I have finally turned my facebook back on. I had a nice two month break away from the platform and I am thankful for it. I feel as if I can use the platform now without being sucked in and spending unnecessary energy on people and conversations that are inconsequential. I look forward to doing my best to push people away from facebook and towards decentralized platforms like Steemit.
In my time away from facebook I had several moments of clarity regarding the source of my stress and anxiety. I have written about how fb itself made me stressed out, but it would be wrong (and irresponsible) for me to place the blame on Mark Zuckerberg alone. I had to slow down and examine where my uncertainty comes from and why I feel like I am missing something.
Why do I feel like I am missing something? Why has this feeling stayed with me for so long?
I received the answers (or at least, part of the answer) on my birthday and on Christmas eve. Readers of this blog know that I spent my 33rd birthday in a beautiful, off-grid community in Costa Rica. While I was there celebrating my life, surrounded by wonderful people, I had a moment to reflect. It was one of those moments where you know something is weighing heavy on your heart and mind, and you’re not even sure you want to talk about it, but it spills out despite your best efforts. I was laying in bed with my partner, talking about my next year, and reflecting on the last year. Before I knew it I found myself talking about my birth father and how his absence has affected me.
For those who are unaware, this relationship (or lack thereof) is something I have openly discussed to crowds all around the U.S. and even now Mexico and Costa Rica. I won’t get too much into the details at this moment, but let me just say my father has been a drug addict and in and out of prison my entire life. As you can imagine this has affected me greatly. I even had my own struggles with drug addiction, prison, depression, and recovery. (I actually talked with @Lukewearechange a couple years ago about this issue).
Then, on Christmas I was driving to my mom's house - just cruising and being high- and the next thing I know I am thinking of him again.I felt overcome with sadness and knew that tears were coming. I decided to pull over immediately and allow myself to feel this moment. I have told myself I was over these pains, but it seems as if there is more healing to do.
In the last few years I have made huge strides in overcoming my emotional struggles and pains related to this relationship. As an adult I have even been able to counsel my birth father and offer him advice. It was an odd role reversal for me. I am not a parent and I don’t think I will ever be, but for a moment I acted like a father figure to my own birth father. I told him that I am an adult now and that I no longer need the father-son relationship I once thought I needed. I told him who I have become. He told me was proud of me. Then he asked me if I could help him score some cannabis. I love cannabis and appreciate the medicine and believe all people should have access to what they want. However, I have never had any fantasies about partying with my father. And that’s not the type of relationship I wanted.
So I turned him down. I said, “Man, I can’t help you. I want to be here for you, but not like that.” I told him that I hoped he could figure out what is at the root of his addiction and emotional trauma so he could live a life that doesn’t consist of prison and drugs. I looked him in the eyes, with tears streaming down my face, and said, “I want you to have a life. I want you to have more than this.’ He told me he was proud of me. Soon after that conversation he went to turn himself back into the authorities for another recent parole violation. He is now locked up again and will be out in a few months time.
No matter what I do, no matter how many drugs I do, how many times I have sex or distract myself with material possessions or accomplishments, nothing can fill this hole. That’s what I used to think. These days I know that I can fill myself up with love and value. I know that to be true, but I still struggle with wishing we could catch up. I wish I knew what it was like to call up a “dad’ and talk about life. But I don’t. And that’s fine. I know there is a huge opportunity for healing this year. And for that I am thankful. I hope he can heal this year as well.
Troy Broze, I want the best for you.
I am an investigative journalist and liberty activist; a Lead Investigative Reporter for ActivistPost.com and the founder of the TheConsciousResistance.com & The Houston Free Thinkers. I have also co-authored three books with @johnvibes: The Conscious Resistance: Reflections on Anarchy and Spirituality and Finding Freedom in an Age of Confusion, Vol. 1 and Finding Freedom in an Age of Confusion, Vol. 2
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