Tag: recovery

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Why are you running away?

tec

Part of my sponsee homework this week was to flesh out my higher power a bit more. Not necessarily to share with Beth, but to have a more tangible and articulated foundation for myself.

Chris and I had this two hour conversation tonight that rocked my night. I love those nights where we set up the computer to watch Heroes, but then fall into deep, connected conversation instead. The world falls away and it’s just him and me in this moment.

And it wasn’t until we had this two hour long conversation that I truly grasped the validity and necessity of forming and articulating your higher power. In part for myself, which I’ll expound on in a minute, and in part for Chris because he’s been in this process of working his fourth step for a couple months now. And it’s completely his journey and I want him to walk it as such, and at the same time, I know it’s been a hard process–one I don’t have experience to speak on–and it’s been on my radar that he hasn’t written anything yet. I imagine it’s a crazy hard thing to sit and explore and he’s so incredibly brave to even go there. Tonight, with our talking, as I articulated my higher power and he shared how he’s been fleshing out his own, I realized the beauty of the sequence of the first four steps.

How can you write out a “searching and fearless moral inventory” of yourself alone? That sounds terrifying and traumatic. That’s not a process I’d want Chris to endure without a solid higher power. You got a clear picture of your higher power tho? That sounds terrifying and completely doable. That’s the experience I prefer for him.

I haven’t done my fourth step yet. I’m not there. Tonight’s conversation was pivotal to all of this tho. I was saying how I had this solid higher power picture. I was saying my foundation is solid. So freaking solid. But also, I’m a sponsee for a reason and I don’t claim to know all the things. Beth wants me to be able to come to a point of articulation. Cool, I can comply with that. And I even said to Chris, “so while *I* feel I’m set with my higher power picture, Beth, she’s the poker and she comes in to poke at my views to show me what’s strong and what needs work.”

I know my place. Even when I want to snarkily boast about my evolvedness.

So I eloquently tell Chris about my higher power.

My higher power is the universe. I unquestionably view the universe as a thing that will always take care of me without exception. It is always looking out for my best interest, and the best interest of all.

As an added characteristic, I also view my higher power as a parent, who, when I come to it, vulnerable and broken and damaged and hurt, it will always show up with open arms, always wrap me in comfort and will leave no room for me to believe anything except that I am all-loved.

That is my higher power.

(Pretty cool, huh?)

And then, I played Beth in my head for a moment (poke poke poke) and considered “ahh, my higher power only works in the present.”

OH MY FREAKING GOD–

(No pun intended.)

I have spent all this time with a freaking kickass higher power and I only let him play with present me. Oftentimes I think about including him in future me stuff, but it’s not really in a tangible way. Never do I let him interact with past me.

This is where I call upon my inner Julie and allow her to say, “what would it mean to you that the universe was looking out for past Jill?” That past me-the scared little girl me–is safe with the universe. That she was being looked after back then, as well as right now–if I so chose to dive into the psyche of all that.

And I guess my immediate, involuntary response is, “Fuck you, you can’t be trusted. She got hurt and you didn’t look out for her at all.”

……

Well, that was unexpected. I probably have some work to do there. That was very honest and vulnerable of me. I was expecting to go somewhere else with all that. I was expecting that posing the question would bring a sense of relief and provide an immediate safe haven where past Jill could come out to play and heal.  I expected immediate growth here and the opportunity to wrap it up in a neat little bow and call it a day. Figuratively and literally.

Instead I think I’m just going to call it a day and sleep instead. And think on this again tomorrow. There is time for forgiveness in tomorrow.

xo.

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Yesterday a child came out to wonder.

tec

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It feels like this was specifically written for me. It is words I haven’t been able to find for myself. It’s not answers. But it’s something.

It’s a spark.

I don’t yet have a real grasp on…who I am. I know the what’s. I know I’m silver lining girl and mom and wife. I know I lead with gratitude and kindness and perseverance. I know I practice and practice and practice.

I know I don’t have a clear grasp of my special qualities and skills. I know Chris rolls his eyes when I say “yeah, but everyone is always working toward active growth and progress!” ….which is apparently not quite true. And then he rolls his eyes again when I say, “yeah, but I had no choice to keep going!!” Which…again, apparently, not true.

But I don’t know these things. I thought everyone just kept reaching for more self-awareness and growth. I didn’t know “just keep swimming” was a suggestion.

So here I have these, apparently, special attributes. And a huge lack of confidence to go with them. Apparently I’m super self aware, but only to my weaknesses.

So I’m on a ladder.

And I see soooooooo many people above me. And so many people below me. The people who are also working toward having some of their shit together and who are making so much money. And the people who have no shit together and are raking it in. The people decluttering, but not to the best of my ability (super vulnerable moment here where I admit my judginess. Which I totally realize stems solely from my own insecurity…). Or worse yet, they’re not decluttering to the best of their ability! And they don’t even care! (vulnerable moment #2 because fuckin’ a, other people are none of my business and I know this and I’m making them my business anyway!) The people who are drowning in depression or anxiety or addiction. The people drowning in their spouse’s addictions. The people who sound like they’re sucking up to people I admire and having their response be eaten up. Me, being publicly vulnerable, and reaching out to these same people I admire, and having their responses feel lacking when I confide. Then I second guess myself and wonder if I sounded….sucking up-esque.

Ohmygosh, I’ve just gone back and reread what I wrote and it all sounds exhausting! There are so many people on the ladder and I haven’t learned how to turn my brain off about them! Or about myself!

Mostly, not turning my brain off has only served to make me feel inferior. And then I constantly have this sense of “I can’t do anything right” when it comes to interacting with others. And all I want is to connect with people and all I’ve managed so far is to make that impossible.

I lead with love on the surface, but below the surface I am waiting in fear for the next person to pounce me and put me in my place or tell me I’m wrong or that I’m no good.

I feel like I’m getting closer. I feel like the puzzle pieces are moving around and a clearer picture is trying to come into focus. I can feel the uncomfortable forces of change stirring around me–stirring within me. I know it’s time to dig deep and lean into it. I know I’m scared. I know it’s worth it. I know, one day, I will feel worth it.

I need to step off the ladder.

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Damn sure better than rain.

tec

I went to my first Al-Anon meeting.

I wasn’t nervous at all when I left for the meeting. When I got there and sat down I was suddenly doing all my nervous things. People were inviting and warm, but also people were inviting and warm. They were paying attention to me and fawning and supportive and caring and gosh, that is a lot.

But I went. And I stayed. And I plan to go back.

Really, I already knew I’d go back before the meeting. I’ve been to AA meetings and OA meetings and I know the program is good. I know the people are supportive.

Well, most of the people. OA was a completely different fish. I once had a man tell me I didn’t belong there because I was too skinny. As if my appearance precludes me from using food as a coping mechanism. As if anyone in food recovery has to forfeit community support once they find healthier tools to survive. But I digress.

Al-Anon isn’t like that. I can be there for any reason, for any timeline in my life, for any alcoholic who has touched my life. And I didn’t really understand until recently that I probably should have been going all along.

I should have gone six years ago when Chris and I started dating. In the days when a small argument could have compromised his short sobriety.  Or when he switched jobs for his dream job and then they insisted he throw away his integrity or quit. And he quit. At an immeasurable hit to his self worth, closing not only that dream in his mind, but a true hope for any dream at all. Or the moment we got pregnant and then miscarried and didn’t get to keep Caleb and he retreated from life for a bit. I could have used Al-Anon when his doctor and seizure medication fucked him over completely. Or when he started taking another medicine he put all his faith in and it backfired and, for all intents and purposes, took away his sobriety. For three years.

I could have used Al-Anon. I could have used the support and guidance of people. And I just…I didn’t know better. I didn’t know there was help for me for all of that or where to find it or, really, that I needed the help. That I deserved the help. I thought maybe that’s just how it was going to be from now on. I knew I needed help–wanted help–, but I didn’t know the help I needed was possible to receive. That it was out there.

And so now here I am. Going to meetings. Getting the community I have so desperately needed. Allowing myself the self-care of actual help. Of not going at it alone. Of being told I’m braver and stronger for showing up than I ever was of trying to hold it together by myself. And so I’m gonna keep doing this awhile.

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Some kind of light at the end.

tec

I’m not going to eat tonight. I’m so tired from making decisions I shouldn’t have been making. I’m so exhausted I could cry.

I’m so exhausted I didn’t realize I was already crying.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to catch up from the last week. I don’t think I’ll ever try. I think I will just blank slate it. And I will just sleep instead. And maybe sometime tonight my skin will pass by Chris’s skin and he won’t shudder. Because finally finally he has found his way back to me.

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Don’t complicate it.

tec

I love this blog. I often think of it ridiculously fondly and I’m just so glad it exists.

I also love my daughter’s boyfriend. He feels like a genuinely nice boy. More on that when I’m better slept.

It’s 11pm now. I’m out of decision juice. I’ve been out of it for a good long time. In fact, I’m pretty sure I started the day out of it. I didn’t sleep enough and that skewed my everything. Chris stopped taking an addictive (and no longer necessary) medication on Friday. His morning dose was the last one and this three year battle is finally coming to an end. It’s going to change so many things for the better and I couldn’t be more proud of him.

The side effects are terrible tho and will continue to be for a little while. Far less terrible than the damage of being on the drug. I’m so happy for him and relieved and…cautious. Especially because of his seizure disorder. So we’ve taken it one minute at a time this weekend. It also meant I was up til 3am this morning, and the dog woke me to play at 7:30. And now it’s 11 and I’m still up.

All that is to say that I didn’t have the energy to stop making decisions today. (Counterintuitive much?) Decisions that go against my greatest good. I kept consciously making decisions that went against what my brain was telling me to do. There were good moments too. Practicing moments. Where I didn’t decide and just let all the things be. I reminded myself I had nothing to decide. And for that I’m extremely proud of myself. Tomorrow is another day. And I feel good about it. But first, so much sleep.

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Get you out of my head.

tec

Now comes the part I don’t know what to do with.

I ate my pretty lunch.

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Now what?

‘Cause what I want to do is eat something else too. I used to never snack, and now I feel like I exclusively snack. I don’t want to cold turkey it. I want this transition to feel….not terrible. Yet I’m left here in a bit of limbo.

So I’ve decided I’ll have a handful of tostitos in a bowl and call it good. I can eat again later when it’s time for another meal.

After that I will get back to laundry and potty training my sweet (sleepy) pup.

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How do you navigate your non-food hungers? What are your go-to snacks? I’d love to engage with the people who “like” my posts. I’m sure all of you aren’t bots….probably…

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Just wait and see.

tec

I know I’m in “get ready for vacation” mode, and that’s probably all it is, but the joy of purging and cleaning and being productive toward the goals I’ve been working toward for months has turned to mist before my eyes. It feels like, in this moment, the life has been sucked out of me.

I’m still go go go because I’m getting the house ready and packing and doing last minute things. But it’s all for a very specific, short term goal. And that seems easy. But the thought of working for a goal that is long term feels…nauseating.

I’m certain this will pass. I’m certain it’s nothing to even worry about. I just needed to acknowledge it. Because it felt healthier than pretending it wasn’t there.