but then, “work” is a strong word.

I’m thinking we need a footnote: Stop re-reading this sign and pay attention to your task at hand!

I also have to resist editing. Shouldn’t “Lift seat when …” be “Lift seat before …”?

This is the new chapter we began back then. He was a little upset but we were proud parents even then.

after a 24 hour delay, Eric took the oath and is now on his way to the navy basic training facility at great lakes.

…may go on to abuse others and/or abuse self.

Number thirteen is the ugliest ghost of them all. In my personal life, the focus of my scorn, anger, and contempt has always been me. I treated myself in a manner I would not wish upon the most despicable among us. I simply did not love who I am.

Here are the questions I struggled with this year:

• If a child witnesses a crime and does not tell, what does that make him? Guilty or Scared?
• If an adult chooses to trust someone, who is guilty of past criminal behavior, what does that make him? Forgiving or Naive?
• But what if an adult chooses to trust someone, who is guilty of past criminal behavior, with his children… What would that make him then? Clueless? Enabler? Accessory?

My ghosts would have me believe I am a guilty, naive, and clueless man who enabled criminal behavior.

I know (in my cranium) the answer to each question is actually one word, traumatized. It took me a while (okay, decades) to realize this is where I camped out. Moved in. Lived. Oddly enough, traumatized was my comfort zone. My normal.

Moving away from traumatized meant moving out towards all those painful answers — not to camp there in the pain — but to get past all the pain to something unseen. Unseen by me at least.

So I am venturing, ever so painstakingly, towards new territory, my new normal. And although I do not much care for it, it is the truth and, as my friend likes to point out, the truth will set you free.

may develop chronic physical illnesses

Oddly enough, this ghost is at best a minor part in my life. My digestive issues and my chronic sinus headaches may be exacerbated by the S in my PTSD. How much, I do not know.

I know of other abused children who have grown up to struggle with their physical health for decades. It is so heartbreaking to witness. I suppose that is how others might feel watching me struggle with my other ghosts. Sorry for that.

If I am missing something here, please let me know.

I can take this opportunity to reveal the ghost I deleted. On the original list there are 14 Characteristics. The one I did not included is Loss of relationship with God. Turning on him, refusing him, denying him. Been there. Done that. But then, who hasn’t. Or, more to the point, who isn’t?

over-responsible ??

Yesterday’s ghost, guilt, ended with, “Its too much for me.”  Veiled in those final two words is the twisted thinking of the ghost of over-responsibility. We’ve all heard of being irresponsible, now for peak at the flip-side.

If only I had be braver, stronger, faster, smarter, … I could have prevented, averted, stopped, fought against, fixed … all of this … every attack, all the pain, every tear … of every one.

If only I had hidden better, there would be no pain.

If only I could simply be good, he would not need to punish me.
And he would not be disappointed.
And mommy would not be so upset.

If only I were not such a fraidy-cat, weakling, pennywaste, push-over … I could have protected everyone, stood up to them, turned them in, spoken out.

Such are the twisted thoughts and lies of this ghost. Believing one is  personally responsible for another person’s choices. Illogical, yes. Vulcan, no. I think children in an abusive home adopt this battered-wife “I pushed him to it” syndrome.

Our broken society promotes this ghost in not so subtle ways. A 13 year old girl is called a whore while Roman Polanski is hailed as a film making genius. I remember after another 13 year old girl was assaulted at a church in my past, the mother told me the pastor in counseling her (the mother) said, “We both know the boy is not the only one at fault here.”

This ghost invades the minds and hearts of everyone… and he needs to go, in Jesus’ name.

—————-
Related Posts:

• Ghost #1 of 13: Low Self-Worth
• Ghost #2: Boundaries
• Ghost #3: Numb
• Ghost #4: Fear
• Ghost #5: Intimacy
• Ghost #6: Avoidance
• Ghost #7: Under-Reactive
• Ghost #8: X-treme Thinking
• Ghost #9: Self-Passivity
• Ghost #10: Guilt

…self blame and/or excessive guilt…

Do I have to write about this Ghost?

I shouldered the blame for just over four decades. My thoughts were I was guilty, am gulty, always will be guilty. Somehow that was okay with me… until last year… when the weight of the self blame and excessive guilt crushed me.

I felt guilty for failing. For hiding. For fighting. For conceding. For objecting. For not speaking out. For speaking out. For quitting. For persisting.

Perhaps carrying the guilt of my boyhood mistakes is bearable but the mistakes of an adult are unbearable. Perhaps the burden of failing to protect a sister, a brother, a cousin, and a mother is bearable but failing to protect your children is too much. Whatever changed inside, I am thankful. Thankful for being crushed.

Over the course of this past year, my therapist would ask me, “Why can’t you carry this?” [all the blame and all the guilt] After about ten times in as many sessions she asked me to stand up and hold out my hands. She took a book from the shelf and said, “This is not protecting your sister.” Then another book and another failure. After each book, she asked again. “Why can’t you carry all this, Ric?”

After about a dozen books, tears . “Its too much,” I admitted.

Its funny how we can know the gospel but not believe it for ourselves.

A look of finally washed over my therapist’s face. So I completed that statement in my mind without voicing it, “for me” … which is a good lead-in to the next ghost.

…no action regarding self – passivity towards self.

Passivity towards myself is fueled by a perverse need to punish myself. This ghost has me under the impression I deserve whatever pain may come my way. Protecting myself would feel like a plea for mercy and a plea of innocence – two things of which I am unaccustomed.

I remember telling my therapist, “I don’t mind.” That is, I don’t mind being sad, being a wreck. But alright, if it will help others around me, fine, I will talk to my doctor about antidepressants.

I think this ghost may be contributing to my career success. When a client is upset I will readily fall on my sword. My boss recently commented about an email I sent, “Yeah, I saw your mia culpa last night.”

Another boss called me at home one night to apologize. I said, “no big deal.” You know, publicly insulting me, pffft. Its okay.

One time a man in retirement home became confused and raised his cane to strike me. The staff came running towards us screaming, “Run! Run! He’s going to hit you! Run!” The teens in our youth group ran as soon as the cane and voice were raised. I stood there looking this man in the eyes. He did not hit me but I am pretty sure I would have let him. Perhaps he saw in me the same familiar face I saw in him.

Back on the grade school playground, I remember a classmate punching me until I fell down. I did not run. I did not call out for help. I did not raise a hand to stop him. Fortunately, after I fell, he was satisfied and walked away.

I am only recently learning the difference between being self-absorbed and loving my self. Neglecting myself and ignoring my needs is holding me back from who I am supposed to be. This ghost needs to go with the rest… in Jesus name.

…often thinks in extremes.

This is All-or-Nothing. Black-and-White. This Ghost of Xtreme Thinking ignores the fact that most things in life are shades of grey rather than absolutes. This ghost deftly twists Christian theology away from we-are-all-sinners to we-are-all-failures to I-am-a-failure.

I set rigid, high standards and when I did not live up to them, I became convinced I was a failure. On the positive side, I was fiercely driven and I would usually excel at whatever I attempted. On the not-so-positive side, I was fiercely driven and I would not attempt some things for fear of failure… because failure meant I, personally, was a failure.

All is fine (ie, manageable) until I  get into real relationships… like husband and father, for instance. When faced with mistakes as a husband and father, this ghost would have me believing that I am the mistake, I am the failure. I could not protect them, so I was the failure. Completely.

I think I understand this ghost’s origins. As a 5 to 10 year old boy, I  rebelled against my parents for the divorce, the neglect, and the abuse. I was punished, even bruised, for my rebellion. Of course, at the time I did not know what I was doing but then, neither did my parents. In  my child mind I was the problem. I was the failure.

I tried. I sat up straight at the table. I said “yes please” and “no thank you.” I ate my vegetables.  I cleaned my room. I brought home a good report card. But I continued rebelling (a.k.a., bed-wetting). It was my fault. I was the failure. This dynamic defined my childhood years from 5 – 10. During these years, this ghost moved into my mind and I am only now exorcising him, in Jesus’ name.

…exhibits under-reactivity in a personal crisis.

I see this ghost as strongly related to the ghost of Numb and Avoidance. Actually, I see under-reactivity as a symptom of the other two. I hope this ghost is not too offended with my assessment

When first hit with crisis information, I can immediately shut down all reaction, gather all the information, and dispassionately assess the situation. Over time, I come back and experience a reaction comparable to the crisis but this is often experienced privately.

I think most people, upon hearing crushing news, are immediately and visibly crushed. I find I am able to bind up this reaction and experience it later. Almost scheduling the reaction at a time of my choosing. Sometimes later in the day. Sometimes later in the week. And sometimes later in my life.

People unfamiliar with this derivative ghost, witness my cool reaction (or non-reaction) and wonder if I simply do not care.

I would have made a good Vulcan. But then there’s the poetic side o’ me that would not have fit well in the Vulcan camp either. I can imagine conversations with my Vulcan teacher…

Vulcan Teacher: Love? Love is not logical.

Me (a.k.a., VT Teacher): Exactly! Thank you!

VT: {raises left eyebrow} Facinating.

Me: I love it when you do that!

{repeat, ad nauseum}