Tuesday, September 23, 2014

Marking a Milestone

My Pot Party
September 2014 shall from henceforth be deemed Milestone Month. Initially, it was going to be about turning 50. It’s the marked event that I put in my timeline since June 2010. I just wanted to turn my life around by the time I turned 50. As the time grew closer to September 10, my anxiety increased. I was focusing on the things that I thought needed to be present to have my life “turned around”.  Having noted that I was at an all-time low physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually, I am not surprised of the disappointment in my physical change. Simply put, I wanted to be thinner. I've taken off 70 pounds; I wanted to be 100 pounds or more off.  But when I reversed the order and thought about the spiritual, emotional, mental, and then physical changes, I was amazed at how much I had turned my life around. I have a sense of satisfaction in what I've done. I am very grateful. My sense of worth is now solid and able to be affirmed from within me, rather than seeking from others to feed that to me. I made a public declaration of this, to honor myself and my work. I see myself as the gift and my life as the celebration.

This month is also marked by some very significant therapy sessions.  I did some empty chair work that placed me in a chair opposite an empty chair but where I could envision my ex-husband seated. I needed to say the things I hadn't said to him when we were married. There was a lot to be said. There was a boatload of anger and pain and shame to be expressed, released, and left on the therapy floor. I spoke and yelled and cried and screamed some. It was quite cathartic. Wow, did that feel good. Following that session, I was a changed woman! Previous attempts to “get angry” particularly in the therapy setting, were less successful. It was if there had been a lock box on going "there". It has taken two years of hard, dedicated work to get to this point. I write about it here to acknowledge the work I've done, and perhaps for others who may read this and need some encouragement.  I'd often wondered if the work is worth it.  I am here to say, “Yes, it is”. I have a freedom that I have wanted for a long time. I am lighter, and a burden has been lifted. Debra said she saw a paradigm shift in me. I resemble that comment. 

Lovely!
During that session and in the group session that followed later that week, it became clear that I had some unresolved trauma.  It was agreed that EMDR would serve me well in this incident. The session that ensued involved facing perhaps the worst memory of my marriage. Doing this was perhaps one of the most difficult things I have done in my life. The pain and shame of that time in my life was so huge that I would get physically ill and emotional every time it was mentioned or recalled. My goal in therapy was to obtain a sense of peace. I wanted to be released from the grip that memory had over me. I have read Peter LeVine’s Waking the Tiger about physical symptoms of unresolved trauma.  During that session, I experienced exactly what he describes in his book – shaking, flailing, and other physical releases of trapped trauma. During this particular EMDR session, my emotions and thoughts would interject their own messages wanting me to stop. Emotionally, it was painful to face this fear and feel what had been locked within me. I also had to resist the thought that this was embarrassing, that I looked ridiculous, and whatever else the mind’s ego wanted to protect. I stayed true to my resolve. Recovery Healthy Sara prevailed again. That tenacious girl fought to get her breakthrough. Powerfully done, and immensely healing! EMDR is one kick-ass method. 

There was an unexpected and beautiful gift to me for this perseverance. I was given a vision of my husband and me. Instead of the pain, shame, and rejection that represented that initial memory, this new image was one of compassion and acceptance. We still held our brokenness as that had not been addressed, but in that space we weren't carrying the fullness of the shame. We were present for one another. It was a lovely image. I have the gift of this in addition to no longer having the bondage to that trauma. Indeed, this is my new truth. I have it to share as I go forth and to any future relationships. And that is that it isn't the absence of problems, it is the presence of compassion, empathy, vulnerability, honesty, genuine affection and love that creates the kind of intimacy I long for. Hell, yes, this is a milestone.  Hell, yes, this is a breakthrough!

P.S...I want to share how I celebrated my birthday, a particularly great idea for one marking a new season in life. I had a Pot Party! OK, I mean, I had a potting party. I asked for new colorful pots for my new colorful plants to adorn the patio that has been reclaimed as my haven. Now when I take time to reflect and enjoy the sanctity of my personal retreat, I am reminded of the party, this special time in my life, and the many people who love me. I have the pleasure of the beauty of the plants and pots themselves, and the knowledge that like those plants that are flourishing, I too am firmly planted, growing, and blossoming.

Beautiful!
Enchanting!
Gorgeous!

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

The Strengths in Co-dependency

Today while driving, I found my thoughts turned to those times  I've done things out of my comfort zone on behalf of someone else. One such memory dates back to 1985. I had just gotten my very first apartment.  Until that time I had lived with my parents, in dormitories, and most recently with another couple. One of my childhood friends had just accepted a job in El Paso, and I was asked by our mothers to help her get settled. This friend is three years older than me, but evidently I represented some aspect of experience. The irony here is that I knew nothing of traveling, of El Paso, of setting up an apartment. It was the blind leading the blind and somehow I was in front!

She flew to Arizona and I was to take her to El Paso.  It had been overlooked that El Paso is over five hours away.  The financial and time burdens on me were far less of an issue than taking care of her needs. However, I didn't know any other way but to respond positively to the expectation that I would do this. I gladly accepted this request, however today I recognize that it was a lot to ask of me at that time. I had just turned 21 and it surprises me now what a willing and easy-going participant I was in this agreement. Of course, it is only now using the recovery lens that I see how co-dependent I was even then. My needs or welfare just weren't part of the equation. I was viewed as more than capable and she was viewed as needing help. How interesting to look back to see myself in this light.

The gift of this recollection is that I see strengths in co-dependency. My willingness to take risks, be adventurous, seek knowledge, provide leadership, and be encouraging are traits that I admire! When these things are needed on behalf of another, they wonderfully appear! I draw upon those strengths to be the supportive person I choose to be. These things are commendable and respectable and I see why others saw me as a resource! I am not faulting myself for this.

I also have seen that often when I need these very traits for myself, I have failed to utilize them. I have so often not been willing to take risks or encourage myself. I have been far less motivated. In recovery, fortunately this is changing. I am learning to show up for myself, and now I see I can draw on those same strengths I used to help others. They are available to me for my needs and desires; they always have been. Writing this actually surprises me how simple it seems. If I can do something for someone else, why has it been so difficult to do the same thing for myself? THAT is the work of these past months. That is the mystery of this thing called co-dependency. Why is it that I put my needs aside, neglecting my self-care, willing to deplete myself of the resources to tend to myself?

I am still seeking the fullness of the answers to those questions. I am grateful to have some insight though. It hasn't come without some work, some pain, and some courage to face truths about my behaviors, thoughts, and feelings. In a nutshell, I didn't see my own worth or my own abilities. I also wanted someone to do for me what I was willing to do for others but not for myself. These are not pleasant truths to confess. Today, they are not my beliefs, though. I am worth it, I am capable, and I can tend to my needs and know how to ask for help rather than manipulating others to meet them. I’m still working toward transformation. It’s become less burdensome, and I notice that more often I find myself behaving as a healthy adult, taking ownership and responsibility for my choices. I celebrate these victories.

I'm reminded of a conversation I had with a dear friend earlier this year over my struggles in accepting that I was an addict. She said that she had learned to love the addict part of herself, and that she needed some of the qualities of her addict. I've slowly come to see the truth in that. For instance, the addict in me has some determination and resolution that are useful traits. Today, I see that this also applies to the co-dependent in me. She is resourceful, courageous, adventurous, caring, and compassionate.  I can love all of me . I am reminded of those precious words from my Higher Power, "You are lovable, beautiful, and a catch!" Now I realize that that includes the co-dependent in me, too!

Thursday, July 3, 2014

My Life: The House Metaphor

I own a large house built in 1980.  I have lived there since 1993. My husband at the time and I bought it when our son was a year old. It now includes a remodeled addition, a guest house, and a separate garage. My husband was the caretaker of the house and so I have had a major adjustment to becoming sole owner of this house. Being a home owner is somewhat of a burden. Not only does the house itself need attention, but now living alone with three cats (by default, btw; it seems they stay with the house) includes some emotional feelings associated with the house. I have felt its emptiness, vastness, and loneliness. I have shed plenty of tears in my lonely despair.

There are a number of repairs needed in this house, not to mention the maintenance required. A fresh coat of paint and some updating are long overdue; the kitchen hasn't been redone since it was built. The carpets and tile should be replaced.  The yard screams for attention.  I'm learning to allow time for basic upkeep like watering plants, tending to the pool, handling garbage collection –the basic adult responsibilities that I've managed to avoid while married. I've considered selling the house. After all, what do I need with this big house along with all this work?  This seems like a lot for me to do. Selling is an option; one I have considered with much thought and that has a lot of appeal. But I have felt that this house is mine for a reason. This house is mine for a purpose, and that I can actually come to thrive and enjoy this house. I actually like this house and it is home.

The metaphor of this house representing my life is a beautiful one. I am faced with taking care of my life in ways I haven’t been in the past. It has been and still is in need of repair.  The body most definitely needs some repair, as does much of my thinking. The emotional healing has been given a lot of attention and it continues to require a set of skilled laborers to assist in its repair. My way of relating to the house is so indicative of how I relate to myself – I feel burdened and empty; I see the years of neglect. My husband wasn't just a caretaker of the house, he was a caretaker of me. Just like I dreamed of a new house, I fantasize of a new me. And not in a healthy dreamy kind of way, but in a discard-this-one-since-it-is-broken-and-too-much-work-to-make-it-livable kind of thinking.  

Then, she appears: Healthy Sara. The one who has been discovering her worth,who is accepting of her imperfectly perfect self. The one who has been courageous and dares greatly, and despite all the work knows that there is no trading in this model for a newer one. In fact, this model is just fine. This life of mine is the one I've been given.  I am both resident and landlord. Each life is given its share of burdens, but what about the blessings? Yes, what about them?! 

My house is a blessing and it has been from the beginning. The needs and wants of the family were greatly considered when shopping for a new home. I knew from the first that that this house was to be my new home.  My son grew up in this house and there are many good memories within its walls. This house has afforded me the privilege of holding many fun events, including two weddings (soon to be a third) as well as numerous parties.  Its location is ideal and I have scenic views of mountains and nearly an acre of land to enjoy both spacious living and luscious landscape.  My house is also built of strong materials --  both brick and 2 x 6 construction. The original owner applied his Midwestern ideals to house building and made sure it was well-constructed. At its core, my house is solid, as well as welcoming and comfortable.

The blessings of my life are just as many. I, too, am ideally situated for this time and place to allow for healing and repair. I have a purpose. The emptiness is being replaced with fullness of joy and love, slowly but surely. The One Who Loves Me reminds me of my worth and value (He still thinks I’m lovable, beautiful and a catch) which builds love for myself followed by love for others. The repairs continue, as will the maintenance. It is amazing what a new coat of paint will do.  I was hauling the garbage containers down to the street last night and as I shifted my thinking about that being a chore to something I willingly and honestly wanted to do, I felt the same shift within my thinking about myself. It isn't the burdens but the blessings that really matter. It isn't that I have to haul out the garbage, it is that I get to care for myself.

It’s nice to be in charge of my own house and even better to be in charge of my own life.

Friday, May 30, 2014

Perfectionist, Planner, Pleaser, Pretender: The Masks that Misrepresent Me

I had the great fortune to spend last week at a convention focused on recovery. I wrote the following during a writing workshop. I didn't share it until last night, when I was asked to post this on THL. Perhaps I undervalued the insight that I had. If that is the case, I will consider my pattern of minimizing my thoughts and experiences, as it is always my wish to share whatever HP has given me for not only my learning but for others’.

“Dear Recovery Family,

I am once again honored to be your delegate and to witness such amazing recovery and to have the opportunity for my own growth and healing. This recovery experience is like none other and I so wish you were here with me. As you know, I am here as a delegate, an attendee, and serving on the Convention Committee. I have been planning for, working on, and in anticipation of this weekend since leaving the Convention last May.

What has become surprisingly apparent to me at this year’s Convention is that the agenda I had is far different than what my Higher Power has in mind. I say this a lot – my service work is my recovery work. This is especially evident this weekend.

The perfectionist in me has really been at odds with the recovery me. The planner in me has had to take a back seat to the unexpected needs of convention work. The pleaser in me has had to let go of others’ thoughts; it’s none of my business what they think anyway. The pretender in me has had to give way to authenticity and vulnerability.

And this is all VERY, VERY, good! The perfectionist, planner, pleaser, and pretender are parts of me that hide who I am. The real Sara, the authentic me, is imperfectly perfect! She knows that it is progress not perfection and that doing her best, giving her best – this is enough! Recovery Sara knows that whatever plans she has doesn't really matter;  it is Higher Power’s agenda that matters. Humble Sara knows that she is accepted, worthy, and loved by God. She can be pleasing without needing to be approved by others. And the healthy, whole Sara no longer hides behind her insecurities or her attempts to overachieve. She is free to be who God has made her to be.”

As I type and reflect this morning, I am once again humbled by the ways that I’m gently course corrected. I have had some challenges re-entering into my daily life, post-convention. Those same masks want to reappear, and yet there are more masks that have surfaced. I face a new powerlessness: living alone. There are new physical and emotional challenges that I’m dealing with. The mask that I put on is pitier. This really didn't strike a chord in me until writing this post. The pity is for myself to add insult to injury, and this  mask is in direct competition with the overcomer in me. I fight wanting to hide behind the circumstances and pain. That is not who I am, though. I have proven to myself over and over again that I come to my own rescue even as I lean in and own my behaviors. I use the recovery tools that I have, and I will continue down The Healing Lane. This is the real Sara; the one who doesn't need masks, embraces life, and knows her worthiness while humbly asking God to lift her shortcomings. I like her, by the way. 

Wednesday, May 14, 2014

Open Door to Vulnerability

Sometime early this morning I recall feeling the coolness of the morning breeze, hearing the sounds of the wildlife, and smelling the fragrant scent of jasmine.  I had a quite a surprise when I awoke to find the door from my bedroom to the backyard ajar. My initial reaction was, “how did that happen and how long has it been open?”  My deduction is that the wind blew it open, or that mastermind feline Macie managed to open it. She manages to open another door to the patio regularly. My mind didn't rest on how the door was opened because my feelings became much more apparent: I felt extremely vulnerable. I would not be your outdoorsy type nor comfortable with various outdoor critters making their way into my home. Nor do I allow any other kind of unwelcomed critters into my bedroom.

This vulnerability has triggered something in me that has prompted my desire to write today.  I recognize that this feeling has surfaced in the last few days because I recently learned that I will – for the FIRST time – be living all alone this summer. I have shared my residence with at least one family member or roommate my entire life. I have never, ever lived alone.  

Living alone for many, I realize, is a welcomed - perhaps even needed - respite from an otherwise hectic and packed lifestyle. I have many friends that describe their solitude with such richness and warmth and endearment. I look at them in amazement and some disbelief. It is only in the last year that I can embrace solitude for its gift. But I can seek solitude in a number of ways; I don’t need to live alone to experience that. In contrast to solitude, loneliness brings up feelings that are not soul enriching. I have been addressing my loneliness for some time. The intensity of the loneliness has lessened as well as the duration of those intense feelings. 

Another concern of mine is responsibility. I must fully recognize that I will go through an adjustment. I’m not very good at routines and the thought of remembering to take out the trash to the garbage container and then take the bins to the curb is slightly unsettling. Add to this the watering of the plants – inside and out – and the daily maintenance of the animals; the pool and the mail; and the overall well-being of the house. I recognize my shortcomings and know that this lack of taking responsibility and being a good caretaker (in this sense, it really is care-taking!) are on my list. I have some anxiety about my really taking on this responsibility.  I also know I have an opportunity to show myself my fully functioning adult behavior capabilities and I believe I will rise to the occasion.

Now back to feeling vulnerable. I believe this is what is the crux of the matter to my living alone for the first time in my nearly 50 years. The security, safety, and shared responsibility will no longer be resting on my having someone living with me. It is now solely on me to provide for my own security and well-being. The image that comes to mind is a child, cold and alone, in the wilderness.  Whew! That speaks vulnerability to me. The gift in expressing my feelings and exposing my thoughts is that I can now examine them. I can validate my vulnerability and acknowledge my truth, but also choose where I want to go with this information.

The truth is that I am a very capable adult. I have resources to do and hire what I need to do to care for my surroundings. I may have a bit of a challenge to get into the groove of things, but I am a responsible adult and I will care and tend to my needs. I am not a child alone in the wilderness even if there is a part of me that feels that way. The helplessness, uncertainty, confusion…not knowing what to do, if anything…all point to feelings of vulnerability that this morning’s open door exposed. What I have been reading and learning about vulnerability is that as uncomfortable as it may feel, just embrace whatever the circumstance is by daring greatly (see the quote by Theodore Roosevelt used by BrenĂ© Brown). By continuing to “show up” in my own life, I am becoming the person I envision myself to be. I am merely entering a new scenic path along my journey. It is where I find myself and what I call The Healing Lane.

Monday, May 5, 2014

Lean in and Own It

    I have found such deep healing in the love and acceptance of knowing my God loves me - flaws and failures, quirks and smirks, whether I’m happy or sad, grouchy or glad.  There is a comfort and peace these recent months; more than I have ever known.  Yet, the last couple of weeks I have felt the return of some of the less pleasant feelings. This has been troubling and challenging because I am wrestling with a returned intensity of loneliness. I acknowledge that in struggling with these feelings, I am again finding myself wanting to minimize them and dismiss them as unjustified and unwarranted. Fortunately, these many months of therapy have brought gifts of awareness and there is a more compassionate me to be less critical of myself when these feelings surface.
    Having said that, I can also identify that I am susceptible to addictive behaviors since the unrest and discomfort prompt those feelings of pain to the level of wanting to escape and medicate. I know well enough that acting out in my compulsive behaviors or numbing away my feelings will only delay what I need to face. My commitment level to my healing is much greater than that; no – the Sara of recent years is “lean in and own it”. That’s just how I bend these days; I do not want to return to the numb Sara.
    So let’s lean in and find out what I need to own. What is it about this loneliness that is so difficult? I begin with asking myself when is the pain the worst? The bewitching hour is when I go to bed; I simply want to share my life with someone, and I don’t like sleeping alone.  The intellect of that statement is simple enough; I believe by design we are programmed to want to connect. I can see that loneliness is part of accepting my present circumstances. What has been particularly difficult is the intensity of these feelings, though.  They can be rather unpleasant.
    I am all too familiar with gripping pain. I remember feeling a deep, into-my-core, kind of pain when I was married. This was perhaps the worst of the worst since I was physically next to someone whom I loved, to whom I had made vows of lasting love and commitment, and who I wanted desperately to love me. Yet, there I was – devastated in the bitter loneliness of rejection. That kind of loneliness is truly debilitating. My medicating and escaping were understandable, albeit so very unhealthy.
    The loneliness that I am feeling of late is not the same thankfully. I am not rejected and I am aware that I am by myself, yet I am not alone.  Rather, this loneliness has some residue of an early time from my childhood. What I recall from my days as a young girl growing up in my family of origin is that I knew I was loved; that I was aware that I had a very good life because my parents provided for me and took care of my (physical) needs. I had such compassion for those I perceived as less fortunate than I, especially those existing on such minimal provision. I wanted to be grateful for what I had been given. I suppose I learned at an early age to minimize my needs because I didn't feel that I was particularly worthy of having it “better” than someone else.   
     There is a certain type of loneliness in that kind of thinking because I couldn't share those feelings deep inside me. To do so would expose something very shameful in me – that having such emotional needs was to be greedy, needy, demanding, and ungrateful.  I think what I wanted was the kind of attention of being seen and appreciated for in my complexity as a person, not merely for the compliant child who did for others.  There was a sense that because I had been given more than most children, to voice any additional need was to be ungrateful. I hadn't done anything particularly worthy of what I had been given so asking for more than what I was given would have been audacious, and that was very unacceptable. In fact to express it would have been shameful.

     Back to today’s loneliness: what does all this have to do with my recent feelings (I’m leaning in; I’m willing to own it, but it doesn't always make sense to me.)  I suppose I’m back to the issue of asking for more. Do I get to voice my needs, because I’m feeling very undeserving and unentitled. Yet, if asked…I want more.  I see that more is available and I want the fullness that I see is available. Wanting that exposes some guilt and shame (again?! They seem to reappear over and over, don’t they?) because I think it says that I am ungrateful.  I know that I have come far in my healing; that I have awareness and acceptance.  I have worked through so many issues, I have overcome a lot of my harmful and unhealthy behaviors. There is this sense that my gratitude for this should suffice.  I am truly grateful. These feelings of wanting more expose how young Sara related to her world. As an adult I get to define my needs and set about getting them met.  There is no guilt or shame in that, and to my surprise, by my releasing those, I also feel less lonely.   In fact, I feel empowered by my adult awareness, and realize that only my opinion on what is enough matters. There is nothing lonely in that, but I alone get to make that call!

Wednesday, April 23, 2014

Damnit, I’m Angry

Does anger imply unforgiveness? This morning I think I have uncovered a belief that might be part of my obstacle with expressing anger, coming from my discomfort of having anger to begin with. I want to be healthy with my feelings and emotions, allowing myself to feel anger rather than default to pain and crying.  Interrupting that cycle is not easy, but I’m willing to do what I need to do to get to the other side of this.

I wasn’t overjoyed over my assignment to list the things that I am angry about concerning my brother David, but I did embrace the possibility that I could get clarity and become released from the pain cycle I experience so regularly. I shared with my mother some of the things that were discussed at therapy yesterday, in particular about the relationship with David and my struggle with anger. She brought up that I needed to forgive and be released from the resentment (something along those lines). Now I’m experiencing something that I hadn't anticipated – anger over not being allowed to have my anger without something else attached to it. Right now, I have this sense that I have to be justified in my anger: that anger is bad unless there is something righteous about it. I am feeling defensive about having anger, yet wanting to express it. Even further, I am aware of wanting to be validated for the work around anger and how difficult it has been for me to do this. There is a lot of young Sara in this, I see.

The interesting part is how this issue of anger has tapped into an anger source. Why do I feel so compelled to dismiss my anger? Why do I not feel comfortable being angry? Why does forgiveness have to be attached to my anger? Can’t I just be angry without being offended and resentful and justified? I am angry that the issue of anger was so huge that I couldn't (wouldn't?) be angry for myself. Instead, it was expected that I be compliant, respectful, helpful, agreeable, pleasant, happy, trusting, dependable. There wasn't any room for anger. I've bought into this thinking, or perhaps I created it. I just know that being angry doesn't come easily unless it is in defense of someone else. Then it comes rather quickly.

So today I press inward with intention and tenacity to feel what I don’t want to feel. I strap on my recovery cloak and mentally go to places that are difficult to remember. I do this because I love myself enough to believe there is a happier life on the other side of this pain. I trust the process even though I want to run, hide, medicate, and otherwise become numb to all of this. I grow tired of this work but I continue on with determination.

I think I was the “hero” of the family. I recall being asked about the roles we each take on in our family of origin. It just seems apparent that as the middle child, the girl, the compliant one, the pleaser…I was the hero (rather than the clown, the scapegoat, etc). So when I hear in my head, “Sara, what’s your problem? You don’t have to be so angry about it.” I wonder what was that about? What am I really feeling? Where do I go with that anger?

When Eric felt anger, he got angry. Or least he did often enough that I remember it very vividly. When he was done being angry he reappeared in his charming manner, quickly returning to the family fold most notably to my mother’s good graces. His anger was attributed to his maleness and his genealogy. When I got angry, it wasn't the same. I felt the disapproval which usually resulted in my going to my room, crying, and feeling alone as if I had done something wrong, ushering in guilt and shame.

I’m being told that I need to feel my anger, yet it is so hard to access. And when I do, it is deeply painful. Attached to experiencing that painful anger is the fear of what happens when I do, meaning I associate there being rejection, loneliness, guilt, and shame. So that pretty much covers it…anger carries with it all of the other feelings: pain, fear, loneliness, guilt, shame.

I think I have to be with this for a while. Fortunately, The Healing Lane offers some good views and some helpful tools. 

Sunday, March 30, 2014

Healing Destination Ahead

Last night I went to bed feeling unsettled, anxious, and somewhat troubled. I have been facing some old stuff with my marriage.  It started surfacing a couple of weeks ago, and it seems to be gaining intensity.  With all my tools, I’m still feeling less than equipped to handle this. Before falling asleep, I said a prayer to lighten my heaviness, knowing I just needed to give it to God.

Interestingly, I had had a most bizarre dream that is so metaphorical that I wanted to share it. It is amazing to me how the spiritual world interacts with our mental and physical limitations to communicate to us valuable information.  The gift of this dream is the peace that I received from knowing God had heard my prayer, and the reminder that I am not alone. I believe my dream is a response to that prayer.

In the dream I was preparing for a long-term trip toward a destination that I believe I referred to as “home”. I had my car packed and was moving down my lane (shall I assume it is The Lane?!) toward this desired destination and feeling very content.  At some point, this path became underwater and I was no longer on the road, but in the midst of a massive lake. I was no longer in the car, recognizing that the lake required something different.  For a moment there was panic on the awareness of not recognizing that the road had ended and for no longer having access to the vehicle to get me to my destination. I felt very alone, and very much wanted rescued.  I looked for help, for the potential for help, and could only see water. In assessing my options, I realized that I was going to need to move toward land. I decided to swim forward in the direction of the destination rather than turn around. I began swimming and was surprised to find out that I found a rhythm to my swimming all the while comforting Little Sara who was with me. There was a peace about me that I could continue, even a welcoming sense of serenity as I felt the water support me. I no longer had thoughts of being rescued but in the present peace of having come to my own rescue and realizing I had strength and abilities I had not known.

Once again, I was taken somewhat by surprise in this peaceful state to having reached a massive bridge-like structure. As in many dreams, it isn't easy to describe what seems so real and obvious in a dream. This structure appeared rather unexpectedly, providing me with a solid footing. I was now grounded and aware that this was more like a station where travelers were in transition. It provided not only safety, but a whole infrastructure to others who were also arriving, leaving, getting refuge, and connecting with others. It became clear that I would likely find a ride to my destination. I observed others also needing assistance. Some were not asking for help, just sitting rather solemnly alone. Others were desperate for help, and others were gathered in a logical place where those offering assistance could connect with those wanting it. I found this place, and it is there that the dream ended.

Upon waking, I remember thinking that the dream was just odd, and it provided more of a vague sensation of confusion than anything else. I then got the thought that there was more to this dream, and I began to feel some encouragement. As I started to write out the dream, I got clarity about the metaphors. The destination is my destiny where I will have found healing, authentic living, and purpose. This journey of mine is indeed about that destination, and the path to get there. It began in preparation and having a reliable car – which I decided is Debra, my therapist. The contentment is the result of the work I've done both in therapy and in recovery.  The path doesn't end abruptly, but I will find myself in a new place, much like finding myself in the lake. I related to this as my powerlessness over my circumstances but quickly finding acceptance of my choices and limitations.  I very much relate to that feeling of being overwhelmed, in a place I didn't know how I got here, and with the uncertainly of what to do to change my circumstances. The clichĂ© of “sink or swim” was rather literal in this dream. I have gratitude to see that I chose to swim. I’m even more pleased to see that I had strength to do things I didn't know that I could do!

The massive bridge/infrastructure is God (Higher Power). It is rather comforting to see this place of refuge, connection, and support.  It is interesting to see that God is representative not in a single entity but in a complex, multi-dimensional collection of structures. It was like a hub of activity.  Those that I saw who just remained alone, not seeking help, represent those wounded and hurt souls who are still accepted and loved by God. I see that there is a responsibility to respond to God’s love and provision. Finally, those who were willing to offer rides are those in recovery such as sponsors who are offer help to those who want it.

It’s an interesting take on The Healing Lane. I can’t take any credit for this, I just record it as a part of my journey, and rest in the gratitude for the gift that it is.

Wednesday, March 26, 2014

Speaking with Intentionality: Details on The Sara Canvas

Last week I had a surprisingly difficult day emotionally. I felt challenged in oddly old familiar ways that I did not care to revisit. A brief return of old thoughts about not being and doing enough, of not performing well, of the slow pace of recovery encroached on my bliss.  To counteract this, I reminded myself that I have done a lot this past year and of progress I’d made toward healthy living. It occurred to me that having this blog allows me to actually look at my progress by just reading what I had written about a year ago. I was wonderfully rewarded with a post from March 18, 2013, a year ago to the date of my troubled day. The posting is called “The Sara Canvas”. It is about my vision of myself as I entered into this new season of my life. This segment in particular was helpful:

This Sara canvas will have some richness to it. I see the woman who has overcome a lot, but the overriding victory is the absence of addictive behaviors. I have been imagining what it is like to live in contentment and to not be drawn to eating or smoking to fill a void or to avoid feeling pain. This contrasts previous dreams of being thin or being “happy”. This canvas has more depth because it is about an inside job. I believe I will be thin, too, but the real transformation is within. This is because this Sara has grown up and is now a FFA (my short for fully functioning adult), and enjoys the benefits of healthy adulthood. She relates from a place of worthiness; she makes decisions from a place of wholeness and maturity; she exhibits appropriate vulnerability. Her emotions are freely shared, but contained for her sake and others. She is ok with herself and being single, but is an excellent companion as well.

I can hardly describe what I felt as I read these words and realized for the most part, that they had or are coming true. The work has been paying off, and I am living the rewards of showing up for myself.

A dear friend has suggested that I again put to pen with intentionality what is ahead. I see the power in this because after I wrote about my vision, I didn’t rehearse and refer back to it. I didn't focus on this but I received it into my soul and spirit, where it lived.

I reflect tonight about my present situation. I am finishing up a three week weight loss program, wearing jeans that I haven’t worn in the last year. I feel love and acceptance, have self-esteem, can identify a peace within. Life is very good. What does better, or more appropriately, what does healthier look like? I return to my canvas to add details.

This Sara has continued to grow inwardly, building on the confidence, love, self-esteem, and self-compassion she now has. She has continued to work on the wounds that manifested in the mounds of fat. With each pound shed, a parallel weight of shame, pain, and anger has also been released. This has allowed the authentic, confident Sara to emerge. She no longer hides behind the weight, but allows her light to shine becoming attractive to those around her. She is becoming more accustomed to people’s compliments, and is aware of no longer needing others’ assurance and approval to feel loved, but can receive such compliments with humility. Singleness has also become comfortable because she likes who she is and enjoys her solitude, her home, and her relationships. This Sara is aware of the necessity to hold healthy boundaries in dating, which by the way, she thoroughly and readily enjoys. She has learned how to manage her home and her finances, putting those fears of insecurity at bay. Enjoying abundant health in her mind, body, soul, and spirit, Sara has come to understand this word serenity.  With gratitude and joy, her love for others is a motivator in sharing her recovery all-the-while knowing this is critical for working and maintaining it. At 50, this Sara knows that the best is still ahead, seeing opportunity and possibility in nearly every situation. She seeks discernment as to which ones are for her to pursue since her interests are wide and deep, having learned to embrace this live-out-loud life that has been her destiny. 

Sunday, March 16, 2014

A Walk in the Park

Some weeks ago I declared an all-out commitment to myself to get to the core of my emotional health issues. I had wanted to start dating to help with the loneliness of being single. Newly divorced, I felt the freedom to pursue romance in my life. The problem became apparent that the kind of man I would attract would likely be in a similar healthy state as I.  That was not going to be good enough.  I also recognized the root of the issue was my own sense of unworthiness due to low self-esteem. I recognized in my intellect that I should and wanted to feel both worth and acceptance of myself, I just didn't. This was evidenced in my behavior to seek approval and acceptance from others, not being able to provide that for myself.

I recall getting indignant with myself, and saying with gritted teeth that I would do whatever needed to be done to get to that place. I was willing to expose and feel whatever was hidden in those recesses of my heart and mind in order to obtain the peace and serenity I longed for. I also remember saying that I knew this would take all of my will, strength, courage, and faith to stay on this path. In comparison, the work of weight loss would be like “a walk in the park”.  I had always equated my weight loss journey as the most challenging thing in my life, and in many ways it is because at the heart of weight loss is the reason why I have overeaten, mindlessly eaten, and eaten whatever I wanted regardless of its nutritional value. Hence, it is an important area of my addictive behaviors that has needed healing. I’m pretty sure I started turning to food for comfort at age three; that's pretty core stuff.

As I've shared in recent posts, I have gotten my miracle and experienced an amazing spiritual awakening (reference step twelve)! I feel God’s love for me in a such an encompassing way that it permeates into my very soul, filling me with acceptance, self-love, resulting in self-esteem. Everything shifted when that miracle happened (February 15, btw). Everything. I am not consumed with dating or men or my future. I don't need to perform or seek approval because I have it already. I don't need others to esteem me because I esteem myself. Having accepted myself just as I am, I have returned to the weight loss issues with a different sense of self. Instead of despair, desperation, guilt, or shame prompting me to lose weight, it is self-love. Because I love myself, I have been able to ask myself what I really want.  I can be honest and acknowledge that my whole self wants a health in all areas, including my body. So on March 5, I said, “it’s time for a walk in the park.” I started a 23-day somewhat radical weight loss plan, laid down the cigarette smoking once again (but with compassion for myself), and said a prayer asking God for help.

Mostly, it has been a steadfast effort of planning and acceptance of my limited choices. I've had some withdrawal issues, and some of the emotions that I have stuffed or puffed “away” (buried) have surfaced. I have not felt deprived or resentful or a victim, though. I am aware of my choices and I am just working on maintaining the course ahead of me. The joy of my new found acceptance and love has been sustaining me, mostly. There are struggles, but compared to previous efforts and compared to the recovery work I've been doing…it is like a walk in the park!

Today, I went to Tubac with family and friends. We shopped a bit, and I found different items at shops that I was tempted to buy. Each time, I got this prompting to put the items back on the shelf as there just might be something at the next shop.  There is a wonderful boutique called “Lily’s” that my mother really wanted to see. I could see why when I went inside. There were a lot of things that caught my eye, but I became suddenly drawn to a painting behind the counter. I soon learned the story behind the painting. It is of a stream and a walkway from a park in Kansas City. Having grown up in Iowa, I especially appreciated the familiar beauty in the picture. The artist, Lyle Collister, told me that she would take walks there as a child with her father and that she had such fond memories of that. The original name of the painting was Paradise, but she had renamed it A Walk in the Park. Imagine that. 

It became clear to me that this painting was for me. I knew my God, whom I call Father, was telling me that we were on this “walk in the park” together and that I was not alone during my journey (including my renewed commitment to weight loss; I have lost 70 pounds and want to lose 80 more).  I find peace and serenity in this picture, and it represents a safe place for me. It’s not only the picture itself, but the story behind the picture, and how the details came together for my edification and blessing. It is a reminder of His love for me by showing me in such personal ways that He is real and caring. I have shared this story a few times today; I tear up every time. I sit here as I finish this post and I am in amazement, humility, and peace.  My thought tonight is that I shall pull over to the side of the Lane to take time to appreciate, to soak in this love and feel that connection with the One Who Loves Me. 

A Walk in the Park by Lyle Collister



Tuesday, March 4, 2014

Am I OK with Myself Right Now?

I got this from my friend Erma this morning. She references our talk which followed my having experienced a paradigm shift during my therapy session.

Good morning! As you were talking yesterday, I wanted to shout out, "Wow, Sara, you're already losing lots of weight. I can hear you; you look so much lighter already." The image I saw was you walking over to the scale in your home, and then you standing on it and you were really pleased to see what it said. But it wasn't numbers. It was a message about the fact that you had lost burdens, thoughts, opinions, everything that has been weighing you down and that you were in fact much lighter now. You had lost a lot of weight by letting go of all the things that were not yours to carry. Your composure was serene and content with a small nod of gratitude. It was amazing! And so are you, my friend!

That’s the realization…that I am actually OK with myself right now. I actually love who I am, and the pressure to do more, be more (or less if you consider that one of the issues is weight loss!), and keep achieving comes from the expectation of earning and pleasing. Now I will share how I got there.

Last Friday I wrestled with thoughts to stop smoking (yes, I am dealing with this again). There is some shame around this, and yet, as I neared the end of my pack of cigarettes I had feelings of panic. So I asked myself “would there be a situation where I could see myself quitting?” I knew if someone asked me to do it for them based on their need that I could and would stop for their benefit. That bothered me, and so I asked myself why I couldn't do it for myself. Deep inside, I heard this reference to being a “big girl” and doing whatever was asked of me. Being a big girl is really about performing for someone else. I can hear and sense the feelings about being a big girl for daddy or mommy, or the teacher, or my grandparents. Being a big girl is linked to wanting or needing or expecting to be helpful...be useful, compliant, obedient, responsible, pleasant,… And I realized that I did not want to be a big girl.  In this, I mean that I recognized I was identifying with that little girl presently, and that I did not want to stop smoking.

Yesterday, I saw the connection to my comforting myself (through smoking for instance) and this big girl memory. I’m taken back to age three when I gave up my finger sucking and the pillow I snuggled (I’ve mentioned this in other postings) after my mother asked me to stop (“Big girls don’t suck their fingers…”). This pattern of my willingness to do this “tough thing” as in denying myself of some pleasure for instance so that I may get approval and love (and not feel rejected?) dates back to this time which is why it surfaced again. Without the main means of comforting myself at age three led to a lifelong replacement in food, and later, in cigarettes. It’s a pretty clear connection why these would become my default, go-to means of comforting.

I brought all these thoughts and feelings to the therapy room yesterday, completely expecting to deal with my hesitancy and move towards doing “the right thing” of quitting smoking and getting on track to lose weight. That was just a logical expectation to me. Of course I would need to do these things…the sooner the better…because I need to work on that next step, the next level, get that approval, keep seeking more.  By doing this, it will lead me where I need to go and to be. And at that place is where I will feel loved and be accepted and have it together. It wasn't about being physically healthier, but about meeting an external expectation.

It all shifted when Debra asked me this question, “Are you ok with where you are? Do you love yourself right now?” I paused…for quite a while. Tears formed while I meditated on that question, and she wanted to know why the tears. The realization that I am happy; that I am ok with myself brought some of the tears because it seems almost audacious of me to be ok with myself; actually, absurd that I could feel ok, especially at this weight. Yet, there it was…an acceptance of who I am right now. It is a product of all this wonderful love I have felt from God. I just hadn’t seen it or realized how it is shifting the way I see myself. I suppose it is the layer effect, and this one was now exposed in all its richness.

The link to being three is the feeling that I am being asked to change something that I am ok with. I’m pretty sure that I was ok with my finger sucking when I was three; others weren't. Oddly enough, I’m ok right now just as I am. There is an external pressure to have me change. I know that from this place of acceptance that when I do approach these same issues of smoking and weight loss that it will come from a loving place within me rather than an external one where I’m seeking to be loved. I look forward to sharing that experience as well. Today, I’m set for cruising. 

Tuesday, February 25, 2014

Let’s Soak in This for Awhile

I reflect today on the feelings of emerging from a three-month soaking.  Somewhere in the fall I knew I was in a different season of recovery and I didn't much care for it. It is when I stopped blogging altogether, I had physical limitations with my neck and shoulder, and I felt stuck because I didn't feel like I was moving.  There is a difference I have learned between being stuck, and being still.

In this recovery journey, there have been those moments I call “a-ha” awareness or “you-have-got-to-be-kidding me” awareness, or the gut-wrenching “great, now that I see this, what next?” awareness.  (That last one is a butt-kicker, by-the-way.)  My instinct response to a new awareness is to move forward.  Let’s just clip along, get this dealt with, and get over it. That is not The Therapist’s response. Hers: “Now, just let it soak.”

The first time she told me this was over the phone when I had phoned her in desperation. I was a crying mess, I had feelings and memories surface about my childhood that were extremely painful. I wanted to medicate, flee, do SOMETHING, to move out of that pain.  And her reply to the appeal…”just be with it for now.”  For us doers, that really is like a sentence term. Not doing something is to not perform and to not produce…it’s not moving forward! I remember thinking “This soaking, being, baking, resting, sit-with-it stuff may be needed for some, but not me. I get it, now let’s get on with it.” The problem is I didn’t have enough tools to know what to do with what had just been uncovered. I had no choice but to sit and soak.  Well, actually I did have a choice. I could medicate. Fortunately, I did not choose that path.

So soaking has become a part of the recovery process for me.  Work, read, pray, press-in, meditate, discuss, reflect, soak,…the process was working rather well.  I got used to the ebb and flow. I've written quite a bit about my journey.  And then the postings stopped, as did the familiar ebb and flow. I didn't write because I didn't know what to write. I felt stuck. I complained to Debra. She said she would let me know if she felt that my recovery wasn't progressing. Yes, I continued to deal with things in my life - for instance the issue of my love addiction took a front row seat to the work I was doing. But it still felt awkward and uncomfortable. I wanted to feel a shift. I wanted more evidence.

At one session, Debra gave me her baking a cake analogy: in essence, the combining of cake ingredients does not produce a cake until it is baked. (I got a much longer, elaborate version, or course!)  I had a lot of ingredients deposited in me and I needed to allow time for them to bake. Given my sugar and flour abstinence, we will return to the soaking metaphor. 

The days became weeks which then became months.  I call it my “Season of Soaking.”  I often questioned whether I was making any progress or not. Actually, I do kind of relate to that cake just sitting there wondering if anything is happening. And low and behold, something did!

In the last few weeks I have felt less cake-like but instead like a bloom bursting forth or the butterfly emerging from its cocoon. My recent blog postings To be Cherished by The One Who Loves Me and My Vision Revisited give insight to the wonderful things happening within me. I am indeed grateful and joyful and very much in a totally new place. This post is to acknowledge the value in what I couldn't see was so important – that there is something to that soaking. During that time I didn't stop doing my work. I didn't stop reflecting, pressing in, meditating, and reading. The awareness continued, but with far less fervor.

My God, has courted me, loved me, and cherished me. From that has come a sense of value and self-esteem, and so much, that I would gladly soak another umpteen months to receive these gifts. There are others, too. I have awareness around the idea of being still. One aspect of that is to relax…to chill…to rest in what is being done, has been done, and what is yet to come. It is a new awareness all in itself.  I get it. Be still; soak; let God do His work.

Wednesday, February 19, 2014

To be Cherished by The One Who Loves Me

In recovery, we talk about our Higher Power, the God of our understanding, and various elements to a spiritual awakening. I reflect on recent events and the life-changing gift to me where I know I crossed over to a new place in recovery where serenity replaces insanity.

The context begins with my efforts to undercover how my behavior as a love addict shows up in my life. Most obvious is the holding onto and remaining in a relationship that is unhealthy.  There are other elements around having few healthy boundaries, feeling empty and incomplete when alone, the need to rescue and/or be rescued to name a few. I uncovered an area in my life that I hadn't seen as part of this addiction – assigning magical qualities to others and then after idealizing them, blame them for not fulfilling our fantasies and expectations.

Facing this pattern of mine – I have done this in romantic, family, friend, and recovery relationships – has not been pleasant by any means. Most recently when I saw this in an important relationship to me, I wanted to hide, to ignore it, pretend it really wasn't there, minimize it.  The fears of losing the relationship and feeling rejected were very present. However, I reviewed my options. The only suitable and acceptable one in my world was to just press on by accepting the consequences. The amazing thing is that once I did that, and decided to own my behavior, feelings, and thoughts, the negative power behind the fears disseminated. I had a whole new outlook before me. I felt strength and hope and began picturing how I can show up as a healthy adult in not only that one, but in all my relationships.

That night and the next morning, a transformation happened.  The mostly head knowledge of being loved and cherished by God became heart knowledge. I felt from within His amazing acceptance and love. I describe this as being cherished. I could see myself through new lens. Then this amazing gift of being loved permeated into my being and I could believe that if God loved me through and through, who am I to not believe that? By golly, then I am lovable! I am beautiful! And I am a catch! That is how it came to me…those three sentences. So I have been repeating them several times a day. It is making a difference!

As I meditate on what God has been showing me about His care for me in the details of my life I realize that He has been courting me! He has diligently been giving me all sorts of indications that He has His eye on me…that He finds me irresistible (there is a wink in there I believe). This morning I had the privilege of sharing my experience, strength, and hope around my recent gift – I call it “The Miracle” – and in reviewing it, I see the change in me.

This [knowing that I am cherished by God] is what I've come to realize that recovery is all about. When we are trying to get power, control outcome, obtain something out of our control – these all belong to God – then my life becomes unmanageable. The inner peace marked by serenity comes with the love, acceptance, and worthiness we each have as His creation.  We can’t earn it, lose it, or change it. No one can provide that for me but I can receive it for myself.

Wednesday, February 5, 2014

My Vision Revisited

Today marks the one year anniversary of The Healing Lane. At the urging of my friends and therapist, I decided to start a blog about my recovery. This is my 60th post and I am grateful to have this forum to share my thoughts, to journal my story, and to chronicle my recovery. There is something very therapeutic for me in writing this blog. I have often felt the nervousness from being so vulnerable in spite of my willingness to be open and honest about this struggle. I appreciate the comments from friends and followers about the blog, with appreciation for sharing with me when it has provided insight, understanding, or even humor.

Today’s gift came this morning when I got the thought to think of my little Sara as an adult. I felt that God was showing me how to grow this image of myself as this precious little girl into what I would want for her if she were my own daughter. He was asking me to start envisioning what preciousness looks like at age 25, 35, or even 50. This exercise has me considering the potential for redirecting my own energies about myself. In particular, I believe He is showing me how to re-frame the feelings about myself that are buried deep within, yet are powerfully and negatively impacting me.

This inner child work is difficult for me. Debra has been giving me exercises that involve working with the thoughts and feelings of a very young me. We call her little Sara. There is a well of sadness and silence, encasing the depth of her wanting to be accepted, loved, approved, and seen. The adorable blonde, curly-haired, blue-eyed little angel covered up so much of her authentic self in an effort to be loved as she understood it. She took on the adult thoughts around her, suppressing her own childhood desires and I believe without a lot of signs to indicate the coping behavior. She was agreeable, dependable, responsible, happy, and to most adults, the dream child. And she was rewarded for all this good behavior. So what was missing? Temper tantrums and expressions of her needs. I am starting to understand that she didn't want to have needs. She didn't know how to voice wanting them met, and the guilt and shame for having them has permeated her for 40 some odd years. There is no blame; there isn’t any anger about this. I am learning to accept and understand that of no intention, this was how I adapted my behaviors to get the approval, love, and attention I desired. And if I didn't have a boatload of addictive behaviors indicating something is amiss, I wouldn't be dealing with this today. 

This little girl loved life and she was mostly happy. In part, she was loved because she did behave so very well. She didn’t get all she needed, but she got a lot. There are gifts to draw upon. There is strength to muster. There is love to receive and to give. The story continues because I have not given up on her story, which of course is me today. I want to get to the heart and soul of why I do things that are not in my best overall healthy interest.  Like for instance...the marked question that set me on this path..."why did I tolerate the intolerable for 24 years?" 

So when God asked me about my little Sara, there is quite a context of work I’ve been doing in learning to love her, love me, and overcome the pain of today.  What would I want for my little Sara when I see her as an adult? What is the vision I have for little Sara as a fully functioning adult Sara – forgetting that little Sara is now the big Sara of today. Let’s just say I am able to start over…what would I envision her to be like?

Most importantly, I would want her to feel loved. My guess is that we all want that for our children. So of COURSE I want her to know love for herself and from others. I would want her to experience the joy of living and giving. I would want her to feel empowered and enriched by the experiences in and through her environment. I would want her to feel comfortable in her own skin – to accept the flaws, strengths, gifts, warts, beauty, personality, assets, shortcomings, and imperfections that make her who she is. I would want her to know her worth and to make her mark in this world. I want her to ultimately fulfill her purpose in life – the reason God brought her into this world. I would not want her to allow others’ opinions of her to negatively affect her opinion of herself.  I envision confidence, joy, love, peace, acceptance, authentic living. Yes, most definitely, I envision her loving herself and others, and being loved.

To realize that this is what my own mother has wanted for me too is very important. She continues to pray for these very kinds of things, and is willing to do whatever she can to help see this come to pass in my life (and hers). The precious little Sara that I hold in my heart is the Sara that she birthed, held in her arms, and desired for all good and wonderful things to come to her. I have come to understand that those deep needs that still exist from my childhood are  my opportunities. I am able to parent myself and co-parent with God to meet those needs.  

I am starting to grasp that even greater than my own vision or even my mother’s vision for me, is God’s vision for me. How He sees me, how He loves me, and how He is working on my behalf is the real key to acceptance and healing. My spiritual lesson is to receive that.  My battle is to combat the thoughts, feelings, and behaviors that go AGAINST this truth.  To continue in the negative images and beliefs is the crux of my unmanageability. It leads me down paths of destruction and pain.

This blog is The Healing Lane. It is about revisiting the past for restoration and redemption. I have gratitude today. It is a cruising day as I often call them, for the recognition of my progress – not perfection – and for where I'm headed. That's the Vision Revisited. 

Tuesday, January 28, 2014

Facing the Scale

Last week I implemented the “take it one day at a time” recovery plan. I pulled out the Al-Anon poem “Just for Today” and realized that I can refrain from smoking just for today. And so I didn't smoke that day. Nor the next. Nor the next. And today I am still saying "just for today" I won’t smoke. I’m seeing that it is building strength.

So in this newly acquired strength, I decided yesterday morning that I was going to face another area I've been avoiding – my weight. I hadn't weighed myself for three months, so this was very much a step from avoidance toward acceptance. I thought, “Whatever it is, I will just have to deal with it.”  I had a number in my head that I was prepared for, and just prayed it wasn't more than that. So I pulled out the scale and after I got on it, I thought, “Well, great. Now my scale is broken. How am I going to know what I really weigh?” I began conjuring up all sorts of ideas of getting a clear read to see how off my scale was. Then the thought came to me: maybe my scale isn't wrong. Just maybe that is my weight.  I began assessing the situation with more thought as to the fit of my clothes and so on. So I decided that I would accept the verdict: I am 12 pounds less than I thought I was! After all, I was still wearing the same clothes I wore when I knew I weighed that. A big weight gain would likely require a different set of clothes. The facts started to mount in favor of the scale being accurate. Hmmm. How often do I ignore the facts while allowing my thoughts to make up their own reality?

Perhaps a little more reflection on this could provide some insight into why I do what I do. Let me provide a better context for my thinking why I had gained 15 pounds. The last few months have not been easy for me - the last round of divorce dealings, the physical limitations from a sore back and neck, along with an overall emotional constipation all combined to produce this sense of stagnancy in my recovery. I complained about it to Debra on more than one occasion. During this time, I returned to smoking, stopped following the eating plan that I have determined as optimal for my health, and battled with love addiction behaviors. Those responses brought feelings of failure and a defeatist mentality. In addition, by my not maintaining an exercise program, I was all too aware of the shift in my body’s tone and overall feeling. Failure was all too familiar and I was feeling fat. In my mind, I was much heavier than evidently I am, not to ignore that I had indeed gained some weight just not 15 pounds, more like 3 since November. This speaks to the extremes we codependents and addicts often go. I had focused all too much on what I wasn't doing for myself while not acknowledging what I actually was doing on behalf of my recovery health.  I hadn't given up on myself, and I have had some of the toughest battles since starting recovery. 

I can smile at seeing the irony in not believing the scale. There are several gifts in this for me. First up, geez – that’s 12 pounds I don’t have to lose yet again! I don’t have to buy a new scale either.  Even more valuable, is that I was prompted to be more honest with myself in a positive manner. I see this pattern of mine to be willing to look at my mistakes, my part in the failure of my marriage, my shortcomings, my weaknesses and strongholds. It is far more difficult for me to affirm my efforts and acknowledge my accomplishments, my strengths, and my assets. This experience is just one of many that illustrate the need to avoid the extremes but rather be comfortable in that middle area we call “the gray”.  That is where I find acceptance of my weaknesses and strengths; where they coexist and I’m neither more nor less lovable.  I can live with that. It is a nice thought as I set course in some Lane coasting today.

Just for Today
    Just for today I will try to live through this day only, and not tackle all my problems at once. I can do something for twelve hours that would appall me if I felt I had to keep it up for a lifetime.
     Just for today I will be happy. This assumes to be true what Abraham Lincoln said, “that most folks are as happy as they make up their minds to be.”
     Just for today I will adjust myself to what is, and not try to adjust everything to my own desires. I will take my luck as it comes, and fit myself to it.
     Just for today I will try to strengthen my mind. I will study. I will learn something useful. I will not be a mental loafer.  I will read something that requires effort, thought and concentration.
     Just for today I will exercise my soul in three ways: I will do somebody a good turn, and not get found out; if anybody knows it, it will not count. I will do at least two things I don’t want to do just for exercise. I will not show anyone that my feelings are hurt; they may be hurt, but today I will not show it.
     Just for today I will be agreeable. I will look as well as I can, dress becomingly, keep my voice low, be courteous, criticize not one bit. I won’t find fault with anything, nor try to improve or regulate anybody but myself.
     Just for today I will have a program. I may not follow it exactly, but I will have it. I will save myself from two pests:  hurry and indecision.
     Just for today I will have a quiet half hour all by myself and relax. During this half hour, sometime, I will try to get a better perspective of my life.
     Just for today I will be unafraid. Especially I will not be afraid to enjoy what is beautiful and to believe that as I give to the world, so the world will give to me.


Friday, January 24, 2014

My View from the Shadows

There is a consistent theme to my recovery meditations and feedback this week: assess your progress.  On several occasions I have been asked to think on my life a year ago and then reflect on where I am today. That is Higher Power speaking to me without question. It is time to get current. I recognize that I have not posted on this blog for three months and I must admit I have some guilt over that. It doesn't feel good. This blog is an important tool for my recovery and not using it has not been to my benefit. That in itself isn't very Healing Lane behavior.

The last three months have presented challenges so very different that the previous fifteen when I have been able to describe the pace and feel of clipping along in The Lane. The growth pains, the awareness, the breakthroughs, the new perspectives, and so forth have all been a very real and tangible part of my recovery. I have been able to reflect with honesty and vulnerability my experiences.  Through the ups and downs, I managed to find myself back to that current within the Healing Lane. And then came November.

I wouldn't say today that I left the Lane. However, it feels completely different. I have been looking for the obvious signs of recovery; the obvious feelings of recovering. My biggest struggle was indeed not feeling that I was making progress. There has been a lack of tangible evidence, or so I thought. I likened it to a weight-loss plateau. I have felt a wall, a ceiling, being stagnant.  Meanwhile, some unhealthy behaviors returned. This part isn't’t easy for me, but my commitment to be honest requires that I put this out there. I returned to smoking; I began eating some foods that I normally don’t eat; and I found myself numbing in different ways such as computer games and shopping. However, in my disclosure I will acknowledge that I also finished my weaning of the anti-depressant I’d been taking for 9 ½ years. I began attending additional meetings to help me address my love addiction. I had some on-going neck and back issues (noted correlation) and a cold that lasted for a month. There were holidays and travels and perhaps worth noting, my divorce was finalized.

Wouldn't it be nice if we could easily package up our thoughts, feelings, issues and just plot out our recovery plan? It doesn't work that way. Life just doesn't work that way. And really…when it is all said and done, I don’t think I would want to be so prepared anyway. The unknown is certainly frightening. “What next?!” But it has some appealing aspects, too. If I knew everything that needed to happen, when it should happen, and how to handle it…well, first I’d have some sort of insider deal with God and secondly, I likely wouldn't need all this recovery anyway. Heck, I’d have insight that I currently don’t have and I could use it for all sorts of good. No, the appealing aspect of the unknown is that God has all kinds of ways to teach me how to handle things, and to show me His love for me by handling the things I don’t need to handle. Serenity prayer comes to mind.

Yes, it is pretty much summed up in that prayer. Learning what are the things I am to change, what things are not mine, and the wisdom to know the difference. The important lesson for me is that I am not in charge! I am (still) powerless to the things that belong to God and when I try to behave otherwise my life starts to become unmanageable. The resistance to all that has been going on with me is that I wanted to be in charge. I wanted to feel like I was making progress. I wanted to see improvement and what I eventually began to understand, is that I was trying to earn my own worthiness by doing my recovery “well”. No wonder I wasn't feeling so serene.

During this time I have been wrestling with a lot of old, defeating tapes playing while still holding onto the awareness I've obtained this far and utilizing the tools of recovery available to me. The sense of failure has been a big one. Shame spirals do not promote healing, and I have had to consistently confess that I have allowed negative thoughts to bounce around in my head. The hope I share is that I recognize that I was wrestling – I did not give up, not forfeit, not throw in the towel. I remained in the battle. That recognition and affirmation of my efforts is a very significant change. I can’t wrap it up and present it as nicely or clearly as some of my other lessons and breakthroughs. But it is a biggie. It is the change I have sought.

So it comes back to the basics. Acceptance. Let go and let God. Gratitude. Progress not perfection. I am so thankful for today and for taking the time to reflect on the view from the Lane. It has felt obscured, but sometimes it is shadowy and not quite so scenic. Yet, I recognize, it is still part of the journey and down the Lane I go.