The past four months have been four months of upheaval, turmoil, adventure and discovery. I'm in my new home. My son is in his new home. Penny, a dog of such sensitive perception, shares both homes.
A new life has begun for my son, for Penny the lovable Jack Russell and myself. I, a man coping and challenging every aspect of my low esteem caused by past environmental trauma.
Yes, the past four months brought on a deeply intense bout of depression. The "inner critic" screamed, tormented me to the point I could barely sleep, barely eat. I was sinking fast. How was I going to cope? Would my son cope with his new responsibilities? Would Penny be able to adjust? Questions, concerns, whirled and whirled in my frazzled mind. Something had to change. It was time to battle against the inner critic. I cannot give my depression permission to sabotage my right to a peaceful, hopeful life.
I learn from that past and embrace the now. A new sense of excitement, of realistic, positive anticipation that all will be just fine. The inner critic has been replaced by the loving return of my "inner child." An inquisitive child that sees the good in perceived bad moments.
The powerful revelations that lay within the four months of perplexity quashed the incessant chatter of the inner critic. My upbeat attitude is returning with a sense of defiant triumph.
When my son lived with me, I hardly saw him. Just a fleeting glimpse down the hallway as he headed to his bedroom. I'd get the occasional grunt of acknowledgement from my son. On a good day I'd get two grunts. My son, Tristan, an angry, frustrated young man. A young man craving independence and feeling trapped. An angry, frustrated young man who would vent his seething rage directly at me.
That was then. This is now. My son is coping remarkably well as he sets out on his new life. Of course, he gets incensed over the bureaucratic incompetence that transforms what should be simple situations into a surreal complexity. I'm sure you know what I mean.
Tristan has started listening to my advice. I like to think he listens to all my advice, okay, most of my advice, some of my advice, just a tiny bit of my advice. Even a minuscule fraction of taking on board my advice is a great deal more than he used to pay heed to. Now that he is paying his own way, you bet he listens to me in regards to saving money, to paying the correct amount on his taxes.
The anger my son has felt has dissipated. The communication between the two of us has gone through a magical metamorphosis.
In fact, I'm seeing more of my son now than when we used to live together. The common denominator is communication, cooperation, love. And who is behind this new understanding of love I share with my son? Take a bow wow, Penny the Jack Russell dog and modest internet superstar! Penny knew that she needed to see both of us together, all three of us together, as much as possible. Penny, loving Penny, has taught my son and I valuable lessons. Lessons that the purity of a dog's unconditional, non-judgemental love, is the bond that grows, that glows with the symbolic beacon of hope for the future.
A magical metamorphosis.