Fallout

This blog was writen in early 2006 a day after a therapy session.

As he drove home from the session a tape of 80's music played. Music he could sing along to in an attempt to keep from thinking about what was discussed during the hour he spent with his therapist. The memories of his distant yet paradoxically close past were an evil, an evil he had no choice but to revisit again and again if he were to heal and learn to replace the shame that brings about anger. It is difficult for him to understand how he, as a very young child, could take over the shame that should've been taken on by HIM. After all, HE was the one who did what should never be done to a child yet HE could put up boundaries and The Child knew not how. How to put up boundaries, build walls, avoid responsibility. That children learn from adults. How to hurt others and not feel bad about it is also taught to children by adults. So is not needing to help the defenseless. So, why grow up? Who will protect The Child if adults won't? Who will love The Child unconditionally if adults won't? Who will celebrate his birthdays? Or are birthdays not important? The Child needs protection and he realizes so do many, many others. There are so many who need help and The Child knows what it's like to not get it so he does all he can to help others. Perhaps he does too much, tried too hard.
He arrives home feeling emotionally drained and exhausted. Still not wanting to revisit the session. The next day he goes to work. Him and The Child he's been protecting all these years, all by himself. He can't do it alone anymore. Although a grown man he needs desperately what he can't get. Although "married" his wife lives elsewhere and can no more give him what he needs than a cold stone statue that stands as a sentinel over an empty park. No one there to hold him and tell The Child it was not his fault, you’re going to be fine. Things will get better. You are loved as much as you love others He’s not in a state to work today and provide help to others so he goes home and, in a world of friend’s, retreats to his room to console himself and tell The Child, "It's not your fault".