It is All About Showing Up

Many of my posts have been my tooting the horn in favor of being authentic and showing up – essentially stepping into the arena, daring greatly – for oneself. It is a lesson I repeat over and over; it requires courage each and every time. And every time, there is a benefit. For me, it is the opportunity to learn about myself -- sometimes by observing my actions, at other times by another’s reflecting back to me their observations. Sometimes it is just healing. I've faced a fear and conquered it by staring it in the face. There is always a pay-off, though.

The key to showing up is believing in the value of the risk. Showing up means that I don’t medicate, numb, go small, or become self-righteous, transfer, or deflect. It is staying present and allowing the feelings to be expressed. When I show up, sometimes it is in small ways – which are significant indeed – perhaps by staying present when I want to hide or medicate through food or TV. Usually when I talk about showing up, I refer to really stepping into the arena to be as authentic as I know to be. For me, that means being completely honest with whatever is going on with me while not retreating into some form of avoidance. It is often painful. After all, if it was easy there wouldn't be fear, and without fear, there lacks the element of courage. Showing up is intentional.

This topic is heavy on my mind today because it directly speaks to my self-worth. To show up is to be seen, or make myself known. It puts me in a place of potential rejection – one of my chief fears. Showing up is about loving me enough to deal with the tough stuff. Showing up is having trust and hope in the outcome – that I am strong enough to handle even the worst case scenario. For instance, if I share my feelings and thoughts with someone and they do reject those gestures, I do not have to be rejected. I am still of value and worth whether that person affirms it or not.

In dealing with my various forms of compulsivity, I have needed to own up to what feelings I am trying to avoid. A lot of times, heck it seems most of the time, I don’t even have a clue. It takes some detective work. And that in and of itself is showing up! When that sense of discomfort strikes, my reaction is to stuff it (literally with food), go smoke a cigarette, watch tv (mindlessly), become numb in some fashion or what I have discovered lately, to get a high found in the feel-good talk of a relationship (real or imaged). Are any of my behaviors “off the chart”? I really don’t think so.  Erma calls me a high-functioning addict; I acknowledge that. The problem then is that I’m not happy with this behavior; I'm still powerless over the addiction and then my life becomes unmanageable. I have the choice to let this cycle continue in my life, or to do something different. To do different - the context is toward healthy behavior - is to show up. 

I have tasted the sweetness of being authentic and being seen. I like it very much and it is where I find joy because I can have relationships where honesty, openness, and acceptance are the norm. I don’t like the feeling of avoidance. It promotes the self-loathing that I am trying to overcome. Showing up, on the other hand, promotes my self-worth. I am telling myself that no matter what, I am here for myself; I believe in myself, I accept myself and I love myself. This is self-esteem. And that is definitely cruising with my hair down, smile bright and wide, waving hello as I accelerate in The Healing Lane!

Choose Wisely

My recovery week in review…Monday I mustered the courage to face my love addiction by going to a twelve step meeting (followed by an emotional reaction), Tuesday was the airing of the story on EMDR (a lot of compliments for my "daring greatly" efforts), Wednesday was final divorce mediation (good work in getting this done finally, but painful nevertheless), Thursday brought group therapy, step study, a twelve step meeting (let’s just say it was quite a day), Friday was yet another twelve step meeting.  I have exhibited  a lot of vulnerability this week. Perhaps tonight I’m feeling the effects of that. Brené Brown refers to it as the “vulnerability hangover.”  It seems to becoming standard requirement for me these days.  The main point of this for me, is that I am showing up for myself. I am taking risks, showing courage, and heading full-on toward healing and wholeness.

I ask myself, what will that look like anyway? What does wholeness mean? Will I know it when I get there? Do I ever get there? I know for certain that I’m not there now. I still feel broken. I still feel shame for many things, but tonight I am most aware of the feeling of shame for having emotional needs, of asking for those needs to be met, heck, for even wanting to have those needs met. I acknowledge that it sounds absurd, but when I honestly assess my beliefs, there they are, horrifically staring at me; it sounds rather pathetic actually. I say this because I would never deny that my son needs to be loved, to be held, to be cherished. He most certainly has emotional needs, and as his mother I did my best to meet them when he was in my care. Why then, do I feel guilty and shameful for having those same needs? Yes, there is some work still. Old tapes are the worst, aren’t they? They become so ingrained within that it is work to get them changed, or more appropriately to create new ones.

Erma and I talked about the notion of stopping such tapes. Then she suggested that we hit the play button of the NEW tapes. What I think is the best metaphor is to hit the “skip” button. I can’t really help or control that the track of negative beliefs begin, but I can decide whether I will allow it to play in its entirety or to hit the repeat track over and over. Recovery has taught me that I have choices including what to do about my thoughts. I can combat this negativity with some commitment. Those thoughts can be rather sneaky, and I sometimes find myself having entertained a whole series of negative thoughts before my awareness kicks in that I have been in that zone for awhile. The gentle and loving thing I want to do is simply shift my thinking from harm to love. Whew! Easier said than done! This is one reason I write…to put to paper my intentions, to go from wishful to willful. It is not merely about wishing to be different but the willingness and intention to make things different. I choose to shift my unhealthy thoughts to affirming, positive ones.

Ultimately, I see that I have a choice on what to do about my compulsive behaviors. I am still challenged by the thought of being powerless in this addiction (step one) but I do have a choice as to whether I look at this love addiction or just deny/minimize its effects. I choose to seek healing by attending twelve step meetings; it is intentional, difficult; and doable. I see my choice to be a part of the EMDR story and my intention to share my experience so that others may benefit as well.  It was my choice to go to mediation for my divorce, to be considerate and caring through the process and most definitely to not be vengeful, resentful, or harmful. Most notably, I see it is my intention to keep showing up for myself; to see myself beyond the current situation, the current pain and exhaustion from battling the unhealthy thoughts and behaviors. One of the best gifts of twelve step programs is seeing the sober living of those who have gone before me and to see the joy and peace in them.   

The therapy work I have done this past year has really paid off. I continue down The Healing Lane with those tools and the awareness which are invaluable to me as I renew my intention of recovery. I choose health; I choose healing; I choose living and giving. Yes, I shall simply “skip” the  shame tape that keeps wanting to play in its entirety and move to playing the “I am worthy, loveable, and precious” track.  I can hit repeat on that one.

My EMDR Story on PBS

When I started down the Healing Lane many months ago, I had no idea of what I was really embarking upon. After all, how could I? I had spent years on the Road of Dis-Ease, causing physical and emotional harm by trying to numb away the pain that was mounting within me. But as I have shared numerous times, I set out to change things - to redeem my life from the snares of a slow death.  It was into my second year on this path that I actually called it "The Healing Lane" because I had the life-changing events of July 2012, and I wanted to move into a new season and out of the one I had spent in for far too long. 

Part of my therapy has included EMDR or Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing. This has been a very significant part of my healing. I was interviewed in August for a story on Arizona Illustrated Science (PBS series) regarding EMDR therapy. The story aired last night; it is about 6 1/2 minutes of the half hour program. I've gotten good feedback, including very complimentary remarks from Debra (who is the authority and clinician in the story). 

Seeing myself on air -- wrinkles, weight, moles and all -- was a bit difficult. Who really likes to see that much of oneself up close and personal?! I knew I would struggle with this when I agreed to do the story. I put my best face forward and decided it was worth the risk anyway. I am pleased, despite it requiring my working through my self-critique not only of my appearance but what and how I actually communicated. That is just part of putting myself in the public eye, so I'm letting go of a lot of my negative talk, accepting that I did the best I knew and could do. I forget those little quirky things I do, but are rather accepted standard behavior by those who know me. I repeat, "I yam what I yam."  Yes, Sara, keep reminding yourself: Acceptance.  

The story is one of four on the general topic of vision/visual interests; the EMDR piece was the last one aired,  but it was the best story in my opinion! The link below takes you to that segment.

https://originals.azpm.org/p/azill-science/2013/10/22/27872-controversial-treatment-eases-trauma-raises-questions/. 

You will see a written version;  click the play arrow on the picture of me if you want to watch the video. There I go again...I just keep putting myself out there! I guess daring greatly and having a willingness to take risks really are a part of my healing as I work my way along The Healing Lane, with my sights on wholeness, awareness, and forgiveness. Sometimes I'm stumbling along, sometimes drifting, mostly at a steady and devoted pace, but occasionally, sprinting.  I like the thought of being a runner, even if at this point it is only metaphorically speaking. I got the shoes, the matching outfit, and the headband . Incidentally, the headband reads "Never Give Up".  

So That’s a Containment Boundary!

I have believed for most of my life that “I am too much.” This was told to me when I was younger, and more directly as a teen, and then frequently by my soon-to-be-ex-husband. I suppose that the term “too much” applies to a lot of things. I took it to mean, that I – my being, my soul, my needs, my personality, me-being-me – was too much for people to like, and therefor to be loved I needed to just scale back. Essentially, I couldn't be the all-out “me” and be loved.

I have been addressing this belief, and had some significant breakthroughs in this area. I’m glad to say that I am embracing the idea that I am OK, and that indeed I am not too much. That I am OK the way I was created to be; that my high-spirited, live-out-loud, expressive, sensual, emotional, analytical self is just who I am. In my quest to be authentic and genuinely the person God created me to be, I am finally accepting that there is a reason that I am made the way I am.

Today it occurred to me that what is really meant by “too much” isn't that there is something wrong with me – implying I am defective, eliciting shame – but that some of my behavior relates more to a containment boundary. If I am behaving loudly, for instance, and someone asks me to tone it down, it just means that my behavior may be offensive or that my behavior is undesirable. I am not undesirable or unlovable. My tendency to wear my heart on my sleeve – that is to be expressly emotional with my feelings – is uncomfortable for some people. In these cases, my way of behaving may be “too much” for them. I can accept that this is not about me, but about them. I can accept that some like it one way and some like it another. I do not have to “change” in order to be loved. I can choose whether I want to contain my behaviors in order to respect the boundaries of others. That is my choice, and it is about loving myself and accepting that I am the way I am. However, I can love others by containing my behavior which does affect others. 

Containment is about recognizing my choices. I may choose to respect another’s request or boundaries by modifying my behavior. Not because I am defective, but because of my desire to be loving and respectful. A request doesn't mean I have to honor it; it doesn't mean that I am unworthy, unlovable, broken, or any of the shame labels I have given myself in the past. A request is simply that: a request. A judgment, preference, or indifference over behavior is not equal to judging, preferring, or rejecting the person. This realization is a rather significant “a-ha” moment for me because I haven’t gotten this until now! Out of respect for myself and/or others I may choose to remove myself rather than contain myself in a way that is disingenuous or feels unauthentic. This is a perfectly reasonable option. That just occurred to me! It is simply another choice.

Telling me “You’re too much” was translated to “I’m not right; I’m not good enough; I can’t be loved the way I am, so in order to be loved I must change who I am.” Just how does one go about changing who we are anyway? My solution was to hide, to minimize my needs and the pain of feeling rejected, to turn on myself by believing I was defective, to medicate, and ultimately not be the “real me” to the world. Oh, there were glimpses, there were times when my inhibitions were let loose. There were those people that embraced my larger-than-life ways. Thank God for those times. Thank God for those people who loved me in spite of myself. But over time, by-and-large, I just became less and less of myself -- essentially shrinking on the inside, while getting larger and larger on the outside.

Fifteen months into therapy and recovery, and I’m seeing some Healing Lane victory laps! It is still such a day-to-day challenge. I feel up one and down the next. It seems there is no shortage of issues to address, emotions to reconcile, issues to process. Ah, but isn't that always the case? I’m still rather new at this, but I’m starting to flow in this whole “awareness” thing. I’m starting to figure this out on my own, or so I hope. This containment revelation is so new (I did say "today" by the way) it hasn't passed the Debra session yet. It appears I’m getting rather confident in myself.  Whew! That says a lot in and of itself! With that, it sounds like I’m tooting my own horn, which is of course, while cruising along, windows down, enjoying the ride through The Healing Lane. Today has been a great day! Full moon Saturday night, here I am (too much, ya think?)!! 

More on My Blasted Compulsive Behavior

I have not hidden my struggle with my addictions that are embroiled within the codependent behavior for which I am in recovery. This month, culminating this week in a look-myself-squarely-in-the-face reality check, I have been dealing with love addiction. I acknowledge that my overwhelming thoughts on this are along the lines of "Really? More compulsivity to address? Can't I just be done with this? Is there no end to the ways I find myself thinking and acting compulsively?"

I have a history toward the obsessive side most notedly regarding food and cigarettes. I also tend to use spending, given the chance, and I can see the lure in drinking and gambling. I recognize the addictive behavior and how it just shifts from one vice to another. It is all about that chemical fix to relieve the pain and obtain that momentary high. Oh, that blasted coping skill! 

I have learned that in addition to the aforementioned, I also get a buzz from the attention and newness of a relationship. Now that I am facing singleness and  beginning a new chapter in my life, the old patterns have surfaced. Wouldn't you know it, so has the addiction. I have been slightly dismissive of the knowledge that I am a love addict. It has been the topic of many a session with Debra, yet it didn't seem to be having much of an effect on me, or so I thought. I was, afterall, working heartily at overcoming the food and cigarette fix and doing my Twelve-Steps on co-dependency. I really did not embrace wanting to take on more. Debra had recommended some readings on this topic, however, and I appreciate Pia Mellody's work, Facing Love Addiction. The insight gained is so very valuable. Knowledge, it seems in and of itself, though, does not replace the need to confront and overcome the compulsive behavior. If that is all it took, I would not be struggling. And struggling I have been.

I'm writing here to reflect and share my recent experience. I do this as part of my efforts to stay in, or in this case return to, The Healing Lane. I acknowledge that with the recent high of feeling the connection (real or imagined) followed by the painful low of facing the reality of what I have been doing has prompted a temporary departure from The Lane. The unhealthy behavior has included nurturing a flood of thoughts and emotions in-congruent with the development of the relationship, hence imagining a relationship that is not yet a coupleship. It has included an onslaught of my texting without response; the imagined reciprocated feelings; what my dear friend refers to as "making a cake out of the crumbs I've been given." Even when I began seeing myself engaging in this, I didn't want to stop myself. 

Fortunately, I'm getting used to recognizing when I'm in that compulsive mindset, and that it leads to disaster. I commend myself for confronting the behavior before it got completely out-of-hand (I recognize that this is a relative statement, so out-of-hand by my standards). Although I avoided a head-on collision from my Lane departure, it brought with it shame and guilt. Those residues are lingering yet today. 

I am getting much better at resisting the urge to not act out in food or smoking, but the desire to do so still surfaces far too often. I want to remain humbled and to not take my sobriety for granted. Which is why I share this latest trial here - my on-line journal. I never know if my experiences resonate with others or not. My desire is that by being open, I provide an opportunity for discovery. Debra gave me the nicest compliment today along those lines; and that is being authentic is the most sincere form of vulnerability that one can exhibit. I have chosen to stay in the fight; the fight for my health, serenity, and relationships. I renew my commitment to dare greatly by sharing my struggles. The arena is a place that one gets knocked around. So it seems fitting.

Bottom line - when I am in my addict mode, I am not authentic. I am hiding, medicating, seeking relief, avoiding, ... which is not genuine nor authentic. Being authentic and vulnerable is all about The Healing Lane, and I know that is where I want to be. 

Celebrating in The Lane

Time for some celebrating!

Thursday, September 19 marks my 200th day of no smoking! I have had many days when I wanted to smoke, but I have not had even one cigarette. Kudos, Sara! Compliments, congratulations, and chips are all being accepted. I can picture your applause as I sail along my Healing Lane, smiling, fragrant, blooming, happy. Thanks, by the way.

Friday, September 20 I attend my high school class reunion. I had planned on being a bit slimmer, but I realized a few weeks back that better than a slim body, is a healthy body, mind, and soul! I am that! I have worked on being healthy and it is paying off. My physical health is the best it has been in a very long time (all health reports are good!). I am emotionally on the mend and can honestly say I am loving myself.  I will show up as the authentic, happy, spunky, social, caring, compassionate, genuinely grateful me. I'm ok with who I am. That is worth celebrating indeed!

Saturday, September 21 I attend my cousin's wedding shower. Yes, that is a celebration in itself. It is worth noting here because I have missed so many of these family events. I moved from Iowa over 29 years ago, and I have missed a lot of family events. A whole generation has happened in my absence. This divorce marks a desire to stay connected to family in a new way. Or perhaps it is my middle-age. Again, I get to not only attend, but be the person that they remember. The Sara that was embracing her adulthood with open arms has returned. They remember her, and they will be happy to see her. It is truly a wonderful homecoming.

Sunday, September 22 I will finish my trip with my parents, my precious Sophia, and my best high school pal and friend. Talk about being surrounded in love! I will have seen my brother, his kids, extended family, classmates, friends, and my beloved Iowa. Sometimes the Healing Lane takes me places that are just pure joy. That is when I take note to pause, enjoy, and mark the memory with smells, sights, and sounds that I may recall at a later time. The Lane has more ahead, and most assuredly, there will be days I will need to recall this time.

Twenty-five Years

I am sitting here, the evening before my 25^th wedding anniversary, and can’t help but feel that I have been cheated out of the dream I had when I stood before the 200+ guests at my wedding. Part of that dream was celebrating my silver wedding anniversary. That is the time when life is supposed to start getting easier, having proven the testing of love and raised the children. In my marriage, we had talked of celebrating with a long-anticipated trip. Instead, we are in the midst of mediating our divorce and closing the books on 25 years of marriage. There is no celebration.

I am angry at not having a marriage that could endure and survive the trials of betrayal and addiction. I am painfully sad that I am now alone and facing this new season as a single person, just when I was preparing for the opportunities that open up when there are no children at home. And now with singleness I am fearful that I do not have the resources to maintain my current lifestyle. Yes, there is an absence of joy. It is a time to grieve my loss and to feel and express these emotions. Divorce is difficult, painful, death, and loss.

I wrestle with reconciling that indeed all these things are valid, and yet, I will still press onward and hold onto the new dream that this next season offers hope beyond what today’s feelings hold. They can co-exist. The devastation of divorce does not last forever. It will not always be this painful, but today it just is. I realize it isn’t missing the person as much as allowing the death of the dream of growing old together; of being together until death do us part. I hadn’t realized that the death that do us part was the death of the marriage. My friend Erma reminded me that although the marriage failed, neither of us are failures. Sometimes it still feels like that, though. This is why I keep pressing onward in The Healing Lane. I have needed to accept that I alone cannot save a marriage. I alone am not responsible for making the marriage work. I alone am not responsible for the success or failure of it.

Sometimes being in The Lane is about acknowledging that I am powerless over the circumstances, yet have complete control over how I handle it. Handling it doesn’t imply that I have to do it perfectly or with a smile or without help. Staying in The Lane can simply be done by being honest and authentic with myself and my emotions and thoughts as they become apparent to me. I am doing just that, partially by sharing them here. It still is my 25^th wedding anniversary whether it is celebrated or not; I need to acknowledge that.

Sometimes it’s the Simple Things

I got a new car a couple of years ago and the key is much larger than those I had used previously. I didn't incorporate the key into my grouping of other keys, which included office keys, home keys, other car keys, and what I've come to realize recently, some keys to which I no longer use. So I've had two sets of keys to juggle: my car keys and my other keys. Yesterday I decided to move my office key and house key from the collection of miscellaneous keys and store fobs to the key ring with my car key. This simple little change has made my life so much easier! Go figure…for nearly two years I have been balancing two sets of keys along with the purse, water bottle, coffee/tea, computer bag, gym bag, food bag, meeting bag(s), and whatever else might be needed. I might be known for having an assortment of bags with me wherever I go.

I’m almost amused, although I’m still in a bit of disbelief that it has taken me so long to take action, that this one simple, less-than-a-minute task could make my life so much easier. I can’t help but chuckle at this image of me balancing all this stuff (ok, I don’t take all of that stuff every day – it is just an example of the many different things I may have) and also the juggling two sets of keys! It is rather absurd when I think about it.

This couldn't be a better metaphor of life in general, could it?! I have a lot of stuff I am toting around. My recovery bag, my nutrition bag, my work bag, my service bag, my family bag, my divorce bag, and the looming household bag.  Yet there I am trying to juggle not two sets of keys, but several sets! There are simple tasks that I could be doing to make my life easier. I am talking the super simple tasks. This is in both the physical realm and emotional realm. I am thinking about the few second efforts to put things away, removing the stuff from my car each night, and tossing out the junk mail the day it arrives. I acknowledge the simple things I am already doing, and so it is not a stretch to add a few more. In fact it could become rather habit forming, almost an application of self-care. 

There are emotional tasks that are simple as well, and yet have the same accumulative effect on me if gone unmonitored and allowed to build. What comes to mind is what I've been learning by allowing a feeling to pass through me. Surprising enough, even some of the most intense feelings last just 30-90 seconds if I just let them pass. Sometimes the simple thing is just to give over the thought and the emotional feeling with it to God – hence, release it. I can also write down the thought or feeling and put it into the God Box, which is to say that I am releasing it completely to God. Or acknowledge it in a journal, send a text, speak to myself or someone else. It is as if those emotional bags just get more and more cumbersome if I don't do some simple releasing. 

Simple tasks, simple lesson, and simply amazing how one key ring can make an impact. It shall remain my reminder that simple things can make a big difference. 

Loneliness, Being Alone, Isolation, Withdrawal, Solitude…NOT the Same Thing!

It seems like the last few months I have been on hyper-speed. It has been a bit of work to maintain lane control while so many things have been surfacing, yet there have been monumental breakthroughs. This last weekend, though, an amazing thing happened. The Lane took a turn and unbeknownst to me, a whole new scene appeared and I got to witness such magnificent beauty! The Healing Lane offered absolutely breathtaking views. The views were from within, and they were of me.

I decided to recognize my one year anniversary of being in recovery and the many efforts I've made by attending a workshop. I gave myself this reward. I went to Scottsdale to the Franciscan Renewal Center to be a participant in REAC²H (Restoring Embodied Awareness, Compassion, Connection, and Hope) which is a workshop on mindfulness led by Dr. Jon Caldwell. It was one of those times when God was at work orchestrating what I needed because it couldn't have been a better fit for me right now. I couldn't have scripted it better if I was in charge.

Let me first provide a context. Just a few weeks ago I was struggling with my compulsive urges – wanting to eat, smoke, drink, and spend – and was frustrated with myself. Debra suggested that I spend some time alone allowing myself to “just be”.  Let the thoughts come in, thoughts go out. Feelings in, feelings out. No food, drink, music, journal, or other distraction was to accompany my solitude. Me. Just be with me. She had noted my anxiety about being alone and wondered if I had really allowed myself to feel the loneliness. Her talking about it brought on anxiety. Not a loner. Never have been. So she recommended 10 minutes in a comfortable chair. She acknowledged that I might not make 10 minutes at first. I referred to this exercise as “the loneliness exercise”. I had forgotten that she spoke of mindfulness. My mind had been hijacked with the thought of being alone.

That night I moved right into the assignment, ready to face this fear of feeling and being alone. I settled into my patio chair, noting the time of 8:30pm, My thoughts began... “I’m good to go. Not bad…oh, look at the beautiful mountain. And isn't it rather serene out here…but awfully quiet. And alone. Oh, so alone.” The tears start to flow, increasing in intensity and amount. After a bit of that, I think, that should possibly do it. So I check the time: 8:31pm. I exaggerate not. That is being uncomfortable with myself, and that has been present for most parts of my life. I persevered for three more cycles of the being ok, crying, and then comforting. I did survive for 10 minutes, but I did not enjoy that exercise even those the awareness of this was a gift in itself. That experience was just a little over a month ago.

This past weekend I spent a lot of alone time. I stayed at the Renewal Center by myself. No TV, by the way. I went to a movie with myself. I also learned mindful meditation and the gift of solitude. I found that I can show myself some compassion. I discovered that I am not only ok with myself but that I am actually becoming comfortable in my own skin! On the last day, I wrote “I feel like I have found a new friend in myself.” I put this kind of transformation in the miracle department. That void I have wanted to fill isn't so empty. The me I’d been avoiding is now being welcomed…by me!

I suppose in a lot of ways, this is what I've been seeking all year. I’m not only showing fully function adult behavior but I’m learning my own worthiness and lovability. This change that had been in the works recently hadn't been quite recognized since I’d been so accustomed to my disdain for my failures, my body, and the thoughts that seemed to betray me. However, there were signs…the day before I left for the workshop I had written, “I feel like a bud ready to blossom.” God was indeed at work. That alone was a huge breakthrough! I have not only bloomed, but I can smell the fragrance of the blossom and see that it is beautiful. Now that is some recovery! I can hardly believe I’m even writing this, which is a good reason for me to do just that.

I've contemplated whether I should share this. It seems a little over-the-top and a departure from my usual sharing. I thought on this some more, including the reasons why I write this blog (for insight, reflection, and to chronicle my recovery journey). I endeavor to be authentic and genuine. This posting requires my being just as vulnerable, to dare greatly, and to feel just as deeply as I do when it is raw pain, guilt, shame, or anger. In some ways, I feel even more vulnerable because there seems to be an expectation about sharing the victories and the high notes. Perhaps it has been my exposure to the cynicism of those who are judgmental of those in healthy and happy spaces.  That cynicism, however, I can finally say is not about me. This blog is about me, The Healing Lane, and my journey, which has been a true joy ride this past week. 

Is that Some More Anger?

During my drive to work today I was doing a feelings check because I knew I was in a different place. I could identify sadness and both emotional and physical pain (I had a nasty fall last night) but there was more to it than that. And then I realized it: I felt anger. Anger? Really? That is different for me…to actually realize I had some anger? I wasn't sure about what and maybe it doesn't even matter. The breakthrough is that I recognized it and I didn't go about ignoring it. I knew I wanted to express it so I did what I know to do: I bought a bag of ice and planned some ice therapy.

It was an additional hour before I actually went about executing my call to ice throwing. I kind of let the feelings soak for a bit. The odd part is that I don’t have any specific memory or reason, but I’m just angry.  My anger feelings are so intertwined with pain and crying, I often have a lot of tears with my anger. Not today. I can feel the tears just below the surface – but this is for all the anger that hasn't been expressed and for the woman that stuffed her anger with food or smoked away her pain or sought out opportunities to avoid her reality. I believe today a lot of this anger is for the Sara of today – not just little Sara who didn't have a voice. It is for the voice of the present.

Throwing ice is the perfect anger release for me. Ice is hard and when it shatters it provides a certain kind of satisfaction quite suitable for anger release. It is also cold bringing an additional sensation to my body, and finally, there is no clean up (a big appeal). I've found that throwing the ice downward is the most rewarding. Today I used two hands and I gave it the full body throw. I’m just a step away from it counting as a workout, but it does count as temper tantrum (something that has been recommended to me in therapy).  I tried something else today. I took the end of the bag of ice and just pounded it against the wall.  I've had some difficulty with hitting or stomping, so this is another great advancement for me. Wow did that feel good. I see more of that in my future.

Now to the anger – the interesting part is I that I had no words.  Maybe they will come to me later today. I’m just angry. I don’t want to be going through this divorce, but I don’t want to be married to the addict either. I just want it to be over. I don’t want to be alone, but I want to be adult and responsible which requires my facing this separation anxiety (loneliness) and accepting that being alone is adult behavior. I don’t’ want to be fat, but it is work changing a lifetime of eating patterns and dealing with a body that has been negatively overworked for so long and is not healthy. Writing this down and reading it sounds like a pity party which makes me even madder! I believe it is more than just self-pity, though, it is facing the powerlessness of my past – that I can’t go back and change things.  I can only move forward.  I’m angry about being in this place when I have tried so hard to do the right things in my life. I don’t want to be in this place any longer. I’m stuck between my past and my future and it sucks. Well, for right now, at least. 

This moving forward takes a lot of effort.  I keep thinking it will ease up. There are days when I want to retreat. And by that, I mean self-indulge. And that means medicating which is also acting out. If not that, then isolate. All of these are about turning inward and a big departure from the Healing Lane.  I have made deliberate efforts to stay IN The Lane, so I have held to the vision of being healthy and adult. I remind myself of The Promises and rewards. It helps. I remind myself of my worth and what it will feel like to be on the other side. That requires me to stay in the present and to accept that it is what it is. I have choices, and I choose to keep pressing onward, and to stay in the Healing Lane.

So throwing some ice may not sound like much, but it is for me. It has kept me in The Lane and I’ve honored myself by expressing my feelings and given them a voice. 

A Full Perspective: The Recovery Lens

Perspective is an interesting meditation for me today. I have my high school best friend visiting me this week. Of course we are reminiscing and recalling events from our earlier lives. It has been good for me to remember what I was like in those pre-marriage days. Hearing her perspective has been helpful and interesting. Seeing my reflection in her eyes has given me some added dimension to my recovery. I find myself saying things like “Really? You saw me that way?” or “I don’t remember doing that!” Having her mirror me this way has surfaced a lot of memories and thoughts about myself. What a gift. I am so thankful.

However, this post is about perspective. I got to thinking about the different lens’ I have worn through the years. As a very young child, I imagine I mostly reflected what was modeled so maybe that could be called the parents lens. As I sought love and attention, I created a coping lens. Both of those were about looking at my life in the present at that time. I have likely brought some of those images with me into adulthood. When my dad was in his anger and rage phase, I had the victim lens. All problems were blamed on his anger. As I grew into a young adult, I focused on what I could be or do – with hope and optimism.

As an adult, the lens I use is how I view my past as well as the present. In retrospect, I moved from the victim lens to the “I’ll do it differently” lens. This is that “now that I’m an adult, I will do it my way and certainly not how my parents did things.” That lens shows some independence but also the shallowness of my one-sided thinking typical of the immaturity of that age. Later on, the lens that served me well over the years was the Pollyanna lens. That has been helpful to move from victim and martyr to optimism and thankfulness. That lens minimizes some of the pain and unresolved trauma, though, and it was the lens that I wore in looking at my childhood when entering therapy. Removing that lens was work.

This last year I got a new lens. Let’s just call it the recovery lens. It is the most diverse and magical lens. It has the ability to adapt and it has special filters. When needed, the focus is on family of origin. At other times, it is on the child within, or on setting and upholding boundaries. It has been needed to block out the Pollyanna stuff so that I can see how an issue has affected my behavior and not be confused with other issues or events. Having a filter hasn't been the easiest way to see life. Sometimes it seems one-dimensional since I have not been used to focusing on one part or layer of the picture, or one aspect of my life. It is kind of like suddenly seeing only blue tones. So I've been viewing blue tones, and at time just green tones, and others the red tones or purple tones, and those tough grey tones.  I have at times even applied a couple of tones at once.

Having my friend here has brought a new filter, shall we call them the yellow tones? Her perspective is raising some interesting questions I have for myself. It is causing me to dig a little deeper into my memory and recall some things that I buried or possibly just didn't ever consider. This filter is one I've not been able to do on my own because it is in her sharing her perspective as someone who knew me [well] at that time (and not a family member) that I have had my thoughts challenged a bit. I'm able now to start applying the other filters and an even truer image of my life.

I am ready to begin lifting the filters. It is good to see some of the depth and breadth and dimension to my life unfold after this last year of recovery. My ultimate desire is to have my perspective of my life be in full color! I don’t have to minimize or discount the pain and dysfunction, but I also appreciate and acknowledge the gifts and blessings that bring joy and gratitude. That is the beauty and value in this recovery lens; I can just apply the filter when I need it, and then lift it when I don't. There is such richness and clarity to seeing the whole picture now. I see details l missed before because of the appreciation and growth.

This lens is really going to help in creating The SaraCanvas! Now I'm prepping my brushes. Painting should commence soon. 

Learning to Love Myself

I am learning how to be compassionate, kind, and loving to myself. That sounds rather simple and obvious to my ears. The lesson has been a long one, and I find myself repeating old patterns and listening to my own put-downs. This is not good Healing Lane behavior. In fact, it is not healing at all.

My power hour on Monday revealed an interesting pattern of mine. After describing my behavior last Sunday to Debra, she said, “That’s the Karpman Drama Triangle.” And to that, I comment a rather dull, “Oh.” She catches on that I have no idea what that means. So I learn about the Victim – Rescuer – Persecutor Game. It is often between couples or in other relationships, but I play it out with myself!  

I recalled to her my crying in bed trying to comfort myself. Meanwhile hearing a different inner voice saying “You are never going to get this weight off. You know you should have planned better. This is your fault for not making better choices. Just get over it and eat what you want…” So essentially I was stroking myself with one hand and hitting myself with the other. I shall call this crazy-making. Hence, the need for some adjustment. Crazy-making is not Healing Lane behavior. The good news is that eventually I rescue myself and in this case, I got up and made a healthy meal. The triangle was complete. And I returned to active movement forward in The Healing Lane. Honk-honk!

I have been keen to the sensitivity that I have had, buried in the perspectives and pains by a little girl who very much wants to be loved and reassured that she is safe and worthy. This little Sara is precious. I am learning this and I can now say with confidence that I believe this. 

In a not just a coincidence event, I received a box from my mother which I opened last night. She included some pictures of me as a little girl. They are priceless because I SEE this little girl and I SEE how loveable she is! That is who I nurture within me. By loving her, I love myself. 

My Music Series: I’m Gonna Take That Mountain

Along about January (2013), I found a renewed resolve to pursue the deep healing of my brokenness. I discovered this song after hearing another of Reba's many apropos songs for the woman seeking empowerment (which I have been). That song - also worth a nod - is How Was I to Know.  This song, however, gives me that gutsy determination that I wanted then, and sometimes find myself wanting a new dose of courage and strong will. The heartache of a failed marriage doesn't heal quickly. This is not your ballad; this is your belt-it-out, country strong anthem. 

I’m Gonna Take That Mountain

Sung by Reba McIntire;  Lyrics by Jerry Salley and Melissa Ann Peirce

I was born a stubborn soul
Ain’t afraid of the great unknown
Or a winding road that’s all uphill
This is just a stumbling block
Intimidating wall of rock

If you think this broken heart will break my will

I’m gonna take that mountain
Ain’t nothing gonna slow me down
And there ain’t no way around it
Gonna leave it level with the ground
Ain’t just gonna cross it, climb it, fight it
I’m gonna take that mountain

It’s overwhelming looking up
I know when it’s the challenge of -
Me against this heartache to survive
I may slip and I may fall
But even if I have to crawl
I’ll break through to the healing side

I’m gonna take that mountain
Ain’t nothing gonna slow me down
And there ain’t no way around it
Gonna leave it level with the ground
Ain’t just gonna cross it, climb it, fight it
I’m gonna take that mountain

When I think of "that mountain" I think about the pains of heartache, The key line is "I'll break through to the healing side." Now that could be the motto for The Healing Lane. I have been told that I have faced my pain, even leaning into it, while seeking my healing. This song couldn't express it any clearer for me. For many long years I stared at that mountain and once I decided to take it, I have not withered from that goal. I know "I may slip and I may fall, but even if I have to crawl..." I will not give up, and I will stay in The Healing Lane. 

My Music Series: I Don’t Paint Myself into Corners Anymore

I selected this next song as a tribute to the awareness awakening in me. Trisha Yearwood has provided me with several songs for my playlist (including For a While, Gimme the Good Stuff, and Second Chance) but this one best represents the reality of dealing with my codependency and love addiction. That is what recovery is really about, isn't it?! When I stopped being consumed with the other side of the street or the victimization or martyrdom or whatever my co-dependent flavor of the season was but focused on the power of my actions and my choices and my reality – now that is making time in The Lane! This song provided me with something to sing while I mustered the will and energy to do just that.

I Don’t Paint Myself into Corners Anymore

Sung by Trisha Yearwood (By Rebecca Lynn Howard/Trey Bruce)

It took a while for me to see things as they were
In the light of truth
It wasn't you, it was me
I let myself get used to drowning in the hurt
Against the wall
Who'd of thought, it was me
From there I couldn't even look over my shoulder
I kicked down all the walls and started all over.

And I don't paint myself into corners anymore
In a brittle heart of clay
I threw my brushes away
The tools of the trade that chained your memory to me
Are out the door
I don't paint myself into corners anymore.

When you left you left me with no other choice at all
But to sink
To my knees, and cry
I never knew just how far a soul could fall
Like a rock
I couldn't stop, didn't try
I locked myself behind shades of misery
But when I let you go, I set myself free.

And I don't paint myself into corners anymore
In a brittle heart of clay
I threw my brushes away
The tools of the trade that chained your memory to me
Are out the door
I don't paint myself into corners anymore.

I haven’t addressed my love addiction with the same vigor as my co-dependency, but this song speaks directly to it. I think this song had that added appeal because I recognize that this is an issue of mine (staying in a troubled marriage for 24 years is a big indication).  Trisha sings this so powerfully by giving both the pain and strength that the lyrics express. I think this honesty is what beckons me to belt the tune out whenever it plays. That pain and strength are stirred within me and both demand to be expressed. Over these months I can say there has been a definite transition to more strength and less pain.  I think it is because I don’t paint myself into corners anymore!

Making a Difference

I read a biography on Helen Keller when I was 9 years old. I was amazed with her life's story and how she overcame her circumstances. I was so enchanted by her life that I taught myself the alphabet in sign language – whatever was provided in the book – and studied Braille for a time. It was a biography written for someone in grade school, so the book focused on her early life.  I recall thinking about what it would be like to not see with my eyes or not hear the sounds and voices. To not have either was beyond my comprehension and yet her story now intersected with mine. It really made an impact on my young mind.  I had forgotten just how much of an impact it so I am struck today by this memory because I realize that some of the shaping of my identity has been influenced by her's and other stories of many such women.

I started reading biographies about all kinds of women.  It became one of my favorite pastimes.  From this I turned my attention into school projects mostly focused on the accomplishments of women.  In high school I became especially interested in the suffragette movement. I expanded my focus in college to a wider interest in women’s studies. I took so many courses in the department that I qualified for a minor and it was a nice compliment to my Middle East studies major and history emphasis. Or maybe not, but that doesn't matter anyway, it's just another piece to the Sara puzzle.

I think what perhaps is significant today is that I am remembering how much influence my studying women and their accomplishments have had in my thinking. I respected the women who shaped history in some fashion – little or big – and made a difference in their worlds. I don’t recall thinking I would or could change the world, but that I would do my best in my world.  I suppose I did think of myself as a feminist, but I don’t think that label is what I’m recalling. It is more of the intention of making a difference, or being one’s best, or maybe just being an overcomer. I wanted to be that kind of woman. And I knew in my heart that I would be. Even in the depths of the pain and loneliness of my marriage I sought out Biblical examples of women who could speak to my heart about making a difference in their worlds. The two that have become most endearing to me are Leah because she endured so much rejection and Abigail because she chose to do the right thing.

Somewhere along the way, I lost track of that dream. It withered with the loss of my authenticity. Today it has resurfaced. It didn't appear with trumpets and noisemakers. It sort of just bubbled to the surface. Go figure. There is was. I was reading some inspirational quotes and there were several by Helen Keller. A memory returned. And there in those thoughts was my childhood notion of who I would be.

What is most remarkable to me is that today I know that I will make a difference. I don’t know how, and that part doesn't matter. I know I will make a difference because I am different than I was a year ago. I am living authentically and daring greatly, and I am willing and open to whatever divine plans there are for me. I think that is enough. Actually, I know it is enough. A very smart woman asked me recently (ok, it is Debra), "Are you open for greatness?" I was a bit wimpy with my response. She continued with "I didn't say you needed to be great, just open for greatness, because that is all it takes." I'm still a bit shy of embracing greatness, but I am fully accepting of making a difference. Perhaps they are one in the same. There is something that is rather comfortable about becoming healthy, and I think it is called acceptance. 

I sure like these new scenic views in The Healing Lane, and for this, I am grateful. 

My Music Series: The Other Side

The third song I want to share in my June music series is sung by Wynonna. I discovered it last fall and immediately it resonated with me. It was during the time that followed the initial freedom state and then the reality state  and this was the beginning of the hopeful state. This is when I started to think beyond the immediate freedom and pain but to a time when I would be healthy in mind, body, soul, and spirit. In a lot of ways the lyrics speak for themselves:

The Other Side sung by Wynonna on ”The Other Side” EP

Written by Kevin Stephen Welch

So, you’re at the end of your wits, end of your rope

Just can’t fix everything that’s broke

Gotta turn it loose, babe, let it ride

‘Cause it aint about pride now, aint about guilt

Just come to a bridge that you still aint built

Sit down here with me, I’ll tell you bout the other side

The other side of loneliness, the other side of the blues

There really is a place like this where the sun is gonna shine for you

You’ll feel that old restlessness, your tears have all been cried

You’ll find your way over this and you’ll make it to the other side

Life gets hard, life gets cold

No matter who you are, gonna settle on your soul

There comes a time when you go looking for a place to hide

But one of these days you’re gonna lift up your head

Whistle up those hell hounds of yours and sit up and make them beg

That’s when you’ll be ready, ready for the other side

The other side of loneliness, the other side of the blues

There really is a place like this where the sun is gonna shine for you

You’ll feel that old restlessness, your tears have all been cried

You’ll find your way over this and you’ll make it to the other side

I’m reminded of this song tonight because I am working on a writing exercise that has me looking at my past, present, and future. It was very revealing to me as it has stirred up a lot of feelings about the loss in my marriage. I actually had some raw, honest feelings of anger and pain tonight. It was uncomfortable and exhausting to release them. I have learned that this is what needs to happen, though. I need to give a voice to those feelings. And so I did. It felt very much like bridge building. I clearly want to get to the other side which is about living beyond the loneliness and the blues. It has become about believing in myself, in the process, and in the life I can have and deserve. It is worth building this bridge. It is work, it isn't a magical bridge that just appears. To get the bridge built, I need to see where I want to go – a place that is better than this side. I see it. I like it. I want it.

 I hadn't realized that there were bridges in The Healing Lane, but of course there are! 

My Music Series: A Little Bit Stronger

The next song in my music series is A Little Bit Stronger sung by Sara Evans and written by Hillary Dawn Scott, Hillary Lindsey and Luke Laird. It represents the group of songs that I added in the next stage of my journey. After the euphoria of feeling free wore off, the reality of what I was facing sunk in rather heavily. Accepting the dysfunction and codependency while dealing  with the wounds of the relationship were now daily challenges for me. I found myself doing a lot of retracing my life creating a not-so-happy memoir. I had 24 years of bad habits and accommodating; I had lost myself in an effort to be for someone else. I had a lot of regrets and displeasure with myself. I heard this song and it became my anthem for a time. 

A Little Bit Stronger

Woke up late today and I still feel the sting of the painBut I brushed my teeth anywayI got dressed through the mess and put a smile on my faceI got a little bit stronger
Riding in the car to work and I'm trying to ignore the hurtSo I turned on the radio, stupid song made me think of youI listened to it for minute but I changed itI'm getting a little bit stronger, just a little bit stronger
And I'm done hoping that we could work it outI'm done with how it feels, spinning my wheelsLetting you drag my heart aroundAnd, oh, I'm done thinking that you could ever change
I know my heart will never be the sameBut I'm telling myself I'll be okayEven on my weakest daysI get a little bit stronger
Doesn't happen overnight but you turn aroundAnd a month's gone by and you realize you haven't criedI'm not giving you a hour or a second or another minute longerI'm busy getting stronger

As I look back now at that time and recall having many of the feelings mentioned in this song, I remember thinking I AM getting a little bit stronger (thank, heavens!). I AM done hoping we can work it out. I AM done with how it feels spinning my wheels! It took a very long time to get to the point that I AM DONE but I was there. I agreed that it doesn't happen overnight - neither the hopeLESSness that sets it, or the hopeFULLness that can come. This is also when the realization that I am making changes and that I have choices really started to become a part of my thinking. My empowerment was returning. It had been a long time since I felt in charge of my life, or at least to this extent. I had handed over so many of my choices to Tony; I had relinquished so much of my will and vision. BUT, I was getting stronger, a little bit at a time. 

My Music Series: Uncaged

I am designating June my music month. I was recently listening to my “Healing” playlist and I was recalling the importance that music has had in my recovery. I will be featuring a different song each posting and the impact it has had in my thoughts, feelings, and behaviors. I endeavor to pick songs in a somewhat chronological order. I’m not including every song on my list, but those which represent my recovery at the time they were added.

Last July Tony and I separated. The day that he moved out was very surreal for me, and I had a lot of anger and pain around the way the separation happened. It took some time to adjust to my new life. That is when I sought therapy and found Debra who encouraged me to attend the recovery group for codependents. I found the support I needed and my new life started to have a peace about it; this was very needed. The feeling that prevailed for me in those weeks was freedom. There had been an oppressive spirit in my home for a very long time. It was a type of bondage that kept me from being authentically me. Perhaps this is why I am so committed to being authentic now.

I had purchased Zac Brown’s Uncaged EP and enjoyed every song. The one song that initially was a bit much for me (my least favorite) ended up becoming my favorite.  That's so true of many things in life, btw.  I've learned to be less harsh and definitive in my judgments and opinions for this reason. When I really listened to the lyrics, there was something strong that resonated with me. The rhythm builds in momentum and I have this heart-bursting-through feeling that coincides with the crescendo within the song. I feel like the caged bird coming forth, no longer constrained by the walls confining her. 

Uncaged by Zac Brown

Gonna drift to the great wide open

Gonna set my spirit free

Won’t stop til I reach the ocean

Gonna break these chains holding me

Uncaged

Gonna swim in the coldest river

Gonna drink from a mountain spring

Deep in the land of the great wide open

And let the water roll all over me

Uncaged

I wanna swim in the sunshine

And every day find a way to face my fears

I wanna get in the wind

Gonna take every chance I’m given

Feel the wind through the open plains

Freedom is gift, get given

So chase the sunset highway down

You gotta get uncaged

I can’t count the number of times I played that song. It is as if my soul had broken free from the years of hopelessness and I had such a new lease on life. I started dreaming again. I started living again. The frozen feelings that had become a part of me started to melt. I was coming out of a bleak fog that had settled into my home, into my life, and which I had allowed to discolor my vision and purpose.

I was now experiencing the exuberance for life. I wasn't sure what the next months would have in store for me, but for the time being I embraced the life that had just been given to me. I was dreaming again and wanted to feel from the depths of my soul. I'm Gonna take every chance I'm given...freedom is a gift, get given!

The Rewards of Recovery Work

I had a glorious weekend. I am grateful, joyful, and healthier because of the people with whom I spent the weekend meeting, talking, befriending, and praying. I learned a lot about recovery - there were workshops and speakers, meetings and more meetings, and there were conversations. It is the conversations that tend to have the lasting effect on me. A one-on-one or within a small group, there is an opportunity to speak and share honestly about a situation or issue. I tend to share more about my story, and to hear about another's. It is that time where intimacy is created and the authentic me is seen. 

I crave this kind of relationship, and I have been fortunate to usually have this in my life. I reflect on those women who are part of my story, who knew me best during different stages of my life. Childhood friends share in the discovery of everything from boys to independence. High school friends share in the memories of testing that independence, discovering our interests and ourselves outside of our families, and creating memories unique to those years. In college, I was fortunate to have close friendships in my roommates and my classmates, and the memories abound from those adult-developing years. 

It is during college that I met Tony. Life changed dramatically, and the friendship-forming changed just as much. I didn't become best friends with my husband. I so envied the relationships that had that kind of bond. I knew he did not confide in me nor was he completely honest with me. I say that now, but remained in denial for many years to this truth. I withdrew into myself for I had neither the intimacy of my husband to replace the closeness of my girlfriends, nor the liberty to have the same kind of bond with women that I had prior to being married. That hole and conflict plagued me most of my marriage. 

Today I am at a different and new place. I am feeling freed to truly be me, to nurture who God created me to be, and to express the authentic me. I have been fighting for that Sara for a long time. There was so much pain yet so much numbness that allowing her to truly come forth was too much of a risk. This is where daring greatly has had so much impact on me. I am getting more confident in taking risks, showing myself with all its flaws, and willing to face rejection in my relationships. My joy is returning. 

For that joy to be uninhibited, I am also uncovering that which has been ensnaring it. That includes the pains and fears of previous rejection, isolation, and even anger. To get to the joy, I've got to be willing to forge through those issues, memories, and stored up feelings. This is what we just call "work" in recovery. I've been working. I'm glad that I have many cheerleaders who support me day in and out, and those who truly care and love me. It helps so very much. 

I review my life over the past ten months and the changes that have happened. There are many. I am most thankful for the return of close relationships and the intimacy I freely share. My heart seems to have an unlimited capacity for this now. I never imagined that I could love so many, and be loved so greatly in return. This is the reward for this hard work. And it is worth every tear, every fear confronted, and every difficult moment when I thought I couldn't get past it. I write this to remind myself when I need it, for the work is not over. But neither are the rewards. 

The Lonely Survive

Recovery is not linear. I repeat this for myself: recovery is not linear. To remain in the Healing Lane, I aim to keep moving forward, but even that doesn’t always happen. I am learning to accept that this is OK. Tonight’s meeting was on the topic of acceptance. I am reflecting on that again as this is what keeps surfacing today. I am accepting that life as I envisioned it isn’t going to happen. Life as I envisioned it even today may or may not happen. It is what it is. My feelings are what they are. My experiences are mine, and whether I react to, relate to, respond to, or resent them are my choices.

I am still facing loneliness. It is a major issue in my life right now.  I am discovering that some of my deepest issues are rooted in my sense of loneliness, and related to that is a low self-worth that says “I am unlovable.” Seeing this statement in writing doesn’t make sense. Of course I wouldn’t believe that! To know me is to love me, right?! Yet, my body reveals a different truth. It speaks rather loudly when I listen. I am learning to not ignore the tightness in my chest, the tears, and the near panic when those symptoms settle in on me. It is bothering me that I have not been able to overcome this on my own. It is even upsetting me that I am finding myself writing on this topic, not once or twice today, but this makes it a third time! I think to myself, “just get over it!” And that reveals to me another problem in finding a solution. I am endeavoring to do this all on my own. I have not trusted God to sustain me. I am very much seeking to be gentle to myself, to remind myself of His goodness and love, and to allow His Spirit to be the Comforter. It is habit, a bad one at that, to be harsh and unkind in my thoughts. The “just get over it” thinking is actually preventing me from doing that!

I write about this because one of my best tools is expressing my thoughts onto the page, and then releasing them through my blog, journal, or letter. I realized tonight that it has been almost two weeks since my last posting and I am seeing the correlation to some of my relapses. I have not been utilizing one of my greatest tools! So I sit here at my computer tonight, thinking about so many things in my life. My mind wanders some more, and I am aware of being alone, but less ‘lonely’ than when I started this posting. I have been reminded that I am not alone; that I have a loving God, I have a tremendous support network, and I have myself. I am learning to be better company to me for I am lovable and I can love myself. 

Pushing the Re-start Button

Someone wise has said to me that we can always push the re-start button. I am doing that this morning. I am aware that I am not where I want to be and the only way to get out of this place is to make the next right choice. I've had a lot of contemplative time lately, and this in itself is OK.  What I have noticed is that I have given up some of my grounding routines. The main one has been my morning meditations. It used to be something I loved and never missed each morning. Since giving up smoking 10 weeks ago, I just haven’t had the same drive or commitment to that time. It was the whole package – the coffee, the view, the reading and meditating, and the cigarette. It is still too difficult without the cig, so I don’t start my day the same way. Yet I miss it. And the meditative part was the grounding part. I am definitely needing that. 

I didn't re-start that routine though. Today's re-start button is about my eating and my mind set. I have re-gained the 10 pounds I lost not long ago. This will be the fourth time I have had to lose this same 10 pounds. So this gain has brought a lot of guilt and anger. This would not be the healthy anger to which I have needed to release. Oh, no, this is the turn-on-myself stuff that is self-defeating – and definitely not behavior in the Healing Lane. This weight gain is what it is, and I have choices to stay in this cycle or not. Hence, re-start. What other healthy choices do I have? Call it whatever you want – the point is that change is a decision, and the choice is mine. The Healing Lane is about adult behaviors, and that is where I want to be. Negative self-talk, self-defeating behaviors, self-pity...these will not get me where I want to go.

What is really amazing to me is who modeled being a FFA yesterday: my 21-year old son. He continues to make choices that represent such maturity and balance, while being such a pleasant, compassionate, and thoughtful person. For Mother’s Day I was feeling quite isolationist and didn't want to do much. Will came to the house to make me brunch (it was delicious!), spend time with me, and make my day special. After brunch, I took a nap and he then not only cleaned the kitchen but did several housecleaning and upkeep chores to bless me. To top things off, I got the sweetest, most endearing, from-the-heart card that he made for me. He makes this woman one proud mama, and I believe one day he will make another woman a very happy wife and mother.

So on this May Monday morning, I realize that I am faced with the same opportunity I am every day – what do I do today that is building self-esteem through loving and nurturing myself? I used to think that was rather selfish and self-absorbing. I am learning differently, as Will so wonderfully illustrates in the way he lives his life. He makes decisions for his own best and long-term interest, and with this he is able to give to, be, and do for others with a calmness, confidence, and compassion that are not about his getting back. I don’t think it is an accident that he has these qualities; I will accept that I have had something to do with his character-building, as has his father. 

What I was willing to do in parenting Will, I am now seeing that I can do for myself.  How appropriate to realize this the day after a day we celebrate mothers. 

A Little Anger Do Me Good

I’m in a different place lately. I've referred to this in several of my blog postings. It’s that in-between state. I am experiencing some significant breakthroughs and yet I am recognizing some old behaviors becoming common. I’m nervous and hyper-aware of past failures, and I am fighting negative self-talk more than I have had to for a long time. Physically I do not feel good and this is affecting my overall sense of wellness. I don’t feel well because I have been eating too much of the wrong foods, even those that I find acceptable in moderation. Out of moderation, it becomes another form of acting out. And acting out is a sign of a deeper issue.  Aha, now we are getting somewhere. So what issues am I facing these days?

It’s the one that I have been avoiding, intentionally or unintentionally, for many months. It’s the one that either doesn't surface in my own feelings check or when it does, is so powerful it just about paralyzes me. It’s the emotion that ran unchecked and out of control in my childhood home, yet has haunted me in ways I handle it both outwardly and inwardly. I am talking about anger. Yes, it is a core issue for me. This week I learned just how painful it is to harbor this. I have learned that I started stuffing my anger at an early age, not wanting to voice it for fear of not being loved. This was a belief I likely made up for myself based on what I witnessed in watching my father and brother and the judgment I had about their behaviors. It really doesn't matter how it got there, more importantly it matters that the anger get expressed, released, and to know that life will not fall apart because I have gotten angry! It sounds kind of pitiful to me – what’s the big deal about getting angry, anyway? I’m learning that minimizing my own pain and struggles are just more obstacles to overcome in reaching the healing and health I desire. I’m willing to lean in and face whatever I need to do in order to stay in the Healing Lane.

I dared greatly tonight. I have been working all week on understanding and confronting my hesitation over allowing my repressed anger to be expressed. I realized a lot of it is really old anger, and that with it was the belief – which is an out and out lie, by the way – that should I show that anger I am unlovable. And to be unlovable is to not receive love. To not receive love is to not matter, to be worthless, expendable, and void. But I was reminded that I do matter and that to give voice to the little Sara is to validate her, to love and comfort her, and to show her that even anger is ok. I knew I needed to let out some of this anger, to trust the process, to dare greatly, and to believe God to sustain me in whatever scary and painful situation I find myself in.

Therefore, I ventured into the world of “Ice Therapy.” OK, it isn't perhaps called that, but for me it deserves some capitals. Debra suggested a few different avenues for releasing that anger, including throwing ice because it will make a crushing noise, provide a release for the anger, and there is no clean up. Good idea. A friend totally endorsed the method having gone through a similar breakthrough herself. The purchase of sixty pounds of ice was secured and I was able to vent a bit of anger tonight. It was different than the hoe incident, but very effective. I threw ice at the brick wall, at the cement, for the loss of my marriage, for the little girl who fought for attention, and for just the right to be angry. I probably just tapped the surface, but I am able to say I do not fear “going there” anymore. And when a bit of anger surfaces again, that is something I can take to the ice bank.

It has been a significant day in the Healing Lane, and I am truly thankful.

This, My Friend, is Life

“Life happens.” I’m thinking about a similar comment from yesterday’s session with Debra. I was reflecting on my very busy week and all that happened. It was a packed eventful week, and as such I made reference to it being a hard week. I reminded her of the significance of last week’s session, the first edition of the newsletter I now edit being released, traveling to New Orleans and returning directly to go to Prescott, not to mention adjusting to Sophia’s departure. She asked for what reason was it “hard.” I said that it just seemed so…mainly because I was busy and I didn't have time to process the very revealing and intense session from Monday; I had a work deadline that required my focus; I had to pack for back to back trips; the emotional dealings with each of those trips…it was a lot. And so goes…”this is life.” Essentially I repeated myself. It was kind of a "don't you get it?"

Well, II’m getting it...now. I'm able to see things a little more clearly when I look through the FFA lens. There is a balance and a perspective to life's events. I didn't feel particularly dramatic about the week nor my retelling of its details, but I was keenly aware of the lack of time to absorb the impact from one thing before moving onto the next. Ok, so perhaps I was displaying some drama since I do have a flair for that. After all, it is what it is, and I yam what I yam. Some things do demand attention, and I had several things that were screaming “attention, Sara” to me. So maybe “hard” isn't the word; it is rather, significant.” Yes, I accept that I had a rather significant week.

I’m still catching up: my body wants rest; my thoughts are scattered; my emotions are mixed. And, this, Sara, is life. Welcome to yours.