uhh, pretty good. I’m just sitting here cruising the net; you?”

“Just finished some yoga and thought of you…” From here the conversation is pretty much about nothing. I try to do things while on the phone, but it’s all pretty useless. I’m retarded when it comes to telephones. If I try to do anything else; I lose all trace of the conversation. I end up lying on my bed staring up at the ceiling fan.

I miss Laura a lot. She was my best friend and still is even over all the distance. We had such similar styles and tastes without being anything alike: Shakespeare and pizza, Kevin Smith and Bordeaux, beer and chain smoking until last call. COCK-PORN. Which really isn’t porn, but a super-spoonerism of POP-CORN I accidentally said before we saw a movie once. A Kevin Smith film actually, Dogma. I remember the Platypus Line.

Laura and I also shared a love of books, writing and long boring marathons of British Television: “I, Claudius” and “A History of England”. I’m glad Laura’s and my genders are romantically non-functional, with us both liking penises, because we probably would have tried dating, and I’d have hated that to fuck up our friendship.

Laura and I have been through a lot together. Like when she quit her job and was depressed and I started spending money like a congressman with a budget, bad relationships, good relationships and common friendships.

Then I moved to Texas for love and money. Both, for the most part, are working out. I am still in love and that’s going better than any relationship I’ve ever had. I’m still living paycheck to paycheck though. But now there’s a mortgage and a feasible end to my other debt. Its a good feeling.

Laura is about the only thing I really miss about moving; her and my other friends. Everything else was really just memories, history and perceptions; all illusions in the whole Buddhist scheme of things.

“Well, Petey, it’s getting late up here, I should turn in.”

“Same here. I have things to do before I turn in. Night babe.”

“Night Petey, talk to you later, Pets the dogs and kiss Thieu for me.”

As I hang up the phone, a feeling on loneliness comes over me. I miss Laura. I walk into the living room ands see Otis in the hall. His big golden eyes stare up at me from his big lab face. “Hey Otis.” and his tail thumps into the wall. I bend down and pet his chocolate coat. The fur is soft and warm under my fingers, like the feeling of a favorite stuffed animal from my youth.

In the living room, Oscar is sleeping on the sofa. He looks up at me as I walk to the couch. “Hey Squirt”. His little rotti nub wags a mile-a-minute. I sit on the sofa next to him and lie down, using him as a pillow. I feel his nubbin rub against my shoulder as I pet his course black coat.

From the other room, I hear T shout. He’s watching some sporting event. I get up from the sofa and walk into the library. Thieu sits on the futon grabbing the green sheet we use as a cover. I guess something exciting is happening. I stand next to him and gently scratch the back of his head. Trying not to disturb his game too much. when the next commercial comes on i lean down and kiss him. “Night honey”.

He looks surprised “you’re going to bed already? What time is it?”

“It’s only 9:30, I’m just tired.”

“O-Kay. I’ll be in after the game.” I lean down and kiss him again as the commercials ends and he turns back to the game. “Night…”

I go back to the bedroom and crawl into the sheets. Thoughts of Laura fill my head, and the dogs and T. I’m filled with sweet sadness as I miss Laura and love my new life. Sleep creeps up on me and steals my thoughts as I drift off.

My Son

Started 16-March-2017 (first and last stanzas)
Finished 12-July-2026

Come here my son and let me tell you
of the world today
The horrors that you hear a bout
are here and here to stay

The charlatans and tricksters who
will lead you far astray
The liars and the cheaters who
your heart will surely flay

The crooks and thieves and swindlers
who on you will try to prey
The petty slights and subtle wrongs
that slowly chip away.

And try to rob you of your soul
and sweet naivete
Just hold on tight and be yourself,
things might just be ok.

It will not be ‘til you are old
that you’ll feel this dismay
But it will start, sooner than not,
but maybe not today.

Now go my son and see the world
but heed you what I say.
Go run a long out with your friends
to run and shout and play

Scars

Dated 25-March-2011

I want this taint removed,
The stain of grief and life and age
Returned to youthful ignorance
Damage healed, scars erased,
Returned to ignorance of life