My Childhood Pain

It didn't take long for my healthy amazing-breakthrough-over-the-weekend adult to beckon from within for deeper healing. That is just my way of saying, Tuesday was a slam. I had gone to bed with such peace and contentment from the memories and connection over the past few days. I woke to a startling awareness of some shame messages in my head (one in particular caught my attention: “I am a piece of crap”). I didn't dwell on them, but knew I should journal my thoughts as I have learned that this is a helpful way for me to process things. It didn't take long before I had a flood of memories pouring onto the pages regarding my childhood. It was if a screen had been lifted and I was aware of the amount of pain I had as a child. I was remembering a lot of chaos due to the anger, often in rage, created around and mostly by father.

I had recently been thinking about the disconnect to my early childhood. I have held onto the happiness of my childhood, only allowing the pleasant memories to be recalled with any clarity. I could reference to a degree some yelling by my father, and a level of anger and unhappiness. But all in all, I felt that I had a very healthy childhood. However, I say this fairly often: “the physical facts are saying something else.” I acknowledged that there was an imbalance of my adult behaviors and codependency to my childhood recollection as to the amount of dysfunction there was in my family. I knew there were some missing pieces, I just didn't feel like “digging” and so I accepted that the memories will come when they come.

And they came yesterday morning, and with this memory floodgate was a lot of emotional pain for the little girl who watched her father’s outrage at her mother, her brothers, and herself.  I remembered spending a lot of time crying in my room, and distraught over the uncertainty of my life. I remembered witnessing and experiencing some physical abuse, and a lot of yelling. Little Sara needed comforting. With these memories were a downpour of tears and lament. It is the kind of crying that is to be released and expressed, not suppressed.   

It soon became evident that I needed to take the day off from work. So I reached into my tool bag of good recovery behaviors and reached out to connect with a friend. Actually, to several. And behold, I came up empty-handed, at least for the time being. I received caring responses but everyone I contacted was unavailable to meet with me. I knew it was God directing me to deal with this head-on and he wanted me to know that I was not alone. I just needed to be – to allow the tears to flow, to feel the pain, to comfort my inner child, and to allow God to comfort me. So that is what I did, and I certainly felt the pain lessen.

After a time, I started walking around the track at the park where I had settled. It helped me transition from comforting Little Sara to acceptance and moving on. After the park, I went to lunch with a dear friend who gave me much welcomed feedback and then I topped off my day with a relaxing massage at Indigo Oasis (yes, a plug for my friend’s spa). Ahhh, self-care – a wonderful tool!

I believe I managed to stay in the Healing Lane in spite of it feeling so vastly painful. I was pleased to talk with Debra late in the day and was able to process a bit about the recollections from my childhood and the feelings that surfaced. I wanted to know what healthy behavior looks like in these situations. She said that although it seems counter-intuitive, doing what I was doing by allowing the feelings to be expressed was it; seeking to medicate though alcohol, drugs, gambling, sex, and the like was not it. I passed; or perhaps better put: I maintained lane control! Honk-honk!! She encouraged me to continue to comfort my Little Sara, which I did. As I nodded off to sleep with Ducky tucked in my arms (a recommendation to comfort the inner child) peace was there once again. Quite a day, and whew, this recovery journey is quite a ride. 

Free to Be

One of the tools that is frequently mentioned in recovery is the need for self-care. I recognize that this can take the form of anything from taking a walk or a relaxing bath, to going to a movie. This last weekend I practiced self-care through a 24 hour disengagement from my life by retreating to friends’ home outside of Tucson. Our busy lives rarely afford much time together, so I was happy to have this extended time with them. There was no need for TV, radio, or internet.  We just soaked, interacted face to face, heart to heart. We shared deeply, crying and laughing as we were moved. We were free to be honest and open, each of us showing empathy and compassion as well as laughter as we exposed our vulnerable times in life (including now). It was emotional intimacy at its simplest and grandest levels.

On my drive home, I evaluated my visit. Did I manage to stay in the Healthy Lane? Was I exhibiting co-dependent behaviors? How about my boundaries? At times, I was drifting near the edge of my Lane, but mostly, I related in a healthy way. My best gauge was realizing that I wasn't leaving “drained” as I might have in the past after so much shared vulnerability and deep, often painful sharing.  Instead, I left renewed and refreshed. I hadn't crossed over into “fixing” or “rescuing” or controlling, or taking on another’s pain. What wonderful awareness and experience! I have joy for not only the time away, but knowing I am growing up!

The context for my seeing these dear friends was wanting some insight regarding singleness in life after divorce.  I was able to share my own insecurities about the next stages of my life – the uncertainty of being alone, managing a large house, and handling all of the financial responsibilities. My respect and appreciation for each of them has grown exponentially as I relate now to seeing what they have overcome, yet exhibit such joy, peace, stability, and compassion for others. Their honesty about their struggles allowed me to even further appreciate their current lives and how they exhibit such humble courage and strength.  I received a lot of encouragement and understanding for what I am facing, as well as an unspoken acknowledgement that my choices will dictate my journey.

This Monday morning I continue to reflect on my time away. I am thankful for so very much. The gift of friendship resonates overall, but with that I can draw upon what healthy relationships look and feel like. I see my progress, my growth, and my own worth. Recovery is a process, and it is so nice to (finally?!) see some of it!

Poem for Everyone

I will present you

parts

of

my

self

slowly

if you are patient and tender.

I will open drawers

that stay mostly closed

and bring out places and people and things

sounds and smells, loves and frustrations, hopes, and

sadnesses

bits and pieces of three decades of life

that have been grabbed off

in chunks

and found lying in my hands.

They have eaten

their way into my memory,

carved their way into

my heart.

altogether-you or I will never see them.

They are me.

If you regard them lightly,

deny that they are important

or worse, judge them

I will quietly, slowly

begin to wrap them up,

in small pieces of velvet,

like worn silver and gold jewelry,

tuck them away in a small wooden chest of drawers

and close.

John T. Wood

Taking Care to Care

The talk around here yesterday and today is about the desert snow! Tucson has received its official “blizzard” and for all of us around here, this is a real memory-maker. I have been remembering my childhood excitement of having a snow day and being able to take a “free day” from school. Weekend snow days weren't welcome, though; who wants a free day on an already declared free day? No, the thrill comes from it occurring on a school day.  It felt like an all day recess pass, which might include some board games or daytime television. There were only a few stations and you soon discovered that the TV choices were pretty limited to game shows, soap operas, and reruns. 

So after becoming bored with TV and games, we might venture out to the snow to go sledding, build a snowman, or have a snowball fight.  My earliest memories of sledding are of loving the thrill and adventure, but this is tainted with my being the one who fell off the sled and/or got hurt. That puts a real damper on the fun, both for me and my brothers because it required going back to the house or stopping the fun to tend to me. It became apparent that it was better to stay safe inside or just stand by and watch (that isn't much fun especially since it is cold . I started doing things like preparing the hot chocolate for the neighborhood kids to have when they got too tired, cold, and hungry. Thinking about it now, how co-dependent of me!  I wanted to belong and be a part of the fun, but I removed myself because I was feeling inept and unsuitable. How coping of little Sara to figure out what to do to still belong or at least get acceptance and love – after all, these are still among my most driving forces. No surprise that the soul soon figured out what to do to appease and please. Caring, caretaking, and caregiving are deep in my tissue.

The lesson I’m trying to learn about caring is when care shifts from giving to taking. That is the essence in my determining whether I'm in the Healthy Lane or not in this area. The caretaking is about me – getting what I need or want. Maybe that is acceptance and love, or to control the situation, or to avoid conflict. When I take care in my giving, it is truly about the other person. It is not about my needs but another’s.  I see how both caregiving and caretaking are evident in my life.  With my attuned awareness of falling into the ditch of caretaking, I can now step back from the situation to examine whether I am seeking approval and love for me, or if I am coming from a grounded place and acting out of compassion and love for the other.  

Melody Beattie’s works have helped me with understanding the difference.  If my goal of being grounded, balanced, and centered is off – and she asserts that co-dependents are among the most caring people – then I am probably falling into co-dependent behavior. That is when I can make an adjustment in my thoughts and behaviors.  I’m working on giving myself some slack about this. It has become apparent that the caretaking tendency is fairly deep in my life patterns and it is a default behavior for me since it has worked pretty well much of my life (meaning I got acceptance and love or approval). Sometimes the behavior really looks the same. Making hot chocolate for the neighborhood kids is a kind thing to do! I’m not criticizing myself over doing this, I’m just looking at things with a new lens. Caretaking can take me down a destructive path if I become resentful to the other for not giving me what I want. This certainly happened within my marriage. My caretaking didn't produce the love and acceptance from my husband that I desperately wanted, and so I kept adjusting my behaviors to get what I sought from him. It became quite the crazy cycle as I continued to do more to get his approval and he gave me less and less of it! I finally stopped seeking his approval, and focused on my own value and worth. This change has required my taking an honest look at my part in the craziness.

I have another realization from revisiting these snow day memories: the sadness that I see in little Sara. I missed out on some fun (the pattern showed up in other activities as well), but it isn't too late! One precious gift of pressing into my recovery is learning the joy in the journey. That journey can include taking care to make up for missed opportunities.  I’m learning to dare greatly, and that just may include a sled ride or some other kind of adventure. And I don’t need to wait for a snow day; all days are God’s free gift, and ours to enjoy.

My Monday Battle

I am feeling raw, unzipped, and vulnerable. It would be nice if I could save up my energy and strength from the good and courageous days to use on the tough ones , like Mondays often are. It doesn't really work that way, meaning there are up days and there are down days. I can draw upon the strength that I have from that which I have built from the progress thus far. But there are no reserves to miraculously apply as a balancing formula. For instance, there are days when I feel like I am really "getting" it and maybe I am on the other side. I am coasting along in my Lane and life is looking and feeling great! And then, another rough patch and the "what the heck" thoughts return and I feel like I'm doing all I can to not regress, not lose ground. Hence the ups and downs are not just a metaphor; they are real. We don't get to average them out and avoid the roller coaster ride. Today is just one of those days I repeat to myself "it is what it is" and force my thoughts to recall the progress I have made, to remember "this too shall pass", and to stay thankful.

Mondays are long. I work a full day, go to therapy, and then have a break before going to support group. I anticipate these days, but they are often hard emotionally, and even physically. I want to get all I can out of the hour of power with Debra so I purposely prepare for it. I am invested in wanting and seeking a healthy life, and I covet all that I can from therapy. But let's be real - therapy isn't for sissies. I want the insight and feedback from my therapist, so every week, I prepare by reviewing my week so that I can bring up any issues that I want to be discussed. I'm never short on issues. A lot seems to happen in a week. I know my job is to be vulnerable and "show up" by being honest about my feelings and thoughts. I call it unzipping and I usually end up feeling naked and exposed. This is what I also call "raw". For much of the day leading up to my session I can sense the butterflies in my stomach because I know I will be challenged, and that just isn't a comfortable place to be. So it is common for me to have a Monday Battle. Tonight I just feel a need to process it bit more. The rawness is still there.

The big topic of today involved my examining my motives and reasons for hanging onto the relationship with Tony; I know this will be ending in divorce. It is decided, after all: we are not a good partnering. He needs a simple, controlled, small world. I seek a wide-open, full-out, all the emotions, all the experience, live-out-loud kind of life that tends to get complicated. They just don't mix well. I tolerated the emptiness and loveless marriage for 24 years, and now I have the opportunity to seek out this new life full of aspirations and hope and adventure! Why is there even a question as to my next step? Why aren't the papers filed, for heaven's sake?

The facts are evident. I haven't filed. I called him on Wednesday. Why? Here I am, facing the tough question, then: what am I getting from not completely letting go? I'm still processing this, so bear with me. I know there is a comfort level and all that. What I am starting to realize is that I have a lot of fear. (Ouch.) I can dream about what my life will be like as a single person: travel, visit many of my friends, romance... Maybe there is a partner for me that is suitable and healthy that I can do that with, and who really would enjoy (gee, dare I say "cherish"?) my company?!  So why fear? It has a lot to do with the fear of not being able to realize those dreams. Will I have the money to do that? What about all this added responsibility that comes from being on my own - will I even have the time? And the real heart of the matter just surfaced - on my own - what about being alone? Oh, yes, that is a real, look me in the eye fear.

I've been reading and trying to digest the encouragement about trusting my Higher Power, the value of acceptance, and the freedom from letting go. It sounds so good. I can mentally receive this. Sign me up! Yep, I"m on board. More! Then there is really believing it and living it. This of course is the rub; Rubber, meet Road. I find myself standing outside the arena looking into it, thinking "do I really want to dare greatly?" That is a big dare. That is a big arena. I mean we are talking big risk here! And if I do, dare I share my most private thoughts? That is to admit that there is a doubt which appears in a very quiet yet persistent voice that says to me, "Maybe it isn't so bad. He really does love you, and maybe this is your chance at love. Are you sure you can completely throw it all away? He is trying really hard, you know...it's probably better than being a...lone..." This is the first time I have acknowledged that the voice is present and keeps speaking to me. This is why I write. It exposes my secrets. Sometimes they are even secret to me. I hear another, more powerful voice: the one that speaks for my healing. It is saying "Move on! You are worth it! This is your life and you are the star in it!"

Awareness: a gift of recovery. I choose which voice to listen to, and I am committed to doing the next right thing for me and staying in the Healing Lane. So not only do I write, but I release it. This is the strength and power that I can draw upon, even on the most difficult days. This is a tool of recovery. It works for me.

The Gift of Anger

I have finally found my anger.  It has been a long time in coming. It surprised me when it finally showed up. Tonight at support group during one of the sharings, it struck me rather oddly that I had over 17 years of discovery, but that I had little anger to show for it. What happened? Why was I so unaware of the hurts and scars of my pain? I could hear the anger in others’ lives and how devastating dealing with this addiction has been. Has my life been less so? Of course not. I started to see myself as a battered woman who no longer felt the abuse but just endured it. And THAT is what pissed me off. It was as if I was a victim (which I don’t want to be) yet I was not even aware that I had been victimized (a form of denial, which I don’t want either).

I started to feel my anger. It was kind of new. I believe I felt it long ago, when I first had discovery in July 1995. It has been buried so long though, that it scared me to even acknowledge it. But there it was. Raw and real and wanting to be voiced. I knew I wanted to hit something. Badly.  Not someone, just something. Eventually I decided to take it out on a cactus that he cared for and tended to more than me. It was rather symbolic I suppose. I found a hoe and let my anger flow. When I  started to cry I remembered Debra telling me that I often use tears to squelch my anger. So I told myself “Not now. You will stay in this anger and let it go.”  So I did.  That was pretty empowering, too. I stayed in my anger. And that poor cactus is no longer with us.

When I had enough of that, I went to my beloved patio and started writing. I wrote three pages of what I was angry about. Who knew there was that much anger? Not me. I could hardly write fast enough. It just poured from within. How liberating! When I was done, I sat there for a moment. Then the most wonderful peace just settled upon me. What a welcomed gift. This is a different peace than I have experienced. It comes with acceptance. It is ok to be angry, to express it, to feel it. It didn't take over or consume me; it just lived for a time.

I think about today being Valentine’s Day and how this relates to my life. Perhaps it is significant that of all days today I was able to access this anger. I got a beautiful gift. Not the kind that I associate with this day, but yet a gift to myself. And that is, that I can embrace all of my feelings – including anger – and receive the growth and rewards that come from expressing them.

Put Down or Be Put Down

Sometimes we just hit a wall whether we see it coming or not. For me, it came in the form of complete exhaustion. I had a rather emotional day on Monday, but that in itself isn’t that unusual of late (say since July). I went to bed just after midnight and could not get up enough energy to get out of bed until the following afternoon. I got up to get something to eat and then went back to bed, only to get up for dinner and return to bed for more sleep. In the end, I slept until 8am Wednesday morning. I didn’t have a fever or loss of appetite. I just felt completely fatigued. I had over 30 hours of sleep in all.

Today I am gradually getting back into myself. I've noticed something happened to me “while I was sleeping” though. I feel differently about my life. There is an acceptance to not being able to handle it all. I was given an illustration by Debra on Monday. It was a picture of me balancing more than a dozen plates. Each plate had a person’s name or a responsibility or an event.  I was asked for my reaction to this. She wanted to know if I was inclined to do anything about it. I remember thinking that I needed to do something, but I just had a problem with knowing what to do. Which plate do I put down? Which plate is going to fall down? When I looked at each plate, I felt guilt about not doing enough for that person or that portion of my life. Well, except my plate. I tend to only feel guilty about that when I do tend to it.

I was reminded that when we get sick, we must deal with our illness in order to get better. One shouldn't feel guilty for needing self-care. The body sometimes just takes care of things. It shuts down.  She even warned me that by continuing in this behavior it might do that. I don’t think we need to add prophetess to Debra’s titles, but it is more than ironic, I think, that my body indeed did just that. Come Tuesday morning not even my strong will could get me out of bed. I could not override the body at that point. So the plates came tumbling down. Talk about coming face to face with guilt! The big one is my work plate.  It is completely FULL right now. We are a small office, and my role in this week’s workload is huge. I had to let it go. I had no choice. This has been a powerful lesson on self-care.

I am accepting my limitations and that the co-dependent part of me wants to do it all.  I want to please everyone and to be liked and receive love. This is one part of my life becoming unmanageable, though. Add to this unhealthy behavior some guilt. I am becoming aware that when I can’t do it all, I feel guilty. Following that, I often feel anger, which I am likely to keep suppressed. Enter my addictive behavior – compulsive eating and smoking. That, in turn, feeds more guilt. This cycle is definitely NOT in the Healthy Lane, which of course is where I want to be. The joy of recovery is finding awareness. I can now  choose a different path. I have been in that co-dependent cycle for so long that it is what seems normal to me.  I have also known that something wasn't right either. I have wanted answers to WHY I keep returning to eating or smoking, knowing that it isn't good for me.  And now I have some insight. I can choose to put some plates down, or have some fall down, or I can be put down by my own body! The pun there is somewhat intentional. However, the Healing Lane beckons me toward wholeness and fullness of life. So I go...taking just a few plates with me. 

I am a Valentine

It is that time of year when we are reminded that February 14 is designated as the day for romance and lovers. As a young girl, Valentine’s Day was about buying those fun cards, making a Valentine box, and having a class party. I remember carefully selecting the box of premade cards that were the standard practice of the day. Once home, I would open the box, go through the delightful task of sorting them into piles, and then carefully assigning which card would be given to each classmate. It was not a chore but an anticipated annual event. But with this, are perhaps some of my first vulnerable memories. I didn’t know how to risk sharing a sentiment that might be construed as too personal or overtly flirtatious. And what was appropriate to give to those whom I didn’t know that well? I identified with wanting to be told I mattered, and I wanted to let others know they mattered, too.

The sweetness of childhood and classroom parties turned to awkwardness in adolescence. I remember my 7^th grade Valentine Dance and the thought of the likelihood of my first real kiss. The first tests of romance and expressing real or imagined love happened during those years. I sought to belong, to love, and be loved.  It wasn’t just about boyfriends and romance. It included those friendships where I could truly feel the acceptance of a community of friends. Maneuvering through those tough years included sharing our experiences of not only Valentine dances and occasional boyfriends, but the ups and downs of discovering our sexuality and what that meant.

At 17 when Valentine’s Day came around, I was dating a 22-year old student from Saudi Arabia. We hadn’t been dating long, but he tried to fulfill his romantic obligation of the romantic gesture within the cultural norms as he understood them. So he game me flowers and jewelry. The flowers were silk and the jewelry was a crucifix. Neither one fit into my thoughts of an ideal Valentine gift.  I could accept the sentiment as his desire to express his intentions of my being special, but I felt guilty for wanting real flowers and a necklace I would wear. As I reflect on this today, I think how this scenario plays out in a lot of relationships. There is one’s expectation, and another’s aim at meeting it.  Dealing with the tension of perhaps not obtaining those goals is the rub, isn’t it?

I likely learned the expectation lesson early in my marriage because interestingly enough, I have mostly pleasant memories of Valentine’s Day with Tony. He was very dependable on acknowledging the significance of the day with flowers and a card, taking care in expressing an appropriate sentiment. There wasn’t a lot of romance and I don’t have any over-the-top memories as a couple but I was definitely remembered, and I knew I was loved. I also had someone that I remembered and for whom I expressed my love.

Tony and I chose to make the celebration a family holiday by including Will and later my parents. I have wonderful memories of Will giving cards with his expressions of love. I hold onto these and realize that Tony is not only a part of them but a big reason in how they became so special. He modeled and trained Will about the importance of showing our love for another.

So I’m not sure how I will feel this Valentine’s Day. I am a little ambivalent about what I may make of the day. I could wake up on the 14^th and be sad because I know I won’t be that someone’s special Valentine. I have been that for a lot of years, even through the worst of times in our marriage. Or I just may wake up and feel joy because I am a lot of people’s Valentine. I hope I will choose the latter. It takes me back to my youth when a kind expression and some candy hearts was all I needed. We were all each other’s Valentines and that was enough, for collectively we shared in the joy of being special. And I got to make a pretty box to boot. 

Morning Reflections

I went on a lovely walk through Sabino Canyon this morning. I met up with a wonderful friend who commented on my being “a morning person”. She is a more recent friend, which is perhaps obvious to those who have known me for a while. She was just reflecting on my fast-ish pace, talkativeness, and overall energy it seems. I would have made the same comment about someone else. I did pull out my iPhone and play Reba McIntyre's Gonna Take That Mountain, so it was a fair call. I have only recently become an early riser.  It sort of just happened that one day last October I started waking up around 5am and I have been getting up around that time most days since. It is somewhat of a phenomenon. Ok, that might be a bit exaggerated, but my entire life has been marked by my being a night owl. Even as a child, I didn't like going to bed until late, and hated getting up even more so. So basically overnight I went from being a night person, to a morning person.

I've been thinking about this change. Is it a product of just getting older? I hear it is pretty common to experience such a change. Mine was rather sudden, though. I had a thought this morning while I was journaling that maybe the authentic me is really a morning person! Perhaps by getting in tune with who I am means I am freed to be genuine, even with myself.  With this new awareness, I discover that I embrace the day and no longer dread or resist sleep. This, I see, is what being a morning person is about for me. I am feeling, thinking, and living in the present. I am seeing things with new awareness, and learning not to be so hard on myself, or others. It makes for a lighter life.

There is a wonderful bonus to being an early riser.  Getting up at 5am means there is time for solitude which I enjoy while sitting on my patio. This is a welcomed new routine. I have a peaceful time to reflect on the previous day and think about and pray for what the new day may bring. It is usually very dark when I settle into my rocking patio chair. As I read, meditate, and reflect, I experience the dawning of the day and feel a connection to God and His Universe. What a gift.

Yes, I am happy to accept that I am a morning person!

A Sew So Metaphor

On the way to work today I was thinking about how I have had to “undo” my life in order to rebuild it.  I was given this image of my mother's handiwork. She is quite a seamstress. I am not quite so gifted in this area, but I have watched and admired her as she put hours into making her own clothes or gifts for others.  There have been several occasions when I have witnessed her take a garment apart after having sewn for hours just because there was something that got “off” and it wasn't fitting correctly. In order for it to be useful or to the creative satisfaction she desired, she had to undo that effort and repair it, and then sew it correctly. There was often a search and discover period when she had to locate where the error was in piecing together the garment. It boggled my mind that she would invest so much energy into redoing it.  I thought couldn't she just “make do” or something of that matter? Or just discard that one and start over? She insisted that in the end it is well worth the effort. She said that she picked that fabric for a reason, selected that pattern, and that not all of the work to that point was a waste. 

I am feeling a lot like one of those garments.  In recognizing I need to be undone in order to be repaired is what has been happening. I have a lot of years invested in who I am and what I have accomplished. But I don’t want to just “make do” or certainly not be discarded. By allowing myself to be” taken apart” in a sense is providing the opportunity to rebuild and become who I really want to be and what I was created to be.  Sometimes a few stitches make a big difference. The material is still beautiful and there is a good pattern to follow.  And I am worth the investment. 

Dealing with New Boundaries

January 30, 2013

Feelings check. I am feeling fearful. What is my relationship with my parents going to look like as I change and execute my new boundaries? I saw the hurt that my mother is experiencing, possibly from my giving messages that aren't intended. It caused some anger in me last night. She spoke for me – assuming my actions and lack thereof had indicated something that they didn't  Or did they? Living honestly at this level is difficult. It requires some communication that isn't easy.

I processed what I had and had not communicated and did not feel that I had done anything wrong – either deliberately or not. But that doesn't mean that I should ignore what happened. Resolving the matter asked of me to speak to the situation, which made me feel uncomfortable. I didn't address it directly, but I did address it nonetheless. It got resolved in that we will be celebrating the birthdays as a family on Saturday night rather than just my parents with Jon and Sophia (without me and Will).

It begs the question about the changes in our relationship and what is implied about how we relate and communicate. I have endeavored to be caring, trying to hold forth their worthiness and to be honoring of them. I accept that boundaries are needed for healthy living and there needs to be some shifting along those lines. I am showing progress in this area. I think it is confusing to them, and I am concerned that without the context of my own recovery and development that it is giving them messages that do not adequately communicate where I want us to be.

A part of me wants a greater separation so that I do not feel this burden. Another part fears that such a move would be very hurtful. An example of possible misunderstanding is my bringing up the possibility of getting a different house. Such a move would mean that kind of separation. How my parents interpret that does affect me. But I do not want to caretake the situation. That would not be healthy. I am focusing on what I believe I need to do which means spending time and resources on therapy and support group, including meeting with recovery friends during the weekend or week nights. This has very much impacted the time I would normally spend with my parents, particularly my mother. And I am feeling guilty about that. I do not like this guilt. It feels selfish to be so focused on myself. I am trying to reconcile what I want and need with the effect on others. It is a very different place to be – so focused on myself.  Debra talks about my caring for myself as I have cared for others. I believe that is what I am doing, but it seems somewhat awkward. Is it just new behavior, or perhaps there needs to be a balance I have yet to reach.

I have been thinking about Ready to Heal (by Kelly McDaniels). Last night I was reading about the payoff – the benefits of working through the recovery of love and sex addiction. I very much want to believe that the changes will happen and I can anticipate the strength, peace, and love from recovery. There is a courage that is required, as it won’t happen without the work of changing thoughts and behaviors. And these do produce other kinds of changes. As it has been described – when you change your part of the dance, it is now a new and different dance. And we don’t know those steps. Without daring to change, I risk never really getting what I want. And what I want is the peace, love, and serenity from being authentic and healed, releasing me to be who I really am. I want a healthy partnership; I want to overcome my addictions and I want to be adult in all my relationships. I want all that God has planned for me and to fulfill whatever it is He has created me to be. There is a risk that my parents won’t be able to accept the new boundaries, or that they will deal with them in an equally awkward way, essentially changing our relationship and losing our closeness. I do not want them to think I love them any less than I do now.

I will keep pressing on. I believe I am in the Healing Lane, and it has a flow to it. I want to keep up with it, not resist it. So here we go. Again. Time-out is over. 

My Divine Chiropractor

January 9, 2013

Yesterday during my morning walk, I was thinking about the wealth of emotions and thoughts that have been a part of the feelings of the“24/7” I shared on Monday. What was placed into my heart yesterday was that I am going through a deep emotional chiropractor adjustment. I signed up for the long-term treatment and that there are many adjustments being made. I need to allow the Divine Chiropractor do His work within me. One of my assignments for this healing is to change my posture – that is, to change how I position myself to others by setting appropriate boundaries. Another is to breathe properly, which I believe is to accept, be patient, feel, and release. This really helped me in getting a picture of what I am addressing with all of the awareness, information, and recovery work. It takes time. And that I can live with.  Thank you so much for your support.

The Clock Metaphor

December 11, 2012

I woke up this morning to find out that the clock read 6:23 or something along those lines. I don’t use an alarm – haven’t since I was in junior high – and so I was shocked to learn that I had slept through the night, getting a full 8+ hours sleep. I felt tired, but knew I needed to get up to start my day. I showered, still feeling a bit groggy, then got dressed and headed out to the kitchen to start coffee. Imagine my surprise to learn it was 3:30am!

It hit me very strongly how this is a metaphor for my life. I trusted the clock in my bedroom. I ignored all of the other signs – the fact that I had regularly been waking up around that time for a bathroom break, the fact that the dog and cat (who both sleep in my bedroom) were not stirring, the awareness that my 17 year old was also not getting ready for her day. Then I remembered resetting my radio station last night since it wasn't on my regular station.

So, I trusted the clock. Who is the clock, then? My husband? All of my decisions about getting ready were based on that one thing – the time on the bedroom clock – being truth. I ignored MY inner clock; I ignored the animals and the other physical signs – it did seem a bit dark, after all. I moved in a direction, taking action based on a lie. Yes, I have believed his lies. I went about making decisions believing that his word was truth rather following my own instincts, noting others’ feedback on his behaviors, and the changes in my own behaviors responding to his. So the lie is revealed and now I can make adjustments and re-direct my path. But even those decisions aren't so easy. At 3:30am – I was awake and ready for the day. Do I really just go back to bed? Do I proceed with the day as if it isn't the middle of the night? When I found out about my husband’s lies, I had to face similar crossroads.  In both cases, the path I take now can be based on the truth since it is now revealed. I don’t have to go about the rest of the day – or my life – believing a lie. I make adjustments and move on. I'm not mad at myself for believing the lies; I'm thankful for the truth.

p.s. – I stayed up for a time, journaled, meditated on this very topic, and then returned to bed for a couple of hours. Not the greatest hair day…but I’m able to laugh at myself as I recall what facial expression I must have had as I discovered it was 3:30! 

Emotional Workouts

September 26, 2012 

I haven’t read this anywhere, but I will assume that this metaphor is already “out there”. But since it was delivered to me in my own brain, on my own time during my own processing and meditating, I feel at liberty and excited to share this image with you as it has helped me recently.

I have had bountiful opportunities these past couple of weeks to deal with some deep issues about myself. This normally would put me on a pattern of ups and downs, causing me to feel exhausted and out of control.  However, I realize that in seeking out answers to “why” do I do such and such, I can now embrace these situations because I am getting answers. Tough as it is to look at my family of origin, the choices I have made, and the choices I cannot make (meaning not mine to make – the addict’s choices, for instance) it is better to look at them honestly than to have them drive me and affect me without my awareness.

So – this is my new metaphor – I am terming this process my “emotional workout”.  I have a good context for this since I started including weight lifting in my exercise program a couple years ago.  I had just never imagined myself doing things like bench presses, leg presses, squats, and power cleans (new terms for me, too, to go along with new activity).  Now I have learned about the value of adding this dimension, particularly in pushing myself on difficult weight lifts. I used to think things like “there is no way I can bench press”.  But this has changed. When I am faced with a new task or weight level, I may be nervous and apprehensive as it takes determination, sweat, and muscle to reach the accomplishment. But once done, I feel empowered! It is very exhilarating and building in me a confidence I have lacked. Imagine the trainer standing by me stating, “Sara, you can do this.” My reply? “I can? Ok, I guess I will then.” 

I had stopped seeing my strength – physical, emotional, or mental.  I had allowed my pain, rejection, hopelessness, and so on to define me.  After a physical workout, I usually experience some pain due to muscle repair from the stress of the exercise.  But I have learned to welcome that pain because I know I am getting stronger and it affirms the hard work I’ve done.  Much like this physical workout, I see how these “emotional workouts” are building a stronger and more empowered me.  This shift in my mindset has re-energized my commitment and desire to deal with my issues.  I am powerless over when and why an issue will surface, but now I just know that when one does, it is the exercise for the day.  When my therapist (or sponsor) is likened to that role of personal trainer, I remember it is all in my best interest. I may be mad one minute, but so thankful the next.  I remain thankful; indeed. 

2012 Reflections and Thoughts for 2013

January 2, 2013

It is that time in my life when I feel the need to reflect on the changes over the past several months – let’s get real – the last year. I have been through and accomplished a lot. I recall a year ago facing the need to deal with my health. I was so morbidly obese I couldn't even face weighing myself to see what the scale read. I just knew I was at least 150 pounds overweight. The changes I instituted were going to be drastic in order to address the severity of my deteriorated relationship to food. I made them – I gave up all forms of sugar and artificial sweeteners  grains and all things made with flour, and even gave up caffeine. It is one year tomorrow that I have not eaten things made with sugar or flour (albeit, I have returned to drinking coffee). The reward for this is feeling much better physically and having lost around 70 pounds. 

The significant change of course this past year is my separation and pending divorce from my husband, as well as dealing with the circumstances surrounding this. I have faced my being a co-dependent and accepted that my life had become unmanageable along with the chaos that resulted from my trying to control it with unhealthy behaviors. Finding a support group and a good therapist have been crucial in helping me with my recovery from this unhealthy life. I can acknowledge my growth in areas of awareness, responsibility, setting boundaries, and my self-esteem. I am so thankful for this, for the new relationships I have, and for the possibilities that are now before me. 

Facing the holidays and continuing to maintain this new life I have been working on setting right presented a whole set of challenges, of course to be expected. I am proud of holding forth my food boundaries and not eating any of the family favorites. Who would have said anything to me should I have had a piece of Aunt Vickie’s Danish Kringle (think Danish pastry!)? Not likely anyone. Except me. And I am learning that this is the voice most important. I had stopped listening to my reasonable voice and instead listened to that pathetic, self-serving/self-defeating one. This past year, I have managed to shut Defeating Voice up.  She tries to be heard now and then, but I remind her she made a train wreck of my life and we will have none of that. Healthy Voice kicks in and speaks up for me. I like her and am listening more attentively to her now. She has good things to say.

Yet, a midst all these victories, I find myself still struggling with my feelings and just what those are. Shouldn't I be feeling more joy? I faced the challenges, stood strong, did my self-care, utilized my tools (and I mean a bunch of them over the holidays –  I journaled, prayed, meditated, walked, talked, texted, affirmed, showed up, was honest, resisted, rested, gave room to my feelings, read, cried, laughed, accepted,…), and didn't fall into old patterns with family. I dealt with triggers – there were plenty of those, too. All in all, I would say I did a very good job of staying in my healthy lane. So isn't it logical to expect a pouring out of joy? Shouldn't it just be oozing from my soul? Don’t get me wrong. I’m not all depressed and sad either. I’m just wanting a euphoria for having looked temptation in the eye and overcome it. Instead, I am feeling exhausted. 

I couldn't wait to get back to Tucson to connect with my recovery family. This is where I feel safest. It is where I can just be – no explanation of what is going on with me or why or how I am doing what I am doing. There is acceptance. And understanding. And love. I told those at Monday’s meeting that I needed a “recovery retreat” from all this “in my face” work.  It is just that it is work, and work can be tiring. I’m hoping all those emotional muscles are getting stronger from all these emotional workouts. 

I think that is my lesson today. We must work at it – getting stronger, healthier, and in tune with our spiritual life – as there aren't any “pass go” tickets to accomplish these changes. I remind myself as I have many times this past month, “It is what it is.” Oh, there she is! "There will be joy; yes, there will be lots of joy expressed in 2013!" Told you I'm being more attentive.