Kaleidoscope (Part 2)

I want to precursor starting this off by saying that there is a certain amount of discomfort in these “Kaleidoscope” posts.   The discomfort goes beyond what one would think considering exposing wounds and vulnerability and falls within the realm of casting blame and throwing stones.    I don’t like it.

I know this “Kaleidoscope” series that I have begun are things you need to hear from me, but I can’t cast all the blame on your shoulders.  Your grief and depression was a separate entity that I view as something apart from you, even if my emotions can’t fully separate it from you.  Aside from that, I feel that the burden of guilt should rest not just with you, but with me as well, and how I handled things.

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A Lack of Support

There were times I felt that I was slipping and sliding down a rocky slope, my fingers curled and nails digging in, scraping over the rocks.   You weren’t there, too wrapped up in your own thoughts and emotions, too distracted by your own grievances to notice I was struggling.

This, in itself, wouldn’t have been a problem if I hadn’t come, over time, to depend on you noticing.  I had come to depend upon your observations, your obsessive watchfulness and attention to detail.  I had come to depend on how well  you knew me, and upon your quick step and strong reach that would come down over the edge of the cliff and grab hold before I could slide too far down the rocky face.

Without you there to do this, I had to find another way and I fell back upon the old tried and true habits of closing myself off whenever I struggled so that no one would be able to see I was struggling.

Closing myself off after having discovered the freedom your protection granted me created an ache of loss, and the harsh burn of resentment to fester inside.

Kaleidoscope (Part 1)

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I’m going to ask you now, to yet again…tell me about the anger. Not just acknowledging it, but explaining it. Listing the reasons and expanding on them…digging into them. I need to know the depth of this anger, I need to know why it’s still there, why I can’t reach it to make it better. – Gideon 26Aug2017

My anger and pain are blended like a kaleidoscope, filled with a myriad of colors and shapes that run into each other like spilled paint.  Each needle-like jab of pain endured created a singeing sear of anger.  In some cases, the anger never burned itself out.  In other cases, the pain is still there, still feeding the burn.  It makes me wonder if it’s the anger that’s the issue… or the pain.  Maybe its both.

Regardless, the colors in my kaleidoscope include the following:

  • Abandonment
  • Taking Up the Reigns
  • Lack of Support
  • Baby the Babysitter
  • Drown and Drop Neglect
  • Reciprocation Issues
  • The Almighty Cling

Everything feels like too big of a project right now.   Starting a list, just on its own, felt like a monumental struggle.  So, I am going to expand on each of these a little at a time, chipping away at each and adding more if additional points come up along the way.

How to Get Wood Stain Off Hands and Skin

Wood Stain

I recently needed to know how to get wood stain off hands and skin, and had a really hard time finding an answer that didn’t include harsh chemicals. While I was visiting my mom the last time we went that way, I stopped by Z’s mom’s house for a visit, and she had made me a little tool rack that I can use for my jewelry tools.  It was awesome, but it was raw wood, which marks up easily and quickly begins to look dirty.    So, when I got home, I decided to stain it.

Me, being the brilliantly distracted man that I sometimes am, managed to forget to wear gloves when I stained the thing.  I also didn’t have a paint brush, so I used a rag to do the deed.   This meant I got stain all over my hands, under my nails, etc.

Normally, I would have gone straight for the turpentine… except, I didn’t have any.

Things that don’t work to get wood stain off hands include dish soap, lava soap, scrub brush, rubbing alcohol, oven cleaner…. yes, I tried it, it doesn’t work.   So, with gummy fingers sticking to the keys, I did a search on the internet.  And searched.  And searched.  And searched.

Nobody knows how to get this crap off hands, yeah?  Nobody.    And then I found a little blurb on a pdf that I’m pretty sure was an excerpt from some book.  It suggested vegetable oil.

I was doubtful, to say the least, but guess what?  It worked!

A tablespoon of vegetable oil and a lot of massaging it into my hands.  Wash with soap and water.  Repeat a second time if you have more stain to remove or want to use a scrub brush around nail beds and under your nails.   When you’re done, wash your hands a second time to remove any excess vegetable oil and voila! TRIUMPH! Clean hands.

I Do Feel Anger

Angry Flames
Although a lot of my emotions are buffered right now, (tucked beneath a layer of quieting cotton, out of view and muffled), the anger is there.  I can’t feel it’s full strength, and yet there’s no denying its presence.

It eats away like a low grade acid within my gut, a mere whisper of an uncomfortable burning, always present and yet easy to ignore.  I know you don’t want me to ignore it, but at the same time, I don’t know how to dig it out and let it burn freely.  I acknowledge that it’s there. Im trying to get in touch with it.  I know you need it to resolve the hurt and bridge the gap.

I’m trying.