In Moments of Dark Despair
On The Periphery
There is always a quote or a verse for every occasion.
I have stacks and notebooks and walls full of them. Can't think of a single one to head this dreary upcoming piece.
I finally fell asleep at 4am thinking of the ones I CAN trust: my 2000+ books. Why else would they be insulating my walls?
I am too broken to write.
It may be the biggest taboo, but I cannot be the only one who has been broken by their own child.
I think of all the mothers who have children with bad habits. I am thinking of drugs, of course. But what about the junkies who also walk the streets? How do these mothers cope?
My son is mentally unwell. Nobody sees it. Not really and definitely not consistently nor how pervasive it is and what it would take to remedy it. It leaves me the broken one: shattered by the windmills of her own mind, as if she went to stand under the mowing sails, arms raised to heaven to have her limbs chopped off and then her head. I don't know how low to the ground they mow, see! I may be having delusions of grandeur by imagining I am tall enough to be destroyed by the wind.
The reason I am writing any of this down here, is because in my hour of need I could think of only one person (from this platform) who stood far enough outside my circle, steady doing his own thing, fishing away in the cacophony of life for some sweet little melody, who could calm me down enough to pull through the night. It is interesting for me to note how that worked, just like that, out of the blue, since I am currently researching "peripheral identity" which is that I-that-I-am-in-the-other's-eye. It is not so much about what people think about you or that they are actively rooting for you; it is how everybody you ever meet potentially contributes to this identity and remains tied to it for as long as you keep them "in mind".
I am prone to take whole busloads of individuals along with me, finding my etheric field rather sticky in such instances. So I must have hundreds of thousands of strands gradually falling away out of "mind" or out of my "life"(the etheric body is a life-force body).
Extra interesting that you stood strongest, just doing your thing, while your world also has let you down.
That is how inspiration works. In teeny-weeny particles of dust, star-seeds, which help cool the overheated, oversaturated substance back down. The reminder.
For more on the type of star-seed I mean read: 
Photo of windmill at top by Kent Pilcher on Unsplash
You may rest assured that limbs severed by the wind grow back again, and pain never hurts so much the second, third or fourth time...
This reminds me of something that happened over the holidays. I visited my family for the first time in two years, for the first time since my son was born. On January first, after days and days of my step father, my mother and my eldest brother (21) heavy drinking, a fight broke out between my eldest and youngest brothers, blood and crawling on the floor and screaming threats of death... I had never seen something like this. They took the little one away and a verbal fight that seemed to last forever between my brother, mom and her husband started, all the while refering to my brother having "emotional issues" and having spent "5,000$ in shrinks" on his behalf and there having been no improvement. I was hiding in the next room with my husband, listening but thinking it was not right for me to step in, because my step-father's energy is just too big and too drunk and too harsh for me to handle (I had had a taste of his drunken, poisonous rant two nights before). Drugs came into the issue as well, and when my brother accused the other two siblings of smoking weed too, his father did not believe him, even though I saw them smoking too. (Im not selling them out, that is not my party).
There is a fine line between emotional distress and mental illness, and maybe drugs are not as bad as other things. I think weed actually helps my brother, and I hope he will be strong enough to quit it when he stops needing it. I just wish my mother could understand that.
But mother's are made of some harder type of stardust, aren't they? For better and worse.
A distant hug for you in your dark hours.
I am ready to agree with you how drugs are not as bad as mental illness....but there is of course no compare in any of such things.... Often the two are intertwined, anyway (not in the case of my son, but is that a small fortune in the midst of a never ending pool of disorientation?). I have a passionate distaste of drugs, however, probably matching my loathing of autism, as a dark entity that may or may not have the one-so-disposed in its grip. (Not every one with autism is handicapped by it....sigh, I add this formally and routinely, but would rather trust my poetic, metaphysical writings need not always cover everybody's complex sensitivities.) It's the loss of freedom that gets me: how we give it away so casually; even in how autism is now in a pre-genetic stage basically because we are careless in who we love (super provocative statement based on personal observations only... but there will always be a head-preference over a heart-preference in matters concerning the autism spectrum).... Furthermore, mark my words, it's just a question of time before we have set autism in our DNA as if carved in stone. Our bodies being the temples they are, after all...
Your biographical anecdote is powerful, I can feel its tension (still) and it makes me wonder about the nutty karma we create for ourselve in our angst and frustration. Getting along in a Brotherhood of Man remains a hippie dream so far!
The hug works wonders!
Often thought about your last (unanswered) question to me about nourishing a child anthroposophically. It felt to me you are right on track in your own intuitive way. How is the little 'un flourishing? Any pressing thoughts regarding your general curiosity, or for specific tips just drop me a line, otherwise I wouldn't really know where to begin. In any case, I never left you "dangling". You know how my etheric field works!
The little one is less little every day and I grow bigger with pride. I recently (ten minutes ago) watched a video called How to not screw up your kids. It's an interview to Dr. Gabor Mate. He also speaks about adiction and capitalism and the poisons of materialism in other videos. I think he's right on target. He says the first and most important thing you must give the child is happiness, in the sense that you have to be happy yourself so he can learn what happiness is. This I knew from the beginning, that is why I haven't fled Venezuela in search for a 9 to 5 job and a poor-immigrant status that would bring absolutely no joy to me, to him or to my husband. I rather struggle with the lacks common to socialists regimes anywhere, and gain all the human warmth that comes from shared toils.
The second thing he says we ust give children is our presence and the unspoken message that they are welcome in our lives.
So after hearing this two things a lot of questions about potty training and weaning have just fled my mind at the moment. That is the one struggle I do have, though. I still breastfeed him even if he's over two, but he REALLY likes it and it breaks my heart everytime I try. So I've just reduced it to night-time waking and ill-temper in the mornings.
Are you planning to stick around for a while on steemit? With you and @ehr.germany around I have a better incentive to find the time and write articles.
I'm finishing the last touches of a (very) short novel. I hope you'd like to read it when it's done?
By the way, I don't hate drugs, I'm curious about a few, but I think they are to be respected. I don't believe in the concept of 'recreational' drugs. And I do agree with you: they hinder freedom. I'm writing about this subject for an article, maybe we can discuss the subject further then :)
Don't know about the sticking but for sure it makes a difference to find a few familar and sound writers/ musers around worth checking in for. If this small group of interested readers/moral supporters manage to pop in, at least, weekly my incentive is sound for now, amounting issues AFK providing....
Already placed a comment on drugs in a response to Kimberlylane to get the juices flowing on the subject. Needless to say I have studied this particular subject from an esoteric (anthroposophic) perspective to understand (really and not socio-politically) what these substances can do for us (positively/negatively, mainly the latter now, but definitely significantly positively back in the clairvoyant days, before the Dionysian cult fell into a decadent Bacchus cult .... ) but much of this material is quite heavy on the esoteric side. So I might sit this one out to avoid running into clichés. Equally needless to say, you write an excellent piece on how to start off by not being hysterically indoctrinated by stereotypical prejudices (damning the taker and blaming the drug is equally pointless).
It IS a very complex topic about deep things with the substance but a marker. Just don't get me started on Ayahuasca.... or I am going to have to get brutally polemic. Nothing happy-clappy about it (spend a week with a tribe, fine, don't get on their nerves, but it makes a fine anthropological experiment), otherwise I hope you get entangled by a love-vine and are strangled by it (yep, witnessed some bitter experiences with cult developments around this new trend of detoxing the soul).
(Somehow had you located in Mejico... signs of a deteriorating - or very exhausted - brain!).
Of course, I will read your novel! Long or short! Sticking an Orange (or mango) prize on it already. Not in audio book form yet?
I am sorry you're experiencing such dark moments. (((HUGS)))
I have lived through some of the pain and anguish that go along with a child using drugs. Reminded me of an old poem I wrote several years ago, so I posted as another mother who has experienced the dark hours, hands tied, head being wind-milled.
https://steemit.com/freewritepoetry/@kimberlylane/meconium
Beautiful poem....how wondrous that double meaning of meconium I never knew.
In my case, I almost wish it were drugs that were in the middle of sanity (whole-some-ness/heartiness) and dakness. Alas this entity is more ominous still: pure fear. The opportunist who makes easy use of the wiring we know as autism.
Yes, I understand. Feared after posting that it might seem some attempt at making our situations the same. Only meant to be, an I commiserate and have experienced great pain, in the darkest hours, as a mother. Sometimes, there is nothing that can be said to relieve the gravity of a situation. Not easy to convey via a writing platform.
Just know your words touch me (in that periphery you write of) and that I am thinking of you.
I completely got your sympathy and felt restored by it! To be honest I have likened my son to a drug-addict these past six months with his OCD relationship from hell.
As with drugs it is not the drugs that really breaks us but the irrational changes in behaviour, or the stripping away to reveal an empoverished/immature soul.
Even deeper: it's about what they cannot remember we agreed upon at conception or before.... How little they trust us; which is not the same as to test us (to test themselves) and grow stronger for it. A large part definitely also has to do with their awareness of having to let go (yes, they not just us!) and how this daunts them (almost too subconsciously).
When it concerns a serious addiction or a pervasive mental disorder it is not the same as turning to new horzions and maybe getting a little dizzy in the turning or tottering off in the wrong direction for a little of the way. It is the refusal to face the fear ....
Autism is a great hindrance to clear headedness as directed by the heart; as are addictions (@blankcanvas86 writes on the subject too today). I'd say the autism of my son shares a lot of problems known to arise with A-Z class narcotics (I make little distinction between soft and hard; and make them all legally available for all I care; let's leave people free to be responsible for themselves, but also listen and advise eachother wisely, and especially lovingly, not to promote escapism).
In fact, I even have found weed to be a particularly sly drug. (Though it comes in many varieties of varying strengths/effects.) Something happens in my son's autistic brain (neuro-system in general?), I noticed already when he was super young, which is simalar to the effects of using cannabis (but then also a bad trip with paranoia). There are neurons in the body (everywhere) called cannabinoid receptors which when inhibited (as by the drug) confound information on your status quo (which means a loss of self entirely in the young autist....and from that starting point the problems amass (and you spend your whole life patch working artificially/compensating).
Anyway, it means I am always very interested and empathic when it comes to people who have loved ones involved in drugs. (As a teen I wanted to join the DEA; but that is maybe because Sonny Crockett had an alligator for a pet and a cool set of wheels.)
(Cripes the bleach one needs for their wash!)
I have been watching how some of us (women) are distinctly more the Mothers of Mankind than that they will be fulfilled on a personal mothering level. Therefore we are bound to witness losses.... there is always going to be some kind of "natural" selection (which now seems to becoming ever more artificially intelligent).
Know your conveyance sails over the oceans without losing much to gravity.
Period correct for the time I lived there, but the cops I knew did not drive Ferraris. Half of the Miami-Dade PD was in Jail and the other half on it's way there which made for interesting times.
Never thought of Motorcycle maintenance as a Zen like experience but it must have been; I'd still like to get back to restoring one from the ground up. (maybe an old Honda Cub)
I won't be posting as much as I used to. Things are not what they seem on this platform and I fully expect to get flagged as I support a few efforts that may expose a few things that will not be received well. I don't want to bring that here, even if all it means is that you have to "reveal comment" to see it.
My "following" list has been scrambled, I rarely see your posts in my feed and sometimes I just need to wait to get my vote back up above 0.02, but I am reading your posts :)
I have some friends with an autistic daughter, but they never, with me anyway, discussed what their long term plans were. I spent a lot of time there as we built a 31 ft sailboat in the basement over the course of a few years and it became obvious to me that she would never be able to live without some form of support and supervision. They did have some luck with their second daughter in that she's a real firecracker and loved dragging her older sibling along for all kinds of fun stuff, but I always wondered what would happen when she wants a family of her own. Since I'm not one to bud in, I figured I would find out when they did. Come to think of it, I should probably shoot them an email one of these days to see how they're doing.
@onnovocks, My following list has also annoyingly been scrambled. Do you know why?
I don't have any hard facts, but I'll venture a guess. Certain features were taken out to make it more cost effective to run Steemit, yes in the midst of all the Steemit, Inc. drama. What it looks like to me is that the feature in the code that arranged the listing in alphabetical order was taken out to save space, and now you see the listing in reverse chronological order, the way it was recorded on the block-chain, listing the most recent account we followed first.
Looks like the same happened with the follower list; the last one to follow us, is listed first. (as if you are looking from the present into the past)
Hope this makes sense, and again, that is what it looks like to me. Cheers!
Yes, that makes sense. Thanks. I do wish it back the old way though :/
Gathered your mood and approach to what's left of Steemit, the minute I set a foot back on here. (Hardly a sea-worthy 31ft sailboat that's been built here.) Know you well enough. Admire how you are still a warrior breaking a lance here and there for where it may still matter.
Clearly your picking up a word or two of mine every now and then (although I know you to be a thorough chap) seems to make a meaningful difference to me. Just like autism seems to pervade our times in often invisible and intangible ways, positive gestures and motions do too....
Thank you.
Yes, what they can't remember--that seems a definite theme with children, men, friends, really so many and though there are people here on Steemit, and I'm sure in different parts of the world who are advancing by leaps and bounds in this understanding of spirituality it all seems to be occurring alongside masses of people who are stripping themselves of and rejecting all notions of these kinds of contracts.
Your insights on autism are fascinating and highlight specifics of the condition I've not heard from other's. I have wondered about a few very close people in my life and wonder whether they would be diagnosed if younger?
Miami Vice! I was a teen mother dressing my blonde, curly-haired son in pinks and pale blues modeling this very style and many an old person called him a she :)
Glad to know my conveyance sails :)
Might write more, but finding it difficult to focus while my daughter blasts some kind of infuriating death-metal while she showers :/
Loved hearing the death-metal.
Came through the shower loud and clear.
I am not the only one trying to be driven insane!