This Will Destroy You

Metaphorically speaking. . . this "ism" has constantly existed, veiled dormant just below the surface of it all. Something ancient as time itself, surviving the eons, weathering the cataclysms, whilst spanning every generation of man ever conceived.

I have an undeniable itch buried within the internals of my psyche. It's a sensation I've felt for as long as I can recall.... the inclination to do something, anything to get outside of self. Fittingly, as a young child I could always be found outside. Growing up the first 5 years of my life at the end of a winding dirt road on 20 acres in rural West Virginia. It was an adventuresome boys dream-scape, & I explored it from dawn till dusk.
I ran. I searched. I chased. I escaped. From what, I genuinely had no idea. I knew when it was present, the only way I could figure out how to suppress the feeling was to not be.

Always searching.. under rocks, logs, debris & streams.

Some say there are a million ways to die... choose one. I'd say there are just as many ways to be addicted, to escape, to check out of reality. Many are illegal, considered immoral, unhealthy, unsafe, mind altering, or taboo. Some are part of everyday mainstream society, accepted & even condoned. Chances are, that if you partake in any process or substance addiction over time it will alter your brains chemistry, from caffeine to Heroin, sugar to porn, from chasing love to cutting yourself open (same damn thing~one scars your insides, while one scars your outsides )

While the main focus in my recovery has been refraining from drugs & alcohol, those are not even my real inner-most problems, as they were once my solution to make my life somewhat manageable. I have come to find through my research that I am in fact allergic to drugs n' alcohol & if used I break out in handcuffs. I become a frequent visitor of jails, hospitals, & institutions. Every time without exception.

Fall down nine times get back up ten.

Life usually goes well for me in a short amount of time when I refrain from using a substance or taking a drink. Though if I am true to myself & this entire process, my addiction can & does manifest itself in many various forms. These ways may be the lesser of many evils, & will most likely never land me behind bars, or strapped to a hospital gurney. However, I still feel like it's a trade off of one thing for another .. keeping me a prisoner behind these self-soothing walls, as a way of avoiding the discomfort of just being me, of the sensations I don't want to sit in & feel.

Are you escaping to your addiction or addicted to your escape?

I am here to call myself out on my shit. In the past 11 months of sobriety I have used the following to self-sooth &
to scratch the itch..

• Experienced Over-eating / heaviest weight of my life
• checking out on social media for escape
• posting on social media for validation
• partaking in a (healthy) dating relationship
• workaholic / fixaholic tendencies with my business
• falling madly in love / in crazy
• energy drinks / more caffeine than reasonable for human consumption
• sugar... (see above over-eating)
• riding my dirt bike excessively / with intention of escape
• losing the weight I previously gained (yo-yo dieting?)
• writing this recovery blog... journaling, writing these goddamn feelings out.
• Getting more & more bad ass tattoos

How else can you escape into addictions? Here are some popular ones along with the obscure.

Shopping, gambling, strip clubs, chocolate, coffee, compulsive working out, over exercising, cycling, extreme sports, tanning, cosmetic surgeries, chewing ice, pulling your own hair out, world of warcraft, online dating, video games, prostitutes, piercings, eating dirt, sex, masturbation, alcohol, religion, sniffing aerosol, adrenaline, stealing, fetishes, applause, drama, crime, people pleasing, risky behaviors, sexting, travel, voyeurism, women, the occult, love, joking about serious matters, isolation, hoarding, endorphins, attention, sleep,  

Here is what I have came to realize. I am & have always been the common denominator of this "ism" that I try to run from day in & day out... but why? You're supposed to love yourself. I'm suppose to love myself. Everybody should know that. I DO know that.. it hasn't been as rudimentary as it should seem for me to connect the dots.

Don't get me wrong, I think I'm a pretty swell guy most of the time. I think I'm one radical dude, good looking, charming, sense of humor, & gosh darn it, people like me.

 I even like myself... a lot. If I were someone else, I could see falling for me as a semi-rational choice.
 Since I've been working an honest program, I must confess that I am my biggest critic, I am very hard on myself, & find it somewhat hard to forgive my own mistakes, my own defects of character.

 It seems that when someone else loves me I tend to feed off of that, becoming me the best version of myself. But I've got it all backwards, if I feel external love, it validates reasons to have internal self love. If that external source goes away, fades, or proves inadequate... well, then my self worth begins rapidly to spiral downward. I take it all very personally that there IS something broken about me.

Now that this unbecoming plight of self has been exposed for what it is, I can begin to rebuild. To make progress.

I will do the internal work sufficient to obtain my emotional sobriety, the best version of self that I no longer desire to run from.

Upon meditating and praying to a greater power of my own understanding, I summoned "What am I supposed to learn from my recent struggles? ..."

An immediate and resounding response boomed back of "SELF" I take this omen as guidance to do the work of recovery on myself / for myself. Take care of myself, physically, mentally, spiritually.. Being the best version of myself in each  present day. Eventually this will lead me to love myself completely. I need to get the fuck out of my own way & allow everything the ability to fall into place as it should.

Will  getting a tattoo reminding me to have love in my heart for myself actually make any fucking difference? Who knows.. but all the drugs, alcohol, women, or other various  forms of escapism weren't a permanent solution.

I can see the progress, the changes. I mean.. I went from thinking I was Scar Face to Gandhi in a few short years for Christ sake..

A Dad, a Daughter, & a Disease

How does one delineate the character of a man? It's quite simple to outline his motionless body posthumously in chalk after he has repeatedly fallen to bottomless depths. Though it may be more difficult an attempt to trace his rising wings as he soars to unexplored heights.

 Is it a part of our human frailty to spotlight the negative or objectionable traits of our fellows over their positive attributes? I feel that I am quite guilty of this exact stance. Although, I am attempting to work through it with gratitude for each & every individual who has brought me joy, taught me invaluable lessons, or just stayed by my side  as my circle becomes smaller & smaller.


I think at times I may be difficult to define, or to put your finger on. If we break it down on paper I might look like this:

• I'm a dad of a 4 year old daughter.

• I'm a dad of a 4 year old daughter & I carry an incurable disease that will never die.

• I'm a dad of a 4 year old daughter, I carry an incurable disease that will never die, though it can be kept in remission through a rigorous program of recovery.

I may will never be societies ideal. I have to have optimism or at least hope that with commitment to my program & following through I can be the ideal version of myself ~ for myself.

"You either win or you learn" ~ my sponsor

 Coming to terms, that at face value, my 2 dimensional chalk outline appears to be a very bleak story line to be partnered with. This is proving to be hard to swallow, for the reasons that I'm thinking...
"I've done all this intricate therapy on trauma, abuse, addiction, & relationships. I've done intensive out-patient, EMDR, weekly group therapy, 12 step meetings.... so many fucking 12 step meetings.  I've even reconnected with my inner-child, discovered why my protective addict appears out of thin air to solve any & all problems I may face, and have delved into my functional self."



 My foolish pride & raging ego have the perception that I am the best option out there, no matter the reality of the situation at hand. 
Indispensable & irreplaceable.
I had other ideas. I planned that by exposing my depth & subsequent layers that I would be seen in 3-D, as a real man with character of worth. Worthy of staying with no matter the cost of future plans or present feelings.

"I was judging myself by the depths of my intentions, while the rest of the world judges me by the shallowness of my actions" ~ me

 We've all heard of, known of, or experienced first hand the disheartening stories about that same kind of person who lost, GAVE everything to their addictions. Can I be absolutely sure that it won't be me again? No, never can I say "never again will I do that ever again."... again. I can say that I will not today nor have I the 325 days preceding today. This is all I've got, while anything & everything I put in front of my recovery I will lose destroy.

I will give it away freely "IN the name of one more hit." every fucking time.

"If there may be qualities you admire in me now, traits 
that you have been able to find desirable or attractive in 
me , it is directly due to the fact that I am a dad, with 
a daughter, with an incurable disease that will never die, that can be kept in remission by practicing the principles I have learned in recovery in all of my daily affairs.'

Losing the Battle / Winning the War

Lose.Losing.Lost. Give.Gave.Gone. Forgive.Forgave.Forgone.

still right here.

The last few years of hanging around in the rooms of recovery have outfitted me with corrective lenses to view my ever evolving surroundings. It has altered my perspective on loss, or "losing things" vs. "giving them away." One can easily lose their car keys, passport, phone, wallet, wedding ring, or their favorite lighter (but we all know someone stole your lighter.)

I believe that societal history has been misleading to us all along.. novels, films, fairy tales, have all chronicled losing the love of your life, treasures, fortunes & fame. Or just losing your fucking mind. The actuality is that someone had some choices to make, & chose to let that shit go by the wayside.

"like sands through the hourglass, so are the days of our lives."

In all of this world, in all of this life, all of time has passed through all of our hands exactly the same, & not one second of it was ever "lost." It has all been accounted for, highly documented, captured with time stamps, born on dates, & your snapchat story, & social media status updates. We choose to give our allotted time to whatever is our priority at that given moment.

 I have never been the unassuming victim of having "lost jobs, lost loves, lost friends, lost homes, lost marriages, lost sobriety dates, or of being a lost cause." Even though my insane thinking would lead me to believe that I am the casualty of many outside circumstances. The victim of myself...

There have been innumerable times in my active addiction that I used this terminology wrong..

• I didn't lose my memories to black outs, I gave them away to alcohol.

• I didn't lose countless mornings & days to hangovers, I gave them to the night before by throwing them into the bottomless abyss of a high tolerance.

• I didn't lose my marriage, my engagement, or any other meaningful intimate relationship thereafter I had plans of keeping. I relinquished them to my own self-will run riot, defects of character, foolish pride, ego, self-centeredness.

• I didn't lose my business in Phoenix to a floundering economy, I gave it away willingly tending to a stripper n' blow habit.

• I never lost precious time with my daughter, I traded it in to my relapses, choosing drug binges over play dates.

• I didn't lose my health, I gave it away to finding escape time & time again.

• Don't lose today by giving it to the regrets of yesterday, or the fear of tomorrow.

You don't lose people , people don't lose you.. or time with people, or relationships with people. You give it away to something else. You give in to your vice of choice or you choose to give up on your vices....

I really wasn't ever ( & I still fuckin ain't never not) considered a scholar or a gentleman of the English language during my formal schooling. I was truly terrible at writing papers & upon my work being graded & returned it usually had enough corrections in red ink to resemble a C.S.I. murder scene. I still know enough that I can't quite grasp the phrase "lost away" making as much fucking sense to me as "gave away."

If I find myself in love & being loved one day, (hypothetically) but then not the next day, perhaps someone chose to give away the present to something else entirely. There are ultimately two days you cannot live in: Yesterday & Tomorrow.

 It appears that time-traveling is the #1 culprit in fucking things up for this life.. letting our minds travel back into the past or too far ahead into the future. Both can be equally frightening..

Often times we find ourselves living in the fear of another failed relationship, fear of the unknown, fear of  giving up control, fear of what the future may hold, fear of selfish-pride, & letting our ego run the show.... still we won't see each other posting lost n found pictures on light posts around the neighborhood. We didn't file a missing item report with the local authorities, Probably didn't even tear apart the couch cushions, frantically looking under the bed, scratching our heads, where was the last place I saw it?  Constantly thinking "Now where the hell did I put my love for you anyway? It's has't been lost, it's just been given away to another priority, another time...You actually search for things that are lost, you don't hunt for them if you gave it away.

Many have seen me lose some battles, what they don't always stay around to see is how I continue evolving,  my perseverance, growing internally stronger, how I endure to wage a war they know nothing about. A war that I will conquer.

Curbed by Karma

"While Karma stood over the pavement, I was biting the curb,  sick entertainment but I but it feels good..."

For whatever it's worth, I'm not proud of who I was circa the era of events surrounding this post. I have just been enlightened as to the extent of the emotional damage I must have caused others in my wake. If you are my mom, you should just stop reading now...

It was recently suggested, that the content being expressed in this post is most likely the type of shit most people don't, won't, or can't acknowledge in themselves. Let alone talk about it honestly in the raw. The secret skeletons everyone seems to have in relationships, but won't admit it until it tears them to shreds. Not for nothing, but here it goes.

Have you ever felt like you were arguing with yourself face to face?  Not so much in the literal sense of the mentally unstable homeless man. Spending his days in Pioneer park yelling obscenities & picking up dog shit with his bare hands. Randomly tossing it like grenades at the squirrels that may or may not be running by. 

 déjà vu perhaps...

More like clashing verbally in a emotionally charged battle with another that makes you feel like you are trying to rationalize with a former version of yourself? 
A variant of self.... pre-therapy, before ever considering that recovery was an actual thing, prior to becoming a father, previous to accepting that I am not in control & actually believing in a power greater than myself. 

For me it's a daily fight not to revert, not to self-sabotage my progress, while taking the easy way out instead. The former version of myself was like water, if it was hard, I didn't go there. I took the easiest path with the least amount of resistance. The softest way possible for me... Often times at the expenses of others.

Even back then I figured that sooner or later all-knowing-all-powerful-karma would catch up with me. I wasn't sure when or where it would find me, I thought I was decent at running from the wreckage of my past until recently it belted me with a powerful upper-cut. While hunched over with both hands on my knees attempting in vain to catch my breath, between the wheezing, I heard the voices of many scorned lovers echo through the pit of my stomach "You surely didn't think you were getting away with your past actions harming so many other's unscathed, did you?"

After many long hours, turning into days of self loathing, I shouted "Why the fuck is this happening to me!!??" as I shook my fists at the great blue sky.... I had an Aha moment of comprehension.. Of course this would find me in sobriety, so I can sit with these emotions, feeling every sensation running through me while not running to find shelter in a bottle, a bag, or someones bed. If heartache is cumulative over years of not letting it affect me, then this is why I get to feel it today. Almost like this was the first time.. if you thought teenage angst was tricky, try doubling the effect with un-checked mid 30's apprehensiveness.

Although I wasn't to keen on it then, (I was barely conscious) I was a pretty shitty & self-centered person in my drinking / using days. It was all about me. What I wanted from you, whom else I also wanted at the same time, how I wanted you, when I wanted it from you & finally how I was going to cut you off when I was done with you.

 In some form or another I was out to get mine. Even when not actively using a substance, I would turn to using women (my second favorite drug.) Even though I was raised to know right from wrong, even though I love & respect my mother..... I really only trusted that didn't have anything to offer or contribute in a healthy relationship. Especially trust.

My intentions were not to hurt anyone, my intention was to have some mutual fun, escape into something new & exciting, but at the first hint of it becoming serious I would get flighty. I would conveniently  distance myself from you with working more, traveling, racing / riding my dirt bike again, or partying with friends every weekend (a.k.a. by myself) until eventually I found the next new and fun thing to dive into. It wasn't really about you as a person, but I sure a hell didn't want you to know I couldn't express my deepest feelings anything past orgasms, drunken banter, or coked up philosophical talks.

I was shut off from the world emotionally, but I didn't want my partner to be... I desired them to want me, to need me, to fall in love with me. Once I had sealed that deal, I could put them up on a dusty shelf or as a trophy on the mantle if it was a large enough conquest. Then I was off looking for the next, getting that same old high again with the thrill of the chase or being chased.

I would always do my best to conveniently miss calls, cancel upcoming plans, be vague & shady (mysterious) about my whereabouts, be out with friends, hoping that the woman I no longer desired to be with would just drop out & call things off on their own accord. If they walked away by their own choice, I could handle that easier than being upfront and honest. (It's not you, it's her) Since my intentions were to still be decent, I did everything I could (in appearance) not to be the bad guy. Going so far as to tell them I missed them from time to time, but due to our hectic schedules it was virtually impossible to line up time to actually see each other. I would keep them hanging on as my lifeline in case I needed a back up plan someday.

Occasionally, one would come along that I would start to catch strong feelings for, had a sexually charged connection with, that I mistook for intimacy. I grew attached to my perception of what we were. It felt like we fit just fucking right.. yet those seemed to be the ones I fucked up & burnt bridges with the most (because I had my own skin in the game) I would eventually continue doing what I had always done.. Then wonder why I had gotten the same results, same old feelings of shame, remorse, regret.

At my worst I had just turned 30. Perhaps I was in mourning of my twenties, thinking the party would soon end, or maybe I was just getting in my groove. In appearance I was dating a single mother, who from time to time I was serious enough to take out on dinner dates & stay over at her house overnight. To balance out this normalcy, I began sleeping with a buddies girlfriend I had known for years, I managed to impregnate an Exotic dancer whose stage name spelled out backwards was anaL, along with various random encounters. It seemed the only standard I had was a double-standard..

The shrouded truth that I was not about to share with you, or be up front about, was that I had already decided before ever hooking up with you that it was just not probable we would end up staying together. It was my self defense against building up any hopes or expectations that this would be any different than my past attempts at monogamy.

I just couldn't for the life of me figure out why I wasn't good enough for the ones I wanted to stay, to stay...  during all this time my my number one love was still cocaine. Cocaine didn't say no. Not once ever that I can recall... Cocaine never asked me where I was last night, who I was with, or why I wasn't answering my phone. Cocaine liked going to the same strip clubs & bars I did, and if I felt like staying inside on Friday night (through Tuesday afternoon) & isolate from the outside world she was always happy to oblige. Not once did I hear her complain that I wasn't enough.

 I was infatuated with her on every level & she got me completely. Everything else & everyone else were side dishes compared to her. 



........ to be continued

The Mechanicus Dilemma

As a man attempting to tame the machine, is life coming for me, or am I coming for it? Control is a fucking illusion, so why try to sway the outcome of anything you do or create? I currently practice surrendering my will to a higher power, but I struggle as to what ends. Lately I have felt removed from whats real or what I thought matters... a mental state of being I can't quite rely on, a vague recollection of not fitting in.

Suppose instead that I could engineer this life the way I see fit? Controlling & manipulating how I feel the way it ought to run, like a well built engine, timed & synchronized in perfect harmony.

 Could I set up a chassis that would flawlessly handle what this life has in store for me? Did I correctly measure the geometry, camber, rake & trail? Will it have that perfectly balanced feel, the correct attitude to maneuver the course, agile through life's twists & turns? Have I manufactured an instrument that absorbs the lowest bottoms & will rebound before the next set of seemingly endless obstacles appear on the horizon?

It takes me back. Back to the way I felt before I ever drank alcohol,  used a substance, or fucked....

I remember feeling disconnected (until I started doing one or ALL 3 of the aforementioned things) How deep can this feeling run? Am I supposed to re-process & let myself feel what I blocked out by escaping for decades? I developed these coping mechanisms as an early teenager. They always worked as promised, delivering me the ability to have a gratifying departure from day to day stresses, trials, & tribulations.


Just as I initially held pride in the fact that I was a functional alcoholic for years (I put the FUN in functional alcholism) I have also been a self proclaimed workaholic in my chosen field, and if I delve further down, deep inside it's ultimately because I'm a fixaholic. Upon further thought and awareness of such a thing, it's begun to turn my whole world upside down. 

You see, I am a professional technician, a motorcycle mechanic. At face value I'm some guy that has taken a passion & need to fix my own bike, into formal technical training, into a career field, into the professional racing circuit, into my own business that is flourishing.

That should (and has always) seemed really fucking cool to most people I've met.

I'd love nothing more to exude a profound equanimity surrounding how I feel about my career, the people who pass through my doors. That I could remain in a neutral emotional state when someone doesn't appreciate my work.  I wish I were not affected so greatly by peoples opinions, my self worth framed by validation of who loves or hates my mechanical prowess.. I have a fairly high satisfaction rate I'd say, but 9 people could be tickled pink with my work & the 1 person who says it's garbage gains all my attention, my emotional rage is directed at that one issue & on how to fix it until I have 100% satisfaction.

A very close & intimate friend has told me a mantra that reverberates at times when I can't fathom the thought of someones disapproval.. She states "I'm not for everyone, and everyone is not for me." Going on to explain that this is just the way it should be, that this is fine.

I consider my services, my artistry as an extension of myself allowing me to express who I am. Most great artists are  unnoticed & unappreciated until after there mortal lives have passed by...

  
Just yesterday driving home in the van, my 4 yr old daughter turns to me and exclaims, "Dad, I'm proud of you.... because you can fix everything!" It really made my day, also caught me off guard that a kid would say such a thing (she was referring to being able to fix machines for a living) and that a girl thinks that her dad is really cool.

On the other end of the spectrum, I immediately thought to myself : "I can fix mechanical things with the best of them, but I can't even figure out how to fix myself or my own damaged relationships"

That is really my one true wish.. I can be known as the bike whisperer, but I crave real human interactions & connection. To be a part of a deep & meaningful conversation.

I realize that has to start inside of me. 



"Practicing recovery doesn't remove the rocks from the path you are traveling, but doing the work gives you better springs for your wagon." ~ ancient Alcoholic Proverb

INFP

Introverted iNtuitive Feeling Perceiving

"I remember the first albatross I ever saw. ... At intervals, it arched forth its vast archangel wings, as if to embrace some holy ark. Wondrous flutterings and throbbings shook it. Though bodily unharmed, it uttered cries, as some king's ghost in super natural distress. Through its inexpressible, strange eyes, methought I peeped to secrets not below the heavens. As Abraham before the angels, I bowed myself..." --(Herman Melville, Moby Dick)

INFPs never seem to lose their sense of wonder. One might say they see life through rose-colored glasses. It's as though they live at the edge of a looking-glass world where mundane objects come to life, where flora and fauna take on near-human qualities.

INFP children often exhibit this in a 'Calvin and Hobbes' fashion, switching from reality to fantasy and back again. With few exceptions, it is the NF child who readily develops imaginary playmates (as with Anne of Green Gables's "bookcase girlfriend"--her own reflection) and whose stuffed animals come to life like the Velveteen Rabbit and the Skin Horse:

"...Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand..." (the Skin Horse)

INFPs have the ability to see good in almost anyone or anything. Even for the most unlovable the INFP is wont to have pity.

Rest you, my enemy,
Slain without fault,
Life smacks but tastelessly
Lacking your salt!
Stuck in a bog whence naught
May catapult me,
Come from the grave, long-sought,
Come and insult me!
--(Steven Vincent Benet, Elegy for an Enemy)

INFP Learning Style

How INFPs acquire, memorize and recollect information

An INFP’s interest in learning a subject is related to the question, “Are we doing the right thing?” The more complete and in-depth the answer they receive during the learning process, the stronger their interest in the topic and the greater their desire to delve deeper into it. Their desire to study something is driven by their desire to find solutions to issues facing humanity.

INFPs easily grasp material, especially if a large part of it is devoted to how the topic relates to human behavior or activity. They are good at retaining theoretical material, especially when it actively engages their feelings. Needing to understand material that is purely logical or not related to the humanities or social sciences is boring to an INFP. For example, they may find studying the rules of the road to be a tedious task.

INFPs understand new material with great depth and breadth. They are able to deeply grasp material independently. INFPs are capable of mechanical memorization, but the amount retained this way is less that in memory based on understanding. They are able to accurately reproduce received information, especially if they associate it with any feelings.

Group work on study material does not give INFPs any advantage in comparison to individual work. Visual aids, though they do improve their capacity for learning, are not a very significant factor.

INFPs are able to actively work with material they have learned well and understood. They are capable of applying it in obvious, straightforward ways or creatively developing it beyond what they have been taught.

INFPs do not have a high level of tolerance to high levels of learning related stress.

Your Type Preferences

Introvert(25%) iNtuitive(38%) Feeling(9%) Perceiving(34%)

Homer
Virgil
Mary, mother of Jesus
St. John, the beloved disciple
St. Luke; physician, disciple, author
William Shakespeare, bard of Avon
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (Evangeline)
A. A. Milne (Winnie the Pooh)
Laura Ingalls Wilder (Little House on the Prairie)
Helen Keller, deaf and blind author 
Carl Rogers, reflective psychologist, counselor
Fred Rogers (Mister Rogers' Neighborhood)
Dick Clark (American Bandstand)
Donna Reed, actor (It's a Wonderful Life)
Jacqueline Kennedy Onasis
Neil Diamond, vocalist
Tom Brokaw, news anchor
James Herriot (All Creatures Great and Small)
Annie Dillard (Pilgrim at Tinker Creek)
James Taylor, vocalist
Julia Roberts, actor (Conspiracy Theory, Pretty Woman)
Scott Bakula (Quantum Leap)
Terri Gross (PBS's "Fresh Air")
Amy Tan (author of The Joy-Luck Club, The Kitchen God's Wife)
John F. Kennedy, Jr.
Lisa Kudrow ("Phoebe" of Friends)
Fred Savage ("The Wonder Years")

Functional Analysis Of The INFP

Based on Jung’s framework of cognitive functions

Introverted Feeling

INFPs live primarily in a rich inner world of introverted Feeling. Being inward-turning, the natural attraction is away from world and toward essence and ideal. This introversion of dominant Feeling, receiving its data from extraverted intuition, must be the source of the quixotic nature of these usually gentle beings. Feeling is caught in the approach- avoidance bind between concern both for people and for All Creatures Great and Small, and a psycho-magnetic repulsion from the same. The "object," be it homo sapiens or a mere representation of an organism, is valued only to the degree that the object contains some measure of the inner Essence or greater Good. Doing a good deed, for example, may provide intrinsic satisfaction which is only secondary to the greater good of striking a blow against Man's Inhumanity to Mankind.

Extraverted iNtuition

Extraverted intuition faces outward, greeting the world on behalf of Feeling. What the observer usually sees is creativity with implied good will. Intuition spawns this type's philosophical bent and strengthens pattern perception. It combines as auxiliary with introverted Feeling and gives rise to unusual skill in both character development and fluency with language--a sound basis for the development of literary facility. If INTPs aspire to word mechanics, INFPs would be verbal artists.

Introverted Sensing

Sensing is introverted and often invisible. This stealth function in the third position gives INFPs a natural inclination toward absent- mindedness and other-worldliness, however, Feeling's strong people awareness provides a balancing, mitigating effect. This introverted Sensing is somewhat categorical, a subdued version of SJ sensing. In the third position, however, it is easily overridden by the stronger functions.

Extraverted Thinking

The INFP may turn to inferior extraverted Thinking for help in focusing on externals and for closure. INFPs can even masquerade in their ESTJ business suit, but not without expending considerable energy. The inferior, problematic nature of Extraverted Thinking is its lack of context and proportion. Single impersonal facts may loom large or attain higher priority than more salient principles which are all but overlooked.

Past Tense

"Shoulda been, coulda been, woulda been dead if I didn't get the message going to my head." ~ Anthony Kiedis

 We have here an elision field. Elide, rooted in the Latin for "to strike out," means "to omit"; in speech, an elision is the omission of letters and sounds to produce compressions like don't and couldn't, or as the would-be boxer played by Marlon Brando in "On the Waterfront" said, "I coulda been a contender." paraphrased from ON LANGUAGE; Shoulda-Coulda-Woulda By William Safire

I've said it before... probably many times in my racing career, I coulda jumped that obstacle, I shoulda made that pass on the last lap, I woulda won the fucking race. But more often than not I just didn't.

I'm also certain I've muttered it under my breathe to others who have claimed reasons for not doing.. for living in the past. If I had a time machine, I'd probably use it like a vacuum and try to clean. Un-blemish all my coulda, shoulda, wouldas that I somehow think are worth changing, holding onto, or hoping they had turned out differently.

I believe that is defined as regret, which as a human being seems to plague us all at one point or another. As an alcoholic we really don't like to feel regret from our mistakes or poor choices made while inebriated. But it sure was nice to have the excuse. 

 I daringly propose that in sobriety the intense thoughts of regret can be unequivocally brutal. They can be deep enough to take you back out or strong enough to arouse the spark of progress. I meditate (practice) upon waking every morning to remove the insanity of altering the past to suit me better. The way it would be if I was running the show in former or current personal relationships, with my family, friends, customers, business, & even future opportunities.

I long to understand how not to become that old man, tinkering alone in my workshop. Formulating ways to fix the past, while staring at a long list of heartaches. Waiting for the ones I wished I had spent more time with to visit me. Yearning that in my former days I had been more honest to others & myself. That I hadn't been so quick to judge others & had forgiven more often.

I am striving to live life on life's terms, to realize (also practicing) that what others think of me is none of my Goddamn business, live each day to the fullest, gravitating towards what really matters most. Resisting the urge to escape into my work, spending my time building an empire, just to sit on a single throne at the end of my days. 

How can I instead pursue a mentally intimate connection that last a life time? I have to start by facing my fears head on before they grow into six headed behemoths. Staying in the present, not dwelling on the past, nor worrying about the future. One day at a time of not reacting & gas-lighting so that shit blows up in my face...

This is the daily undertaking for me, though I begin everyday turning over my will to a higher power of my own understanding, asking  for guidance & acceptance. I relinquish my (false) sense of control, instead offering to surrender it along my insecurities, fears, regrets, self-centeredness, jealousy, morbid reflections, & self seeking ways.

I am becoming aware this is quite the feat for any mortal man or woman. I have not accomplished a single day perfectly... though awareness is more than half of the battle.