As a Result of the Result

Soooo, some of you know that recently I've been depressed. Deeply depressed, clearly, and suffering some scary physical issues (ie narcolepsy, it would seem) as a result of emotional turmoil, being in constant reaction, trying to heal extremely deep and painful wounds and constantly processing all of this and everything else. 

As a result of the result of this (ha) I haven't been doing art, haven't had the creative possess or desire, not to mention the self confidence to even finish things started long ago let alone start anything new....Until recently. I finished some art. Which felt really good, and was a big confidence booster, especially since I was actually excited about the result.

I also have not been blogging, OBVIOUSLY, which is tragic! But writing is one of the things that was triggering me the most. Blogging. It's what brought the scary sleep problem back after 4 or 5 years of not having an episode. Basically, at risk of sounding like I'm self diagnosing here, I can only compare my experience to my understanding of narcolepsy. 

This IS a trauma response for me, and is definitely triggered by really powerful, hurtful emotions, it always has been. This use to happen every now and again, but until about a month ago I hadn't had to deal with it in about 4 years. But it happened a number of times, when it happened before. I would get upset, and just straight up pass out, no matter where I was or what was going on around me. 

When this would happen, 4 or 5 years ago, it was really intense and scary. Basically, I would experience a complete loss of control and function. Even over the ability to speak. The last thing that would happen is my eyes would shut, and up until that point, I remember being fully aware of everything, just unable to move. People would be trying to talk to me, ask if I was ok, but I wouldn't be able to answer. I would just go to sleep.

The difference with the most intense (and first) of my more recent experiences was that I noticed early on that I was starting to feel funny, presumably because I'm so much more conscious and present in my body. Because of this heightened sense of awareness, I was able to catch the symptoms in the beginning stages, stop what I was doing, which was blogging, and give myself my full attention. And I was able to take control of the situation, instead of losing control.

After a few seconds of just paying attention, I remembered when I had felt that way before, a heavy, achy sorta feeling in my body, indescribable feeling of discomfort in my stomach and tired eyed, a strange feeling of gradual loss of control..Helplessness..And I knew what was most likely coming. So I made myself get up and go do something with my dogs, to kinda distract from what I was writing, ie what was most likely causing that to happen. It was really hard to do, but it worked, I didn't pass out.

After this, when I would start to experience the symptoms, I would divert myself. I would say something to someone if I was in group or session, or make myself get up and move until it passed. I have been very much on an emotional edge lately, and haven't really been able take much before I start to react. Involuntarily. These kinda things tend to creep up on ya.

Lately, it hasn't been so intense as it was there for a little while, but I find that I still sorta shut down..When people get upset around me and raise their voices, I suddenly feel very small, scared, and it's not unusual for me to start crying. Or just get really quiet and basically distance myself in whatever way possible. Even if it's just to tune everything out.

I decided to take a break from writing for a while, as this was primarily when I would go into reaction. I have 8 or 9 unfinished blogs now. A lot comes up for me when I write, and I try to process all that arises by acknowledging it in my writing, and working with it by just allowing it to be there. But since this doesn't seem to be working, I'm not sure when I will revisit and attempt to finish the incomplete writing. All I can say is, when the time is right.

Maybe you've picked up on this with me, maybe you haven't, either way I just have to say out loud, to someone other than myself and my pups, that without creativity, I don't feel alive. It's definitely (obviously) been a struggle through my various attempts at sobriety, and many many many times in the past, creativity, or the lack thereof, has been a huge reason I started using again after being sober for x amount of time.

This particular attempt at recovery, however, has been different in that I have not suffered the level of severity I am accustomed to regarding lack of creativity while I'm sober. I know it's a big part of what's kept me going. Creativity and my dogs....They are the 2 main things. So my recent lack of inspiration was pretty intense and difficult to deal with. But here we are. And almost a year deep, none the less.

I'm baaaaaaaaaack.....Or, at least, trying very genuinely to be.

HOME

Home is where the heart is

I want to go home

Wherever that is

One Wish

if i could have just 1 wish right now....i would wish for a snuggle
i want to be held now, right now. i need to be loved in this very moment,
i hate the early mornings of the day following a bad day...

could i snuggle in as close as possible, bury my self in your neck

wiggling and feeling around til i find the perfect spot

where the shape of your shoulder fits the curves of my face..

where i can't see anything, where nothing can see me,

but i can still breathe through my nose.....

can i wrap my feet around your legs, flattening myself to your skin 

til a part of you is touching every single part of me

wrap some of your hair round my fingers a few times..

rub it's softness between the pads of my first and middle finger

i'd put my other hand on your chest so i could feel you breathe..

and your heartbeat..

would i finally find the safety and comfort i need, i so desperately want

in this space..this love space

could i finally just feel loved and let go of all my judgment

and experience what i just KNOW exists..i believe it's out there 

something bigger than life, and i want it..to truly love and be loved 

to truly believe and feel it

The Right Thing

My close girlfriend hit me up on instant messenger last night, we chat often since she moved back home to the east coast from San Diego, some time ago. I cherish these moments I'm privileged to have with her, even if only online and lacking the majority of the nonverbal interpersonal communication that is often necessary for deep understanding between 2 individuals. As kindred spirits, our connection is always present, despite the physical distance between and the passage of time, spiritually we are always within reach of one another.

I miss and love her dearly, she is a GOOD person, she is REAL, she is growing and evolving in ways one can only hope to witness throughout the lives of ALL the people they love, which, ironically, are commonly the same ways we often resist, refuse to acknowledge, and just plain deny ourselves personal growth in our own lives. It's The Hard Stuff, the parts of us that we don't want to admit, don't have the confidence to take a look at, the things which trigger our shame, insecurity, anger, sadness and all the other emotions which are a natural part of our soulful existence as human beings, but are regarded, unfortunately, as negative and unattractive.

Every time I talk to my friend, she's working hard to achieve a deeper understanding, or at least a deeper acceptance of herself and others, she's creating space for growth..And LOVE..I'm so proud of her. She's amazing, beautiful and brave, an inspiration...I'm blessed to have this space with her, it's always a learning experience in some way. It's so easy to love my Bean, and she deserves it.

We talk about a variety of topics, anything that comes up. There is no need to filter what is communicated, there is no judgment. How nice to have a friend to tell anything to, that can be truly and infinitely trusted, who's feedback is immeasurably valuable but who offers advice without expectation, honoring and supporting your right to make your own decisions based on whatever criteria you've determined pertinent to the outcome of the situation in question. Someone who may not always understand your needs, but at least respects them, and encourages you to do so as well.

As amazing as this is, I sometimes don't do a good job of honoring the woman she is in my life..And I end up feeling guilty, irritable and exhausted, not to mention inadequate. There are 2 contributing factors in this and both have the same central theme, which is that I rarely take space for myself when I need it, They are:

1) I am almost always there when she calls on me, even when I feel it's not in my best interest to be emotionally..I have a really difficult time setting boundaries, I often experience a feeling of intense guilt when I'm trying to determine appropriate boundaries, plus I become consumed with my inability to communicate that, sometimes, I am not in the space to take anything else on..OR that I simply don't have the energy necessary to be there for her if she (or anyone, this is a common issue for me) needs someone.

2) I also struggle with resistance to asking someone to just hear me every now and then, especially when I need it to just be about ME. There are times when I feel like I just need to talk, vent, empty myself of what's creating pressure, and I don't want to take in anything to replace what I'm releasing. Sometimes I don't want to be related to, I want my experience to be acknowledged as it's own, honored for what it is individually, in relation to ME, despite the similar experiences of anyone else. I really want to be heard, and sometimes I feel as though I'm not being listened to and truly acknowledged when I try to express myself as a way of asking to be supported, only to be answered with a story of how the person I am speaking with has been through the same thing. It's nice to be related to, I certainly don't want to seem ungrateful or selfish, but even if EVERYONE in the world has been through what I have been through, it doesn't make my personal experience any less significant or easy to deal with for me. I'm working on this, but I still rarely ask for help or support when I need it, from anyone, even her, even though I suspect I am taking away from her experience in our relationship by holding back.

Sooooo.....A few days ago I got to talk to her for the first time in probably a week, I was really glad to hear from her, we usually talk more than this, I think. Anyways, I was feeling lonely for her attention, to be perfectly honest. But on this day, as has been the case fairly often lately, I was not feeling well.

Depressed, bouts of crying out of nowhere, that feeling that life is passing me by, somehow...Loneliness, shame, longing, guilt, even regret. Yes...There IT is finally, I have decided there IS something, at least 1 thing, I have done in my life that I regret. It makes me nauseous to admit that, even now. 

Uncertainty, worthlessness, undeserving...I could go on with the list of the emotions I was experiencing, AM experiencing, but I don't know how self serving that would be, and I'm sure I've gotten my point across. I wasn't, haven't been, and still am not feeling good about myself, and of course, it is all in relation to the central theme and need in my life...Love. To love and be loved, to be in relationship mindfully and fruitfully. Fuuuuuuu! And now, the tears again. Ugghhhhhhhhhh.......

Ok, so.....One thing we ALWAYS talk about is where she's at dating and relationship wise. It's usually the first thing we talk about, and as usual, last night's conversation was started with an update about her guy and their relationship. Which I normally welcome and am eager to hear....But last night, I was not in the mood to talk to her about anything relationship related.

Because I was hurting so badly, and this particular wound I am working so hard to heal is so very deep, it was really hard for me to be open to her. It's like a wound to my spirit that, over time, couldn't heal and festered into a raging infection of my soul. And it hurts. It even encompasses my physical body, and it clouds my thoughts, sometimes even persuades my feelings. But I'm always trying to be a good friend, trying to have patience for her and myself..She deserves for me to be the same friend I always am, she deserves stability and a reliable confidante, even if I don't feel tolerant emotionally.

So I conversed with her about how things are going, how she is feeling, read about how happy she is and what her experience of being in love is like. And I still can't put words to how happy I am for her, this is such good news! I responded to her questions, gave her my honest opinion when asked, I was a good friend, as I feel I always am..All the while feeling as though I'm dying inside, still crying off and on. Instant messenger texting doesn't convey emotion, it's a very godless thing...So she never even knew.

In my recovery, and as I'm learning how to care for myself, I've come to realize that not only is it a healthy practice for me to set boundaries for MYSELF, inevitably all parties involved receive something from it. So at the same time I was being a "good" friend, I was failing her..And myself. It makes me feel so good to be helpful, to always be available, to be a "good" friend..And at the same time, in situations like this, I end up crushing myself. I can see both things, I can relate to both things..Maybe someday I'll be able to choose just one thing. The RIGHT thing.

Anger

ORIGINALLY POSTED:  Wednesday, January 20, 2010
  

It's 2:25 AM Wednesday, January 20th, 2010....And here I am. The solace of night is comforting, but not as much as usual. Even though late nights/early mornings are becoming less "usual" for me in my recovery, I do have to say. Regardless, I still enjoy this space, on a very deep and intimate level, for what it's worth. Which is still a lot, to me.

Anyways, it's been a while since I have been here, I almost feel delinquent in my participation, and unworthy of posting, since I feel I should be here all the time for the sake of validity or something, I don't know, most likely that's my insecurity echoing around inside my head. I almost always feel as though I am not good enough, for ANYTHING, for one reason or another. Or that I don't do enough to deserve to be heard, or cared for. But that isn't even the real reason I am awake tonight, alone on SR Community.

It's really no surprise to me that I have already spent over 10 minutes typing and thinking on this post, dancing around the subject that brings me back around...ANGER. It's soooo hard to talk about, and even really understand for me. Maybe because more often than actually feeling that emotion, I feel something else. Anything else, really. Where the fuck is my rage, my very real, painful RAGE and ANGER? Why am I so resistant to conjure it, to feel it, to acknowledge, embrace and honor it? I am not so sure that I ever get really ANGRY. Even when I think I should.

More often, like this past evening in Group, I can't process, can't deal with anger. I watched my sisters doing healthy anger practices, I was witness to the beauty and raw expression of women I love and respect stepping through a door, making a conscious decision for change, for something greater. Embracing the strength and courage within. Screaming, crying, struggling, trying, denying only to find the strength to be forthcoming. Embracing the right to change their minds, trusting the process and allowing the women around them to hold space. To give them the energy, the love, the acceptance to commit to a scary, uncertain new reality. That it's ok. It's really just fucking ok just to be with whatever is there. Anything that's there, whether they had deemed it inappropriate or unjust, judgmental or selfish, or whatever else their psyche and all the world's weight may have caused them to labeled their anger. Because no matter what, none of it's bullshit, it's all very real. It's there for a reason. It deserves to be recognized.

And as much as this isn't the point at all, it's everything to me right now. Because in all this, I could feel no anger. I couldn't feel the fire. As the women who are my peers, who are my family, whom I love very much went through this process, one by one, passionately and whole heartedly, participated in this exercise, inspiring and encouraging one another to take the leap of faith by holding space, I held space as well. I wanted to go home so badly. As my sisters, one by one, let out their anger, their screams got more and more distant in my ears. And my heart beat faster and faster. And all I could do is cry silently to myself, the only sound coming from me my sniffles and my tears falling from my down turned face only to land on the cuff of my jeans.

And when it was my turn, when I was the only person left, I couldn't do it. I couldn't find anger. I couldn't even move. When my name was called, I found myself several feet from where I was originally sitting, I'd even left my bag behind, I'd unconsciously migrated toward the door. I probably could have reached the knob without even fully turning around. I couldn't commit, I could barely breathe, let alone speak. And when I did finally respond to being called, my voice sounded weak to my own ears, and I could feel every nerve in my body. And all I could say was that I wasn't going to do it. I would talk to my therapist in session about this, but I had no anger. And I didn't. Nor could I tap into or remember any anger. I couldn't even remember anything that makes or even has made me mad. NOTHING.

First and foremost, I want to acknowledge my main emotion in the heart of the moment. I was scared. Fucking terrified. When people get angry I don't want to be around. I don't feel safe. I feel attacked just to witness it. I'm fucking weak. I'm a big fucking baby. I hang my head, my shoulders slump, my spine grows weak. Grown ups aren't suppose to feel like that, respond like that, aren't suppose to run away. At the same time, I want to acknowledge that the entire time I witnessed what happened, I wanted to run away. I wanted to just get up and leave and it took every fucking ounce of strength to stay. Not because I didn't want to support my sisters, but simply out of terror. And it's not their fault. Of course. I really don't want to seem so fragile that anyone is reluctant to express anything they are going through around me. I want nothing more than to be a pillar for the women I care for to lean on. I want to say "It's ok! I'm STRONG! I can take it! Talk to me! I LOVE YOU!" Because I do love all of them, each and every one of them. And I want to be big, I want to be strong. Pleeeaaaaase!

Also, I felt sad. Maybe even more than I felt scared, I really don't know at this point. Sad to hear my amazing sisters say "I'm angry because I'm not beautiful." Sad to hear my friends say "Why doesn't anybody LOVE ME?" Because each of them, every one of them is fucking perfect. Even now, at 3:15 AM, almost 7 hours after group has ended, thinking about this has me in tears. I don't feel angry at all, not even for whatever has caused them, or even myself, to feel this way about themselves. I just feel heavy hearted, broken hearted, soooo fucking sad that anyone has to feel that way. It isn't right. It's not okay at all. I'm also disappointed in myself. Shouldn't I feel angry? For all that hurts, for anyone that hurts if I can't feel it for myself?

I don't know. I don't know anything. I just don't know. I just ran away, as soon as group was over. I just left I didn't say a word, I couldn't wait to get out the door and go home to the safety of my room, my own very controlled world. Where I can choose what to deal with. And in this very moment, I am choosing to acknowledge my lack of understanding, my disappointment in myself...And in my mind, I keep telling myself that as an adult in the United States of America, an adult who isn't court ordered to be in a recovery program, an adult who's at SR by choice, I have the right to exercise my free will. I have the RIGHT to say no! I don't WANT TO, and I won't!

But is that really serving me?

No....No it isn't, and I'm failing myself. I'm really trying to do the right thing, I'm really trying to show up for myself, for my recovery...But when will I really be able to do that 100%? And until that moment, am I wasting my time? Everyone else's time? I hate failing. I HATE FAILING! It displaces me, failure. It is sad, it hurts, it makes me feel sick. And I feel as though tonight I have failed.

Broken Heart Shaped World, The Emotional Bankruptcy of a Girl

ORIGINALLY POSTED:  Monday, March 19, 2007 

No, I don't feel sorry for myself. Not at all. I am not angry, regretful, bitter, resentful...No, none of these. I do not wish harm or unhappiness to you, as I think of you, I focus no negativity, I feel no hate, I have no ill will, I am not spiteful...Ahhhhh, I could spend days listing all the things I am not, maybe to convince you, perhaps some would say to reassure myself, whatever the perception may be....But, regardless of the intent, I don't think it's working. It's not working. So, a new approach. Here is what I AM.

I am adrift, at sea and alone. I am searching for solace, in my most reliable source I find none. I long to retreat, hide in myself, but my most cherished comfort is gone. I can't, I can't, I can't...Live in a broken heart shaped world, all on my own.....For the first time in my life, I can't stand to be just me, all by myself...just Jamie. Without you, I am alone. More than alone.

Something happened with you, something different. You inspired me so, you impressed me more than I ever imagined anyone could. More than anything, you gave to me. Encouragement, you were my muse...You planted seeds...Fractions of ideas, you triggered my interest, then you let me run with them, just to watch them grow. You watched me grow. You made me feel as though.....You were proud.....Like I was proud.

But most of all, you gave me understanding. Something altogether new to me. For the first time, I felt as though I really wasn't meant to walk this earth alone. The things about me that make me different...You showed me we had these things in common. The things that made me distance myself from others, you embraced. So openly, so eagerly....So it was easy for me, so easy...To give you me. Just me, completely, with no return receipt. I gave you my heart shaped world.

So often I felt like you wanted to be there, live there with me, I have thought that this happened for a good reason, everything happens for a reason...I believed it was my time. You found me...You looked at me with adoring eyes, said all the endearing things...Things I only dreamed of. And always wondered if they were real. You stole my heart. Even after I told you about me, all about me. Please be careful, please I asked...Maybe still, even with all of that, maybe you just didn't realize the depth. How deeply my soul goes, how real I was. In a way, I tried to, well, warn you, I suppose. Maybe you just didn't see.

Of course....Yes, we both made mistakes. I gave so much, and expected the same in return. That is one way I went wrong. I realize now that I can't expect what I give to be what I receive. What I gave was a gift...I should have never expected the same in return. Of course you will only give to me what you want to give, I learned a painful yet valuable lesson. I can't expect anyone to be like me, we are all our own.

Yes, you said, take it slow. Slow. I heard you, every word you said, EVERY word. I guess I didn't realize the value of some things in relation to others. You said take it slow....But...You said so many other things, all the things I wanted, needed to hear. You swam in the deep blue sea of my emotions, you encouraged my reciprocal nature, you welcomed more, asked for more....And I gave it to you. I meant it, too, with all my heart, all my dedication, all my soul.

Actions and words in life are transactions, there are so many forms of currency. I must be careful to never "pay" more for anything than it is "worth", not in a literal "value" sense, but in a "what can I EXPECT in return" sense, or of course, I risk feeling taken advantage of. And that would be my fault alone. I must also be aware of the fact that every action and word is extended in the understanding of the giver....Not the perception I bestow upon it. So much can be lost in translation.

I gave myself to you so completely, and now.......Now that I am alone, I feel incomplete. Uncomfortable, misunderstood, uncertain, empty, alone.....Alone, not in my previous comfort zone of alone, but alone, as though I don't know where even I have gone. But I do. I am with you. I gave that part of me to you, and I don't think I will ever come back, it's where I feel I belong. This is my emotional bankruptcy.

I gave to you so much. Perhaps more than I had to give, certainly more than you were ready for. You meant so much to me, it was easy. I wanted to give you my world, you made it a heart shaped world, for the first time in my life. And I wanted to give it to you, share it, grow together, you and me, together.....And now, I can't take it back. I can't take me back. And now, I have nothing. Bankrupt.

The worst part...It's like repossession. I put so much into something, only to lose it. I lost you, us... me. Now....Now I have lost everything....And I am frightened by the idea that I will never get it back, I will never recover what I invested...But you took back what I was investing in, unfortunately, I can't take back what I invested.

You will never understand, or maybe you will, maybe you do...Perhaps you feel the same way, this is wrong...So wrong. How in the world could it be right, two people with so much in common, and such a connection...On such a personal level, so intimately, going separate ways. Never the less, here I am and there you are.

I realize I take everything so seriously, too seriously most people say. To me, it is serious. All the things I have experienced in life....Life is serious to me. We have all been through "Life" and we all become who we are as a result of our experiences. You always said the past predicts the future. I think....The past creates the present, and people create the future. I said, Things don't change....People change, and then change things. I know that I am who I am today because of the past. I will be who I become....Because of today...And yesterday, all the days.

Ultimately, hopefully, I will probably recover....But I will never be the same. And I will always, always, always feel an emptiness, where I once was, and where you were, too. I wonder if your energy will ever leave me, if you will leave my dreams, if all the strange coincidences that occur daily, time after time, will stop eventually. My soul is tormented, I wonder how to move on....When you are always here. Lonely. I miss you.