WHEN THE SHADOW SELF TAKES OVER
A SHORT STORY ABOUT THE CONSEQUENCES OF TRYING TO RUN FROM YOUR INNER DEMONS & LOSING A LOVED ONE TO ADDICTION.
“Unfortunately there can be no doubt that man is, on the whole, less good than he imagines himself or wants to be. Everyone carries a shadow, and the less it is embodied in the individual’s conscious life, the blacker and denser it is. At all counts, it forms an unconscious snag, thwarting our most well-meant intentions.” - Carl Yung
It was 10am when we pulled into Russell street, and though all I wished to do was run down to the riverfront and breathe in the familiar, salty air, that’s not what we were here for. To our right sat the Munna Point caravan park where we had camped for three weeks every September holidays, for 12 years straight. Our whole family had loved this place so much that mum and dad eventually decided to buy a holiday home in the same street. It was a place that had once been a source of great excitement and harboured my most treasured childhood memories. Though sadly now those memories were tainted by new ones that had been created over the last five years. Memories of hurt, disbelief and betrayal. Memories of my family being torn apart. Memories that had changed me deeply as a person and altered the course of my life. So now, instead of feeling excitement and joy for being here, I felt little more than discomfort and unease writhing around inside of me.
‘He still hasn’t replied,’ my sister said, snapping me out of my thoughts. I could hear the worry in her voice and glanced over at her. ‘Don’t stress, he’s probably still just in bed,’ she shrugged, offering me a weak smile. ‘Or maybe we’ll walk in to find him dead,’ I silently considered. A truly horrible thought to think, though a possibility, nonetheless.
‘Let’s just go in,’ I mumbled, wishing to get the next few hours over and done with.
The anxiety I had felt creeping in the entire drive increased with each step I took towards the unit. I hadn’t seen my father in 9 months and hadn’t spoken to him in 5. A conscious choice on my behalf to preserve my mental and emotional wellbeing after we had gotten to the point where I could no longer speak to him without it ending in a shouting match. I allowed Ellie to go in first. The older of the two of us, she had always been closer to dad and if I was being completely honest, was the only reason I was here. She didn’t bother knocking, just pushed the door open, calling out ‘hey dad, it’s just us,’ as she stepped over the threshold.
‘I’m in the shower...be up in a minute,’ he replied, his voice frail and hardly audible even though we stood not even ten feet away from him.
‘Okay, take your time,’ Ellie called back.
As we reached the second landing, the first things I noticed were the rows of empty liquor bottles lined up on the kitchen shelf, the broken lamp leaning precariously against the wall, and the inch-thick layer of dust that had settled over everything. Next was the blood stains in the carpet where he had fallen several weeks ago, a fan that lay on the floor in pieces - forgotten or ignored? And a drooping, mouldy bouquet of flowers that sat abandoned on the dining table.
‘Oh dad,’ I breathed as I continued to assess the state of the unit. My stomach suddenly hollow as if I’d been punched in the gut. I heard heavy footsteps at the top of the stairs and did my best to conceal my horror before turning to greet my father, but knew that I had failed miserably. Because if I thought the unit was in a bad state, it had nothing on him.
He was thinner than I had ever seen him and deathly pale. Only a few strands of white hair remained on his head and his face had a sallow tinge to it that suggested just how unwell he truly was. He hugged Ellie first, then me, before easing himself onto the couch, his breath coming in and out in ragged gasps.
‘Sorry I took so long girls, I had to sit on the toilet for five minutes just to catch my breath.’ With a shaky hand, he lifted a can of pepsi to his mouth and took a swig.
‘You look worse than yesterday,’ Ellie assessed, ‘did you sleep at all last night?’
‘I got to sleep okay but woke up not long after and then I started thinking about everything and that was it... I was awake for the rest of the night...’ he trailed off, staring blankly at the tv.
‘Are you still passing blood?’ She asked methodically, gathering the information she needed to relay to the doctors.
‘Not last night, but I did this morning,’ dad answered.
‘Okay, well do you want to go to the hospital now or would you like to rest for a bit longer?’
‘I think I’ll rest a bit longer if that’s okay.’
‘Yeah of course dad, that’s fine. I’ll start getting your things together.’ Ellie began moving around the unit, gathering bits and pieces and putting them into an old shopping bag. ‘What do you think you’ll need if they want to keep you in overnight?’
Twenty minutes later, after they had left for the hospital and I was alone, I walked upstairs to the main bedroom. Sinking down onto the edge of the mattress, I put my head in my hands and finally allowed everything I’d been keeping at bay to wash over me. Tears streamed down my face as I considered the sad, lonely life he was living and grieved for the man I had known that no longer existed, except for in fleeting moments of sobriety between drinks.
I continued to cry as I emptied the fridge and scrubbed the shelving clean. As I bleached the showers and dusted cobwebs from the windowsills. And as I sponged the cupboard doors and threw garbage bag after garbage bag of rotten food away. His words replayed over and over in my mind while I cleaned. ‘And then I started thinking about everything and that was it... I was awake for the rest of the night.’ And I knew that to the average person that might seem like a pretty normal statement. A lot of people had trouble quieting their mind, especially at night as they finally slowed down for the first time all day and lay in their beds. But not being one of those people myself because I had dedicated my life to self-development and the pursuit of becoming the best version of myself for the past six years, allowed me to see that that right there was the reason behind all of this. It was the reason why he was depressed. Why he was an alcoholic. Why he was sabotaging his health so thoroughly. Why he had ruined his 30-year marriage with my mum and abandoned his family. And why he had essentially given up on life. The simple fact was that my father could not stand to be alone with his thoughts, and that was precisely the cause of his demise.
He had never had the courage to face his inner demons or become acquainted with his shadow self*. Had never worked through his trauma or wounding or generational curses. And so naturally, after years of ignoring everything that existed within his subconscious mind, his thoughts had begun to haunt him, and his only defence had been to try and supress them by taking anti-depressants and drink until he was numb. Instead of putting up a fight, he tried to hide, but you cannot hide or run away from your shadows, because they are a part of you. And so eventually, he grew so weak that his inner demons were able to take over and he allowed them to win. And now as a result, his shadow-self* was controlling him and ruining his life.
After several hours, Ellie returned to the unit with a boot load of groceries so that dad wouldn’t come home to an empty fridge when he was discharged, and we finished what we could in the kitchen. It felt like we had barely scratched the surface, but it was a start. And while both of us knew he probably wouldn’t even notice what we had done and if anything, would more likely be angry at what we had thrown away, it didn’t matter. It was one of the only ways we could help him these days.
When we began the two-hour drive back home to Brisbane, filthy and exhausted, I sat in quiet contemplation, reflecting on the last six years and everything that we had been through as a result of the choices our father had made. I can speak from experience when I say that watching a loved one, especially a parent, fall into the clutches of depression and addiction is one of the most heart wrenching things a person can go through as the pain of watching someone you love disappear before your very eyes and turn into a stranger is like no other. The worst part is that most of the time, they have no desire to be helped. But one of the most important things I had come to understand over the years was that experiencing this sort of thing will cause you to go in one of two ways; follow in their footsteps or recognise the pattern and choose to break the cycle.
And in that moment I felt so grateful that I had chosen to go down a different path than my father had, and could recognise that for as much pain and heartache he had caused me over the years, he had also, unknowingly, offered me several gifts. He had brought me closer to my mother and sister, he had driven me to go deeper into myself and my journey of growth, and he had helped to lead me to my purpose.
And this is why I am so passionate about sharing my knowledge on self-development and spirituality, teaching people how to do shadow work and educating people about masculine and feminine embodiment.
Because I have witnessed first-hand, the utter destruction and devastation that a man who never did the inner work to move out of his wounded + immature masculine energy can cause. And what not confronting your demons nor bringing your shadows into the light can do to a person, and if I can help just one person defeat their own darkness and not go through the same things I have had to, then perhaps it has all been worth it.
Trusting & surrendering to the process of life, always. Gem x
*Shadow self; another word for ‘inner demons,’ the shadow self is one’s ‘dark side’ made up of the unconscious aspects of ourselves that we have deemed unacceptable, unlikeable and inappropriate. and have therefore done our best to ignore, supress, and hide from the world. If the shadow self is not accepted and reintegrated into the psyche, it will control you on a subconscious level and wreak havoc in your life.
“Unfortunately there can be no doubt that man is, on the whole, less good than he imagines himself or wants to be. Everyone carries a shadow, and the less it is embodied in the individual’s conscious life, the blacker and denser it is. At all counts, it forms an unconscious snag, thwarting our most well-meant intentions.” Carl Yung