RealMental

My anxiety levels peaked about an hour before the time to be there and I panicked as I searched for something to wear, making myself late as usual.

Walking into the church late, you were already in the process of getting married.

I began to cry watching you up there exchanging your vows,  looking so beautiful.  Soon I noticed that you were trembling severely.  I recalled my wedding day and how nervous I was, crying through the whole ceremony.

Your entire body was rocking like you were being electrocuted, and I felt scared for you wondering what could be wrong.

As you walked down the aisle, as a newly married woman you said “don’t hug me, my ribs are broken”.  I knew as soon as you said that, why your ribs were broken.  Your engagement party was the weekend before.  You got drunk and you fell down.  Then I noticed the huge bruise on your forearm that you’d tried to cover up with makeup concealer.

I wasn’t there, I didn’t have to be.  As quickly as you told me, I knew.  My heart fell, knowing that nothing has changed and you are still looking for the answer in a bottle of vodka and drowning.  Trying to kill yourself quietly so you aren’t a burden on anyone.

It seems like a lifetime ago when I was the one drowning.  You took care of me, helped me when I couldn’t walk and talk.  You risked your life being a passenger in my car, driving with a person drunk and stoned out of her mind.

We’re sisters, you and I.  Only eight days apart in age, we’ve grown up together.  Our bond is one that will never be broken, no matter our physical distance.

Watching you in so much pain was unbearable for me knowing that I could do nothing to ease it for you, the day of your wedding.

You’d waited an entire week to go to a Doctor because you didn’t think insurance would cover it.  You’ve held pain in for you whole life.  Stubborn, strong willed, never living for yourself, never honoring your true spirit.

We’ve grown apart, mainly due to life events on both of our parts.  I miss you, and I know you are hiding from me.  Knowing that I will see the truth and feel your discontent.  My concern is almost unbearable for you to see.

You are slipping through my hands, and all I can do is love you as I watch you go.  Watch you dig in deeper to the life you know isn’t yours.  I’ll always be here, you can count on that.

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The darkness decided to come for a visit.  That same cold and lonely darkness that I’m so familiar with, it’s that unwanted family member.  My first thought is if I’ve remembered to take the Effexor and Thyroid Medicine. Yes, I have. The thyroid medicine is not a synthetic drug but makes me very sick if I forget to take it.

The day is spent wondering why about everything.  Why did that man just look at me like that? What does that phone call “really” mean? Why haven’t I been able to solve this problem? Why does it hurt sometimes so much that I can barely breath?

Why, why, why, why?

Due to this being a familiar experience, I regrettably have to note that there is some small amount of comfort in this unwelcome visitor.

Chemically, I’ve done my part with the medicine. Spiritually I’ve done my part. I am not hungry, angry, lonely or tired. Well, maybe I am actually tired. Yes, my sleep patterns have been off and I’m having a very hard time establishing a healthier routine.

A healthier routine is the answer for a lot of things, and I know without any doubt that when I am actively participating in a healthy routine I FEEL GOOD. Not “too” good, just balanced and healthy. Yet, as a human I’m apt to jump off that wheel and ruin all that feel good stuff.

Do other people that do not have mental issues and addictions have to work so hard at staying in the middle of the road? I always wonder about people that don’t suffer from the “crazy”.  Do they question why getting up, taking a shower and feeding ourselves is considered a victory for us on some days?

Some days it just comes. It isn’t because I am bad, wrong, stupid, overweight and ugly.

Some days it just comes.

Maybe if I don’t feed it or clothe it, like I’ve done in the past, it won’t stay too long.

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Shortly after my two older sisters came in from their day journey, it dawned on me that the three daughters and one mother were all in the same house together. It’s not a typical situation, us all being under one roof. Depending on any of our moods, you never know what could happen with all of us together in the same place.

We aren’t the easiest bunch to understand or to deal with, and no one would ever mistake us for a  “safe WASP family.” We argue, we annoy, we fight. We say horrible things to each other, then we kiss and make up. It isn’t always that quick, sometimes months go by before feuding parties speak. We’re better than we used to be.

Despite the reason for us all being there (not a celebration, one of us has become very, very sick), I felt a genuine family tie to these women. These are MY wolves, I love them and together we could probably conquer anything. I love my sisters and my mother deeply.  It isn’t often I feel that kind of raw power and strength.

We’ve been through some really hard times but in that very moment, I love each one of them most of all. They are my roots, we are the same. As we rally around in times of crisis, we forget the petty bullshit arguments that we usually poke each other with.

Having us all together like that can sometimes turn into a dog fight, each dog trying to fight their way to the alpha position with lots of gnawing and gnashing of teeth with threatening growls. We aren’t always together, mainly because one of us lives elsewhere, one of us is drowning in a life of pure chaos, and one spends a lot of time taking care of our mother.

Our mother is the mainstay. She’s always there, sitting in her chair surrounded by her “things”. Empty toilet paper rolls, empty plastic bags, endless mail waiting to be read and coupons ready to be clipped. Her ashtray, her cigarettes, her coffee, our dead dad’s shoes. Everything right within her reach, to guarantee she won’t have to put much effort in retrieving something she might need. She is an agoraphobic hoarder that chain smokes in her house.

If you are visiting, she’ll often put you work fetching her stuff. She can tell you in minute detail exactly where everything is and where to find it. I assume this from years of having our dad retrieve things for her. I often wonder how that man survived all those years with four very strong and sassy women.

I like to believe he’s with us, sometimes I wish more than anything that he was still physically with us. We probably drove that man to his death with all our crazy combined. He loved us, each and every one of us and he was patient and kind and loving and he was exactly where he wanted to be. With us.

It’s good for me to have a moment like this, to realize that despite the dangers of hanging around with wolves, I love them all deeply. They are my pack. It’s up to me to not stay too long after the carcass has been eaten.

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Some time over the holidays, I unlocked another box in my psyche. I like to think this process helps me move forward.

Holidays are usually a big mess for a lot of people from an emotional perspective.  I was relieved when i realized that others suffered with the holiday blues like I’d done for many years.  A problem shared is easier to process then a problem kept in solitaire.

A situation came up that involved travel plans, one that would change the dates of visitors from out of town.  I was not pleased especially with the short notice.  I struggled with it, making my partner aware of my displeasure in the most diplomatic way that I could.

Having a few days to process, I tried to figure out why this was a problem for me.  I phoned a friend who suggested that I just suck it up and ride it out.  I responded to her that I was so tired of sucking it up and riding it out, REALLY tired of that.  I wasn’t angry with her about it, and I did call her because she has personal insight into the situation and she doesn’t sugar coat stuff.

Shortly after that call, it dawned on me what my opposition was really about.

There are so many situations in my life right now that I have absolutely zero control over (beyond typical issues).  I realized that I am trying to grasp for something I can actually control however small it is.  As a recovering person, I learned that I am powerless over most situations, which isn’t to say that I do nothing with my problems.  We do what we can, but sometimes there is no action to take.  And, worrying about it over and over only serves to enslave us to the problem.  It’s no easy feet, this acceptance for what is and taking my hands off the wheel.   I have to tell you that this actually works pretty well, when I am able to pick it up and use it.

I know I am not alone in this desire to have some form of control in *some* way.  People  do the craziest things in order to cling to some sliver of control.  This is why people develop eating disorders, addiction, compulsive gambling, self harm, and in many cases behaving like the child within that most emulates the loss of power at any particular time in the formative years.

I guess the key to receiving an insight, is what I actually do with it.  My aim is to try and find the balance.  Don’t go too far to the left or too far to the right, try and find the just right spot for it.

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I’m not exactly sure how this post will transform itself into anything logical or entertaining but I’m going to swing the bat, nonetheless.

As a recovering alcoholic, it is very important that I try to keep my life on the “up and up”.  Essentially, this means that I am to be an honest, accountable, responsible, and a relatively kind person each and every day.

You can imagine, as a human this task that sounds simple, really isn’t.  I do not accomplish these goals every day of my life.

Many times, I have to go back to a situation and “clean it up”.  For example, an altercation with another person in which I raise my voice in anger must be addressed at some point, and hopefully corrected.  It isn’t so much for the other person as it is for me on a personal front.  I choose to follow this direction because my life literally depends on it.

Not to say if I lie or say something mean I will rush to the nearest bar and gobble down all the alcohol in the place, or rob a pharmacy for all of their narcotics.  No, that’s not it at all.  The main reason for me to try and “check myself” regularly is that the disease of alcoholism is cunning, baffling, and powerful.

One of the biggest things I’ve learned from my comrades in alcoholics anonymous is that resentments are the number one offender.  Essentially, if I form a resentment against another person and do not “clean it up” most likely I will get drunk.  If I do not continue to work the steps or respect and manifest the traditions in my life on a current basis, I will get drunk.

For me to get drunk, means that I will die.

Will I die immediately, or will I live another 50 years and die?  I have no answer for that.  Most likely I would not die immediately.  I can guarantee however, that I will begin dying ever so slowly, from the inside.  Towards the end of my drinking/addiction I was already dying from the inside.  I remember thinking that putting a gun to my head would have been so much easier than the life I was living, dying on the inside.

This is just one aspect of my recovery, there are many other things that I have to address in order to not only stay sober, but “sober minded”.  I did not get sober just to quit drinking.  At the time, I thought that was all there was to it.  Quickly, I learned this would become my design for living.  And that would mean I had to change everything in my life that I’d grown accustomed to using as defense mechanisms, basically my defense mechanisms that no longer served me as a sober person.

Resentments are a huge danger, the whole issue of relationships are precarious.  I am of the belief that our relationships with other people are the hardest thing that we’ll ever experience as we roam this life.  I’ve written before on this topic, you can read that here.

One of THE hardest things I’ve done in recovery is to look at myself, taking an inventory, discovering the patterns that repeat and attempting to clean that stuff up and move beyond it.  I cannot speak for other people that are not addicts, but in therapy on some level, how it is that they can do the work that they do.  I would guess their reasons are similar to mine, and I often wonder if it feels like a life or death situation for them as it feels for me.

I’ve been guilty of taking this too responsibility thing too far, to make myself as the reason everything is wrong in your life, their life, and my own life.  This would mean I was using the methods I’ve learned in recovery the wrong way.  In fact, it’s usually referred to as an ego problem.   The meaning of ego changed for me in recovery, I learned that my ego comes out in everything I do.  Especially if the scales are all on one side of a situation.

If you have known me for any length of time, you’ll notice a ridiculous habit I have of taking the blame or fault for everything.  This is not a good habit, it serves me no purpose and it’s taken me a very long time to acknowledge it, then to address it, and finally to change the behavior.

One of the important lessons I’ve learned in sobriety is that if there is something wrong with me, it is up to me to correct it.  If I find myself engaged in arguments, disagreements, or believing that the world is “out to get me” it is up to me to try and correct this.  The common denominator in the equation is me.

If I argue and fight with every person in my neighborhood, all of my family (including my extended family), that might be a sign that perhaps something in me needs to change.  Does it mean that I’m a terrible person?  No, it doesn’t.  It simply means that I am human and humans are filled with faults.  We’ve been led to believe that as humans we are not really “allowed” to make mistakes.  And, if I can prove to you how wrong this other person is, and can you believe what they did to me I can continue living a life with blinders on.   When I am wearing my blinders, I don’t have to make any changes to myself, I don’t have to face the truth that I have something in me that needs to be corrected.

Despite my recovery, or the therapy I still fall prey to this human behavior.  I will plead my case to you, convincing you that this other person is an absolute monster and you must hate them because of what they did to me.  It almost seems that this is the human law, an acceptable practice in our society to be a victim for your entire life, blaming everyone else for your problems.

This is absurd, due to the fact that no other person can actually change us unless we give them that permission.  More than not, this is an escape route for a person rather than facing themselves and cleaning up their lives.

My goal is not to appear more mature, or that I have it all worked out.  (My ego would like for you to buy that, but my sober mind knows better.)  The force that drives me in this direction is the knowledge that if I do not continue to follow my recovery, I will die.

Telling someone that I am sorry for yelling at them, or if I lie to someone and then go back and admit I’ve lied in the attempt to “clean it up” is a small price to pay in order to stay alive and relatively happy.  Our steps are not exclusive to addicts and alcoholics, they can be used by anyone who is in need of “the directions”.  (Not to be confused with, “our way is the only way” that you find in some religious circles.)

Even after being sober for seventeen years of my life, I still struggle with these things.  I can tell you that my struggle is nothing compared to what it used to be.  I have a design for living that fits for me, and most days I am grateful.

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