Me and Mildlife and...III

[CT1118]

This post is for me, but first -

Mach1, You have nailed it. I am being a tad premature (only 2 pages) but I have read this dmn place for 4 months looking for anything that hits my sitch in the bullseye and so far, Truegritter is doing it. Please, no comments, I would like to read it pure and through, I did not skip to your mentions, want to take it in.

To continue with my IC session, by not beginning with my IC session...

In 2000, I lived in Charleston, SC. I think this took place in summer, but its hard to tell - summer seemed to last from April thru December there and that was good by me, I loved it. Anyway, It was hot, I was on a barrier island planting trees. I worked for extremely rich people there, which should speak volumes, I am from DC and I know rich, but DC had nothing on SC rich. It was brutally hot, I was taking a break by my truck, and smoking a cigarette. I remember this clearly. The couple who was building on this old plantation showed up for some reason, I guess to review what they had bought as in the land they hired me to plant (I had never met them other than via the credit card). The woman, way older than me as I was 24 at the time, walked up to me. Her clothes indicated, but I knew that accent immediately, German:

"These are the oaks we ordered, the oaks of the south?"
"Yes mam, they are. These are live oaks, they should live beyond us."
"You smoke with tension, I smoke with tension too. But I do not smoke that often anymore."
I was not aware that I did. I told her as much, we began talking about her trees. Eventually,
"You are German, I can see it."
I responded to her in German that my mother was from the state of Hesse and continuing in German asked how she knew (I am dark skinned with dark hair from the mixed race on my dad's side and far from the mental image of most people's idea of German). She replied in English and did not speak German with me at all.
"Do you know why there is tension and aggression in you? I see it in your face, particularly your jaw."
Freaking me out, I do not recall what I said, but it begged the answer I do recall.
"Generations of war, I would bet your family fought in all of the wars (they had, my grandfather took Paris in 1940, his father sat outside it in 1915). The tension is in your body. It is genetic in all Germans - the tension."
I am not sure how the conversation ended or where it went form there, it did not stay there, but that portion, I am not going to forget, she was so intuitive. I did not agree with her at the time, seemed silly, but she had a point...

My mother knew how to give pain. She was codependent, she was abusive, and she was selfish - still is these thing (abuse no longer physical, but verbal on my dad). But, she also knew how to hide the above when necessary. She was incredibly intelligent, her emotional intelligence was amazing, she was charismatic, and despite the former, the woman had astute compassion when she sensed it necessary - still is these things. She taught me how to be all of the above.

That German woman on the plantation had a point. The Germans after WW2 who left for a more peaceful life carried shadows of horror. I get why it could not be shaken by blood passage. My mother's stories of being my son's age in Frankfurt, of being bombed, of her mom sleeping with Englishmen for sundries, of being stabbed for someone's entertainment - that is horror. That stains a soul. My bother and I could never share her experiences, but we could share her pain as she dealt it to us. I smoked my cigarettes with tension, it was in me, particularly in my jaw. So I was told.

I must have worn it well for all but those privy to the intrinsic me. In my IC's office yesterday morning...
"I told my wife a story she had not heard, I have saved two lives, maybe more. I was a life guard, but then it was my job, so I don't count it, I don't even know, but the two when I wasn't...those count. She knows about when I saved my dad's life, but not about a boy I pulled from a river. He was looking at me and screaming for help, he was drowning in whitewater. I got him, cost me the skin on my knee, many stitches, scarring on the skin."

"That's amazing, but it sounds like you, what I know of you"

"I don't know if it's related, but after that I noticed a strange pattern began in my life. People give me things. At first I thought it was just women who...found me attractive, but it's men too, everybody. It still happens to this day. Not a pattern I can put my finger on. I have had cashiers tell me to take groceries when there was a mistake on the receipt, gotten free jewelry, free concert tickets, it just happens and its strange. But I have noticed, my son has this too."

I told her her about the Christmas when my son and I were outside playing when he was two and an old man who looked like he needed money (we lived in what most would think a 'hood' b/c I we were poor) stopped his truck and gave my so twenty bucks b/c he was inspired, how I have gotten free admission to kids theme parks b/c the attendant thought my son was funny, more recently, how total strangers in the past two weekends I have had him asked to take our picture because they "liked our energy".

Now, for how this fits, I am ridiculously good at life. I am hopefully teaching my son to enjoy it; being a father feels like my 2nd mission (self is the first). But sometimes there are people who can see it - see my shadows. Sometimes I want people to see it, sometimes not and they see it regardless. The story above led my IC to ask me why I could do so much good, have the world give it back back, and still deem it necessary to find myself with relationships like that of my mother - loving those who are incredibly talented, intelligent, and astute, but who carried pain they deemed necessary to project onto others...i.e. to shadow?

I knew the answer. I feel horrible for knowing it now. The answer smacks of ego, a life sought from control, a life built so that I could receive the positive feedback I was/am addicted to. Yet, I have done so much digging, so much deep searching, so much introspective shinning...I have sought a life that I believed to be altruistic. I have been so damaged inside of me this whole time, I thought the only way to "cure" me was to give as much back to others as I could. This has resulted in a life of accolades, awards, and acknowledgements - publicly and privately. I have helped so many people, they have told me about it. I have built a life, a career, a profession made upon rescuing others and the entire time I projected, the tension of me could not be resolved inside of me. But now I have dug so deep that I fear I have dug through to the other side.

I almost feel guilty for why I help - it makes me feel good...on the ego level, the first layer, the exposed layer. A perfect example, I have just joined the Red Cross as a disaster responder. It is noble for sure and my motivations have been more realized and pure than ever before in my life, but I am so confused as to whether it is wrong to do so knowing that I take some syncopated pleasure in the self reward?

It sound so vein, I don't want it to be yet it is, I have always wanted to help others as that was what I never received. And now, have I gotten so good ad the heroism of it that I cannot even recognize the recognition from the reward? And to even post/say/express this ideation here feels way dirty out loud. This is from journal tonight:

"I was told at work yesterday, after explaining to a fellow manager that my staff had a bad attitude towards the organization, that 'they continue to perform because they respect you, that is why the morale is high in the face of upper leadership'. I was told a week ago that I am amazing father by my wife's best friend. In the past two weeks, total strangers have asked to photograph my son and and I because we 'inspire' them, my wife told me yesterday that she 'admired me', Two of my best friends told me I was 'the strongest person they knew', my professor told me that I was 'an excellent student'. my IC told me that I was so advanced in psychology that I could do her job or write a best selling novel. Most important...my mom told me she was proud of me. Two days ago, my on told me he loved me, and I did not say it first."

I cannot help but feel not worthy to any of this. I have helped many. I want to help more. Yet, I feel now my motivation for 'wanting' this have been so wrong from the start. Is it wrong to want to help others so that you can feel better about yourself>? This is how I feel right now, and I feel this is dumb ass thing to ask.

What I told my IC when she asked..."What part of you is she in conflict with?"

"She is conflict with the pieces of me I am struggling to resolve. The pieces of me which make her feel she is 'not good enough for me'. She thinks I am too good for her, she told me that; the problem is, I have never felt like I am good enough for anyone, mostly me. I create problems to force myself to believe I am a bad person, she does this too - it was the first thing out of her mouth when I asked her about the affair, neither one of us can believe we are good."

When you are everyone's hero, who's shoulder do you get to cry on? I don't want to a hero to anyone except me, but if I truly wanted not to be, I should have chosen not to be a father. I chose otherwise, I am a father. At this point, I just want to know what is so f'king special, if anything, so I can pass it on without feeling fake. I can't help but to want to shine through my son - that motivation is at least honest. The rest of me...I am searching, and that is honest too, I still smoke my cigarettes with tension, if you could see me,I have been told its in my jaw. S5 called it he "Hulk" in my blood. Jesup Christo I don't want that, it means I still have a whole lot of work ahead.