The First Day

Today is the first day that my son is at my home with just me and himself – without any other transitional person here with him. So far he is doing amazingly well and we are having a great time playing in the yard and throwing tennis balls with the dogs. 

Tonight will be his first night sleeping here without his grandma. We are thinking that the first night of him sleeping alone will be a major step in his transition process. I hope it goes well tonight. 

Yesterday I was able to speak with a congnitive behavioral therapist that will be working along side my son using cognitive/play therapy. Figuring out what he believes about his mothers death is vital in understanding where he is mentally and emotionally. If we can get him to voice his emotions out loud it will empower him through his emotional processes. I feel really good about the expertise and school of thought that this therapist works with. 

We are planning to have a small “party” this Saturday as the final move takes place. All the people he was living with will be there as well as his new family – Maiju and me. A new beginning for him and the start of a new foundation. I know these ground shaking changes can be traumatic for young children so I hope we have eliminated as much of that as possible. 

I am open and honest to him about his situation and what is taking place. I don’t want anything to catch him off gaurd or to be a surprise. Knowledge for children lowers their anxiety of the unknown. Plus I believe children know far more than we give them credit for. If an 18 month old infant is capable of concept formation, I must believe my son knows exactly what’s going on. 

Just a quick update. It’s not drug related but I am dealing with a completely new scene in life and I am doing it sober. I have to and I want to. I have a wife and son who need me to stick around for the long haul. 

P.S. My son’s grandma is currently reading my memoir and it’s a little nerve wracking to know that she will be reading what I wrote about her daughters character. Hopefully it don’t upset her too much. I am certain her daughter died before reading it which is unfortunate. Too many damn people die of addiction. Thanks for listening to my rambling. Hope you all have a great holiday weekend and for those outside the USA, I hope you have a great weekend!

thera-Peas’

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I have been seeing a therapist the last four weeks. We’ve been discussing why I have so many issues with food. Because food is the fuel that keeps us alive, this was the first issue I needed to address with him. For the majority of my life, I have been the type of person who sees food as a hassle – a waste of valuable time – a pain in my ass. I have never enjoyed the action of eating food. Very seldom have I been “excited” to sit down and eat a meal. Many times I would go most the day before realising I had not eaten anything. When my dad passed away in 2013, my issue with food became worse.

Being an addict, I often wonder if being addicted to food would be a nice change of scenery. I find that thought so far out of the realm of possibility though. Maybe not. Who knows.

My unconscious is holding the key to unlock my food issue and I am going to find it. My therapist has helped me understand some important factors that contribute to this. As a child, the majority of memories I have about food were quite terrifying to me. Weather it was the notion that I must clean off my plate before getting up from the dinner table or being forced to eat something I knew I would dislike – as a youngster, these were scary situations for me. Do my foul early memories of food contribute to today’s eating habits? Maybe. Maybe not. It’s all very interesting and I will eventually understand it more in the future.

Oh, and I chose the title because I can’t stand the taste of cooked peas. Nasty squishy bastards.

With my food issue typically being backwards from the typical food issues, does anyone else find eating to be such a burden or am I alone on this one? Any thoughts would be appreciated.