Blog 73 Important Companions (Gary)

            Just back from a couples session for my wife and me.  Yes, I believe in therapy enough to do it for myself.  And today I got from my wife how important I am to her.  I needed our therapist, Beth, to say that to me, translating what my wife was saying, in order for me to get it. 

            I never felt important as a child, so even when I felt I was doing something important Sue would put me in my place by saying, "It’s not about you."  I understand now that was about my ego, not about my "self."  Tears run as I lay on the bed writing this.  She wants to make me happy because I am important to her, very important.  So at this stage of my life I have to decide what will do it.  I think I have been waiting for that someday when I, “Big *I*,” deserve to do what I want.

            On The Hill today the horizon to the west gives us a view of the sky above Santa Cruz and Monterey.  It is clear, a sighting that is usually clouded from here.  The perspective is grand, to know the beaches are warm and sunny as well, which is not always the case.

            Stacy waits for us just above The Respite.  We invited him to join us for the hike today.  He is leaning against the fence that keeps people from short-cutting and eroding the trail.  He started out early with the plan of meeting us up here.  He looks spent and his shirt is soaked.  It is not his day to do a timed climb to the tree.  Here, his back to a fence post, he has processed his grief.  Not that it is done, but he makes a sort of impassioned plea for support.  I retell him what I know of his story as a way of letting him know I empathize.  I also tell him that I support him doing grief work.  He says, “The way you can support me is to call me to hike with you.”  Basically he doesn't want to do life alone.  He had a lot of aloneness in his life, as Mark and I have known in our lives.  That must be our bond, or certainly part of it. 

            I always say, "Doing it alone sucks."  I ended up having that conversation with my good friend’s husband this same day.  He had relapsed into alcohol and lied about it to his wife.  He was dealing with his wife's anger over his dishonesty, calling him a liar.  He said, “I lied, but I am not a liar.”  This is another time when a man feels alone and needs the support of other men.  That is why the fellowship of Alcoholics Anonymous can make such a difference.  Many in recovery try to do it alone; most tread water for a while and then relapse, or become so intense about their sobriety that no one wants to be around them.  I told him my theory and suggested a men's group.  This time he is ready.

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