Abandonment: the
action or fact of abandoning or being abandoned
Abandonment fears typically stem from childhood loss, such as the
loss of a parent through death or divorce, but they can also result from
inadequate physical or emotional care. These early-childhood experiences can
lead to a fear of being abandoned by the significant people in one's adult
life.
An unexpected decision
Brings powerful thoughts
And emotions
Near the surface of my sleeves
Do I speak
Of the fears and anxieties
Nimbly crawling
Meticulously gnawing
Endlessly
Nervously
Throughout my skull
Family is a peculiar unit. Does
this consist of only those whom are of your genetics? (i.e. blood relations-
Father, Mother, and siblings). Or does this term extend to those who care for
you most? Many of us stand at odds with those we are born to, and as a result
we adopt the term, or are defined as “Black Sheep” by others. These abnormal,
abstract, outcast, outliers are the focus of my attention as I struggle with my
volatile emotions.
I was born to a family who lived in
Magna, Utah. Their chosen religion, and the religion of their parents is the
Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (e.g. “Mormons”). For those of you
who are not from this state, or are not familiar with the religion, it is a
peculiar one with around 13 million members worldwide; and no they do not have
multiple wives- the LDS Church outlawed the practice in 1890. This religion
preaches moderation in all things, and abstinence of many things.
The religion teaches their congregation
to refrain from the use of drugs, alcohol (which is a drug, and to this day I
always wonder why I have to list both), sex before marriage, no hot drinks
(tea, coffee, and similar drinks), vulgar/profane language, obedience of the
ten commandments, among many other things. As you can already tell the many
restrictions and prohibitions imposed upon the followers of this faith can be
difficult for a curious mind to follow; I have an extraordinarily curious mind.
After many years of exposure to
people whose lifestyles and ideas differed greatly from those of my parents, I
was overwhelmed by a desire to experience life, without the shackles of
religion. So I ventured into the world and tasted the fruits of the various
trees growing on this earth. This caused a rift to form between my parents and
I- one that has never fully closed.
When I was about fourteen years old an
emotional interaction between my father and I caused him to order me out of his
house. I gladly accepted and packed a bag. When I was seventeen this happened again. After staying with a friend for
about a week one of my sisters caught wind of what had happened, and she
invited me to stay with her. Within a short time (I cannot recall the exact
time frame) my parents (most likely due to the prodding of my mother) invited
me back home.
I attempted to be LDS again when I
was sixteen. This lasted a brief six months, but the appeal of knowledge and
experience persuaded me once again to leave their religion- this time the
decision was final. We had many arguments, and even some that led to physical
altercations. Now, do not judge my parents for a second- this was not child
abuse. They are excellent people who did not understand how to handle a son
whose language was articulate and disrespectful- most, if not all of the
physical altercations were caused, and started, by my volatile emotions, and my
inability to control my emotions; due to my immaturity, and something I did not
become aware of until later in life.
Emotions are something I have always struggled with; partly due to
the teachings of my father, and partly due to my own nature. My pops would
always tell me growing up, “let it go”. Instead of discussing my internal fears
and anxieties I would try to “let it go”; in reality this would mean the
emotions would be buried until something would cause them to rise to the
surface, and I would unleash a tirade on someone who usually did not deserve
such treatment.
The further I moved away from their
beliefs; the more I disbelieved in the concept of “God”; the more strained and distant our
relationship became. People are always attracted to those with similar
interests, so it is no surprise that this occurred. Most of what I do is prohibited
by their religion, or of no interest to them. However, I cannot see why anyone
would support what I do when my own family does not.
I write music and stories. Unless I
force them to sit down to listen to a song, they have no desire to listen to
the music I create. The book I wrote, that my pops drew the cover art for, has
not been read by them or any of my siblings. No matter how many times I ask for
their feedback, I get none.
What bothers me most is this idea:
that no one else will care what I do because my family is not supportive; and
in some weird way I think that my creations lack the connectivity of the love
that stems from the support a family gives to their members.
I feel disconnected from the world
because I feel disconnected from the family I was born to.
I was struggling with the meaning of life, with a desire to live, so I went to therapy. The sessions I attended focused an insightful lens onto my internal universe. My emotional outbursts throughout
my childhood, adolescence, and adult life flooded my mind. It all made sense now. The struggles I have with
anger; the difficulties I have with communicating my thoughts and emotions; the contentious relationship with my parents; a debilitating, crippling apathy; an almost relentless, indomitable desire to rebel against any authority figure; all derived from the disassociation from my authentic self.
The
abandonment I had felt, the loneliness I had suffered, dissipated to an extent when I
learned what the root cause of my instability, and lack of self-control was. Now I could manage it. She taught me how to manage my condition, so
that it would not continue to be a negative factor in my life- something I will be forever for. Recovery is not an easy task though, and there are many challenges to learn from.
I am a
very independent person, and I do not want people to think for a moment I
require help. Psychological conditions are often received negatively, as though they will impede on your ability to live a successful life. My condition affects my understanding
of social queues (I miss a lot), my eye contact, and my emotional intelligence and
maturity; but in no way does this prevent me from being able to assimilate well enough to remain unnoticed.
I do not want my parents to feel guilt from the thought, “I did not do enough for my son.” They did all they could with what they had, and with what they knew. A few weeks ago my pops called me. His voice was nervous and shaky. Like any time he wants to discuss a specific topic, he small-talked his way around why he actually called me. After listening to idle banter for a few minutes I asked him, “Why did you call?”
I do not want my parents to feel guilt from the thought, “I did not do enough for my son.” They did all they could with what they had, and with what they knew. A few weeks ago my pops called me. His voice was nervous and shaky. Like any time he wants to discuss a specific topic, he small-talked his way around why he actually called me. After listening to idle banter for a few minutes I asked him, “Why did you call?”
“Your mother and I were thinking
about selling the house and moving to Maryland with your sister.”
I was silent.
He began to list his reasons. They
were damn good. He will be sixty this year, and he earns less than he has his
entire life. The back-breaking labor he did throughout his 30 years of
construction have left him an aching shadow of his former self. Moving to
Maryland would give him the opportunity to retire (if he stayed here he would
work for Salt Lake County until about death, or 80 years old; whichever came
first). More importantly, moving would place him in the same house as that which brings
him the most joy, his grandchildren.
Once he was done listing his
reasons he asked me, “What do you think?” The question fills my eyes with
tears, and chokes the air from my throat. Rarely has he asked me such a
question. Throughout my entire life he always wanted to tell me “the way it is;
the way to become a man.”
My response surprised me. I told
him that too many people in this country live to work, and that is all that he
does. He helped my mother raise five incredible children, and he worked his ass
off (2-4 hour side jobs [mostly concrete] were a norm after his daily 9 hour
grind) to provide the best life he could for his children. He told me he did
not want to leave my sister and I hangin’; and I told him it would be selfish
to tell him to stay.
Once again I followed the direction
of my father, and attempted to ‘let it go’. However, my emotions are too strong
to ignore. The abandonment issues of my youth have returned with an
unbelievable force. I do not want to express this to my father because I do not
want him to change his mind. What he is doing is the best decision for him,
regardless of the consequences it imposes upon me. I am utterly confounded by
the conflict I now endure.
Should I tell him? Should I not
tell him? The answer seems simple and straightforward, yet I stay silent due to
the idea that him not knowing is the best for him. But I must ask, what is the
best for me? And to this question I have no answer.
His house will be sold within a few
weeks, and he will be living in Maryland with my sister. I will have one sister
left nearby, who is looking for employment outside of Utah, so that she can
gain new experiences, and expand her knowledge of the world. Although I have
supportive and loving friends, I cannot help feeling a powerful sense of loss,
disappointment, and most of all abandonment.
To those of you who you suffer from
the same I wish you solace in your darkest times. Know that you do not suffer
alone. There are many like us, and these challenges will only strengthen our
characters. When we put the needs of others before our own, our selflessness
creates a positive change in the attitude of those people. We are the arbiters
of progress.
All
My Love
Laron
R. Lemon
