Silence and Insecurities

My silence still gets me in situations when prolonged, tension filled silence is necessary. The origins of why I am frequently silent are a few I can touch. Silence is a conduit to my reality. I made a lot of noise as a latch key kid. I had the most enjoyable times with my friends and family but importance was never raised - at least to a level I can remember an impact. I usually handled importance alone. That habit became my comfort. The comfort became my life's prescription.

Another reason for my silence caresses it like a pedophile does a child. Anger and trying to manage it keeps me silent. I know my temper but I don't understand it. My father is an angry man but I have relatively little to be angry about. Despite my parents' being separated for much of my teen years, I had a great childhood. I don't remember being angry about anything until I reached my 20's. Most of the anger was instigated by the ignorance of others - those others who purposely had no consideration or compassion for anyone else. I'm a selfish dude. I like what I like. I do impulsive things. I'm insane in protecting my character but I also do hundreds of little unseen things to make someone's life a bit easier. Still... anger is an issue. My anger is secretive. My anger is embarrassing. Ask my daughter Sydney. She's seen me blow up on others and I'm afraid her quiet confidence is pre erupted anger. If there was a trauma that birthed the anger, I would break through it to heal. I don't know the source and I try not to feed my anger. I rarely watch the news. I avoid closed minds. I sit back and watch before engaging. I enjoy my daughters. I'm passionate about photography. I use to avoid my father but I want him to feel joy before he dies. At Christmas dinner, I addressed his anger. For the first time, he seemed to listen.

Less than a year ago, I'm sitting at my parents' kitchen table. My Dad is standing a few feet away giving my brother's wife and his daughters the blues. There was no censor to his degradation of them. They weren't present so it was easy for him to go on-an-on but I'm not the audience for the bullshit. I had enough and slammed my hand on the table. He slammed his hand on the table and reverted to the "this is my house" routine. He was right about his possession but I read him like I had my favorite book in hand. A lot of harsh truths were yelled and ended with Fuck you! Over the line I know. My Dad picked up a chair and threw it at me. It fell short so he lunged at me. Calmly, I picked up the chair and hit him hard enough to make him fall. Strangely, I didn't feel any anger. I wanted to just walk away but the bullshit kept coming from his mouth. I picked up a heavier chair and I felt the anger rush. I felt my facial expression change. I bit my lip and tasted the violence. It was the taste I remember when I was living on Congress St and a young fool felt the wrath of my aluminum bat. I was about to swing the chair but my brother grabbed me and kept me in a bear hug. My mom pushed my Dad into another room and I left.

Everyday I practice restraint because I have no control of my anger. Silence is still part of my restraint. I live with my girlfriend. I can't avoid her like I avoid others. I don't want to avoid her but recently avoidance has become necessary. She thinks my silence is uncaring and it lowers her self esteem. The silence is caring enough to not talk to her like I talked to my father. My anger is irrational and without logic so I stay quiet. My anger is impulsive and sometimes unforgiving so I stay quiet. When she reads me, I protect myself then fall silent instead of a verbal alternative that would be explosive. I make peace as best as an angry person can then I fall silent. I can't take anymore words. The logic is omitted on both ends. We both say we made an effort to talk but that's bull shit. We both say we made an effort to be compassionate but that's also bull shit. We are both closed. If we weren't, the apologies would be easier. The tender touch when needed would be easier to extend. So we stay silent and stew in the tension.

Obviously, silence is not conducive to a healthy relationship but I'm hesitant of any other way. I'm sensitive and my girlfriend has thin skin. She seeks an absolute truth to some things that don't have an absolute answer. Because of my silence, the unknown makes her mind race. The accusations and assumptions flow. I still make bonehead decisions but of course my perception of the mistake is less dramatic than hers which brings another point of contention. She will believe I don't care about her feelings. She will believe her self worth is zero. The 180 degrees are the feelings shouldn't be so extreme that we are now both anxiety ridden and feeling that the other doesn't give a shit. Now words don't matter. Opinions are fact. There's no logic. There's no rationale. There's plenty of silence. There's plenty of anger and there's plenty of restraint not to yell at her like she's a stranger. I don't want to reach a point where dislike overcomes everything I love about her. The bumps and bruises shouldn't be suicidal to our relationship. I stay quiet and weather the storm. Unfortunately, we are in hurricane season.