Step Aside

I had to get my previous post out of the way so I can start talking about the fun stuff and the fundamentals. I have been in every kind of therapy since my late twenties. I started at a place called Pyramid. It helped to address the first issues I faced as a youngster. Pre-Motherhood. Pyramid is where I learned my skills that I still utilize everyday. Dialectical Behavioral Therapy or DBT. 

That's what works for me. 

The word 'dialectic' means to balance AND compare two things that are different or maybe even contradictory.

One of the skills they teach in DBT is radical acceptance. I don't want to negate anything I said yesterday about my son and situation I am in. I had to use radical acceptance to get over some of my anger I felt for the misdiagnosis and constant controlling nature of the home I lived in. Regardless of what happened in the past, I did not react properly for many days leading up to Bobby not feeling safe. 

Radical Acceptance is another skill they teach you in DBT. It is the hardest one I've had to overcome. It means you accept a situation without judgement, without getting angry at it, without trying to change it. 

It tastes like vinegar coming out of my mouth when I talk about taking blame for my situation, but I have to say it to myself over and over again. Radical Acceptance. Accepting something for what it is without emotional whiplash, without judgement.  

 

I will make it back to my son. He matters too much. But what really happened? Well.... it's a long story. Let's talk about it slowly. The life I've lived has been very contradictory itself. All shiny and pretty on the outside and all nitty and gritty on the inside.

 

It's like looking down on the city from Grandview Avenue or seeing it all lit up for the first time when you come out of the Fort Pitt Tunnels. 

 

When you're actually in downtown Pittsburgh, it's not all glittery and sparkly. Most of the corner blocks smell like piss. I've seen people passed out in the gutters on my way to work in the morning. COVID kept all the office buildings closed and abandoned. Everything looks dilapidated and neglected. Many of the tiny, small businesses on Smithfield St. closed up due to lack of income. There are not limousines and Maserati's zooming up and down the streets like you see in Mt. Washington. 

 

Being Downtown, on foot, for the most part, is a drag. That's how I'd describe my life. I always kept smiling and cracking jokes, selling weed and slinging drinks, always dressed cute with some fast shoes on. Up close, though, I was at war. I still am. I'm at war with my family, my mental health, myself. Everyday is a battle. 

 

There's an old saying I rely on, 'We all have two wolves inside of us. It just depends on which one you want to feed.'