YOU ARE NOT ALONE - A companion online community discussion board for The Mental Illness Happy Hour podcast with Paul Gilmartin

"If that's the worst thing that ever happens to you, you'll have a great life"...

I heard this line many times when growing up.

I am 36 and by outward appearances normal (ha!).

My father is a young 70, and by outward appearances a great person. And that is most very accurate.

He is kind, friendly, thoughtful, patient, and likeable. Most people who meet him like him, and accurately so.

He did a fine job raising me, and I give him credit.

But.

Like the quote above, he oftentimes favors a polite friendly facade, rather than show emotion or awknowledge hurt.

"Just forget about it and move on."

He and I were meeting the other day, and I was relating how a passing stranger called me a "motherfucker" recently while I was in public, minding my own business.

Most people would empathetize (briefly) and let the convo move on. Instead of identifying with my distress (modest as it was, but still real), he gave me what I saw as the old school tough-guy spiel.

Surely that spiel is so broken to be hopelessly passe, right?

Per childhood, I often got this "boys don't cry" and "children are meant to be seen and not heard".

I do not judge my parents or their actions. I am responsible for feeling my own feelings (which I am increasingly able to do since getting sober) and being responsible for my actions.

I regret that my father, great as he is in so many ways, still adheres to the don't-show-emotion school of thought.

Yesterday I realized that alot of my adulthood acting out, playing "the screwed up child", is perhaps a way to wring an emotion, empathy out of him. How much do I have act out in order to get a response?

Does anything I wrote make sense? Maybe not.

But I feel better typing it here. And by "better" I mean I feel emotional, raw pain. Like a wound I got years ago and kept pushing down. The wound hurts and is raw, but I feel. I feel. The pain pulses in the sunshine and fresh air.

Thanks for listening.

Hey oak,

You definitely made sense. My dad was the same way until somewhat recently. He still avoids talking about emotions, but instead of saying "why are you crying? stop crying" like he used to before my suicide attempt, multiple hospitalizations and therapy, he tries his best to empathize. I can tell it's really tough for him -- when you grow up and live almost your entire life being told to keep a stiff upper lip, doing anything else is difficult and awkward at best.

I'm really glad that you're breaking that cycle and allowing yourself to feel. Because this reminds me of a piece by Philip Larkin and it's national poetry month, I wanted to share this:

They fuck you up, your mum and dad
They do not mean to but they do
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you

But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another's throats

Man hands on Misery to man
It deepens like a coastal shelf
Get out as early as you can
And don't have any kids yourself

Cheldoll,

Dude*! Great poem. It is so right. It is great to have you on the forum. Thanks for posting; I appreciate it.



* Being a cool dude transcends gender

Everything you wrote makes perfect sense. I got similar treatment from my mother - it wasn't a masculine thing, but it fucked me up in very much the same way. I was afraid of my emotions and sensitivity most of my life.

Thanks all for your responses. I have experienced some healing since then, and y'all have been a big part of that.

Thinking about masculinity:

I watch old movies on Saturdays on tv.

John Wayne was in one where he is in this Wild West town. He is riding a horse in town, buys a newspaper, and blocks traffic while he is reading the paper.

A milk delivery man is unable to get to his destination and tells John Wayne to move it. John Wayne, leering with amusement, pulls out his gun and points it at the milk guy, who is just trying to do his job. Chastened, the milk guy scampers away, emotionally defeated.

By all accounts Marion Morrison was a sophisticated fellow. He radiates charm on "I Love Lucy".

John Wayne is all that I see as broken masculinity.

Humprey Bogart in "Casablanca" and Steve McQueen in anything were genuine masculinity (whatever that means).

I see a generation of men, thankfully dwindling, who are casting off the John Wayne "don't let them see you cry" nonsense for the vulnerability (and true toughness) that I saw in Humphrey Bogart.

Such is my two cents!

Rick in Casablanca is one of the greatest characters ever captured on film. He honors his emotions, but does not give into them when they threaten to make him do the wrong thing. I will never tire of watching that film. My eyes water every time I see that scene where the bar drowns out the German drinking song with La Marseillaise.