How to Heal Trauma at 17

I judged myself fairly harshly throughout that whole agonizing loss of the Lovejoy. Everything I was experiencing emotionally was completely out of line with concepts of masculinity- toughness, indifference, handling emotions with strength, confidence, walking away from the explosion- I simply felt defeated and that I would not make the transition to manhood. I think sexual/affectional trauma at the time of life when one is supposed to be initiated into adulthood has special aspects, and it would be interesting to read more about that and understand it.

Real men walk away from explosions and do not even look back. Or...real mutants do. 

Left with no resources, no one to talk with, and no perspective or life experience of my own, I was in serious danger. It interests me that I totally avoided drugs and alcohol during this nightmare period. I was terrified, I guess. Scared straight. It was a strange time of having everything in my life be exactly what I did not want to be happening. And I rode it out for a while- I turned to nothing at all except solitude and writing and music. This stretch was only about three months, and I attribute it to being in shock. Many days after school I isolated in my room- the smallest room in the house of my childhood- and wrote. Some nights I wrote until 3 or 4 in the morning. I tried to miss as much school as possible. I missed 80 days of my senior year- the state maximum to miss and not have to repeat the year. I had been counting. The attendance system must have sucked at my high school because there were never any consequences. There were still some copses and small woods near my house back then (all condos now) and I would spend autumn days there. There were a few days I slept on the ground for a few hours, having not slept at all the night before. 

In isolation, I started writing for hours and hours. I had a great old typewriter. Or I wrote by hand. I started a set of short stories in third person omniscient combined with stream of consciousness internal monologues, each one with a single character, each character roughly 16-20 years old, each one completely unable to make the transition to adulthood in one way or the other. In spite of the heavy influence of Joyce (many of the days I skipped school, I was reading Ulysses), the stories are postmodern. Gen X, more than Boomer. I'm proud to say. Because the characters are all completely lost even when they are on their way- in each sketch, the character is going somewhere but not getting anywhere, except for the sketch about a kid stuck at home whose girlfriend has dumped him. He wasn't going anywhere at all. 

I've kept or carried with me all of the writing I did from age 17 on. This old binder is from September 1978 to September 1980. 

I also spent a lot of time teaching myself Scots Gaelic, becoming more and more interested in jazz post 1960, reading plays. I have no memory of fantasizing about suicide. It seems like it didn't even occur to me. I find that interesting also. Below, a couple pages of one of the character sketches.

The first two pages of one of the character sketches I wrote when I was 17, the most autobiographical- "Mark," lying in bed, thinking about "Gail," on the night of his birthday, anticipating that she is going to call and fearing what she'll say. Mark Callum: my clever postmodern name, with Mark meaning related to Mars and war, and Callum the Scots Gaelic for dove, peace- a divided soul. Gail: in my mind, short for Abigail, Hebrew meaning: gives joy, or even more sardonically- my father rejoices, "joy of my father," and I was sarcastically linking that to "the sins of the father." . But double meaning with, of course, the tribe from which the Irish are descended.  

I usually titled these by the character's first name, but this one originally was called Yod. I was already studying astrology at this time and the idea of the yod aspect in one's chart fascinated me: 

"Astrology explains that raised or multi-aspected planets within the Yod can produce unusual situations and personalities, and should therefore be carefully examined. One possible approach is for an individual to view the yod as an exchange of positive forces around a mediating middle (though oppositional) planet. The quincunxed planet will act as a conduit of energy, or as a profound and deeply felt block. This aspect can produce a heightened direction of energy in the chart which may also oscillate between bifurcated states or situated personalities. A planetary opposition to the quincunxed planet of the Yod can be malefic, or can produce situations of dramatic reversal.

The midpoint of the sextile is a very sensitive point in the chart, as transiting planets, when conjunct with this midpoint, will then be in opposition to the quincunxed planet. This situation is said to trigger major events, thus revealing the true power of the Yod. Multiple sextiles and trines involving Yod planets can be extremely beneficial and thus spread the energy of this aspect in one side of the chart or produce a focal point for intense energies on the other side of the chart. Hence, the yod is the most difficult natal chart aspect to interpret and requires a great aptitude in astrological interpretation to divine accurately." (Wiki)

I also was interested in the arcane symbolism attributed to the Hebrew alphabet by the Kabbalists, where the letter yod is seen as being the "finger of God," that is, ineluctable fate. It also has significance in freemasonry. which I was also reading about at the time. "The yod in Jehovah is one of those things which eye hath not seen, but which has been concealed from all mankind. Its essence and matter are incomprehensible ; it is not lawful so much as to meditate upon it.

Man may lawfully revolve his thoughts from one end of the heavens to the other, but he cannot approach that inaccessible light, that primitive existence, contained in the letter Yod and indeed the masters call the letter thought or idea, and prescribe no bounds to its efficacy. It was this letter which, flowing from the primitive light, gave being to emanations. It wearied itself by the way, but assumed a new vigor by the sense of the letter t which makes the second letter of the Ineffable Name." (Mackey's Encyclopedia of Freemasonry). 

I had not yet encountered the works of Carl Jung, but as soon as I did (not long after this, thanks universe), I realized that the way I had been responding to the rupture in the universe and in my soul had been that unconscious contents of my psyche were emerging. In a Jungian framework, these numinous and oneiric contents are a way for the psyche to try to get back to balance, to incorporate incomprehensible trauma and paradox. My interest in astrology, I Ching, tarot, poetry and connection with the woods near my house were all part of that, and the underlying energy behind my writing was archetypal- the symbolism I was incorporating was inspired by the multivalent weirdness of Joyce's style of metaphor and double or triple meaning, but the energy to do it was not entirely imitative, but rather, driven by the shadow. The appeal of stream of consciousness narrative connected with that as well, as an echo of unconscious contents breaking through the daylight world of narrative. 

A bright spot from this weird and painful time was going to see Weather Report at the Astor Theater on October 29th, with my friend AJ. AJ was the girlfriend of a pal of mine, and he didn't want to go to the concert. AJ had never heard of Weather Report, but they had been musical heroes of mine for a few years- at least since about 1975. This was the configuration with Peter Erskine and Jaco- in fact, the below video was shot by Peter Erskine's dad- and how strange it is to find on YouTube some documentation of what I recall as the only couple of hours of hope from a few dismal months. 

Thanksgiving was approaching and I knew that Lovejoy would be home for the first time since she left. I felt increasing anxiety combined with strange hope, thinking maybe she and I would reconcile. In fact, I imagined her begging me to get back together, saying she had been wrong, apologizing, asking my forgiveness- but then would laugh at myself for all these thoughts, and be astonished at my madness. I have no idea how our face to face meeting came about, but meet we did, in the same den at her childhood home, where we had had so much romantic and sexual time together almost a year prior. 

She held fast to being split. I was so distraught by our conversation that I went outside her house and threw up in the bushes. I sometimes have found it hard to believe, looking back, how utterly nakedly vulnerable and raw I was. How easily she could slay me, like the Queen of Swords. As bloody and soft as I was, she was highly skilled at being utterly cold, below zero, steely and sharp as a veritable sword. It was a terrible encounter, but I was defenseless at the time. 

I went back into the den, however, and told her off. I recall a little bit of what I said, including that I thought she was selfish, self absorbed and a terrible human being. I stormed out and felt like I had simultaneously reclaimed a shred of dignity but had also killed something that once was beautiful, and killed it forever. I was so prone to absolute thinking at this time, a habit I obviously still indulge. It's clear to me now that the absolutism comes from a lack of emotional skill, a thorough lack of trust in the universe, an inability to let go and see what happens and a strong sense of self protection and control kicking in when I feel threatened. 

By Christmas, I would form another romantic/sexual dyad with The Painter, previously a woman I was friends with via involvement with the newspaper and arts magazine at my high school. The Painter, an incredible human being, fell madly in love with me, and I did not fall in love with her. I was still in love with Lovejoy. But I never spoke of that, and hoped it would wear off, and absolutely used The Painter's adoration of me to try to bolster myself. I know that if someone asked me at the time if that is what I was doing, of course, I would have denied it. But more about that in the next post.