A Course in Gratitude

A lot can change in three years.

I am one of those people who reflects on “this day in history” and now even more so in my own life. I have always been an historian of sorts, keeping track of important dates, even getting my post-baccalaureate in education to teach history. I have a timeline running in my head that I post information provided to me from people and in my own life. At certain times of the year, the timeline becomes vibrant. Holidays are like that. Certain seasons are like that. July is very much that for many reasons, but this post is about one week in particular.

Three years ago this week my husband moved out of our house. It was unexpected and surreal in nature. I had gone to work, even plotting how to move out maybe over the weekend. I feared confronting him, anticipating a big blow-up with lots accusations and rage. What happened instead, is that his brother confronted him and within hours, he had instead moved out and I was walking the halls of my home noticing the lifting of the oppressive spirit that permeated my home for years. I walked around in disbelief. Could it have been that simple? Could the split-up have taken me more by surprise? I had wanted this for many years, not choosing it for a number of reasons. Only days before had it become clear to me that I reached the end of my rope. 

I sat on the patio for the first time in ages; it, too, was an uncomfortable place because it had that “presence” there. Now, freed from his glares, anger, and resentment, I sat with myself and my new reality. I  remember thinking, I would like a cigarette. It occurred to me that I could smoke right there on my patio and no one was there to judge me, criticize me, or create a hostile environment. I promptly went and bought a pack of cigarettes and smoked a bunch of them. It was an act of liberation for me, even if I did have to contend with the negative aspects of the smoking behavior later.

Debra was recommended to me by another therapist I had consulted to get some counsel on what to do with this new information I had learned about my husband’s behaviors. The dysfunction and disconnect at my house had become nearly unbearable as it was, and I had just learned part of the reasons why it was so. I needed help and I wanted the kind of help that produced results. I know that my Higher Power was looking over me when He connected me with Debra. What an answer to the many prayers I’d said and cried the previous 24 years. My first session with Debra was July 25, 2012. Yes, that one is on my timeline; maybe even with a little star. 

My first appointment I showed up angry at my husband, confused, hurt, and dismayed. I also showed up ready to take action. She recommended Twelve Step programs and told me I would find support. She was right. I did find support. I found a group of people that related to my story, offering experience, strength, and hope. I found out that I can recover from being the partner of an addict, from my own codependency, and from my own addictions. I am experiencing the joy of a life in recovery – the blessings and promises from working the program. I’ve asked myself, and God, why I didn’t find Twelve Step previously. I’ve come to accept that the unfolding of my life is just as it should be. I don’t have to regret the past.

In therapy, I have had had to look inward and had the willingness, fortitude, and commitment to be rigorously honest with myself. This is a requirement of my healing, usually accessed easily but not always. I have spent countless hours doing the necessary work to come to an understanding of why I do what I do, and to learn how to do something differently. It was clear that I had a low sense of self-worth and that tending to myself included putting my needs at the top of my priority list. I’ve said this many times – recovery is not for sissies. Debra has affirmed my efforts throughout my three years of working with her. It is nice to have that validation because it hasn’t been easy, and the work continues. 

I have been replaying the events of three years ago and reflecting on my life today in contrast to what it was like then. Gratitude hardly describes the feeling I have. I am experiencing joy and contentment I haven’t felt in years, if ever. I started therapy, recovery, and this whole process of “getting fixed” because I wanted to be in a relationship that included the loving exchange and acceptance of each other. I’ve learned that the relationship that needed the most healing is with myself, changed by the relationship with the God of my understanding. And now, beautifully and by much of a surprise, I am dating a man with whom I am showing up as my authentic self. He loves me and accepts me as I am. It is far better than I had ever hoped and imagined. Relationships take a whole lot of work regardless, but I now can say that seeking to be healthy and honest produces different results! My relationships with my family and friends are the best ever. Yes, life looks a whole different, and it sure looks a whole lot better!  

Suit Up and Show Up

Yesterday in a texting chat with my dear friend in another state I found myself referencing the common phrase “suit up and show up”. Suiting up can take various forms and although I haven't put oodles of thought into this, ir is worth some reflection.  Sometimes I show up in my business suit: prepared, confident, content. It’s really great to be able to show up feeling and looking great (metaphorically at least,). I"m saying to myself and others that I’ve done the work to be confident, prepared, and content. There is  still work to be done, but I draw on the many resources available to me much as a professional does at work. I wear my business suit far less often than my other suits; it is really nice to see that suit in my closet and to know I do wear it. 

Most often, I show up in my sweatsuit -- not to be in contrast to the business suit, as in lazy. Rather, this is my active, knowing-that-I-have-quite-a-lot-of-work-to-do outfit: my workout gear. There might be some real grit required – blood, sweat, and tears kind of stuff.  I wear this suit most often because I am such a fighter. I strive to get to the heart of the matter and to do the things I need to do to get through whatever is holding me back. I have come to accept what has been told to me about me: I"m a bit of an "all in" kind of person. (I hear the theme to “Rocky” playing.) There is something empowering about the sweatsuit that speaks to recovery.  And just because it is a sweatsuit doesn't mean it isn't stylish or that I don't have on some complimentary jewelry. 

The third is the birthday suit. In this case, the suiting up is actually taking off the pretension, the blinders, and/or the masks. It is getting real. Dreams of me at school or work naked come to mind. This is my vulnerability suit. The one that requires me to risk and to dare greatly. Much like the sweatsuit, birthday suit wearing requires a different mindset.  I'm stretched to the nines because I’m exposed to the world and everyone can see my flaws. It asks for a bit of tenacity and courage as well. I'm thinking that the sweatsuit helps get me to be able to risk taking off my masks. Recovery has required a great deal of vulnerability that is for sure. I’m getting more and more accepting of this truth, and in it, the exposure while wearing this suit.

As I write this, I’m recalling the innocence of an infant and hence the connection to the birthday suit. Debra has been referring to the ego-centric nature of a child. Every need has to be met by the child’s caregiver. Needs that go unmet during childhood I’ve recently learned are “narcissistic wounds”. I haven't cared for that term as it stirs feelings of discomfort around being selfish, self-centered, and needy. Many of us learned at an early age that those are not traits to have. I know that by age four that this belief was well ingrained in me: do not be selfish. This is an interesting topic for me of late because I’m pretty certain that my parents’ intention was to instill a sense of “otherness” in me. Indeed, I learned that sharing was a necessary social rule, as well as consideration of others in general. It is a great trait and I believe in fact that I am a generous, compassionate, and empathetic person. Yet, here I am dealing with issues around this topic and the mere thought of being called "selfish" is gut-wrenching.

What I’m learning, however, is that selfishness as I perceived it also included “neediness” which translated as wanting attention, or perhaps, just to be noticed and cared for more directly and with affection. Neediness therefore in my young mind  (and I'm thinking in my adult mind, too) was "appearing to have a need but really just wanting attention". Neediness is one of the worst traits one can have: a core belief that has perhaps driven much of my actions without my awareness. Needing and wanting attention were simply the needs of a child who wanted to be heard and seen. She wanted to feel important. Pretty standard stuff.

My needs were met, certainly. That is, what I perceived as real needs: food, shelter, clothing, tending to broken bones. There were others, such as those my brothers each had at this time in my life. One was nearly failing school and the other was being bullied. I certainly understood my parents' tending to those issues. I perhaps needed a hug; along with the knowledge of how to ask for it. Seems simple. Why the hell does it take my getting back into my birthday suit to get it figured out? Not sure…but I’m willing to do what it takes to figure it out (sweatsuit?). I am learning how to identify my feelings and the needs associated with those feelings, and then tend to them. As I do, or when that need is met perhaps by another, those narcissistic wounds get healed. That is my understanding anyway, and I’ve been experiencing a bit of that recently. The term is also sounding less bothersome. I'm grasping with greater understanding that children - including me as a child - are by nature needy. It isn't about blame or my folks' parenting even. It is about a need that is still showing up today that once identified, I can tend to as a healthy adult. 

I remain on my Healing Lane, continuing on this path of recovery and learning life’s lessons along the way. I do love this life of discovery and learning to make choices that produce greater happiness.  I’ve come to see the gifts with each step and to recognize that I am growing and changing. That I do suit up, which sometimes involves a bit of just taking it all in. It feels like that today.