Our sufferings are only in vain if we remain silent,
We are a band of brothers and sisters who have struggled against our own minds in a battle that has raged for years. We are a group of survivors that have given our tears, our blood and years of our lives to defeat an invisible enemy. We are the ones that professionals said "You will always be this way". We have survived. We have flourished. We have overcome the odds. We have not given up hope. We are stronger then we think and we have a powerful voice for all those willing to listen. Many want to listen.It's our turn now.
It's our turn to claim our lives. It's our turn to tell our stories. Today, we can rise as a group that have suffered and caused suffering. Our stories we can share with the hopes that another may not travel the paths that have caused so much suffering. Today we have the opportunity to talk about the shadows and the cold nights. Today, we quite literally may hold another's lives in our hands by the bravery to come forward and let the world know of our muddled, but powerful existence. Today, we can begin to repair the damage we have done through a collective voice of hope and healing. It's our turn to give back to so many people that dedicated their lives to our very survival.
We have suffered quietly and alone but no longer. We have a common bond of dried tears on our worn faces each with it's own tale of both happiness and tremendous sadness. The very destruction of our lives will be the rebirth of other's. We no longer have to live in shame. Today, we can stand together and save a life that's worth saving. Today, we can begin to repair the damage of our pasts with the cleansing acts of kindness towards another that is still quietly hiding in the dark.
No longer must another human being huddle in the corner of a dark room quietly suffering from the invisible enemy we all have come to know so well. Our trials, our tribulations, our tears have a meaning:To educate others.
Our sufferings have happened so that another may listen and learn from our stories. The insanity of our lives can bring calm to the storm in the mind of another that hasn't had the chance to realize their own potential voice. The cycle of silence must be broken and today, we can end that cycle with peace and understanding. The shame of our actions doesn't outweigh the possibility of a life we may save tomorrow. As we quietly sit in our homes, leaving our stories dormant collecting the proverbial dust, another is suffering our same fates. It doesn't have to be this way.
What I am asking takes bravery, it takes courage and it requires fortitude. We as R.A.D. survivors posses those qualities simply in the fact that we have survived everything we have. We ARE brave. We ARE courageous. We must overcome the fear of exposing our deepest fears of judgment and realize our most endearing quality: Strength.
We have survived and today we flourish. Let us help another flourish and live in the peace that we as human beings are given by our right to live. Let our voices serve as the testament to the human spirit that someone else believes they lack.
It's time to stand together as brothers, sisters and a family born through tragedy and strife. We are a family of survivors.
We must expose that tragedy and strife and lend our hands and our lives to those that need those qualities.
Otherwise, our sufferings are truly in vain.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Religion and R.A.D. A possibly combustible mixture.
Dear All,
**This post is not meant to offend ANYONE. These are simply my thoughts. Religion is special for each person that it touches. While I don't hold a particular religious belief, It's not my intention to offend anyone of any particular religious interest! I respect everyone's religious background!**
Many of the forums that I have spoken with are "Faith based" forums and I have to tell you R.A.D. and religion don't mix well. I am not a particularly religious person (in fact organized religion in my mind is ridiculous to the point of absurdity).
I remember in a previous post at the age of 12 I thought I was the devil himself. Today, I realize why I believed this. I was TAUGHT that I was the devil. Every Sunday I listened to how I can't have sex before marriage, masturbation was a sin. In fact, almost everything was a sin in my mind.
The precedent had been set.
Many, many R.A.D kids and R.A.D. adults have been cast into a world of both abuse and horror that many people will never completely grasp. We have been the abusers, we have been abused, and for many of us, those horrible memories linger in the back of our minds, ready to strike when the time is right. Religion is a major player in the R.A.D. puzzle in my mind (I'm not a professional, just a R.A.D. survivor).
My parents took me to church because I guess they thought raising me in a Catholic home was a good thing. I can't blame them as they are very religious people. What they and I failed to realize was that everything those pious priests spoke against, I was already knee deep in. As a child, the message I took from religion was that sleeping with a school teacher meant instant hell for me. For a confused, angry child, religion can be an incendiary combination. No, I wasn't the devil, but the "devil" was in my life because of the acts that I engaged in before I understood the context of them. That only scared me.
I see bloggers that are DEEPLY religious going so far as quoting bible passages and I wonder what are their R.A.D. kids taking away from those messages? "Because I had sex when I was 9, I am going to hell?". As a R.A.D. survivor, I can tell you first hand I thought I was the devil because of the basic teachings trying to "save" me from a lifestyle that I had engaged in both freely and against my will. I can understand now why that association formed. Hell and brimstone.
Many R.A.D. kids have already had sex. Many R.A.D. kids and adults have killed. Many R.A.D. Kids and R.A.D. adults have abused. How children process something they don't understand by listening to terrifying stories of hell, the devil and damnation could very well only be making the child feel even worse and setting a precedence:
If I am already going to hell, why stop now? For years, I didn't stop, I only got worse. I was already dead and hell was the only place I was going. Why improve my life?
That's how, 27 years later I came to understand why I felt like the devil. when I was a child, night after night I would slice open an arm to see if I was bleeding, or if I was devoid of human blood and spirit. We have religion and it's absurdity partially to blame for that precedence. The messages that R.A.D kids take away from organized religion can be the exact opposite of what you want them to take away from it.
I say this to all highly religious parents and bloggers out there.
Be VERY careful with what your R.A.D. child takes away from religion and it's teachings. If not, they may very well be taking away a message that they are already doomed.
**This post is not meant to offend ANYONE. These are simply my thoughts. Religion is special for each person that it touches. While I don't hold a particular religious belief, It's not my intention to offend anyone of any particular religious interest! I respect everyone's religious background!**
Many of the forums that I have spoken with are "Faith based" forums and I have to tell you R.A.D. and religion don't mix well. I am not a particularly religious person (in fact organized religion in my mind is ridiculous to the point of absurdity).
I remember in a previous post at the age of 12 I thought I was the devil himself. Today, I realize why I believed this. I was TAUGHT that I was the devil. Every Sunday I listened to how I can't have sex before marriage, masturbation was a sin. In fact, almost everything was a sin in my mind.
The precedent had been set.
Many, many R.A.D kids and R.A.D. adults have been cast into a world of both abuse and horror that many people will never completely grasp. We have been the abusers, we have been abused, and for many of us, those horrible memories linger in the back of our minds, ready to strike when the time is right. Religion is a major player in the R.A.D. puzzle in my mind (I'm not a professional, just a R.A.D. survivor).
My parents took me to church because I guess they thought raising me in a Catholic home was a good thing. I can't blame them as they are very religious people. What they and I failed to realize was that everything those pious priests spoke against, I was already knee deep in. As a child, the message I took from religion was that sleeping with a school teacher meant instant hell for me. For a confused, angry child, religion can be an incendiary combination. No, I wasn't the devil, but the "devil" was in my life because of the acts that I engaged in before I understood the context of them. That only scared me.
I see bloggers that are DEEPLY religious going so far as quoting bible passages and I wonder what are their R.A.D. kids taking away from those messages? "Because I had sex when I was 9, I am going to hell?". As a R.A.D. survivor, I can tell you first hand I thought I was the devil because of the basic teachings trying to "save" me from a lifestyle that I had engaged in both freely and against my will. I can understand now why that association formed. Hell and brimstone.
Many R.A.D. kids have already had sex. Many R.A.D. kids and adults have killed. Many R.A.D. Kids and R.A.D. adults have abused. How children process something they don't understand by listening to terrifying stories of hell, the devil and damnation could very well only be making the child feel even worse and setting a precedence:
If I am already going to hell, why stop now? For years, I didn't stop, I only got worse. I was already dead and hell was the only place I was going. Why improve my life?
That's how, 27 years later I came to understand why I felt like the devil. when I was a child, night after night I would slice open an arm to see if I was bleeding, or if I was devoid of human blood and spirit. We have religion and it's absurdity partially to blame for that precedence. The messages that R.A.D kids take away from organized religion can be the exact opposite of what you want them to take away from it.
I say this to all highly religious parents and bloggers out there.
Be VERY careful with what your R.A.D. child takes away from religion and it's teachings. If not, they may very well be taking away a message that they are already doomed.
Friday, August 7, 2009
Sharing some of my life with the R.A.D. Community. (A suggestion from a friend)
Dear All, Since some of my friends think that I talk plenty of R.A.D. and nothing of myself, I thought I would share some outdoor pictures and some odds and ends with the community since many of you don't know a thing about me! :) :) So here goes!!!! Comments welcome!!!
Me taking a rest at the top of Hocking Hills. That hike damn near killed me!
MMMMM LUNCH AND DINNER! MRE's!!
A primitive survival shelter.
MMMMM LUNCH AND DINNER! MRE's!!
A primitive survival shelter.
A general pack loadout, cold weather operations
It was 20 degrees that day, Ohio River!!
10 degrees outside. Ohio River banks. Note the primitive Shelter! I was cooking food on fire heated rocks!!
Hiking at Eastfork Park. I didn't have a pack on because #1 way too warm #2 it was only a 7 mile hike through some basic hilly terrain. Note the military water canteen!
Me building a primitive hunting trap. No animals were harmed, simple a teaching tool.
A beautiful sunset picture on the ohio river bank. What you don't see is the 10 degree wind.
4am, building a firecone in 5 degree air.
My "walk for adoption" It was a 55 mile trek from Cincy to Dayton. Took 3 days. Not one news carrier covered the walk. Of course.
Me in my vagabonding outfitting. Notice the military trowel.
The view from the remote "Courthouse Rock" in the Red River Gorge. Note the military hunting/survival knife! Saweet!
Fall camping at the gorge. Note the firewood layout.
Me during my 55 mile trek to Dayton. I couldn't life weights, so I chopped alot of wood that day.
So there I am!!
It was 20 degrees that day, Ohio River!!
10 degrees outside. Ohio River banks. Note the primitive Shelter! I was cooking food on fire heated rocks!!
Hiking at Eastfork Park. I didn't have a pack on because #1 way too warm #2 it was only a 7 mile hike through some basic hilly terrain. Note the military water canteen!
Me building a primitive hunting trap. No animals were harmed, simple a teaching tool.
A beautiful sunset picture on the ohio river bank. What you don't see is the 10 degree wind.
4am, building a firecone in 5 degree air.
My "walk for adoption" It was a 55 mile trek from Cincy to Dayton. Took 3 days. Not one news carrier covered the walk. Of course.
Me in my vagabonding outfitting. Notice the military trowel.
The view from the remote "Courthouse Rock" in the Red River Gorge. Note the military hunting/survival knife! Saweet!
Fall camping at the gorge. Note the firewood layout.
Me during my 55 mile trek to Dayton. I couldn't life weights, so I chopped alot of wood that day.
So there I am!!
Thursday, August 6, 2009
It's all our fault.
Dear All,
This post is probably going to get me into some trouble, but unpopular speech every once in a while must be embraced even with the limpest of arms. So, any mean, nasty or inflammatory posts will be automatically deleted.
It is our faults you know. Everyone knows what cancer is. Everyone knows what AIDS is. Everyone knows what bi-polar is. Almost no one knows what R.A.D. is. And it's us that we have to blame. We live in a world were information is transferred at light speed. We are more connected to one another than any other time in human history, and yet Reactive Attachment Disorder always receives the same response:
"What the hell is that".
Since my community portal has opened, I have been on the phone with reporters, doctors and social workers and the answer is always the same. "What is Reactive Attachment Disorder?" While blogging is a great way to expose the myth's of the disorder, more can be done. We can get out, we can speak, we can become united as a community and bring this terrible disorder to the table and begin a dialogue.
One of the problems (And this is just my opinion) that while blogging, forum browsing is a great way to get the message out online, it's not the kind of fundamental action that will FORCE school officials, lawmakers and members of our communities to listen to us. Each of our stories is an important puzzle of R.A.D. and each story is special.
I have heard the argument lately "Too many parents are scared of legal repercussions" by telling their stories. They are afraid they or their children will get into trouble. While I understand that fear, we have to consider as a community what good this is doing. Sure, we may be hiding behind the cloak of "Safety" but we aren't changing the minds and the perceptions of those around us. We are huddling together in our little online forums and blogs discussing issues that we already know about. We are a cliche and that's even worse then saying nothing.
As long as we as a R.A.D. community hide in the shadows afraid of the big bad bear another family may very well be trying to recover a picture out of a burned down home. This happened, recently in Ogden, Utah. Our inability to move past the realm of the online world is WHY no one knows what Reactive Attachment Disorder is. We need to do more and we can do more.
Every blogger out there has the strength, the courage and the fortitude that many other's in the world don't have. We should capitalize on that bravery and galvanize our group. We as an RAD community must come together and begin grassroots programs that don't depend on the online presence. Not everyone has a connection to the net, and not everyone can afford it. Some families have children right now clutching a kitchen knife threatening to kill someone. Are they somehow to magically find our blogs in hopes of some solace and understanding?
Once again, I am not saying the bloggers and forums aren't a great tool, they are. I salute everyone with the bravery to come forward. We must transcend this online world and step into the real one with our messages. They are all powerful messages. Your words could and may very well save a life, TODAY.
We can no longer hope that a family in trouble will find us. We need to find them. Our unified message of hope and healing should no longer remain in the shadows of a blog or a forum.
It's our fault the world doesn't know what R.A.D. is.
Tomorrow, however, is a different story.
Michael
http://www.rad-online.org
This post is probably going to get me into some trouble, but unpopular speech every once in a while must be embraced even with the limpest of arms. So, any mean, nasty or inflammatory posts will be automatically deleted.
It is our faults you know. Everyone knows what cancer is. Everyone knows what AIDS is. Everyone knows what bi-polar is. Almost no one knows what R.A.D. is. And it's us that we have to blame. We live in a world were information is transferred at light speed. We are more connected to one another than any other time in human history, and yet Reactive Attachment Disorder always receives the same response:
"What the hell is that".
Since my community portal has opened, I have been on the phone with reporters, doctors and social workers and the answer is always the same. "What is Reactive Attachment Disorder?" While blogging is a great way to expose the myth's of the disorder, more can be done. We can get out, we can speak, we can become united as a community and bring this terrible disorder to the table and begin a dialogue.
One of the problems (And this is just my opinion) that while blogging, forum browsing is a great way to get the message out online, it's not the kind of fundamental action that will FORCE school officials, lawmakers and members of our communities to listen to us. Each of our stories is an important puzzle of R.A.D. and each story is special.
I have heard the argument lately "Too many parents are scared of legal repercussions" by telling their stories. They are afraid they or their children will get into trouble. While I understand that fear, we have to consider as a community what good this is doing. Sure, we may be hiding behind the cloak of "Safety" but we aren't changing the minds and the perceptions of those around us. We are huddling together in our little online forums and blogs discussing issues that we already know about. We are a cliche and that's even worse then saying nothing.
As long as we as a R.A.D. community hide in the shadows afraid of the big bad bear another family may very well be trying to recover a picture out of a burned down home. This happened, recently in Ogden, Utah. Our inability to move past the realm of the online world is WHY no one knows what Reactive Attachment Disorder is. We need to do more and we can do more.
Every blogger out there has the strength, the courage and the fortitude that many other's in the world don't have. We should capitalize on that bravery and galvanize our group. We as an RAD community must come together and begin grassroots programs that don't depend on the online presence. Not everyone has a connection to the net, and not everyone can afford it. Some families have children right now clutching a kitchen knife threatening to kill someone. Are they somehow to magically find our blogs in hopes of some solace and understanding?
Once again, I am not saying the bloggers and forums aren't a great tool, they are. I salute everyone with the bravery to come forward. We must transcend this online world and step into the real one with our messages. They are all powerful messages. Your words could and may very well save a life, TODAY.
We can no longer hope that a family in trouble will find us. We need to find them. Our unified message of hope and healing should no longer remain in the shadows of a blog or a forum.
It's our fault the world doesn't know what R.A.D. is.
Tomorrow, however, is a different story.
Michael
http://www.rad-online.org
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Happiness and R.A.D. Two Words That Don't Mix
Dear All,
One issue that I never really tackled with R.A.D. is happiness. Those that suffer (or at least) never understood the basic idea of happiness. While I knew the definition of happiness, it was for me, just another word. I was more content hurting someone or something as opposed to being "happy". Sure, I had poignant moments, but the base emotion was totally devoid in my life.
I never understood why people hugged each other and I never really understood why families got together and did things together. I never really completely understood the concept of closeness and unity within a family unit. Joy for me wasn't in the context of healthy, natural things. It was of wanton destruction and depression.
My parents when I was younger talked about how I felt like a "Board" when I was younger. There was simply no connection to anything. I didn't understand why people laughed and had friends. It just made no sense to me.
Even today, it's still very hard to maintain friendships. I still question why ANYONE would want to befriend me, lest love me. It's an emotional disconnection that started 32 years ago. To live in a world without the need to connect was paramount for me.
It's extremely hard to describe. Marythemom asked me what it was like. I told her, it's not like I missed it, because I never understood the need to connect to anyone or anything. In this sense, the motel syndrome took over. (Once again email me about this) I was able to operate as a robot. Alone is what I understood and ironically I was as happy as one with R.A.D. could be.
To accent this point here is an example:
When I was younger I was buy some smokes and a group of guys asked me to come over and hang out. We sat around and talked for a while. It was kind of cool. We talked of course about women, beer and more women. You know, guy stuff. After about 25 minutes of talking, I ended up at home. However, for the next few hours I was bawling. Why? My case manager asked me why I cried about the event? I said "Because I have never really had someone just come up and talk to me like a regular person." This was partly my design.
Even to this day, I have a hard time connecting with other people simply because they don't share the same experiences that I have had. How could they? We meet others and have friendships based on common experiences. For me it is still very odd and uncomfortable to hug other people or have friendships. I don't have that switch in my body that says "Hey! This person is a friend, they aren't going to hurt you.". I have of course learned how not to self sabotage but I still maintain a big distance from other people.
For a R.A.D. person, (Instead of using the ubiquitous RAD CHILD), they live in a sea of people, totally alone, floating along waiting for rescue ship to come by that never does. It's living in a world on your own, even though those around you try to understand your situation but can't. It's a terrible place to be in.
There are still days where I have to remind myself I am trying to do good. I am trying to improve. And then there are days like today where nothing really matters and the depression takes over, full tide. These are days where I and every other R.A.D. survivor has to remind themselves they are beautiful people no matter what they have done or had done to them. It's day's today that RAD sufferer's have to reach out and begin to talk, even though it's the hardest thing for me/them to do.
Reaching out isn't another word in our vocabulary.
Michael
One issue that I never really tackled with R.A.D. is happiness. Those that suffer (or at least) never understood the basic idea of happiness. While I knew the definition of happiness, it was for me, just another word. I was more content hurting someone or something as opposed to being "happy". Sure, I had poignant moments, but the base emotion was totally devoid in my life.
I never understood why people hugged each other and I never really understood why families got together and did things together. I never really completely understood the concept of closeness and unity within a family unit. Joy for me wasn't in the context of healthy, natural things. It was of wanton destruction and depression.
My parents when I was younger talked about how I felt like a "Board" when I was younger. There was simply no connection to anything. I didn't understand why people laughed and had friends. It just made no sense to me.
Even today, it's still very hard to maintain friendships. I still question why ANYONE would want to befriend me, lest love me. It's an emotional disconnection that started 32 years ago. To live in a world without the need to connect was paramount for me.
It's extremely hard to describe. Marythemom asked me what it was like. I told her, it's not like I missed it, because I never understood the need to connect to anyone or anything. In this sense, the motel syndrome took over. (Once again email me about this) I was able to operate as a robot. Alone is what I understood and ironically I was as happy as one with R.A.D. could be.
To accent this point here is an example:
When I was younger I was buy some smokes and a group of guys asked me to come over and hang out. We sat around and talked for a while. It was kind of cool. We talked of course about women, beer and more women. You know, guy stuff. After about 25 minutes of talking, I ended up at home. However, for the next few hours I was bawling. Why? My case manager asked me why I cried about the event? I said "Because I have never really had someone just come up and talk to me like a regular person." This was partly my design.
Even to this day, I have a hard time connecting with other people simply because they don't share the same experiences that I have had. How could they? We meet others and have friendships based on common experiences. For me it is still very odd and uncomfortable to hug other people or have friendships. I don't have that switch in my body that says "Hey! This person is a friend, they aren't going to hurt you.". I have of course learned how not to self sabotage but I still maintain a big distance from other people.
For a R.A.D. person, (Instead of using the ubiquitous RAD CHILD), they live in a sea of people, totally alone, floating along waiting for rescue ship to come by that never does. It's living in a world on your own, even though those around you try to understand your situation but can't. It's a terrible place to be in.
There are still days where I have to remind myself I am trying to do good. I am trying to improve. And then there are days like today where nothing really matters and the depression takes over, full tide. These are days where I and every other R.A.D. survivor has to remind themselves they are beautiful people no matter what they have done or had done to them. It's day's today that RAD sufferer's have to reach out and begin to talk, even though it's the hardest thing for me/them to do.
Reaching out isn't another word in our vocabulary.
Michael
Sunday, August 2, 2009
What is a rage like?
What a rage is like.**Graphic post, read with discretion**
People have told me the people I hurt, the animals I killed and the general rampant destruction was a choice. I can tell you right now, from a R.A.D. perspective, there is no choosing involved. When a rage begins, the loss of control is a complex and the victim of a rage collapses into a darkness that I can only describe as one thing.
The abandonment of self.
The total lack of physical and mental control. It's a dark corner of your mind and your body that you literally have no control over. The only thing that you feel in a rage is a searing, white hot anger that has come from no where but you know it's been there the entire time, ready to bubble up again.
The only thing you want to do in an R.A.D. rage is kill and destroy. There is no choice, and nothing else matters. It's a deep and very profound experience that grips your mind and your body and that very lack of control makes it almost impossible to understand to the laymen or a parent who's house has just been burned down by an angry child.
The rages continued for me until something was dead, something was burned down or I was emotionally and or physically exhausted. There was no stopping me and anyone that did try to stop me would end up dead or in the hospital at the very least.
Rages differ from anger fits in that you can control and regulate your responses to outside or internal stimuli. With rages you cannot regulate that, and there is no magical switch. At least there wasn't one for me.
One particular incident that stands out with me, when I heard the neck snap of an animal that I threw against a wall, the anger only got worse. Not because I just killed again, but because I couldn't control what was happening. I couldn't stop my own hands from destroying whatever I saw.
In a rage, I could feel, I could understand and I could see what I was doing, but there was no way to regulate my actions. The anger came over me like a tidal wave and I was drowning in anger. When I would have rages I would stop thinking, my survival mechanics stopped.
The entire world stood still. It was only me and the anger, with no where to go. I was trapped in a hellish room and there was no door. I simply had to ride through the anger.
For those that don't understand, let's put a perspective to the actual event.
We all watch movies. We go to the theatre. We see a scary movie. We can see whats happening, we can hear and emotionalize, but we are out of control. We are along for the ride. That's exactly what a rage is like.
What is important (And I am not a professional) is finding the triggers that cause those rages. When I was a child, any time I perceived a loss the rages would instantly begin. When my sister left for Greece, I killed her cat. When I lost a girlfriend (Huge issue) I literally ripped my parents house apart from the ceilings to the carpet. Literally. Everything in the house was destroyed. Glasses broken, shelves tipped over, animals dead something burning.
Once the anger passed, I was usually clutching a dead animal or watching something burn. As soon as the rage passed, just like a tornado was in shock as I witnessed the destruction that I myself caused. This of course, only made it worse. I remember being 12 years old and crying myself to sleep, shocked that another animal was dead. I knew in my rages that animal was going to do but I didn't want to kill it. I wanted to die and I couldn't. I was in hell.
As much as i LOVED the violence, I detested it. I clung to it as a way to expression my emotion. Those of us that understand the expression of violence and why it plays such a huge role in a rage. We are fascinated with gore, with death and blood. It is no wonder that this fascination floods over when we rage. It's our best mechanic. It's a love/hate relationship. I can promise all R.A.D. parents these rages aren't ABOUT YOU. It's simply survival mechanic that unfortunately results in terrible loss of life, property and the abandonment of self.
I write this not to shock, and not to offend but educate. I am sharing this part of my life with the R.A.D. community so they may have a better look inside a rage and how they came to be with me. Perhaps, if we look deeper into the triggers of rage and the perceived/actualized loss model there will be less lives ruined by a R.A.D. rage.
Michael
http://www.rad-online.org
People have told me the people I hurt, the animals I killed and the general rampant destruction was a choice. I can tell you right now, from a R.A.D. perspective, there is no choosing involved. When a rage begins, the loss of control is a complex and the victim of a rage collapses into a darkness that I can only describe as one thing.
The abandonment of self.
The total lack of physical and mental control. It's a dark corner of your mind and your body that you literally have no control over. The only thing that you feel in a rage is a searing, white hot anger that has come from no where but you know it's been there the entire time, ready to bubble up again.
The only thing you want to do in an R.A.D. rage is kill and destroy. There is no choice, and nothing else matters. It's a deep and very profound experience that grips your mind and your body and that very lack of control makes it almost impossible to understand to the laymen or a parent who's house has just been burned down by an angry child.
The rages continued for me until something was dead, something was burned down or I was emotionally and or physically exhausted. There was no stopping me and anyone that did try to stop me would end up dead or in the hospital at the very least.
Rages differ from anger fits in that you can control and regulate your responses to outside or internal stimuli. With rages you cannot regulate that, and there is no magical switch. At least there wasn't one for me.
One particular incident that stands out with me, when I heard the neck snap of an animal that I threw against a wall, the anger only got worse. Not because I just killed again, but because I couldn't control what was happening. I couldn't stop my own hands from destroying whatever I saw.
In a rage, I could feel, I could understand and I could see what I was doing, but there was no way to regulate my actions. The anger came over me like a tidal wave and I was drowning in anger. When I would have rages I would stop thinking, my survival mechanics stopped.
The entire world stood still. It was only me and the anger, with no where to go. I was trapped in a hellish room and there was no door. I simply had to ride through the anger.
For those that don't understand, let's put a perspective to the actual event.
We all watch movies. We go to the theatre. We see a scary movie. We can see whats happening, we can hear and emotionalize, but we are out of control. We are along for the ride. That's exactly what a rage is like.
What is important (And I am not a professional) is finding the triggers that cause those rages. When I was a child, any time I perceived a loss the rages would instantly begin. When my sister left for Greece, I killed her cat. When I lost a girlfriend (Huge issue) I literally ripped my parents house apart from the ceilings to the carpet. Literally. Everything in the house was destroyed. Glasses broken, shelves tipped over, animals dead something burning.
Once the anger passed, I was usually clutching a dead animal or watching something burn. As soon as the rage passed, just like a tornado was in shock as I witnessed the destruction that I myself caused. This of course, only made it worse. I remember being 12 years old and crying myself to sleep, shocked that another animal was dead. I knew in my rages that animal was going to do but I didn't want to kill it. I wanted to die and I couldn't. I was in hell.
As much as i LOVED the violence, I detested it. I clung to it as a way to expression my emotion. Those of us that understand the expression of violence and why it plays such a huge role in a rage. We are fascinated with gore, with death and blood. It is no wonder that this fascination floods over when we rage. It's our best mechanic. It's a love/hate relationship. I can promise all R.A.D. parents these rages aren't ABOUT YOU. It's simply survival mechanic that unfortunately results in terrible loss of life, property and the abandonment of self.
I write this not to shock, and not to offend but educate. I am sharing this part of my life with the R.A.D. community so they may have a better look inside a rage and how they came to be with me. Perhaps, if we look deeper into the triggers of rage and the perceived/actualized loss model there will be less lives ruined by a R.A.D. rage.
Michael
http://www.rad-online.org
Friday, July 31, 2009
I found my voice on a river
Dear All,
I am doing my best to keep up with all the blogs I read, trying to get my book sold, I am gearing up for a survival lecture in August, headed out of state to check out a RAD RTC, I am also spearheading radonline, I am hip deep in a mailing campaign for that project and on top of all of that, I am trying to run a survival school at Eastfork State Park. If I don't reply on all the blogs that I read, it's not you..I am just bunched up for time!
**update: I will be having minor surgery as well...OY!**
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
I found my my voice on the river.
(This is the FIRST time I have told this story, it's a very sacred story to me)
I decided last night, as I was leaving the emergency room that I would talk about something very special that happened to me a few years ago that I believe was the actual start of my recovery. I thought it would be best to talk about how I found my own voice after my life was completely destroyed and riddled with horrible memories.
I knew that deep down I had to make a fundamental change in my life. I didn't know how to do this. My survival mechanics were lying, stealing, drinking and manipulating. I didn't have a conscience. I had nothing to cling to. I had no friends, no job, no future. I both came to rely upon the very survival instincts that were killing me. In many respects, R.A.D. is a catch 22 in that the survival mechanics that R.A.D. sufferers will utilize are the very same mechanics that will eventually tear them apart.
My world was coming to an end very fast. It was either change or die.
That change came with a river.
While I was living with my parents (At the tender age of 30) I saw a movie called "Into The Wild". I saw the story of someone alot like myself. The story talks about how a young man had to shed his belief system in order to "Find himself". I won't spoil the story for those that haven't seen the movie. He travels across the country, seeing awe inspiring sights and learning to live with nothing. He was very much a vagabond and he was also trying to find that self realization and actualization.
This was the answer I was looking for. I knew what I had to do. I had to PROVE to MYSELF that I could, in effect, survive on my own. I had to prove to myself that I had self worth no matter how meager to others. It was paramount to my survival that I found that edge that I could straddle between life and death. I had to push the limits of myself in order to find my own values and core beliefs. It was time.
So, I started traveling into the woods. Deep into the back country. I would trek out without really telling anyone where I was going. It just so happened that the Ohio River was the spot where I found my own rebirth. This is great stuff, the stuff of legend that alot of people talk about but very few have the opportunity as adults to experience.
It was 22 degrees outside when I loaded up my military hiking pack with nothing but food, 1 set of clothes, a digital camera and nothing else. I was so fed up with my own life, I made the decision that I was going to measure myself against the elements. I was either going to freeze to death or I was going to walk out of the woods a different person. This, believed was the last chance I had to prove to myself that I could survive on my own, without hurting someone else in the process. If I froze to death, it would have been a noble undertaking in my opinion at the time. Change or die.
I set out on my journey along the Ohio Riverbanks, through thickets, hills, crevasses and I did have to ford the river in one place. I finally made it to the spot where I wanted set up camp. Oddly, I was proud of the fact I was able to make it so far. I could see a storm coming in. Considering the fact that I had no shelter, 1 set of clothes and I was already soaked, there was a serious danger of hypothermia.
I found some huge dead tree limbs. The garbage bag I brought with me was the only object that I had that could provide some shelter. I immediately started a fire and began building a survival shelter. It was hard work, and as the clouds loomed overhead, I had to shed clothes.
Before I knew it, I had found my value.
With my shelter complete, a warming fire started and munching down on an MRE the most beautiful thing in my life happened. It began to snow.
The riverbanks and the surrounding area were devoid of any sound, except the running river and the snow hitting my shelter. The pattering of the snow against my shelter reminded me without this object that I built with my own hands, on my own saved my life. Not only was I alive, I was with nature and I was seeing the most beautiful landscape that I have ever seen. The silence left me with nothing but own shadows to look upon.
I was so ecstatic that I had saved my own life and created something that was mine and mine alone I had to call a friend. I was almost shouting/crying about how beautiful and how proud I was of the accomplishment that I had made. I learned to survive without the constraints of the society I had come to hate with such passion. I was far away from all the people I had hurt and hurt me in return. I was in a place that was my own, that no one will ever be able to take away from me.
The snow, the smell of the fire, the running water and the fact that while I was shivering, I was alive was one of the purest expressions of happiness that I have ever experienced before. I was truly ALIVE.
What I did was extremely dangerous, but it was necessary. I had to challenge myself and face my own mortality. I had to learn how to live all over again.
My family of course was extremely confused. I was shedding the belief system that never fit me in adoption and building my OWN core belief system. I always knew my adoption felt more like a pre-fabricated life that didn't belong to me. All of the things that were taught to me weren't mine. They were someone else's. The more times that I walked into the woods alone, the more lessons I learned about my values and life.
My family didn't understand how a computer tech savvy person could transform into a bearded hiker that took too many dangerous chances in the woods. I am sure it was scary for my family and a few times, I came close to dying in the woods (but that's another story). Everything my adoptive family believed in and taught me never fit me. This was the real me. I was learning that the woods was my home. I was learning that that all the glamour and glitz and shiny gold plated dreams weren't for me.
The simplicity of learning to live my life on my own terms took over. The connections had I believe were finally reset. I had to learned to live with nothing and survive on my own.
Those days on the river are long gone and this is the first time I am talking about this experience with the community. For a long time, I only shared it with two other people on this planet. It's an important story and a story that I think is time to share.
There are still days where I long to be on the river. I long to feel the sting of freezing snow along a white landscape. There are still days I yearn to smell that fire all over again and listen to the pattering of snow hitting my shelter. I still long to hear the sound of silence. I still yearn to feel the biting half frozen water as I ford a river with a 50 pound pack.
I still hike and I still camp out but it's nothing like that winter years ago.
Perhaps, it's best to leave those waters behind and look towards new ones.
Michael
http://www.rad-online.org/
I am doing my best to keep up with all the blogs I read, trying to get my book sold, I am gearing up for a survival lecture in August, headed out of state to check out a RAD RTC, I am also spearheading radonline, I am hip deep in a mailing campaign for that project and on top of all of that, I am trying to run a survival school at Eastfork State Park. If I don't reply on all the blogs that I read, it's not you..I am just bunched up for time!
**update: I will be having minor surgery as well...OY!**
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
I found my my voice on the river.
(This is the FIRST time I have told this story, it's a very sacred story to me)
I decided last night, as I was leaving the emergency room that I would talk about something very special that happened to me a few years ago that I believe was the actual start of my recovery. I thought it would be best to talk about how I found my own voice after my life was completely destroyed and riddled with horrible memories.
I knew that deep down I had to make a fundamental change in my life. I didn't know how to do this. My survival mechanics were lying, stealing, drinking and manipulating. I didn't have a conscience. I had nothing to cling to. I had no friends, no job, no future. I both came to rely upon the very survival instincts that were killing me. In many respects, R.A.D. is a catch 22 in that the survival mechanics that R.A.D. sufferers will utilize are the very same mechanics that will eventually tear them apart.
My world was coming to an end very fast. It was either change or die.
That change came with a river.
While I was living with my parents (At the tender age of 30) I saw a movie called "Into The Wild". I saw the story of someone alot like myself. The story talks about how a young man had to shed his belief system in order to "Find himself". I won't spoil the story for those that haven't seen the movie. He travels across the country, seeing awe inspiring sights and learning to live with nothing. He was very much a vagabond and he was also trying to find that self realization and actualization.
This was the answer I was looking for. I knew what I had to do. I had to PROVE to MYSELF that I could, in effect, survive on my own. I had to prove to myself that I had self worth no matter how meager to others. It was paramount to my survival that I found that edge that I could straddle between life and death. I had to push the limits of myself in order to find my own values and core beliefs. It was time.
So, I started traveling into the woods. Deep into the back country. I would trek out without really telling anyone where I was going. It just so happened that the Ohio River was the spot where I found my own rebirth. This is great stuff, the stuff of legend that alot of people talk about but very few have the opportunity as adults to experience.
It was 22 degrees outside when I loaded up my military hiking pack with nothing but food, 1 set of clothes, a digital camera and nothing else. I was so fed up with my own life, I made the decision that I was going to measure myself against the elements. I was either going to freeze to death or I was going to walk out of the woods a different person. This, believed was the last chance I had to prove to myself that I could survive on my own, without hurting someone else in the process. If I froze to death, it would have been a noble undertaking in my opinion at the time. Change or die.
I set out on my journey along the Ohio Riverbanks, through thickets, hills, crevasses and I did have to ford the river in one place. I finally made it to the spot where I wanted set up camp. Oddly, I was proud of the fact I was able to make it so far. I could see a storm coming in. Considering the fact that I had no shelter, 1 set of clothes and I was already soaked, there was a serious danger of hypothermia.
I found some huge dead tree limbs. The garbage bag I brought with me was the only object that I had that could provide some shelter. I immediately started a fire and began building a survival shelter. It was hard work, and as the clouds loomed overhead, I had to shed clothes.
Before I knew it, I had found my value.
With my shelter complete, a warming fire started and munching down on an MRE the most beautiful thing in my life happened. It began to snow.
The riverbanks and the surrounding area were devoid of any sound, except the running river and the snow hitting my shelter. The pattering of the snow against my shelter reminded me without this object that I built with my own hands, on my own saved my life. Not only was I alive, I was with nature and I was seeing the most beautiful landscape that I have ever seen. The silence left me with nothing but own shadows to look upon.
I was so ecstatic that I had saved my own life and created something that was mine and mine alone I had to call a friend. I was almost shouting/crying about how beautiful and how proud I was of the accomplishment that I had made. I learned to survive without the constraints of the society I had come to hate with such passion. I was far away from all the people I had hurt and hurt me in return. I was in a place that was my own, that no one will ever be able to take away from me.
The snow, the smell of the fire, the running water and the fact that while I was shivering, I was alive was one of the purest expressions of happiness that I have ever experienced before. I was truly ALIVE.
What I did was extremely dangerous, but it was necessary. I had to challenge myself and face my own mortality. I had to learn how to live all over again.
My family of course was extremely confused. I was shedding the belief system that never fit me in adoption and building my OWN core belief system. I always knew my adoption felt more like a pre-fabricated life that didn't belong to me. All of the things that were taught to me weren't mine. They were someone else's. The more times that I walked into the woods alone, the more lessons I learned about my values and life.
My family didn't understand how a computer tech savvy person could transform into a bearded hiker that took too many dangerous chances in the woods. I am sure it was scary for my family and a few times, I came close to dying in the woods (but that's another story). Everything my adoptive family believed in and taught me never fit me. This was the real me. I was learning that the woods was my home. I was learning that that all the glamour and glitz and shiny gold plated dreams weren't for me.
The simplicity of learning to live my life on my own terms took over. The connections had I believe were finally reset. I had to learned to live with nothing and survive on my own.
Those days on the river are long gone and this is the first time I am talking about this experience with the community. For a long time, I only shared it with two other people on this planet. It's an important story and a story that I think is time to share.
There are still days where I long to be on the river. I long to feel the sting of freezing snow along a white landscape. There are still days I yearn to smell that fire all over again and listen to the pattering of snow hitting my shelter. I still long to hear the sound of silence. I still yearn to feel the biting half frozen water as I ford a river with a 50 pound pack.
I still hike and I still camp out but it's nothing like that winter years ago.
Perhaps, it's best to leave those waters behind and look towards new ones.
Michael
http://www.rad-online.org/
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