CHAPTER EIGHTY-SIX
2004- Silos & Compartments
My time at the rehab was winding down and I could count my remaining sessions with Gwen on one hand.
I knew these were gonna be where all the heavy emotional work would be done.
Gwen and I had spent the past months working up to the big moment- unpacking all of my drama, laying it out, doing an inventory and seeing how best to clean it all up. These are my words, not hers.
We started out the session with level setting- Gwen asked me to list out the themes and conflicts in my life that I felt caused me stress.
Feeling like I have no control of my destiny
Feeling like people withhold information from me
Feeling like I’m disposable
Feeling like my life is siloed into separate areas that never intersect
“That’s a very astute list,” Gwen told me. “It sums most of the themes that keep recurring throughout our sessions.”
I was relieved when she said that- it let me know that even if I hadn’t been able to solve my problems, at least I was able to identify them.
“Let’s unpack each one slowly,” Gwen suggested. “Which theme is hitting you hardest right now?”
“Well, they all seem pretty fuckin’ intertwined,” I replied.
“Another astute observation. Why don’t we start with the silos issue?” she suggested. “From that entry point, we can branch out to work through other items on your list.”
And we hit the ground running from there.
I know therapy speak is a total snooze, so I’m going to list out the major points Gwen and I figured out together. And I know that even laying it out this way is kind of long. But it’s the core of who I am and how I got this way.
I've spent my entire life thinking that if I bottled everything up, I’d get what I need. As the baby of the bunch with a huge age gap between my siblings and myself, I received parents who didn’t have the energy or focus to raise one more child, so I learned to minimize my needs, at least outwardly.
I’ve always had creative interests and a desire for knowledge, but I also had parents who didn’t nurture my intellectual growth and who hid crucial information from me. If it took me nearly 30 years to discover that they were saving money for me to further my education, how was I supposed to use the knowledge that I had the resources to better myself if they never let me know the money was there?
My romantic relationships have always been centered around the illusion of control, and it’s left me emotionally stunted. I’ve always thought that I was the one in control, because I didn't ask the guy I was with for anything, or that I was keeping myself under control because I didn't pry and refused to ask questions. And because of this I was never able to see the full picture. Instead of asking Mundo, “Did you ever go to college?” I just assumed he was a dumb drug dealer and had to learn second hand and years later that he had a B.A. in International Relations. And I thought if I “behaved” myself around Cabrón, he’d see my value and decide I was someone worth protecting. And instead, I got caught with his guns and went to prison for four years.
Once I decided to go out on my own, the best I thought I could do was live a life that was apart from the polite society I’d been expected to cling to. And in doing so, I had to compartmentalize the fuck out of my existence. My drug crew didn’t know about my dominatrix life. My dominatrix life had nothing to do with my felonious activities. And my parents had no clue about any of it. And had they told me about the college fund, maybe- just maybe- it would’ve been the one thing that would’ve nudged me into getting my shit together and back into society, just like they wanted me.
But it took Jake Fuckin’ Shinman to blow the whole thing up and get me to where I was meant to be.
