ÿþ <html> <head> <title>background of challenges </title> <done from notepad> </head> <body background="Oldpapr3.gif" text="#000000" link="#0000FF" vlink="#6373B5" alink="#FF0000"> <DIV align=center> <NOBREAK><a href="index.htm"><img src="bordrH.jpg" border="0" alt="home page for a little history.com"></a><a href="Mounties.htm"><img src="bordr1.jpg" border="0" alt="1874 The Mounted Police Tame the Wild West"></a><a href="Mt-Intro.htm"><img src="bordr2.jpg" border="0" alt="the Metis half of the 1885 Northwest Rebellion"></a><a href="NativeRb.htm"><img src="bordr3.jpg" border="0" alt="the Native half of the 1885 Northwest Rebellion"></a><a href="Vi-begin.htm"><img src="bordr4.jpg" border="0" alt="1900-05 Diary of a student and young teacher"></a><a href="ViH-bgin.htm"><img src="bordr5.jpg" border="0" alt="1908-1920 homesteading experiences and lifestyle"></a><a href="ZContent.htm"><img src="bordr6.jpg" border="0" alt="1920's farm and community lifestyle"></a><a href="Di-begin.htm"><img src="bordr7.jpg" border="0" alt="1954-56 diary of a boy, before the effects of television"></a><a href="future.htm"><img src="bordr8.jpg" border="0" alt="Life in the Future: (a not too serious look at 2012 and beyond), new developments, dumb choices, extending human limitations through technology."></a></NOBREAK><Br> <font size="1" face="Arial"><a href="index.htm"> alittlehistory.com</a></font> </DIV> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p align=center><font size="6"><b>Background of Challenges <Br> </font><font size="4"> in chronological order.</font></b></p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <center> <table border="1" width="55%" bgcolor="#CCFFCC" cellpadding="15" cellspacing="1"> <tr> <td> <p align=justify><b><font size="3"> Throughout life I have struggled with my career, struggled to find satisfactory paid work. I was determined to do well, and worked hard at all the jobs I tried, but nothing seemed to work out. Strangely enough, while paid work seemed to always be a hassle, I was able to come up with challenging projects that I loved to do. Although I kept working hard in an effort to turn a project into decent paid work, it never happened. </font></b></p> <p align=justify><b><font size="3"> My siblings and others that knew me showed some concern over what they saw as my focus on hobbies at the expense of my career. My explanations were not understood, and not appreciated. This file looks at a number of my projects and then uses the latest scientific research and descriptions that ring true to reveal why decent paid work always eluded me. </font></b></p> </td> </tr> </table> </center> <p>&nbsp;</p> <blockquote> <blockquote> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><font size="5"><b>Model Railway:<Br> </font><font size="4"> completed about 1961 at the age of 17. </b></font></p> <p><font size="3"><b> This is a photo and the layout plan of my 4' X 8' railway. &nbsp; The plan was created by myself: responding to a desire for both mountain scenery and a small town, a pleasing and diverse environment for the trains to run through. </b></font></p> <p align="center"><img src="RRphto53.jpg" width="200" height="135" alt="RRphto53.jpg (5517 bytes)"> &nbsp; . <img src="RR-plan.jpg" width="181" height="94" alt="RR-plan.jpg (7991 bytes)"></p> <p><font size="3"><b> My experience was that much of the process of building <a href="RR-photo.htm" target="_blank">the railway</a> was not really enjoyable, rather it was a way to keep busy. The key motivator was the stimulation of converting a unique dream into something impressive. The dream was a powerful enough motivator so I was able to complete years of often boring and sometimes tedious hard work. </b></font></p> </blockquote> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p align=left><font size="5"><b>This 1977 Poem dreams about the Internet:<Br> </font><font size="4">the poem was purchased in 1977 at the age of 33. <Br> When I read it, I could relate to it, it really impressed me, it hit home.<Br> Up until this point in my career, the variety of jobs <Br> I had tried had all been a struggle. </font></b></p> <blockquote> <blockquote> <p align=center><b> At the top and center of the collage which is below, is a plaque<Br> which I purchased in 1977. It contains the poem<Br> "The Little Things In Life" which states: <blockquote> <blockquote> <blockquote> <blockquote> If any little word of ours</Br> Can make one life the brighter</Br> If any little song of ours</Br> Can make one heart the lighter</Br> God help us speak that little word</Br> And take our bit of singing</Br> And drop it in some lonely vale</Br> And set the echoes ringing </blockquote> </blockquote> </blockquote> </blockquote> </b></p> <p align=left><b> Five years after purchasing the plaque, in an 1982 Art project, I placed it in a key location at the top of the collage (pictured below). So, it isn't surprising that 15 years after that, when I found that websites can deliver a message 24 hours a day to anyone interested, I saw them as an irresistible tool. Now my files keep doing my work, keep delivering a worthwhile message, even while I'm sleeping. They are like an echo, only better. With the file "Life In The Future," the message keeps reaching more people, and to my surprise, it now reaches a lot of people in China and India. That's a pretty good echo. </b></p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p align=left><font size="5"><b>Collage:<Br> </font><font size="4"> created in 1982 at the age of 38. </font></b></p> <p align=center><font size="3"> <img src="colag-38.jpg" alt="collage made for 1982 art class - 69 kb"></font></p> <p align=left><b> This collage, an Art course project, contains many of the little things I had collected during my life, up until I returned to school at 37 years of age. It represents who I was at that time. It has two flaps on the side that can be opened or closed, so this artistic piece of work is a concrete representation that revealed who I was at that time. </b></p> <p align=left><b> This creative challenge and the various skills it required have similarities to the stories I wrote, to the building of a website, to putting together the more complex videos, and surprising similarities to this little project I did when I was ten years old. In response to a 1954 radio news story, I created <a href="Di-comic.htm" target="_blank">a six frame comic</a> about the death of a junk dealer's horse. </b></p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p align=left><font size="5"><b>Booklet of Family History:<Br> </font><font size="4"> created in 1983 at 39 years of age.</font></b></p> <p align=center><font size="3"> <img src="Zbooklet.jpg" alt="booket of family history with illustrations - 72 kb"></font></p> <p align=left><b> Soon after I started on this booklet, it seemed to have a life of its own. After taking notes while my uncles and aunts talked about the past, I realized that it all went together into an interesting story. I felt that every family should have a record of the daily lives of their ancestors. Soon I was finding more interesting information to add, creating drawings and a map, and then getting 1000 colored pages photocopied and made into priceless booklets. It was a neat little package that gave me a lot of satisfaction, that resulted in something really attractive, concrete, and valuable. The booklet wasn't done to brag, it was done because of the challenge. </b></p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p align="center"><img src="workhst4.gif" width="150" height="115" alt="gif 5kb - hard at work on history"><Br> <strong><font size="3"> In 1995, I graduated from the typewriter<Br> to the computer. </strong></font></p> <p align=left><font size="5"><b>Web site:<Br> </font><font size="4"> created in 1997 at 53 years of age.</font></b></p> <p align=left><font size="3"><b><a href="WebNov97.htm" target="_blank">My first website</a> was posted November 7, 1997. Then, additions were made<Br> and <a href="WebDec97.htm" target="_blank">a revised website</a> was posted on December 18, 1997.</b></font></p> <p align=left><font size="3"><b>This first website reveals my values. It contains my judgment of what I could find in 1997 at 53 years of age that was suitable for posting. Four years before, in 1993 I had completed a factual story on <a href="Mt-Intro.htm" target="_blank">the Metis</a> half of the 1885 Rebellion, and it had received serious consideration from publishers. Before that I had created <a href="http://www.westerntour.com/Drum/story" target="_blank">3 childrens stories</a> about a dinosaur and I thought they would be published until the next reply told me, "We're up to our ears in dinosaurs." Writing was my best effort to make extra money and build self esteem at a time in my life when I was struggling to do paid work. In 2000, when planning a major website, I chose the best combination of everything I had. A unified package was built out of my files on lifestyles, history, and innovative ideas for the future. These files gave rise to the domain name: alittlehistory.com. </b></font></p> <p align=left><font size="3"><b>My efforts to create a website were designed to develop modern skills, and to create an easy to access work sample. (While I thought it was a big step in the right direction, my family saw it as just one more worthless project.) I was tired of taking course work which didn't produce a job, so while I was dealing with emotional issues, creating this website was a productive way to gain important skills, and to take a big step closer to finding a decent job that I could handle and that would make use of my continually improving skill set. </b></font></p> <p align=left><font size="3"><b> At first, the file "Life In The Future" didn't seem important. I lacked interest and didn't feel qualified. But over the years, as I kept working on it, it became more interesting and the hit rate kept increasing. Now I can guess that it might be more important than anything else I have done in my life. </b></font></p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p align=center><font size="6"><b>Career Choice</font></b></p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p align=center><font size="5"><b> Why not choose to excel at a career</font></b></p> <p align=center><font size="5"><b>instead of doing all of those projects? </font></b></p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <blockquote> <blockquote> <blockquote> <p align=left><font size="3"><b>Many people, including myself sense that I have lots of talent. Throughout my career I have worked long and hard in an effort to get into a job in which I could do well, so I could take on an adult role and have a family. But in spite of doing well in the projects that are in this file, and even though I attempted University three times, and even after taking night school courses, and even after doing projects directly related to my paid work, I was not able to land a suitable job. </b></font></p> </blockquote> </blockquote> </blockquote> <p align=left><font size="3"><b><UL type="A"> <li><a href="#career">My efforts to build a career after High School</a> <li><a href="#return">Returning to school</a> <li><a href="#after">Life after too much failure</a> <li><a href="#why">Why was I struggling</a>? <li><a href="#sym">My Physical Symptoms</a> <li><a href="#proof">MRI's prove that proper treatment reverses the physical damage of PTSD</a> <li><a href="#proper">Attempting to get proper treatment for my PTSD</a> <li><a href="#nodrug">Reasons for not trying drugs again</a> <li><a href="#best">My parents did their best</a> <li><a href="#real">More details which prove that my childhood experiences were real</a> <li><a href="#cons">The consequences of delays</a> <li><a href="#submit">Submission Proves My Life Was Full of Learning and Work Struggles</a> <li><a href="#just">Justification For This Posting</a> </UL> </b></font></p> <a name="career"> <p>&nbsp;</p> <blockquote> <blockquote> <p align=left><font size="4"><b><U>My efforts to build a career after High School</U>:<Br> </font><font size="2">After High School, when I couldn't find a job, I tried University, and actually attempted to adjust twice. But both times, mainly due to tension and learning blocks, I couldn't cope with the work load. All the jobs I tried in this period of my life were a struggle. On the job, I repeatedly ran into blocks, excessive tension, and burn out due to weaknesses and poor coping skills. Jumping from job to job was not an option, because job searches were always long and difficult. When jobs brought on such a struggle, I couldn't be the eager and enthusiastic type that managers prefer to hire. So I would stay with a job until I became sick and tired of that type of work, or I was convinced I had hit a dead end. As a result, as I gained experience, instead of getting better and developing more choices, things were getting worse. </b></font></p> <p align=left><font size="2"><b>When I sensed I had hit another dead end in 1979, I spent a big chunk of money to write 2 days of tests, then have a Psychologist do a personal interview and a written analysis of my abilities and interests. He found that there were no workable career choices. While I had strong assets, there were also strong negatives which nullified the worth of my assets. So I was back to square one, and still unemployed. One way of broadening my interests and hopefully opening new doors was to return to school. </b></font></p> <a name="return"> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p align=left><font size="4"><b><U>Returning to school</U>:<Br> </font><font size="2">In 1980, after again struggling to find work, I gambled by returning to school in the hope that I could overcome a few weaknesses as I trained to become an Elementary School teacher. In my spare time, I had developed leadership skills and was excited by some of the things I was able to do. I had noticed that my depression and learning difficulties became less when I was working hard at a high interest task, so my hope was that my high interest in teaching would help me overcome some of my weaknesses. This time, I was able to handle a carefully selected course schedule, and I did get good marks in most class presentations, however I couldn't cope with student teaching. Instead of responding in a positive way to the stimulating challenge, my mind was shutting down due to tension and the heavy work load. My mind wasn't clear so I struggled to learn and recall, and struggled to relate and cope. A few years later, I tested myself in a daycare, and was further convinced that my mind was not capable of doing a consistently good job in any type of teaching position. </b></font></p> <a name="after"> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p align=left><font size="4"><b><U>Life after too much failure</U>:<Br> </font><font size="2">It took time to get focused on another career, but I kept working. Some work added to my skill set, and some were work related projects which I added to a thick portfolio. Promotions eluded me until in 1995, when I submitted my portfolio to the supervisors and management. They not only gave me a major promotion, but when I struggled, I was given lots of time to adjust. However, this time, my tendency to self destruct was more evident, and the emotions from past work struggles were getting in the way. I avoided talking to the new people there because I knew my mind would not absorb anything of our conversation. The next day would be embarrassing, I wouldn't recall anything about them, not even their name. This is not how you make friends or acquaintances. So even after getting time off and months to adapt, I still couldn't cope.<Br> [At times, this had happened at University. After a lecture, I could completely blank out the content. I would recall the Prof and the subject, but nothing of the topics covered or anything else that happened during the lecture. When I checked my notes, they wouldn't jog my mind, and even after relaxing, I still couldn't recall anything that was said.] </b></font></p> <p align=left><font size="2"><b>A few years later, after more job related submissions, that same company gave me another chance by putting me into a low pressure situation as a minor supervisor. But although I had years of experience doing this, and I was dealing with people and routines I was familiar with, I didn't have the emotional strength needed to cope, so I went back to working on the phones. At the time, I still believed that drugs did not offer a quick solution, that they would not overcome PTSD or change my learning problems. My siblings are quick with action, and slow with thinking, knowledge, and understanding. So now I faced a new roadblock as I struggled to deal with their misunderstandings and criticism. They were my foundation, so they had an impact. Later, as I gained strength, I looked seriously at a potential management position and other full time jobs. But I could see from major struggles in my personal life that I couldn't handle them. I got so I could recognize when a new job would be a struggle, would be like banging my head against a brick wall. So near the end I avoided more disasters. I felt extremely lucky to have part time routine call centre work to hang onto and happy that I was able to keep my burnout symptoms under control. </b></font></p> <a name="why"> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p align=left><font size="4"><b><U>Why was I struggling</U>?<Br> </font><font size="2"> Most people don't know that I was living with symptoms from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD): memory and attention problems, anxiety, depression, insomnia, fears, and shame. The struggles with these symptoms made jobs frustrating and irritating. As I grew up I did learn to adapt, and during the two years of University in which I flunked, I took counselling so I was learning to cope and some symptoms diminished. But one of my problems created a long term road block. Whenever I was in a crucial position so I had a chance of landing decent work which would allow me to provide for a family and live a decent life in the adult world, I would withdraw, struggle, and self destruct. </b></font></p> <a name="sym"> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p align=left><font size="4"><b><U>My Physical Symptoms</U>:<Br> </font><font size="3"> [These are important, because most people tend to discount the power of emotional weaknesses.] </font><font size="2"> I responded to a big step in my career with extreme tension: my rib cage gradually froze like a vice, restricting my breathing; so as the tension increased, my ability to think clearly decreased (the emotion was overwhelming because it felt like the situation was overwhelming, so IF a relaxation technique, worked it only worked during the time it was applied; it wouldn't remove the tension I was overwhelmed with). Also, as an Introvert, I was a poor fit for an introverted job. It was necessary to constantly force myself to concentrate, to focus on the work and the details, a constant struggle that included a strong fear of losing my job. If I lost my job, who would want to hire me when I was slow to learn, quick to forget, tend to be withdrawn, and obviously undergoing a constant struggle which was gradually creating health problems. Also, through most of the work day, my stomach area was extremely tense. This extreme tension trained at least one muscle in my gut to cut off digestion. As a result, I couldn't lay down and relax. This turned my efforts to sleep into a major struggle, and with time bloating added serious complications. All of this prevented quality sleep, and so my ability to think, remember, and learn became even worse. Many people don't appreciate my excuses because they can carry on when they get tired. But when I was too tired, I was incompetent on a thinking job; and with physical work, I could be awkward and dangerous. </b></font></p> <p align=left><font size="2"><b>These symptoms aren't easy to control or cure, especially when the fear of being fired is real over a long period of time. In this period of my life, work tension was often relentless, staying with me even after a week on holidays, and even at the end of a night of drinking in a bar. Eventually I gave up on alcohol. The prescription drugs I tried in the 1970's didn't help. Some put me to sleep while I was working. That generation of anti-depressant drugs didn't seem to help, although I could sense they were strong, like poison. Eventually I became skeptical of the worth of all drugs. Instead, I learned to get a joggers high from walking, so walking became my drug of choice. In the 1990's inline skating was thrilling, healthy medicine. These activities not only lifted my spirits, but they helped make me healthy instead of sickly. </b></font></p> <p align=left><font size="2"><b> Some who knew me didn't see what was under the surface, so in order to prove the truthfulness of what is here, I offer a few more verifiable examples. In the 1970's, I was involved in a relationship for about two years. So my girl friend's judgment should hold some weight. A few years after we broke up, she returned to tell me that many of the symptoms I had displayed when we were together fit those of someone with hypoglycemia. So after getting blood test results which suggested mild hypoglycemia, I went on a special diet. It helped a little so I stayed on it for about 5 years. </b></font></p> <p align=left><font size="2"><b>At the other extreme, others who know of my volunteer leadership experiences would deny the validity of my childhood memories and claim that I never was shy. But a number of times my father told this anecdote, of how a new neighbor who must have been 3 1/2 to 5 years old ran to him one day to tell him the news: that Brian could talk. That boy was one year younger than myself, so I was still making strange, being shy sometime after I was 4 1/2 years of age. Also, in a speech my mother made at her Anniversary (that I have a recording of), she briefly described my life as a child. She stated: "Brian, he was quiet, he played quiet, you hardly knew he was around in the room." </b></font></p> <a name="proof"> <p>&nbsp;</p> </blockquote> </blockquote> </blockquote> </blockquote> <p align=center><font size="4"><b><U>MRI's prove that proper treatment reverses the physical damage of PTSD</U>:</b></font></p> <p align=center><font size="3"><b> (These 2009 MRI results validate what I had experienced and what I believed I needed.)</b></font></p> <blockquote> <blockquote> <blockquote> <blockquote> <p align=left><font size="3"><b>On Tuesday Nov. 10, 2009, the Associated Press gave a news report on PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder) in which they stated that an MRI could detect bigger gaps in nerve fibers of those suffering from PTSD. They found that those gaps were healed not with drugs, but with proper PTSD treatment in which the victim changed how they thought about their trauma. (The examples of the cause of trauma included child abuse.) So this report confirmed my experiences with successful treatment, and my repeated insistence that I again be given proper PTSD treatment. Also, more recently I found <a href="http://www.lestweforgetptsdsupport.org/default.html" target="_blank">this website</a> from West Virginia, USA, which offers some excellent advice about treatments to take to recover from PTSD, and it suggests the realistic role that drugs can play. </b></font></p> <a name="proper"> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p align=left><font size="4"><b><U>Attempting to get proper treatment for my PTSD</U>:<Br> </font><font size="2">In 1992, I repeatedly insisted on PTSD treatment (more of the treatment I had received 12 years earlier and found to be successful) and couldn't get it. Two counsellors insisted on ignoring my requests. I insisted that the advice and treatments I had gotten from previous counsellors had been effective, and insisted that I still had serious symptoms which had not gone away when I had ignored them. At that point, shame cut my ability to function down to about 30 to 50% every two or three days. When this was combined with my other learning/attention/memory/sleep problems, my tendency to stay removed from people, and to feel inferior, to remain tense, I found my ability to function unacceptable. I did cooperate with the treatment I was given at that time, but it proved to be ineffective. In their defense, I realize that most clients have complex toxic backgrounds, so treating them for childhood PTSD is difficult. But I did explain that I had a small number of trauma experiences, a stable childhood, and a mostly non-toxic mother which made my needs simpler. At this time Calgary counselling organizations were into "Brief Counselling" [which meant they saved money, but it also meant they had an excuse to simply let all those who needed the more difficult treatments take drugs.]. Five years later, in 1997 I dealt with counsellors in a different organization. They also insisted on using their personal preferences, to keep things simple and positive. The third counsellor I got was the senior counsellor. She insisted on only looking at the positive; so it didn't matter what my problems were, she insisted on using only one method. Her methods were the opposite to PTSD treatment, so our sessions were a struggle and not very helpful. </b></font></p> <p align=left><font size="2"><b> For about a decade, most of the treatment I received and the progress I made was done with the help of the patient people in support groups. By about 2000 (when I was finally able to get more decent therapy), it isn't surprising that my family had lost patience with me, and (as I explain near the bottom) they became disruptive and so prevented further progress. </b></font></p> <a name="nodrug"> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p align=left><font size="4"><b><U>Reasons for not trying drugs again</U>:<Br> </font><font size="2"> I was convinced that drugs would not be an instant solution. They would only have a small impact on my learning blocks and I didn't want to spend the rest of my life operating at 50%. Drugs wouldn't eliminate the various symptoms I suffered from due to childhood trauma (eg. serious learning/memory/attention problems, and strong buried numbing shame caused by each hair wash, so every third day I tended to feel like a zombie, and feelings of being unimportant and unlovable). I was skeptical of the worth of drugs so the placebo effect would not work for me, and I suspected they were not good for me. Later, it did not surprise me to find that the drugs had a lot of side effects that were not public knowledge in 2001. They would have increased my bone density problems, plus they can cause weight gain, lethargy, and loss of sex drive). At that time, I had one person get upset because one example had proven to him that antidepressants were 100% effective, with no side effects. It is frustrating when people want to believe there are simple solutions and assume they are sane so they must be right. My preference was to remove my depressed feelings through walking and inline skating. Instead of suffering side effects, I got the benefits of exercise. In 2009, research with MRI's showed that proper treatment for PTSD eliminated the problems. Although drugs helped modify symptoms, they didn't solve the problem. So, I was on the right track. </b></font></p> <a name="best"> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p align=left><font size="4"><b><U>My parents did their best</U>:<Br> </font><font size="2"> It is important that people know that I believe my parents had good intentions. My memories of abuse tell me that they did their best to find the best solutions. However, when I was very young, due to bad planning, they got into a tough situation when they began to start a business. At this time, after hitting a road block, Dad was temporarily overwhelmed by the high pressure situation. In 1984, a Sociology course taught me that a human being simply cannot stand the pressure of many demands. He was trying to be a father of 2 young boys, looking after a wife, starting a new business, and providing for his needy family. For the most part this was happening in the two rooms we lived in, 24 hours a day. But after that struggle, they did get the business going, and like most other businesses of that time it became successful, and so they were able to provide well for our family. </b></font></p> <p align=left><font size="2"><b> At the time of their struggle, I vaguely recall my father bent over in agony, he couldn't cope with it all, and noisy children were part of the problem. So I recall Mom and Dad talking and deciding they had to spank both of us long and hard, to give us the message that we had to keep out of the way and keep quiet. If we were quiet, it would be one less stressor for Dad to deal with. In 1946 they didn't have a psychology book or a professional to consult, so their strategy had to be their best guess. They probably assumed that our behavior would be modified for a short time, that a few weeks later we would forget. Unfortunately the spankings were a traumatic experience for me, so they became a problem for most of my life. In those days, they probably knew nothing about buried feelings; if a child was shy, a child was shy. Even today's counsellors struggle with the idea that buried childhood feelings can cause problems later in life; this concept runs contrary to a popular method of treatment. </b></font></p> <a name="real"> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p align=left><font size="4"><b><U>More details which prove that my childhood experiences were real</U>:<Br> </font><font size="2"> But as a two year old, my response to the unfair spanking was a powerful fear. I got the message, it came through strong and clear that I had to keep out of the way and keep quiet. This is a difficult task for a young child, but the strong fear helped me keep my behavior under control. I not only feared expressing my emotions when my parents were around, but I stayed fearful throughout the day, so my feelings never were acted out through free play. Both my feelings and my ability to control my emotions were internalized, and became a long term behavior pattern. Both my parents became busy with the new business, so there was a major change in my degree of attachment. In the following years 2 or 3 times, my father lost his temper and appeared to be out of control as he spanked my brother. This was a frightening experience for me, a stern reminder that life as a child was a serious business. </b></font></p> <p align=left><font size="2"><b> Play prepares a child for life. As a fearful child, I experienced limited play; and grew up painfully shy, with poor coping skills. As I got older I got better, but was still hampered with an internalized reaction: a tendency to withdraw, to fear people, to fear adult roles and adult work, to feel worthless, to remain tense, and to struggle to sleep (which added to my learning problems). </b></font></p> <p align=left><font size="2"><b> In my recovery, as an adult, I was aware of faint memories of the spanking I received when my parents were struggling to start a business, and had a sense that that could be why I simply could not cope whenever my career reached a crucial time. I eventually felt strong enough to tune into my 2 year old feelings and memories. Initially, I sensed the agony and fear my father had gone through when he was paralyzed by the situation. This stayed with me, so when I was an adult facing a crucial time in my career, when the pressure was on, I was also emotionally paralyzed, it became a struggle to function: to think and remember. After the spankings, there was no one to turn to. I was afraid to go back to my busy parents, so my attachments were broken. This also developed into a fear of relationships (something that has helped keep me single), because when an attachment was broken as an adult it seemed that I felt twice as much pain, probably because it triggered my buried childhood feelings of the painful break. As a child, when I withdrew and struggled to cope with the world on my own, the experience was a huge burden. </b></font></p> <p align=left><font size="2"><b> So my tendency to withdraw and control my emotions became automatic, and I became a fearful and shy child. In recovery I eventually learned how to not fear adults and to overcome my tendency to be shy. But, recently I discovered that my childhood tendency to keep quiet and keep out of the way was still an habitual withdrawal tendency which made it hard to join and adapt to a group. For many social situations, I tended to be tense and fearful instead of open and friendly. Also, I am just now getting over a fear of attachments. Obviously, I'm no longer a desperate 2 year old, but I still prefer the safety of being alone. The tension from the abuse and the tendency to withdraw remained buried within me. Also, my father's projects dominated our family at that time, so maybe it was natural for me to adjust by appreciating what he accomplished. What he did was obviously number 1, so in my real world, how I felt and my self worth was secondary, I was not important, and had lost the sense that I was loveable. Maybe I found comfort in thinking that my father's many accomplishments were impressive, his projects were what really counted in life. I still recall feeling proud of the impressive new stairs he built, stairs I could play on and jump from. So my weaknesses, my memories and my recovery all fit together and prove to me that the experiences I have described were real. The limits the abuse put on my behavior did not change until I dealt with the buried childhood emotions in PTSD treatment. </b></font></p> <p align=left><font size="2"><b> Although my mother made a few honest mistakes, in many ways the stable family life I experienced was far superior to what others experience. I was a sensitive, fearful child, so I needed my family to provide a stable foundation. It was only due to our stable and non-toxic family that I was able to gain confidence, get rid of some of my shyness, and live a fairly normal life as I grew up. I will always be grateful that at that time I was surrounded by decent friends and family. It is interesting to add that as an adult it was relatively easy for me to get over my anger and forgive my parents for coping badly when they started their business. I could understand because whenever I faced an important career challenge, I also struggled in a major way. Plus, they were able to do well in the adult world and accomplished a lot; they did things that I couldn't do. </b></font></p> <a name="cons"> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p align=left><font size="4"><b><U>The consequences of delays</U>:<Br> </font><font size="2"> Although some treatment was successful, during the 1990's I couldn't find a counsellor who would continue the PTSD treatment I needed. Support groups and group therapy allowed me to work on issues on my own so I was once again getting on top of life. In the year 2000, Calgary finally got some counsellors that were properly qualified and trained doctors who could provide drugs if needed. </b></font></p> <p align=left><font size="2"><b> Unfortunately by 2001, my family had run out of patience. After my job was eliminated and I wasn't able to step into a new job, my siblings were not in the listening mode. Maybe the reader can sympathize with their probable view of things. My siblings may have thought I was being a bad role model for my nieces and nephews who could easily access my latest work on their computers. I could see them guessing that my greatly expanded website was just another hobby, and failing to recognize it as an impressive work sample.) The Internet did create a dramatic change in our family dynamics: so although I was a remote figure 200 km away, my work activities were easy to access right in their home. Unfortunately, the communication in our family was poor, so this is only speculation based on hindsight. </b></font></p> <p align=left><font size="2"><b> My siblings were upset because they felt that I should be landing decent paid work. They didn't believe the skills and experience I was gaining were worth anything. While I was struggling with unemployment, at 57 years of age, I was improving on my writing/marketing/computer/Internet skills as I aimed to become a web site developer (Eventually, I did make some money running one website, and began making submissions in an effort to start a business). But my siblings had lost patience with my emotional struggles. Although I told my father about the doctors I was seeing and that two of them had offered to put me on unemployment insurance sick leave, my siblings were unresponsive. They wanted action, so Dad and my siblings became critical. Dad did his best to understand and was quite reasonable, but he was caught in the middle of all this garbage. When my siblings all felt the same, how could they all be wrong? </b></font></p> <p align=left><font size="2"><b> There are many reasons why, for me, finding work had become an enormous struggle. One problem was to deal with painful reminders of my many job struggles. Some of those reminders had to be on my resume, and somehow they had to be talked about in a positive way. The pressure to find a job was huge, so when my family added more pressure, it made things far worse. No doubt my therapist was frustrated with what was happening to me. The only solution I could find was to move away from my toxic family, three hours north to Edmonton where I was soon able to land another call centre job. Two years later, my efforts to fix things got little response from my siblings. So I lost my foundation. The craziness in our family took away the strength I needed to find better work. In 2006 I tried again to regain some sanity in my relationship with my family. It had finally dawned on me that my files were not only full of examples of my weaknesses, but there were a few key items that provided proof of the kinds of experiences I had lived through. </b></font></p> <a name="submit"> <p>&nbsp;</p> </blockquote> <p align=left><font size="4"><b><U>Submission Proves My Life Was<Br> Full of Learning and Work Struggles</U>:<Br> </font><font size="3">In 2006 I copied about 25 pages of work samples <Br> from my files and submitted them to my father and siblings.<Br> They were proof: I am who I say I am. The decisions I had made were logical. </font></b></p> <p align=center><font size="3"> <img src="factdocs.jpg" alt="saved documents I copied then used to prove I really had struggled to learn and work - 143 kb"></font></p> <blockquote> <blockquote> <p align=center><font size="2"><b>After finding samples of work and learning struggles, I printed and pasted notes onto them so my experiences became easy to understand. Then, I submitted the documents for my father and siblings to read. The truth was obvious. </b></font></p> </blockquote> </blockquote> <p align=left><font size="2"><b> It doesn't make sense: how could I take night school courses and two correspondence courses and still be lazy? Another important piece of evidence was found in the critical notes a Prof wrote on my essay in 1965. After giving a poor mark on a key essay that I had put a ton of extra work into, he wrote: "It is particularly weak as I judge presentation at the university level. Doubtless you have worked hard." Another memorable struggle came in English. After 6 months of hard work my final mark was 19%, and this included the marks I built up on the 4 or 5 essays I wrote. My calculation is she gave me zero for the final exam. This makes sense because I wasn't able to get hardly anything to stick in my mind that year. I spent a lot of time forcing my mind to memorizing things, and most of her lectures were completely forgotten. So on the final, I could only come up with bits of vague statements. Also, I still have my 1982 to 1984 student teaching log books in which qualified professionals make insightful comments about my limitations. </b></font></p> <blockquote> <p align=left><font size="2"><b>But my siblings still lacked interest in my struggle. After a lifetime of struggling with learning, failures, and criticism, the last thing I needed was irrational criticism from the people who I thought knew me best. So the long term pressure that came from our family hassles prevented me from fully facing key traumatic memories and making emotional adjustments which would have given me a chance to land a good, decent job and to finally lead a decent life. (It is necessary for the victim to feel relatively strong before it is possible to face disturbing buried childhood emotions.) The solutions, the agonizing feelings that were buried when my parents were struggling to start a business, weren't uncovered until fairly recently, after I became semi-retired. </b></font></p> <a name="just"> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p align=left><font size="4"><b><U>Justification For This Posting</U>:<Br> </font><font size="3"> So the question becomes, am I qualified to create a file on "Life in the Future?" That's your job, to evaluate and judge. While I don't have a publisher that has evaluated the worth of my work and brought it up to their standard, I also don't have the restrictions that a publisher brings: that my work be marketable, be popular, and fit into the establishment. Although you may complain about being subjected to personal negative garbage, you are being rewarded with unfiltered insights into my personal life, insights that give you a clearer impression of what is real in the real world. Most troubled people find ways to hide information about their mental state, to preserve their reputation and maintain respect. The truth about life is hard to find. What is presented here is unique. It is a carefully presented version of factual personal experiences which reveal the nature of child abuse, of memories, the recovery process, the ways people choose to cope, and the kind of impact it can have on a life and family. It is an honest attempt to talk about what is real.</b></font></p> <p align=left><font size="4"><b>This is a good time to reflect and evaluate the worth of what's here, and what's elsewhere on the Internet. </b></font></p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> </blockquote> </blockquote> </blockquote> </blockquote> <Div align="Left"><font color="#000000"><strong>Questions?  Suggestions? Comments.</Div> <Div><b> &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; <a href="contact.htm" target="_blank">Contact the author</a>.</b></Div> <Hr> <center> <p align=center><font size=1>Posted since May 31, 2005.<Br> Modified and linked to "Life In The Future" on May 1, 2010.<Br> <Div align=center> <!-- Start Bravenet.com Service Code --> <script language="JavaScript" type="text/javascript" src="http://pub44.bravenet.com/counter/code.php?id=342937&usernum=3741669051&cpv=2"></script> <!-- End Bravenet.com Service Code --> </Div> </center> </CENTER> <p>&nbsp;</p> </body> </html>