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.

In Due Time

I know that thinking about the future (or the past, for that matter) too much prevents me from being present RIGHT NOW, which, in reality, is all that really matters. In MY personal opinion, at least. Because I know the past is gone, and the "future" may never come, and who knows what will happen from one second to the next..But knowledge doesn't make me anything greater than human, I live a very human existence. Obviously.

So, sometimes I think about the future. And the past too of course, but that is another story, for a future blog. Or 13,013 future blogs, perhaps!  ヅ  God knows I could go on forever about the past, who couldn't, right? Anyways.....This blog is about the future, and my feelings about MY future. Relationship wise, where I want to be, the potential of parenting, these ideas inspire this blog, and what I am experiencing.

Remarkable, isn't it, that I recently came to the conclusion that setting goals is, YES, a good thing, a GREAT thing...But at the same time, getting into the details in goal setting isn't so good. Because that's how we develop expectations, and expectations, I am learning, are what cause disappointment. Yes, it's true. Painfully obvious, but incredibly difficult to avoid. Again, it's part of the human existence.

Lately, when I get caught up in the great bear trap of my mind, the notion of the future and how I want things to be, and my thoughts carry on just a little longer than they should and my mental picture of my future grows less fuzzy and more specific..I'm left with something new. Instead of continuing on in my daydream, if you will, something else is happening.

The internal chatter ceases, my soul's buzz halts. All that normally fills me vanishes, leaving me so full of empty that it seems there isn't even room for comfort. Instead, I'm experiencing feelings of uncertainty, loneliness, a feeling that life is passing me by and an urgency that goes unanswered. Because I simply don't have the solution yet. It's something that comes with time.

I know that I could have someone to keep me warm at night. It could be someone different every night, if so desired. And there have been times in my life when it didn't matter, as long as someone was there. Any port in the storm, as they say. But it matters now. It REALLY fucking matters. Love, connection, chemistry, attraction, passion, trust, safety, inspiration..Suddenly, ALL of these things matter to me.

I know, I know, in due time. And honestly, I'm not even looking anymore. Not only do I realize I have work to do and intend on honoring myself by doing this work, I already know where I belong. It's something I just know, like a person just knows how to breathe. My past and my future are so intertwined, with the exception of my addiction, it's all very easy to see. Moreover, I feel it in my soul. I KNOW it in my spirit.

In due time. On a lighter note, like my mom says, I always get what I want..Soooo..In due time. 

13

Thirteen years ago today, my grampa died. He had cancer, I'll never forget. I lived with him, and my gramma at the time, in the home where they raised their family, in my hometown. I didn't have a relationship with either of my parents at the time, I was a senior in high school, ready to graduate in a month. I was a full blown addict by this time. 

I will never forget what happened that morning. I will never forget the look on my gramma's face. I will never forget feeling like I let time slip away, like I didn't take the time to say my goodbyes, like I could have been there with him more. 

I will also never forget that he was my hero, he loved me and was gentle with me, his stories or the things he loved. The way his shop smelled and the ham radio he built from bits with his own hands. I will never forget his laugh, his eyes, his jokes. Or the way he was respected and admired. He was a good man. Truly.

I could go on forever but what I really want to say is this....I am so glad to be honoring his life completely sober today. I can't remember ever spending this day 100% sober. It is painful, the memories are vivid, but goddammit, he deserves it and so do I. 

The last several years this day has often come and gone without me even noticing what day it was consciously. Because I was fucked up. Never again. I already called my gramma, dad and aunt today. Because it's a day of family, he held us together. Now, we have to hold each other. Because it's important.

I will never forget.

HOME

Home is where the heart is

I want to go home

Wherever that is

XXI Days Deep

ORIGINALLY POSTED:   Thursday, April 03, 2008      

XXI Days Deep.....Twenty0ne Days Deep.....21 Days Deep.....Saturday the 29th of March I was XXI Days Deep. I’d been waiting almost 3 weeks, waiting for those 20 days and nights to pass, for the morning light of the 21st day to greet my waking, searching eyes. It meant so much to me, so much that at midnight the night before, I branded my left wrist with a simple affirmation. A band I had made that said "<3XXI<3<3DAYS<3<3DEEP<3." There was no doubt in my mind that I could make it to the 21st day. Past the 21st day.

But since they say it takes 21 days to break a habit, I had somehow mentally attached the hope that some things would magically change at the end of the 21st day. Maybe after the 21st day I would start to realize other ways to overcome creative roadblocks, perhaps I would magically start to sleep better. Perhaps when I would suffer from anxiety I would think of different solution to it first, instead of automatically yearning for the one thing, the only thing that, for so many years, almost half of my life, was the only thing I felt I could turn to. It was always there. It was always reliable. It was my best friend, my lover, my family, ME.

So many aspects of my existence had relied on it, I had given so much of my life, of myself to it. For a long time, until recently, I had not put any thought into life outside of that space, to the point that I was always there, every day, my favorite place, the one spot where I’ve always felt safe. And happy.

Happiness is a powerful thing. Everyone wants to be happy, and when we can’t find it within, we find it without. With no regard to reality, with negligence to humanity, because I know, that I, for one, maintained that space just for me. Living constantly in that space provided for me, when I couldn’t provide for myself, and I became dependent on that. It was easier to get the quick fix than to struggle toward the long term solution. And I knew that, I didn’t care. When you don’t care for yourself you can’t care for anyone else. Negligence toward humanity is irresponsible. Not loving yourself is the only sin. This is not happiness. Just immediate gratification.

20 days and nights of doubt. When anxiety would strike, I had nothing to fall back on, I had to work hard to fill the void, to be ok. I knew I was ready for this when I talked myself down the first time. If I can find a new space, fill that void and quiet my thoughts, focus on something else, something positive, I can beat this. DO SOMETHING! Get out of the house, out of my room. Into the sun. Play! For once, think about tomorrow, and the next day. Life’s worth living!

20 days and nights of building. Talk. Plan. Make real goals I intend on reaching and start working toward them NOW! Focus! There are so many things I want to do, so many things I want to accomplish. Am I not worth it? Are my dreams not worth achieving? All that we have is the future, everything in everyday is a building block, a tool that will help me get there. Work! The most valuable things in life are the things we work hardest for. Time is short, MOVE!

20 days and nights of making my own happiness. That’s right. Making my own. Happiness doesn’t just happen, and it doesn’t come from someone else. DO something, anything, but love it! Find joy in the little things, smile at the simple things.....Smile at myself. I started finding it easier to do these things, very quickly, once I accepted that it’s easy. It’s easy to love me, and it’s easy to love life. Revel in it, it’s a fleeting thing.

Those 20 days and nights were hard. I had to do it on my own, all alone. Sure, I had support, friends and loved ones that encouraged me, and let me know that they were proud and there behind me. But, no one held my hand. It was Just me, Jamie, all on my own. Sleepless nights spent wondering if it would ever feel better. But it already did. And it does, every day more, and more. There’s nothing better than being ok just being you, and loving it. Loving it through the hardest times, the anxiety, the creative roadblocks. The sleepless nights. The loneliness. Yeah, I was lonely, for the old me. But I realized my own love for me. And I am never alone. I am one. Those days are gone.

The morning of the 22nd day came, and I rolled over, sat up, and as I was kneeling over my boyfriend, looking down at him, coaxing him out of sleep with a smile, genuinely happy, loving eyes and a soft, sweet good morning voice, a slight movement near my left hand caught my eye. My personal reminder, "<3XXI<3<3DAYS<3<3DEEP<3" had fallen onto the sheets. It had not merely come undone and fallen off, it had broken. It had broken and left me. It’s over, it’s over. At least the angst I felt waiting to make it past 21 days is over.

And with that, I can happily continue to evolve, metamorphosing like a caterpillar inside her cocoon. All the pieces of my life like the segments of the caterpillar, changing, growing into something new. Something more. I like it inside my chrysalis, it’s safe and warm. But I am anxious for the day to come.....When I’ll crawl out of my little shell into the sunlight, and for the first time spread my wings, wings I’ve waited for all my life. To feel the warmth of the world on my new skin, to allow the wind to sweep me up and take me where it will. I’m ready to fly.