Finding the road to healing and revisiting ghosts from your past. While I’m in a much better place today, I still have set-backs. Some are small and manageable, others require me stepping back into my counselor’s office. “Trauma isn’t just what happened. It’s also what you had to go through alone.” Feeling alone was a huge part of my past. Being unable to tell anyone what was going on or about the things that I was involved in was, at times, soul crushing. There was no way to be comforted. I learned early in my life to be small, invisible, and quiet.

“Robert is such a quiet guy, and so shy.” These kind of descriptions followed me throughout my school life. I never wanted to be noticed. The further out of the light that I could keep myself, the better everything would feel. I was hypervigilant all of the time. I could feel things that others would never pay attention to. While it was a service to me at times, it also caused me to be anxious and to fear relationships. I was unable to trust people and it was exhausting.

Things can happen in “ordinary” life that can trigger these feelings to surface. Sometimes it’s the smallest thing. The way something is said, a look from a person or, of course, verbal confrontation. There are so many times when I’ve found myself wanting to revert back to the scared child. Looking for an escape, a place to hide and not be seen. Oddly enough, the other side of this same coin is that as an adult, I get almost hostile when I’m not heard or seen. There was a turning point toward the end of high school where I became defiant towards my “boss”. I’d started to believe more in myself and my confidence was growing. A new and better life could actually be obtained. The internal battle raged.

I recently did a blog about my high school typing teacher. Telling you all how important she became in my turn around. The “it” factor that she possessed somehow transferred to me. I felt that everything she was telling me was true. So much so that I changed the direction that I had been heading. I’ve also stated that there’s a good possibility she was instrumental in saving me. I was finally able to meet her face to face recently. We had breakfast together at a local restaurant and then went back to her home where we discussed all parts of my life. She was inquisitive, thoughtful, gracious and had wonderful things to share. While she couldn’t place me in her mind from many moons ago, it didn’t matter. She’d welcomed me and wanted to hear my story. My main reason for reaching out to her in the first place was I wanted so much to tell her “thank you.” There are not many moments you get to sit down with someone so important to you and say what you really needed to say. I was gifted these moments in time, and I’m forever grateful for our paths crossing.

Ms. Osborn, my teacher was a ghost from my past that I needed to visit me again. I’d felt that there was unfinished business. I’ve found that I continue to look back at times to reach out to those who meant something to me. The ones who guided me even if they were never aware. The girl that I dated through most of high school would be another one of these ghosts. She was a bright light of hope during a time when all I knew was darkness. During the time we spent together, I was allowed to see the world through different eyes. We talked recently and she said that “I think you had more than one side and maybe that’s what you shared with me. Like a respite from the other.” Yes, it was a moment to breathe, to just be.

My road to recovering from my past was littered with so many who had hoped they could reach me. People who thought they’d found a way in, only to find that I’d already closed up and moved on. My random moments of anxiety, or shame were things that I was unable to express. To this very day I struggle sometimes to tell my own wife how I’m feeling, or why I’m feeling a certain way. Feelings of doubt climb into my head and I say things like “she doesn’t need to hear this” or perhaps “she’s heard enough and doesn’t need to hear this anymore.” The kid from the past then takes it all and places it in a hidden box. Stay small, don’t let her see you.

This, my friends, is why I blog. I can’t be the only one on the planet who has these kinds of feelings. In fact I know that I’m not. I had to seek out the ghosts that I knew could help me, once again, continue on the path that I need to stay on. Solid ground that will help me to move forward and be happy. In fact the parting words that my teacher shared with me were this. “Robert, live your life, live your life to the fullest and be happy.” Once again she said the right thing at the right time. A ghosts came to me and told me to be free of everything and live. It would be a disservice to her if I didn’t follow through with that. I may struggle, I may fall back a step, but I’ll never quit. Peace is right around the corner.

Thank you for following along on my journey.

~Robert~

I received word tonight that my Uncle on my Mother’s side of the family had passed away last night. He’d been battling prostate cancer and wasn’t fond of the side effects that were happening from the treatments, and decided to just let things be. I bring this up because it’s part of several topics that I’ve blogged about prior to this. Family, loss, and all the dynamics that come with humans. Grief and loss are so individual to each of us. Some may feel completely broken inside and others are able to move through the loss with what appears to be hardly a scratch. It’s a complicated subject, much the way that humans themselves are complicated. We’re messy, of that I’m sure.

The news of this loss was something that prompted a discussion among my siblings and my cousin. The dialogue was open and cordial. We truly care for one another and again, the dynamics of family made this an interesting discussion. I’ll start by saying that I hardly knew my Uncle Brian. I have a few scattered memories of him in passing at different points in my childhood, but for the most part, I never really had conversation with him. He was my mother’s brother, and was a man of God. There were secrets much the same as all families had. My Uncle had a tough childhood, but as for the extent of what went on, I’ll never really know. He appeared to be very quiet, and had a shyness about him. I know that he had a fondness for good bourbon, one that he shared with my Uncle David on occasions. Both men of the cloth and very educated. They had a talent for listening and obviously due to the chosen careers, had a gift for speaking. They were both very human, and had their flaws as we all do.

The discussion that was shared among our small group was along the lines of who people really are, and how we find ways to get through our lives. The things that have harmed us, and the things that have given us great joy. The relationships that were forged and the people that seemed to get left behind. There were certain times that I had to take a step back and evaluate my feelings about family, especially those that hovered on the far edge of it. The ones that I really didn’t get to know. This was one of those moments. The loss of a human life is tragic. No matter how I might feel, there are many that are devastated. Just because I didn’t get the opportunity to get to know my Uncle doesn’t mean that he was a lesser person, or that his passing shouldn’t be mourned. It made me feel sad that we didn’t get to know one another. That I wasn’t able to see all the special things he had to contribute to this world. It also made me sad that he never got to know me and all that I have to offer. Family, and the delicate inner workings always play a part in these things.

I realized once becoming of adult age that both sides of my family had serious communication issues. In fact, I discovered that even within my own family, the relationships that I had with my sisters was partially controlled by my mother. It was a tactic carried on from one family to the next. She’d learned the art of “divide and conquer.” If you tell one child one thing and then tell the other something different, there remains a fracture that only the person telling the different stories is able to control, or in their eyes fix. I found that I’d be angry at each of my sisters at different times, but the reasons for being angry were manipulated by my very own mother. I’m not saying this to bring shade to my mother, it’s what she knew, it was the way she learned in her upbringing. Once I’d discovered this, I sat with my sisters and made a pact that we would never let anything come between us. That we would keep our bond as siblings tight. We began a group text that was left open for each of us to reach out to one another. We took our control back. This may have been upsetting to my mother at first, but as time went on she discovered how wonderful it was to see all of us together at different times, and happy. Something that she struggled with within her own family. Fractured relationships stayed in place among her siblings, and in some cases all the way to their very deaths. This was something that I never wanted to see with my sisters. They were not only my sisters, but my best friends and closest allies.

The webs that we weave. Due to these many fractured relationships, I was never given the opportunity to learn about other family members. It was similar on my father’s side of the family. He didn’t get along well with his brother or my Aunt, so we didn’t get to be around our cousins. We were told stories that as adults learned were not true. I was always told that they were the “rich” Neeleys and didn’t want to be associated with bums from the wrong side of town. I learned to dislike all of them without ever even truly knowing them. When we were actually together, I felt nothing for them. I knew the stories, and they had to be true. Once again, as an adult, I searched for truth. I wanted to know who these people were that shared my name and bloodline. Why didn’t they like us? I felt the same when I was at my Uncle David’s funeral service. My uncle Brian and his wife were there and for the first time in my life I spoke up. I explained to them that while they didn’t get a chance to know us, I wanted to assure them that we were all very good people. That we were worth knowing and that I was sad that so much time had gone by without having that. My Aunt was taken back by my words, but I knew that I had to speak up. I’d seen too much in life to just let this opportunity go by. She stated that she was sorry that we didn’t spend more time together as well. The unfortunate part of this story is that we never did get that bridge built. My Uncle is now gone and yet another chance to make things right has been lost.

This brings me to what I have before me now. I have just one Aunt left on my mother’s side of the family. She’s a happier version of my mother and it makes me love her even more. I have a few cousins still around as well. A couple of which I’ve forged very close bonds with. (Yeah Rick, I consider us close). I just said tonight that I want to take in everything that I can in my life before I have to leave it. Family is a big part of it. I try to reach out as often as I can with those that mean the most. I’d like to push that further and get all involved. I’m also realistic enough to know that some will never desire these same things, and I’ve learned to be good with that.

Anyone that’s spent time reading my blog knows that I’ve been secretive and isolated for a good portion of my younger life. When I get my book out there it’ll shed more light on the how’s and why’s this happened. Spending so much time self isolating is not the answer, and leads to even more damage. I know now that being open and extending my hand out is the best way, even when it’s painful. Even when I feel that someone has wronged me. I need to know truth and the only way to find it is to be open. I owe that much to those around me.

I love my family. They’re unique, messed up and flawed…they’re all so very human. I’ll continue to be the best version of me that I can, and will always try my hardest to seek the truth. Once finding truth, I need to process it and find a way forward, no matter how complicated. I wish all of these things for those reading this now. This is my way of grieving the loss of a man that deserves to be grieved. This is how I find my truth. I’m sorry that I didn’t get to know him better and that we couldn’t be more in this world. He was loved, and he was human. Perhaps we’ll bridge the gap on the other side of life.

Thank you so much for following along…

~Robert~