Self therapy from a man in the desert.

Mornings are a very electric time for me. All cylinders began to fire at once.  I throw a cupa coffee in and boy howdy. Unfortunately the cylinders begin to stop firing by five pm. 

This morning I’ve become reflective. Just how did I get here? Where did I lose the rose colored lenses. It’s hard to think about my childhood without making it seem like the world is to blame or my parents are at fault for everything. But allow me to try.  

I think as a child I had undiagnosed anxiety and anger problems. I think it was chalked up to just being an Indian kid. I was always very sensitive.  

My parents often left on Friday nights or Saturday nights to go to the casino. And sometimes my extended family would come down and all of us kids where left to our own devices. Unfortunately there was a lot of teasing directed at me. And if I got angry or sad it was my fault. Looking back I feel as though my feelings where always invalid. Even if I liked a song or a girl or a tv show I felt like I needed to keep that to myself because there was something shameful about it. So I hid. Like I’m hiding now.  

My parents tried there best with what they had. But I always had the ability to choose a parent as better over the other. And since my mother was the one I saw the most of. I chose her over my father. I feel as though we were allowed to disrespect him in a way I would never do now.  My father and I became closer after I went to college.  

Thats where I’m reflecting this morning. My childhood wasn’t all bad. I had some laughs. But when I think about my anxiety for opening up I feel like it started there. My happiness and my sadness are both invalid which I know now is not true. But it’s hard to get my head out of that particular grain of sand.  

Take care

-E-