Prisoners of the Storm

A white kitten

given to me
by an elderly
woman
who always
sat in her
garden;
she stank
of
rose-water
and
wisteria.

That night it
stormed and
the kitten
cried.

It got on Daddy’s
nerves, he said, so
he put the kitten
outside
on the porch
in the storm.

The next
morning
I found it
wet and
shivering
where it
had fallen
through a
hole in

the porch.

I wrapped it
in towels

and sat with it
by a heater

and held it
while it

shivered until
it died.

What can I say
to you Daddy,
now as dead
as my kitten?

I did not give
you the honor
of a Son’s
good-bye.

Somehow, I kept
that storm in my
mind

And locked you
into it


(c) Robert Goldstein 2014-2017 All rights reserved

 

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Know Thyself

Several patterns play themselves out in my life.

Each one is a link to some aspect of my childhood that either is either a scar
or is a source of salvation.

If insanity is repeating the same mistake with the hope of a different outcome, than I have been completely insane since childhood.

One of these insane patterns is that of seeking out and hooking up with narcissistic women.

There are other patterns based on the community in which I was raised: the racism, the antisemitism, the homophobia and the static class system as it existed for people at the very bottom.

These patterns of repetition became especially pronounced when I stopped working and entered therapy.

Psychotherapy means dredging up memories that I want buried under a mountain of distraction and denial.

I often go to therapy in a state of emotional distress, walking through panic attacks and other flight or fight reactions.

The literature I’ve read regarding the treatment of trauma and dissociation states Psychotherapy as essential for successfully resolving a complex trauma disorders.

Cognitive approaches teach people to manage distress but they won’t resolve Complex-Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

***

Based on a 1922 photograph of Freud in the Public Domain

The patients’ job during intensive psychotherapy is to ask why.

Why do I seek out women who are devoid of the capacity for love?

Why do I veer from an extreme identification with the middle class to an extreme identification with the poor?

Why do I force myself to fail economically just as I get closest to winning?

Accepting the option to ‘know thyself’ means living in a perpetual state of brutal self-questioning.

Why do I sometimes behave as if I hate myself?

I first grappled with the problem of internalized stigma during the early days of the AIDS epidemic when I wondered if the epidemic was God’s judgment.

None of the intellectual and political constructions that served me as gay activist in the 1970’s could defeat the internalized homophobia that AIDS unleashed.

I watched men die from grief, self-hatred and fear.

I was nearly one of them.

This was when I realized the true function of any ‘ism’ is to convince the target to self destruct.

This was why any novel written about gays before Stonewall usually ended with the suicide or the impoverished death of the main character.

AIDS was the greatest tragic ending, fraught with the dissonant myth of a loving, yet angry and vengeful God.


Internalized homophobia was the least of my problems.

AIDS was trauma on trauma.

I did not know that I had a dissociative disorder.

I did not know that I was living in the worst possible place at the worst possible time for someone with DID.

The political climate in San Francisco coupled with the fear brought on by the epidemic fueled a political backlash against the gay community.

Increased fag bashing was a trigger.

Friends who were healthy one week and dead the next were triggers.

Any spot on my arm sent me into panic, so much so that I became a frequent flyer at the local clinics, which eventually gave me a prescription for Xanax.

Xanax
                                 Xanax

I did not know that Xanax was addictive; I only knew that it made the fear go away.

The straight psychiatrists I saw  were completely removed from the Gay Community and the AIDS epidemic and didn’t understand why the panicked
patient whose friends were all dying was so distressed and unstable.

The pharmaceutical industry reported that Xanax had an anti-depressant effect.

By 1986 I was on a prescribed dose of eight milligrams a day.


Everything that happens during the course of Psychotherapy is a representation of the trauma, its affect your life, and the meaning of your symptoms.

For adult survivors of abuse a common theme in therapy is mistrust and the fear of forming an attachment.

DID allows a part of me to make friends and to form an attachment while protecting the parts of me that are fragile and afraid.

My task in treatment is to intentionally make all of myself vulnerable to another person; in my case, a woman therapist, since most of the damage was done by my Mother.

This process of building trust with a woman who wants what’s best for me and who acts in my interests is the path to becoming whole.


In the Hell of my childhood nothing about me was acceptable.

I was a show-off, too sensitive, too feminine, too much of everything that people in my ‘class’ had no right to be.

In the world of my childhood, God rewards the Godly with a good Christian family, white skin; and money.

A lowly birth meant your place in God’s plan was bondage.

The idea that all Americans have a right to a stake in the wealth of our nation was deemed an absurd fiction, a delusion foisted on good people by damned Yankees.


 

John C. Calhoun Homes
                                                      John C. Calhoun Homes

 

***

Children instinctively want to please their parents; it’s an evolutionary adaptation that enhances survival.

The double bind for an abused child is that the only behavior that pleases the parent is an abdication of the self.

As I enter my fourth year of intensive psychotherapy the questions I must answer become more confounding and painful.

But at least I know what they are have the strength I need to ask them.

(c) Rob Goldstein 2015-2017
The Photo of Xanax found on Google Images

First posted November 1, 2015-updated November 8, 2017 – After 7 years
of psychotherapy and I’m pleased to say I’m getting better.

 

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What I did on my Summer Vacation

  1. I gave myself permission to post only when I wanted to.
  2. I spent time with my partner, loving our love for each
    other.
  3. I studied the Constitution and early 20th Century History.
  4. I gave myself a break from the emotionally laden material I
    wrote in the 1980’s and 90’s.
  5. I accepted that my writing is only for me and that when I die my
    work will die with me. Greatness is not required; an idea beautifully
    affirmed on Sue Vincent’s fine blog.
  6. I accepted the challenge of being present for my niece to the best of
    my ability.  I now understand in some small way, the worries of
    parenting adult children.
  7. I bought a powerful new laptop and so far, I’ve learned four new image-processing programs.
  8. I redesigned Art by Rob Goldstein.
  9. I re-thought and rewrote the ‘about me’ section of Art by Rob Goldstein
  10. I learned the terrible and exceedingly dull mysteries of SEO.
  11. I restructured and simplified the Menu options at the top of the page.
  12. I wrote a posting schedule:I will post on Monday’s, Wednesdays, and Saturdays and will use
    the rest of he week to make content and catch up with the blogs
    I follow.The schedule remains subject to whim.
  13. I realized how lucky I am to be alive and creative.
  14. My partner and I celebrated our Silver Anniversary last week.
    Photograph of two men in San Francisco City hall
    25 Years together, October 2017

    25 years and I couldn’t love him more.

Rob Goldstein 2017

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