Category Archives: Writing

THROUGH A PRISM

I suppose no one has noticed that the Facebook entries have pretty much been about Janis. (For me it has always been about Janis.) I can’t say how many times I’ve attempted to write about her. The current book that sits quietly awaiting my attention for publication is completed. Except, as I re-read it I find myself still wrestling with the feeling that I will never be able to relate the minutiae of our life. Not in a way that will satisfy my effort to convey the complex relationship with this girl who took my heart as a boy, and looking for love and trust, weaved her damaged little girl into our life. She always turned to me when her life spun out from under her. She depended on me for safety, acceptance with no strings attached, and she trusted my loyalty to her. It will be a life’s work to understand it myself. I refer to Janis as my zen koan.

In the writing of Entangled and Love in the Time of Corona, I wanted to express through a linking of different approaches to how entangled we were. I explored it by way of psychology, spirituality, science, philosophy, and our poetry (poems simple, but sweet). Still, it feels ineffectual. I also note that it is unlikely that my meager effort to delve into this relationship can be achieved by tossing this mixture in such a cursory way. My hope is that at least if there is any interest in the dynamics that I present, in the shallow text of Entangled and Love in the Time of Corona, others may search through the listed sources/resources for a deeper understanding of their own relationships within friendship, love, and marriage. It is my experience and belief that commitment, compromise, and compassion are essential. This is especially true in marriage. It’s the difficult times and the good times–maybe, even more, the difficult times–the understanding of what the other brings from their life into yours–this is the magic. If it’s love that is the motive and not just the contract, that assures that it is virtuous. Caritas is a Latin term for unconditional, selfless love. This is the core of all spiritual teachings. As Jacquie Wallen has written, “Giving freely and generously without reluctance or compulsion, what we have decided in our hearts to give.” (see also, 2 Cor. 9:6-7) It’s this caritas that distinguishes between a codependent relationship and a compassionately based decision (in as much as Sapolsky’s* work dismantles the notion of free will, and intended or not, opens the quantum field to the concept of karma). There is such a thing as stupid compassion, and some relationships need major adjustments. Any extremes, even with compassion, are problematic and create issues that need common sense and reasonable responses. But when in doubt, choose compassion.

When I fell in love with Janis we both were kids. I had no idea of her past abuse, I only knew that I loved her, she was my friend. As time passed it was the gradual awareness of all that she had lived with up to the time we met, that weaved her into my world and we cleaved together with the love that we each had for the other. We were already entangled long before we met, we just didn’t know it. The motivation for writing the book by that title is about this cleaving, this weaving of our lives, of our hearts, of our beings. It is my effort to understand how two people from opposite sides of this spectrum (defined as “a continuum of color formed when a beam of white light is dispersed, as by passage through a prism, so that its component wavelengths are arranged in order.” **) of childhood experiences, found each other. It’s not original, but it happened to us so it’s original to us, and I’ve spent these last few years grappling with this in wonderment.

Confession: I’ve been hanging onto this book for reasons that are personal. I want to publish it, but I’m reluctant. (Some have previewed the book, a few friends, professionals, and family members) some of which have read the manuscript and offered that the personal intimacy of the book was uncomfortable. I acknowledge that. Very much so. However, I feel strongly about the issue of child sexual abuse and the long-term impact it has on the victim and later on, in their marriage and families–their friends; and it is also for those predators who take advantage of vulnerable others for their own purposes, to maybe–maybe, understand that what they do is harmful. Society suffers also, for instance, the economics of treatment sometimes a lifetime of treatment, institutional/incarcerations, placements, and medications, substance abuse, physical health…and more. The karmic range of this web of betrayal and violence is wide and destructive to our lives–to our human ecology. The subject of this book is larger than just the story of Janis and me. Using us and our life together in this uncomfortable story feels like a sacrifice, because it is. Giving up just this small part of our story is intimate and revealing of the hurt, the damage, the personal pain. The daily battle. It is a sharing that hopefully gives some purpose for Janis and her life. She wanted that: for her life to mean something. She participated with me in workshops and shared her childhood with people. I ask that readers use compassion for the young girl who became a friend, a woman, a wife, a mother, an artist, a survivor with the invisible wounds that came along with her into the rest of her world.

So…with love, risk–hope, and with few regrets, Entangled and Love in the Time of Corona is presented with minor adjustments (for the sake of intimacy for some).

___________________________

*Behave, The Biology of Humans at Our Best and Worst, Robert M. Sapolsky, Penguin Press, 2017.

**Merriam-Webster Dictionary.

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entangled

Janis is still showing gains she made in palliative care last Fall. However, it appears that she has plateaued at a level where she was at a couple years ago. And, like everything about this disease, it is welcome and frustrating. Welcome because it creates hope (in spite of the realities), and a degree of gratefulness (to again, have some limited capacity to interact, communicate, to share each other during visits). Yesterday, Cathi and Sonia showed up with our cousin, Priscilla. Priscilla is now 80 years old and looks about 60-ish. (One can only hope that these genes are shared generously). Janis from her wheelchair, smiled and chuckled with recognition and excitement. She still lacks speech, other than an occasional remark which may or may not reflect context. Still, when she smiles and laughs, these are positives that indicate a quality of life.

Today was my second visit since returning from a trip with my grandson, Rob, to Virginia, to stay with Stacia and Tim for a few days. We visited D.C. and hit all the tourist sites. When we returned to Maine, Wednesday, we flew into Portland early (10:30 am). I retrieved my car from Maya’s house in Harpswell, and drove to Lewiston to visit Janis. When I arrived in her room, I stood at the foot of her bed (nap time after lunch), and when she looked up I threw my arms up and wide to display my excitement to see her. Big smiles to light up the room! We hugged and cuddled on her bed briefly while I spoke into her left ear, how much I’d missed her. Every time I pulled back to see if she had heard me, she gave a big smile and nodded. The visit went late, but as she tired I decided to leave. I told her I would be back. And, as usual, just in case she had any doubt, and to be certain that she understood, I kiss her and assure her I’ll be back. This is one of the benefits/gains that comes with her release from palliative care.

The remarkable bounce Janis got in palliative care that allowed her to recover from a hard-core decline, included, among other things, hospice care requesting that she come off all the medication, excepting two, one for pain, the other an antidepressant. Janis had been on a long-term (years) cocktail of medications, and acquired more after her placement. It was a consensus that a major, and likely, recovery from going into palliative care, was the dropping of those medications. So, I mention this that others with folks in care be aware of the side effects of long term, multiple medications and the impact that can have on patients–Janis was dying.

There are still days that are emotionally difficult, but to a lesser degree than a while ago. For four years I stubbornly avoided medication. But one day last October, I found myself incapable of denying that I was depressed. I stopped in the middle of a bout of grief one night, and took inventory of myself: my kids, and friends had expressed concern; I had lost much weight; I couldn’t sleep; no appetite, and, amid a series of poor decisions and struggling to keep bills paid (I did manage to not fall behind, but it took much longer, to double and triple my proofing before allowing myself to do each electronic payment), I recognized that I was exhausted. In all my life I have never felt such depth of dismay. Awash in guilt, regret, anger, and authentic confusion, by that I mean, almost every decision I made I had to review it a number of times before acting on my thinking (this could take a few seconds, or a day of considerable doubt). I no longer trusted myself. I tried not to display this (and this takes energy and effort!). As I ruminated almost continuously, my loss of Janis and the remainder of our time together in our retirement, I also became hypersensitive to her plight. Years. A lifetime of depression and the trauma of a childhood now lost to her, and not recoverable.

Depression. Now, I confess, I thought I knew what depression is…but, if you have not experienced it, I don’t believe it is likely that it can be truly understood how debilitating it is. My appreciation for what Janis suffered, is more heightened after this experience. I did end up on an antidepressant and within days, almost immediately felt relief. No side effects and a fresh, clear mind to get me through each day. I still have to deal with the same grief, but the experience is normalized and no longer a raging in my brain to fight for the focus to get things done.

When I visit Janis now, I am able to be 100% available to her in every way, for the entire time. And I can now focus on Entangled, which has been held hostage for nearly five years.

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Update on Entangled

I recently completed the first draft of Entangled. I posted it on Facebook. Maine Novels by Robert Chapman. I will add some notes to the website robertwchapman.com and return to start a first round of editing and proofing. I hope to hire a professional for these two tasks as well as doing my own work on it, but truth be told, it is not recommended that a writer proof their own work. (Can’t always see your own errors or other transgressions.) Entangled is something like a memoir, but not formatted or organized as a traditional script. I like to think that it is my testimonial to the girl I fell in love with in high school and the woman I love today. Janis resides in a Unit for people who suffer dementia. However, we continue our love and our relationship today…together/apart. This book is an attempt to share our love, marriage and the unique inclusion of what Janis brought to our lives. Janis had multiple diagnoses that were the result of childhood abuse. Our love, our marriage, our lives, were caught up in the web of that early trauma. This is about my love for her and her courage and struggle with a childhood lost.

My next step is to continue to proof the text while looking to publish. This next step also involves sending the draft for our children to review before I publish. I also have someone to do the Forward to the book. A retired LCSW with experience in private practice with trauma, and in child welfare work as well. Very important credentials for this book. Then, I also want some input into design of the interior text and the cover. I am doubtful that publishers will allow me that kind of involvement. Traditional publishing companies usually want that kind of contractual control for purposes of marketing. If they do not allow me to have some creative input then I will go back to self-publishing. (Marketing is not my priority, I don’t need the income. Besides…what am I gonna do with a million dollars? Wait…

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Filed under Alzheimer's, child abuse, dementia, mental health, Uncategorized, Writing

The Perfect (Brain) Storm (part one)

There are two bodies of work that I want to present at the beginning of this post, and if I can figure out how, I will attach a couple of links for those interested in looking into this a little more.

The first is a huge body of research by Vincent Felitti, MD, with the Kaiser Permanente Medical Care Program in San Diego:  Turning Gold into Lead, The Relationship of Adverse Childhood Experiences to Adult Health (ACE Study). I met Dr. Felitti at a training workshop several years ago. Later, following the publication of my book, A Certain Fall*, he invited us both to a workshop in Bangor, Maine. I introduced him to Janis. We spoke for a few minutes about her history and the ACE Study.

The second is a recent book by Robert M. Sopolsky,  professor of biology and neurology at Stanford University.  BEHAVE, The Biology of Humans at Our Best and Worst. A book that covers, as the title states, biology, the nervous system and the impact of child abuse on the brain and physical health of humans. This book, though a little challenging (kinda technical and immensely detailed in places) is a humbling and sobering look at what happens to the brain and bodies of children suffering abuse. And coupled with Dr. Felitti’s work, and my own thirty plus years in child welfare, jolted me, when I understood what I had intuited all these years with Janis: she suffered The Perfect (Brain) Storm.

As I continue to work on Entangled, I sometimes get lost in the 50+ years of our lives together. Adding to that, the theme of the book is not just a biographical text, but a text that describes how Janis fought back against the darkness, the fog of depression that covered all  her days, the courage, the determination it took to get through her daily life. And in the end to leave her home, her two cats, her trips to the sea collecting sea glass, her family, and enter a locked unit to wait…

So why write about this? Really. It’s depressing. Why? Because Janis wanted to help others. She held a deep compassion and empathy for victims (including all wildlife and domestic animals. I’m still wading through all the mailings, magazines, and materials she subscribed to. Anyone need a free wildlife calendar? Or maybe some cute kitten stickers, address labels? Wrong address a problem?) She and I hoped that by sharing about her life it may help, even just a little, to build an awareness of the significance of early childhood abuse and the disastrous effect it has on our society. I’m convinced that if we can find a way to end or at least diminish the prevalence of child abuse in our culture, hell, all cultures world wide, it will make life a little sweeter for all our children, but as Felitti and Sopolsky attest, it may solve most of society’s problems: physical and mental health, addictions, violence, etc.

These posts will promote both of the above texts and point out some of the findings they have generated. It is an education worth pursuing.

Okay. Now how do I link you to some data sites?  Hmmm. If all else fails, check my Facebook page for a link to any sites that carries information on the ACE Study.

* A Certain Fall, published in 2005 is now out of print, I will be revising and updating this book for a new edition. There may be some old, early editions available as used books via Amazon.

http://www.robertwchapman.com / FB: Maine Novels by Robert Chapman


 

 

 

 

 

 

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Filed under Alzheimer's, child abuse, Writing