My Dad

 My dad admits that he was not always the best listener. In my younger years, high school and jr high days, sometimes we'd get into fights and then we'd go for a ride. I don't remember why or how this arrangement would actually come to pass, but I do remember that going for a ride meant he was going to stick with me as we fought through what we needed to and then we would reach some form of understanding. 

These last few days I have been worried a little about my dad. He needs time to process and it seems as if he does not want to stick it out... Is he okay? Is he suffering more than I know. I thought maybe I should show up and take him for a ride. But then he called to check in today. That is a relief. He says he is okay. He is coming around again, caring enough to stick it out even though it makes him uncomfortable. He felt bad about bringing up the emotions again for me today. "Dad they are always there, but it is much worse trying to figure it out and handle this alone and on my own." I was glad he was trying to help even if it does not feel like he is helping. 

It matters. 

We talk more. I explain a little and he starts to pick up on the depth and complexity of how things like what is happening with USU really effects people and how it has been effecting me. "Is that an issue right now?" he asked concerned about suicidal thoughts. 

"It's not suicidal thoughts," I explain, "it is the impulses that come on strong and with a vengeance through crap like this. They seem to hit each time they hit."

My dad surprises me, "Those are very scary and dangerous," he says. 

I don't know why it surprises me that he has learned to understand it so well, because it was very obvious that an impulse is what killed my younger brother and my dad's eldest son. I don't tell him that the fight with him triggered these intrusive impulsive thoughts. 

I think it is just a shocking contrast to how he perceived these issues and his understanding of such things when I was a teen. Depression was handled with, "quit feeling sorry for yourself," "suck it up" and, "get over it." If I had mentioned suicidal thoughts then I'd have been lectured for it and probably given a church type of lesson. In those years my dad would have probably told me that was stupid and I better not do something stupid like that. Or he would have ignored it and just been embraced or disappointed that I ever thought such things. Now he understands, the impulses are scary and they do not necessarily come from you - you as in who you are. They come from something else; nature, nurture, instinct, injury, chemistry, and a million messages received from external sources all rolled up into intense bursts of images and instant solutions to the fights that are constantly wearing on you. 

Impulses are dangerous. And my regulation of those is compromised because of the injury to the portion of my brain that is most efficient at handling impulses. Added external stresses, especially unjust and unnecessary, depletes my abilities to fight while triggering thoughts that directly stem from the messages they are sending; that I don't matter and they want me to go away. 

People talk big about suicide prevention... but when it comes right down to it, most do not care to learn or understand the realities and even those who are supposed to be professionally trained will carelessly and callously contribute to the triggers and messages that feed the intrusive impulsive thoughts. 

I suppose, as I reflect right now, I am glad that I had a dad that, though misguided at times, at least taught me how to push through and how to fight it out...