Demon dance

"Devils and demons dance in my head"

I wrote that line when I was 18. Wrote it without understanding that I might recognize the struggle going on, but I still hadn't looked the characters in the eye. And that meant they would continue their disrupting dance for decades.

The blog post immediately prior to this was to remind me that point again. Inside the commentary, I can see ongoing actions that would be detrimental for way too long. And the unpublished memory of that same day adds to that understanding.

I come from a family and world where dealing with feelings was not taught, not displayed and not respected. That's tough on a highly sensitive man. But I learned the lesson of taking the feeling and shoving it farther down. And down. With whatever weight was required.

The prior post is my finding a feeling I couldn't hold back. The unpublished part is that after that funeral, I had to drive across the Texas Panhandle to the family burial site. It's a landscape where you can see any oncoming vehicle on the tiny two-lane ribbons literally miles and tens of minutes before you cross. So I loaded up on beer feeling invincible on those roads and too vulnerable inside.

It was the latest lesson I'd learned. If you need help getting those feelings out of the way, drown them, anesthetize them.

Here's the problem with any method of ignoring - it doesn't work. Never. For decades I put away feelings, jammed them way down until I couldn't see them anymore. But they kept knocking and probing until some incidental thing happened that created a crack. And while it seemed the incidental thing was being way overblown, in reality it was just pressure spewing everywhere and all of the sudden.

It never failed. I got a reputation for having a quick temper. But it wasn't really that. It was the voracity of the temper when it came out that made it seem so full blown and sudden.

The physical result was I've found years later I've repeatedly broken my hands and wrists. I've never seen a doctor over that specifically, never worn a cast, but only learned of the breaks and heals from a body scan looking for something in my back. Valuing people, I'm almost always hit inanimate objects - walls, trees, signs.

The emotional results is deeper and more prevalent scars. Those closest to me could never tell what was coming. Because I didn't know. But I had no idea how I felt at any moment, even in the midst of rage. And for anyone who cares about you, that's a precarious place to be. When it came to my emotional punches, I threw them right to the face of those who least deserved it.

I feel almost fortunate to have known people who were strong enough themselves to reach a point of refusing those emotional blows. With losing them, I have learned.

These days, I try to recognize what I feel. I try to let it be. Those around me still sometimes don't like it. But they get it in more bite-sized pieces that mean they can digest it and we can all move on. And I can feel at peace much more often, instead of having so many things fermenting inside my psyche.

If you're one of those who gets my bluntness, my uncomfortable honesty, who I tell I like immensely even when it makes them a tad squirmy, believe it's for the better. Better than dancing with the devil in the dark with no idea where the edge of the stage is.