I grew up with an addict for a parent. It is a simple statement, with a dense sort of implication. At a glance, if you haven’t experienced it, you may have pre-conceptions about what that is like. If you haven’t lived with an addict, or known one; it can be even tougher to conceptualize. You may have in your mind, embarrassing family dinners or social events that get a bit out of hand at the end of the evening. You may even consider, “Oh, they passed out on the couch this weekend.” Yet, you probably don’t imagine being a child hiding beer cans in front of your dads car, so that when he drives off; he ruins some of his alcohol. You don’t think of the excessive normalization of extreme emotions, and addictive tendencies. Moments spent alone, because they are drunk. Moments spent in fear; for the same reason.
I mention this to set the scene for modern issues I have encountered. While I say “modern” I really mean “after my dad died” which can be effectively considered the main ‘eras’ of my life. BDD (before dad died) and ADD (after dad died). Surviving BDD meant, in large part, combating the frantic emotions of an addict male while he is going through a separation. I have recollections of my father crying through towels, sitting in the RV parked out back. I can recall him sweating profusely on cold nights, drinking beer in the living room, screaming at the tv. I can recall the slightest moment, going wrong, and having it turn on me. This was normal growing up. It was living with an addict.
Recovering from that process, after many therapists, books and lessons; is a process. An element of that process is learning that you cannot control the reactions of others. It is a simple concept, and a painful one to put into practice. When you live with an addict, their emotions, their pain; these components are weaponized. If my mom did something wrong, him getting drunk (or worse) was her fault. If he was feeling depressed, or angry; that was because you failed him. There isn’t much personal responsibility in an addict with an active addiction, and when it comes time for someone to be responsible it will be you; especially if it serves their narrative. When you grow up having an adult ‘protector’ be someone you need to defend yourself from; intentional disassociation from the reactions of others becomes a required survival strategy. So let me tell you quite honestly, after having practiced this survival strategy for many years; I struggle with caring how anyone reacts.
Naturally, that is an issue in and of itself. You see, when you take a job in a white collar world. It is not a meritocracy. Maybe if you’re lucky. However, my ability to do the job is more or less my foot in the door. The ability to maintain a position, or move up (if you’re so interested) weighs heavily on your ability to “play the game”. I, unfortunately, grew up learning how to avoid playing the game, because if I played the game, someone would get mad at me and kick my ass. It is a very difficult instinct to out-grow. I am, of course, learning, like anyone. Yet I can’t help but feel conflicted about the process.
I, never, aim to hurt anyone. I hate doing so. I don’t like being ‘disruptive’ or even ‘brutal’ in my honesty. I am, however, very comfortable with objective critique, and yes, hyper honest self critique. I am aware of my short-comings, and will often leap at the opportunity to confirm them if they arise. I am under no illusions that I am some paragon of perfection, and welcome my heights as well as my lows; since awareness is the core of effective action. I may have a short-coming, but until I accept it; it will remain as such. This combination of willful analysis and a lack of ability to allow the reactions of others to control my dialogue means I have taken a lot of time to learn ‘corporate language‘.
As an adult. It seems I’m at a cross-roads. I can’t stop being cast as a villain and it largely seems attributed to my perseverance to honesty. You see, part of the therapy I went through was focused on being honest with myself and others. I could not lie because I had grown up in an environment where lying had to be accepted. If my dad said he didn’t have a problem, and that he was okay, even if the evidence was clearly stacked in the other direction; disagreeing meant punishment. So, I wouldn’t point it out; or the instinct to do so would kick in and it wouldn’t turn out very well for me. Yet after unpacking these concerns over years, and realizing it was his reaction which was unfair; I cannot go back. I am unable to speak to anything other then the reality of a circumstance. Whether it be delightful or not. Ultimately, because I can’t go back to being the kid scared of being honest.
Yet, I recognize not everyone has had this experience. The defense of honesty, the ingrained requirement to stay grounded in objective, provable concepts. May not hold true as a need for someone who hasn’t been manipulated before. When you grow up in an emotional, or physically abusive environment. Truth is always distorted. In your recovery, you must spend a massive amount of time figuring out what is real, what felt real but wasn’t and what was blatantly an attempt to manipulate you. Often, the manipulation of an abusive parent is to cast their mistakes as successes; or normal occurrences. So when you start working towards recognizing what is normal, what is true is an essential lifeline. You cling to demonstrable anchors to reality. To provable concepts.
This leaves me in a position where, despite my honest intentions, I may find myself sending out anchors when I feel adrift. I connect with truths. I seek out the ocean floor. I analyze every detail and make heads or tails of the actuality in front of me. I am awful at ‘playing the game‘ because I can remember when someone’s whole day, or their sobriety was endangered by the outcome of doing so. I remember my own safety being brought into question, if I didn’t find the thread of nonsense being spun that evening and hold on dearly. This is a difficult concept to explain to others as well. I wish it was easier to just say “I’m so sorry, I don’t understand the social dynamics at play here. I am just trying to achieve the best result, by working within the observable parameters before me.” When I try, I get considered a nuisance and often I can’t understand what has happened. In my search for truths, I find annoyance and frustration. There are calls of dissention. Which has reproduced time and time again. It seems like, asking someone why they’re doing something, or why something is the way it is; is the same as calling for its destruction. As someone who just wants to understand what is going on I find this somewhat frustrating.
I don’t know how everything works, and again, growing up with an addict who eventually killed himself. I struggle with recognizing what normal even looks like. I have lived in dire extremes. As an example, my dad tried to kill himself three times. Eventually, the third time was the charm. But there were moments before, where he would go out to a field, put a pipe from his exhaust into his car, call my mom, and force her to fill him up with bullshit all so he wouldn’t kill himself. I grew up with a parent who used his own life as a bargaining chip, and ultimately, like a child, took his ball home instead of learning to play with others. This is, as an extreme example, why I can’t take the responsibility for the reactions of others. It is also why I am incredibly uncomfortable with being forced to do so. I don’t understand hierarchical systems where, for some reason, the people who need the most protection and dampening of analysis are the people making more money then you, with more power. In my mind, not only should people in such positions be there because of how they embrace honesty, they should be immune to considerations which arise as a result of it. You would figure, with money and experience and power; comes an ability to not be bothered. Yet, often, it is those who are more vulnerable which must accept any and all critiques made against them; sometimes even be forced to embrace them. While the same doesn’t work in reverse. You can’t point out a short-coming, you must play the game, and even if your intentions are to improve things for everyone, well, that’s just too bad.
Part of the struggle, in large part, is the lack of understanding offered to my perspective. Specifically this is something known as ‘fundamental attribution error’ or correspondence bias. Ultimately this is a concept wherein people will look at your actions and presume they are made because of who you are instead of as a reaction to circumstance and context. An easy example would be, someone is offered a job, they don’t agree with the pay-scale and reject the job. But someone viewing that circumstances via a correspondence bias may just think “this person doesn’t want to work because they are lazy” even if, the actual reason, is they wouldn’t be able to meet their financial needs if they accepted the salary offered. This resonates with me, because I believe this perspective is cast against me. Someone may see a question I have and believe “he is asking this because he is rebellious, or disruptive” instead of “he is asking this because he doesn’t understand, doesn’t have the background on the situation, or just wants to contribute to making it better but needs more pieces of the puzzle first”.
Who knows what will come of this journey for me. Maybe I will divine a perfect method to speaking my truth, without offending anyone. Maybe I’ll continue to find concerns where I intend to bring resolutions and I’ll end up working in a green house some day. It is a shame, in part, because I really only have good intentions. I view things holistically, and aim to evaluate them similarly. If I see something isn’t working as well as it could, and I’m asked about it. I will plainly indicate the concern. I would expect anyone else to do the same. There are many circumstances in my life where I have witnessed the acceptance of inefficiency due to it preserving emotional investment. Now, I don’t think we should just shit on every parade because it could be a be run a bit better. I don’t think ceaseless critique is effective for development. Nor, however, do I believe it can be shirked.
I think the best things I have made, are things which can stand up to criticism. If I have a perspective, a piece of work or a creation. I critique the hell out of it. I think of every downside, every upside, every argument which could be levied against it and every counter point. Value to me is derived from withstanding criticism and remaining worthwhile. As such, I guess, I’ll leave this blog post on a lovely comic panel which speaks to my heart.
Josh Perry: Canadian Author 