Last night I attended a parent meeting at school.
I love our charter school for many reasons, not the least of which is whenever there is an event/potluck, they ask that everyone bring their own plates, utensils and cups in order to reduce trash. I love this. I also wish I brought a larger dish to eat from, as the food was excellent.
The meeting was more of a discussion, facilitated by the school counselor. The topic was motivation. What motivates your child? What works well with various learning styles? How can we help set the atmosphere and expectations? Parents of children of all ages attended and it was great to be able to listen, discuss, commiserate and celebrate together.
Today, as I put off (again!) something that needs to get done it occurred to me to ask myself, "what motivates you?" The answer was obvious and immediate. For most of my life my motivators have been fear, shame and guilt. This doesn't feel good. It never has. I realize I procrastinate until the "shoulds" kick in and then I miserably drag myself to complete the task, fully expecting to be criticized or corrected. My inner voice is mean and harsh and tells me I deserve it because it's all my fault for not starting sooner, not doing my best, not spending my time differently, etc., etc..
I developed procrastination as a response to my uncomfortableness at not being perfect. That way I had an excuse. "Well, of course it's not perfect, I waited until the night before!" Procrastination also fed the motivators of fear, shame and guilt. I would wait until one (or all) of those feelings kicked in and would act only when I couldn't stand the heaping pile of misery that was accumulating.
I wonder what it would feel like to be motivated differently? Until today, I haven't recognized my own participation (via procrastination and mean self-talk) in the fear/shame/guilt cycle.
---> put off responsibilities
---> accumulate fear of consequences of being late or irresponsible, guilt at not being "good"
and starting sooner, shame at being "bad"
---> keep putting it off until I can't any longer
---> hurry to do the work at the cost of other responsibilities
---> finish the work (mostly) but feel terribly about it
---> criticize myself, berate myself for not starting sooner, not doing "my best"
---> fear/shame/guilt cycle continues
This applies to me for everything from cleaning my toilets to doing work that I like and signed up for! Now that I'm aware I am free to choose differently! I can speak kindly to myself, with encouragement.
As I've healed and gradually become more whole through counseling, therapy, medication, codependents anonymous, and lots of self-care I've experienced a little of what it's like to be motivated by love and relationship and the sheer joy of doing something I love for the sake of the pleasure it brings me!
It feels so much better.
Showing posts with label Codependent. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Codependent. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 24, 2017
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Scenarios
Last night I saw the moon rise and it was stunning. Giant, golden, gorgeous and low on the horizon against a dark blue sky. In that first moment I want to call up everyone I know who might care, "You guys! The MOON! Go look RIGHT NOW!" But I don't because who does that (well, me, but only if it's really REALLY picturesque.) After I mentally run through the list of anyone who may be in a position to stop what they're doing and gaze at the moon, I wish for a camera and a hill and no city lights and while I'm at it some really great trees to silhouette1 against it, etc., etc.. Instead, I kept driving, craning my neck for another glance whenever I could.
---
This morning I saw the moon set. It startled me even more awake than I already wasn't - giant, pearly and glowing against a soft blue sky. I took a horrible picture with my horrible phone2 from myhorrible kitchen window. Then I called for everyone in the house to come see. (The moon, not my picture.) But here, you can see the picture, since you probably missed it this morning. It's three trillion times better in person, I assure you.
My bad, this is not from the kitchen window. This is taken from the window above the piano keyboard.
---
I'm reading Bryson's Dictionary of Troublesome Words and as a result am becoming even more acutely aware that I majored in biology and not journalism. Boy do editors have a lot to remember. I enjoy writing and words as a means to an end, which is the expression of ideas. I'm not so terribly concerned about grammar and spelling as long as the person I'm communicating with (a lot of the time the person is only me) can readily understand the idea/meaning/concept. I've gotten much sloppier in my old age and as the amount of reading I'm doing has decreased. Also, my ideas are less clear and more muddy in my brain. This may be due to children stealing my brain cells or lack of practice or both.
---
Sometimes I feel like the avocado seeds I'm trying to grow. For almost four weeks they've sat in cups of water on my window sill, each one suspended by three toothpicks. I top off the water and wait expectantly. "Any day now!" I think optimistically as I inspect the almost-completely-unchanged seed. It looks a little grungier - sort of bruised and cracked in spots. Certainly not capable of pushing life out of it.
But I have hope because I have seen it happen before.
Sometimes I feel like I go through periods of enormous internal growth but nothing becomes visible externally for quite a while. I know I've changed. I FEEL changed. But I don't LOOK changed to other people. I wish I could force it. I wish I could burst forth into a glorious fruit-producing tree overnight and people would oooh and aaah and come sit in my shade and want to know my secret3. I wish that just seeing where I want to be was enough to get me there. I wish that the process wouldn't take so long or require so much, sometimes. I wish to jump ahead and enjoy the fruits without very much labor.
I wish I had a more mature perspective.
Proverbs has a verse about this: "There is profit in all hard work, but endless talk leads only to poverty."
Right. Thanks, Proverbs. I think I'd rather listen to Leviticus on this one: "You must not do any work at all! This is a permanent law for you, and it must be observed from generation to generation wherever you live." (Isn't that the most lovely Bible verse you've ever seen? [Talk about picking and choosing parts of the Bible to fit personal tastes!])
Then there's the verse I love to hate in Galatians: "So let’s not get tired of doing what is good. At just the right time we will reap a harvest of blessing if we don’t give up."
I have actually quoted this verse to a Christian counselor along with the somewhat martyr-like, self-centered exclamation, "I am SO tired of doing good. I'm just DONE! How much longer do I have to do good? Can I stop yet? I mean seriously. Where's my harvest of blessing?!" I can't remember the reply I got that day but today I remind myself that inner change is change and it is a blessing. Harvests don't have to be external to count. I have a MUCH better relationship with myself today than I did five months ago. Eventually, at just the right time, others will experience a much better relationship with me, too. I really hope it's sooner than later but for now I'm content to work on what I know I need to do and trust that the process will lead to healing and whole relationships outside of me as well.
I have hope because I have seen it happen before.
---
1I just spelled that correctly the first time for what I believe may be the first time in my entire life.
2But don't you fear! I'll be getting an iPhone 5 tomorrow!
3The secret is... there isn't one!
---
This morning I saw the moon set. It startled me even more awake than I already wasn't - giant, pearly and glowing against a soft blue sky. I took a horrible picture with my horrible phone2 from my
My bad, this is not from the kitchen window. This is taken from the window above the piano keyboard.
---
I'm reading Bryson's Dictionary of Troublesome Words and as a result am becoming even more acutely aware that I majored in biology and not journalism. Boy do editors have a lot to remember. I enjoy writing and words as a means to an end, which is the expression of ideas. I'm not so terribly concerned about grammar and spelling as long as the person I'm communicating with (a lot of the time the person is only me) can readily understand the idea/meaning/concept. I've gotten much sloppier in my old age and as the amount of reading I'm doing has decreased. Also, my ideas are less clear and more muddy in my brain. This may be due to children stealing my brain cells or lack of practice or both.
---
Sometimes I feel like the avocado seeds I'm trying to grow. For almost four weeks they've sat in cups of water on my window sill, each one suspended by three toothpicks. I top off the water and wait expectantly. "Any day now!" I think optimistically as I inspect the almost-completely-unchanged seed. It looks a little grungier - sort of bruised and cracked in spots. Certainly not capable of pushing life out of it.
But I have hope because I have seen it happen before.
Sometimes I feel like I go through periods of enormous internal growth but nothing becomes visible externally for quite a while. I know I've changed. I FEEL changed. But I don't LOOK changed to other people. I wish I could force it. I wish I could burst forth into a glorious fruit-producing tree overnight and people would oooh and aaah and come sit in my shade and want to know my secret3. I wish that just seeing where I want to be was enough to get me there. I wish that the process wouldn't take so long or require so much, sometimes. I wish to jump ahead and enjoy the fruits without very much labor.
I wish I had a more mature perspective.
Proverbs has a verse about this: "There is profit in all hard work, but endless talk leads only to poverty."
Right. Thanks, Proverbs. I think I'd rather listen to Leviticus on this one: "You must not do any work at all! This is a permanent law for you, and it must be observed from generation to generation wherever you live." (Isn't that the most lovely Bible verse you've ever seen? [Talk about picking and choosing parts of the Bible to fit personal tastes!])
Then there's the verse I love to hate in Galatians: "So let’s not get tired of doing what is good. At just the right time we will reap a harvest of blessing if we don’t give up."
I have actually quoted this verse to a Christian counselor along with the somewhat martyr-like, self-centered exclamation, "I am SO tired of doing good. I'm just DONE! How much longer do I have to do good? Can I stop yet? I mean seriously. Where's my harvest of blessing?!" I can't remember the reply I got that day but today I remind myself that inner change is change and it is a blessing. Harvests don't have to be external to count. I have a MUCH better relationship with myself today than I did five months ago. Eventually, at just the right time, others will experience a much better relationship with me, too. I really hope it's sooner than later but for now I'm content to work on what I know I need to do and trust that the process will lead to healing and whole relationships outside of me as well.
I have hope because I have seen it happen before.
---
1I just spelled that correctly the first time for what I believe may be the first time in my entire life.
2But don't you fear! I'll be getting an iPhone 5 tomorrow!
3The secret is... there isn't one!
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
I (don't) get it.
"I don't get it."
Val says this to me sometimes, in conversation. She's earnestly trying to understand something and I'm just as earnestly trying to explain but sometimes I can't explain adequately and we have to accept that she doesn't get it, for now. And that's okay. Experience and time and growth will teach and make sense out of what doesn't make sense to her now. I trust and know this but it's difficult for her to grasp. She wants to know. And if she wants to, why can't she? I know how she feels.
The last time I remember her saying this to me was as I tried to explain and why and how a heart attack happens.
"I don't get it," she said, "why can't the person know when it happens? How come some people live and some people die?" To her this seems incredibly unjust. To me, too.
I could see her working through the concepts I gave her -- thinking and reasoning... maybe trying to find a way to guarantee heart attack prevention in herself or people she loves. I do that, too, on more levels than just heart attacks.
I explained what I know about human bodies and that a heart attack can happen from a combination of things that can be controlled and sometimes a heart attack can happen because of something outside our control, even when we're doing the best we can. Even when we're doing it "right." Bodies can break. Some bodies are born broken. They aren't always fixed. This is a difficult truth for her to understand. It is for me, too.
She had a hole in her heart when she was born. I forgot to tell her that. She doesn't have it, now, and I am thankful. I was thankful before, too. It seemed nothing at all compared to Trisomy 18, which seemed briefly possible.
Life is a gift however it's handed to us.
But I still don't get it.
I feel like Val, sometimes, when I talk with someone who is more emotionally whole and healthy than I am. My sponsor and other friends in recovery, mostly. Some people go to my church and some go to other churches and some I see at my weekly 12-step group. A completely fascinating bunch of people. (I think maybe I'm easily fascinated by people.)
They answer my fumbling, awkward questions and talk and open their heart and share experiential truth that makes them practically SHINE with peace and love and grace and acceptance. It's what drew me to them in the first place. And I dutifully listen and sometimes take notes but a lot of the time, especially initially, I sat there feeling confused and slightly stupid.
"I don't get it. How come? Why? I don't get it." I felt dull and thick-headed."Can't the person just know when they're going to hurt and prevent it? Why do so many people hurt?"
I want what these strong, grounded, loving people have. I want to be like them. I want to listen and hopefully learn.
They smiled and encouraged and didn't judge and returned my calls and listened to my words and didn't try and fix me and listened reflectively, again and again and again. They continue to answer my questions and not once have made me feel stupid for asking the same thing or for being in the same situation again and again and again. (I've made myself feel stupid.)
I can see my progress, though. Today, this minute, I LIKE myself. I like me, beck, who I am right now. I've stopped judging myself constantly. (!!) I've learned so much about me and I've accepted it and I've taken different actions than I used to. Actions that sometimes lead to... serenity! Now? Well, more than there used to be.
My current struggle has to do with feeling and experiencing a personal connection to a loving Higher Power. I struggle with God. I know a lot but I haven't experienced a lot, personally. I love to listen to people with a strong, healthy connection to God. I love to hear how God works in the lives of people I know and I love to read about God working in the lives of people I don't know.
I'm starting to experience more. I'm starting to make progress and SEE progress. I'm learning to trust. I'm learning to be grateful for a power outside of me, who restores me to sanity and provides all I need.
I still don't get it, a lot of the time. And that's okay. Experience and time and growth will teach and make sense out of what doesn't make sense to me now. If the apostle Paul can learn to be content, I suppose that means it's possible for me, too. In the meantime, I have ample opportunity to practice trust.
Val says this to me sometimes, in conversation. She's earnestly trying to understand something and I'm just as earnestly trying to explain but sometimes I can't explain adequately and we have to accept that she doesn't get it, for now. And that's okay. Experience and time and growth will teach and make sense out of what doesn't make sense to her now. I trust and know this but it's difficult for her to grasp. She wants to know. And if she wants to, why can't she? I know how she feels.
The last time I remember her saying this to me was as I tried to explain and why and how a heart attack happens.
"I don't get it," she said, "why can't the person know when it happens? How come some people live and some people die?" To her this seems incredibly unjust. To me, too.
I could see her working through the concepts I gave her -- thinking and reasoning... maybe trying to find a way to guarantee heart attack prevention in herself or people she loves. I do that, too, on more levels than just heart attacks.
I explained what I know about human bodies and that a heart attack can happen from a combination of things that can be controlled and sometimes a heart attack can happen because of something outside our control, even when we're doing the best we can. Even when we're doing it "right." Bodies can break. Some bodies are born broken. They aren't always fixed. This is a difficult truth for her to understand. It is for me, too.
She had a hole in her heart when she was born. I forgot to tell her that. She doesn't have it, now, and I am thankful. I was thankful before, too. It seemed nothing at all compared to Trisomy 18, which seemed briefly possible.
Life is a gift however it's handed to us.
But I still don't get it.
I feel like Val, sometimes, when I talk with someone who is more emotionally whole and healthy than I am. My sponsor and other friends in recovery, mostly. Some people go to my church and some go to other churches and some I see at my weekly 12-step group. A completely fascinating bunch of people. (I think maybe I'm easily fascinated by people.)
They answer my fumbling, awkward questions and talk and open their heart and share experiential truth that makes them practically SHINE with peace and love and grace and acceptance. It's what drew me to them in the first place. And I dutifully listen and sometimes take notes but a lot of the time, especially initially, I sat there feeling confused and slightly stupid.
"I don't get it. How come? Why? I don't get it." I felt dull and thick-headed."Can't the person just know when they're going to hurt and prevent it? Why do so many people hurt?"
I want what these strong, grounded, loving people have. I want to be like them. I want to listen and hopefully learn.
They smiled and encouraged and didn't judge and returned my calls and listened to my words and didn't try and fix me and listened reflectively, again and again and again. They continue to answer my questions and not once have made me feel stupid for asking the same thing or for being in the same situation again and again and again. (I've made myself feel stupid.)
I can see my progress, though. Today, this minute, I LIKE myself. I like me, beck, who I am right now. I've stopped judging myself constantly. (!!) I've learned so much about me and I've accepted it and I've taken different actions than I used to. Actions that sometimes lead to... serenity! Now? Well, more than there used to be.
My current struggle has to do with feeling and experiencing a personal connection to a loving Higher Power. I struggle with God. I know a lot but I haven't experienced a lot, personally. I love to listen to people with a strong, healthy connection to God. I love to hear how God works in the lives of people I know and I love to read about God working in the lives of people I don't know.
I'm starting to experience more. I'm starting to make progress and SEE progress. I'm learning to trust. I'm learning to be grateful for a power outside of me, who restores me to sanity and provides all I need.
I still don't get it, a lot of the time. And that's okay. Experience and time and growth will teach and make sense out of what doesn't make sense to me now. If the apostle Paul can learn to be content, I suppose that means it's possible for me, too. In the meantime, I have ample opportunity to practice trust.
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
Keys to joy
88 wonderful (electronic) keys are back in the apartment and I am quite thankful for the return of my parents' keyboard. Judging by the number of spontaneous dance sessions today I think the girls are, too. All that needs to happen for optimal keyboarding is the soldering of one side of my headphones and hopefully that will happen tomorrow, with the help of my dad.
---
I lately feel as though I'm approaching life in much the same way I approached college final exams. I knew they existed and would eventually come to pass, but I tried not to think too much about it and many times spent hours and hours doing just about everything else INSTEAD prepare or study for them. I did manage to acquire a degree in biology with a fairly average GPA (the "just about everything else" often included playing volleyball at the conveniently-located beach.) I'm not sure what that says about a) the difficulty of the exams or b) my intelligence or c) both.
I arrive at the start of each day and for some reason I feel like dragging my feet. I want to put it off. I'm afraid to dive in? Or it's too threatening (!?) to face head on. Or maybe I'll fail? At... something? I'm not sure. I have a hunch it has to do with the fear that I may just maybe might possibly not do something "right." So then I feel hopeless. And do a lot of nothing or whatever is the bare minimum.
It's not really that great of a system. I'm not happy with it. I'm not happy with the resulting effects on my kids and husband. Also me. I miss joy.
Parenting and stay-at-home-momming is intimidating to me. It doesn't really come naturally, at least not all of it. I guess I haven't managed to work out a reasonable set of expectations for myself, yet. Especially expectations that don't hinge (almost entirely) on what my husband thinks I should do or be. Or expectations that result from comparing myself to whichever wonderful friend I have who excels in whatever area I'm mulling over. Or comparing myself to my mom, or his mom, and what she would do. 12-step recovery work has helped in this regard.
I've been slow to warm up to parenting and stay-at-homing. It was hard for me to leave work, where I felt like I was part of a great team that was doing measurable GOOD in the world and I got PAID for my efforts and there were attainable goals and measurable progress and clear expectations. I knew what to do to make and keep people happy! That's almost always never the case here at home. I don't even know what to do to make and keep ME happy (hint: trying to keep other people happy isn't the solution.)
Parenting is kind of muddy and messy and it's pretty much all I do. That and however much of the house I feel like maintaining, which hasn't been very much, lately.
I'd LIKE to believe that "my best is enough" but that's kind of at odds with a belief I've had for decades and have recently been trying to get rid of: "you're not done until it's perfect" (how's that one for endlessly depressing?!)
But, through all the muddy and messy parts of parenting and stay-at-home-momming, I'm pretty sure I've come quite a long way in learning more about myself and others and the experience has made me a slightly more well-rounded person. So I guess I'm thankful for that.
But I really wish I could shake this hopeless feeling. The endless, repetitive cycle of chores that are NEVER done, doing them over and over and over again, and even if something is temporarily "done" then I'm probably forgetting something else... it really wears me down.
My best is enough. My best is enough. My best is enough. My best is enough.
---
I lately feel as though I'm approaching life in much the same way I approached college final exams. I knew they existed and would eventually come to pass, but I tried not to think too much about it and many times spent hours and hours doing just about everything else INSTEAD prepare or study for them. I did manage to acquire a degree in biology with a fairly average GPA (the "just about everything else" often included playing volleyball at the conveniently-located beach.) I'm not sure what that says about a) the difficulty of the exams or b) my intelligence or c) both.
I arrive at the start of each day and for some reason I feel like dragging my feet. I want to put it off. I'm afraid to dive in? Or it's too threatening (!?) to face head on. Or maybe I'll fail? At... something? I'm not sure. I have a hunch it has to do with the fear that I may just maybe might possibly not do something "right." So then I feel hopeless. And do a lot of nothing or whatever is the bare minimum.
It's not really that great of a system. I'm not happy with it. I'm not happy with the resulting effects on my kids and husband. Also me. I miss joy.
Parenting and stay-at-home-momming is intimidating to me. It doesn't really come naturally, at least not all of it. I guess I haven't managed to work out a reasonable set of expectations for myself, yet. Especially expectations that don't hinge (almost entirely) on what my husband thinks I should do or be. Or expectations that result from comparing myself to whichever wonderful friend I have who excels in whatever area I'm mulling over. Or comparing myself to my mom, or his mom, and what she would do. 12-step recovery work has helped in this regard.
I've been slow to warm up to parenting and stay-at-homing. It was hard for me to leave work, where I felt like I was part of a great team that was doing measurable GOOD in the world and I got PAID for my efforts and there were attainable goals and measurable progress and clear expectations. I knew what to do to make and keep people happy! That's almost always never the case here at home. I don't even know what to do to make and keep ME happy (hint: trying to keep other people happy isn't the solution.)
Parenting is kind of muddy and messy and it's pretty much all I do. That and however much of the house I feel like maintaining, which hasn't been very much, lately.
I'd LIKE to believe that "my best is enough" but that's kind of at odds with a belief I've had for decades and have recently been trying to get rid of: "you're not done until it's perfect" (how's that one for endlessly depressing?!)
But, through all the muddy and messy parts of parenting and stay-at-home-momming, I'm pretty sure I've come quite a long way in learning more about myself and others and the experience has made me a slightly more well-rounded person. So I guess I'm thankful for that.
But I really wish I could shake this hopeless feeling. The endless, repetitive cycle of chores that are NEVER done, doing them over and over and over again, and even if something is temporarily "done" then I'm probably forgetting something else... it really wears me down.
My best is enough. My best is enough. My best is enough. My best is enough.
Friday, October 5, 2012
Life and death
I started writing this on Friday and have come back to it a few times since then. It's likely written more for me than to anyone else.
---
Today has been excruciatingly difficult for me, emotionally. My codependency, this "disease" as some people call it, results in me neglecting myself on every level - physical, emotional, spiritual. On difficult days this is something I'm increasingly aware of. This habit is not healthy and it is very, very, very familiar. Neglecting myself doesn't work for me or anyone, ultimately, and so I am intentionally doing what I can to take care of myself instead. It's a slow-going process.
I sometimes wish there was a way to feel awful, sucky feelings without it sucking so awfully much. I hate feeling awful, sucky feelings. I've tried not to be human and not to have human needs or feelings for a long time.
---
On page 207 of "Codependents' Guide To The Twelve Steps" by Melody Beattie, Bill Wilson (the original writer of the steps) is quoted as saying, "...but obviously you can't transmit something you haven't got."
Obviously! And it IS obvious but I forget. I sometimes think I can just parent carefully enough and then my children will end up emotionally mature, somehow. Or that they can be at peace and secure in who they are. Or that they will have good and balanced boundaries and develop healthy patterns of self-care.
Quite simply, I canNOT transmit something I haven't got! There's so much I want to transmit to my children (and to others) and the way I get it is through looking at my own issues and recovering myself. Only after I do that am I really going to be any true help to someone who struggles similarly. I've heard it likened to putting your own oxygen mask on before helping anyone else get theirs secured.
---
One of the best parts of recovery, for me, is the process of strengthening my relationship with God. It's been tough going, sometimes. I've had many misconceptions about God and I'm happy to report that God isn't the slightest bit insecure about my misconceptions of him. He just goes on being who He is and I'm slowly beginning to trust Him to be who He is.
I've read the entire Bible at least once, possibly more than once, and certain parts of it hundreds and hundreds of times. (Not so) amazingly, I'm still learning new things!
This year BSF groups are studying Genesis. The second chapter talks about the trees at the center of the garden of evil. Easy. I've known this almost all my life. The tree of life and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. Then God tells Adam and Eve not to eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil because if they do, they'll die. I never thought about that tree as being a "tree of death" but that's what it is. Tree of life and tree of death. Eat from this one and do not eat from that one. This one (and the others) are good for you but that one isn't. And God told them ahead of time, before anything happened!
So they meet the serpent and eat the fruit from the tree of death. Turns out they didn't die immediately but their choice to believe the serpent and ignore God's warning resulted in separation from God.
When I read this story as a child, a part of me always thought that God was punishing them or being excessively harsh. Kind of like he jumped up and began throwing curses at them. "You ate from that tree? Well, I'll show YOU. First of all, get out. Now you have to suffer and work harder and eventually you'll die." A lot of space is given to the consequences of Adam and Eve's choice, but he had warned them, beforehand. He knew what was good for them and what wasn't and enjoyed a relationship with them. He told them the truth about that tree of death and then through their choices they experienced the truth about that tree. He loved them; that's why he told them ahead of time what they could trust to be true.
For some reason this was a moderate breakthrough for me.
God tells me the truth, too. He asks me to trust him, too. He does not force his will on me; he invites me to walk in his will because he loves me. The things that happen to me are not punishment for me messing up somehow. Because of Jesus, God is with me all the time because he wants to be and because he loves me.
---
I am so glad that the 12-step program is a spiritual one. I'm not sure it could be as successful if it wasn't.
---
Today has been excruciatingly difficult for me, emotionally. My codependency, this "disease" as some people call it, results in me neglecting myself on every level - physical, emotional, spiritual. On difficult days this is something I'm increasingly aware of. This habit is not healthy and it is very, very, very familiar. Neglecting myself doesn't work for me or anyone, ultimately, and so I am intentionally doing what I can to take care of myself instead. It's a slow-going process.
I sometimes wish there was a way to feel awful, sucky feelings without it sucking so awfully much. I hate feeling awful, sucky feelings. I've tried not to be human and not to have human needs or feelings for a long time.
---
On page 207 of "Codependents' Guide To The Twelve Steps" by Melody Beattie, Bill Wilson (the original writer of the steps) is quoted as saying, "...but obviously you can't transmit something you haven't got."
Obviously! And it IS obvious but I forget. I sometimes think I can just parent carefully enough and then my children will end up emotionally mature, somehow. Or that they can be at peace and secure in who they are. Or that they will have good and balanced boundaries and develop healthy patterns of self-care.
Quite simply, I canNOT transmit something I haven't got! There's so much I want to transmit to my children (and to others) and the way I get it is through looking at my own issues and recovering myself. Only after I do that am I really going to be any true help to someone who struggles similarly. I've heard it likened to putting your own oxygen mask on before helping anyone else get theirs secured.
---
One of the best parts of recovery, for me, is the process of strengthening my relationship with God. It's been tough going, sometimes. I've had many misconceptions about God and I'm happy to report that God isn't the slightest bit insecure about my misconceptions of him. He just goes on being who He is and I'm slowly beginning to trust Him to be who He is.
I've read the entire Bible at least once, possibly more than once, and certain parts of it hundreds and hundreds of times. (Not so) amazingly, I'm still learning new things!
This year BSF groups are studying Genesis. The second chapter talks about the trees at the center of the garden of evil. Easy. I've known this almost all my life. The tree of life and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. Then God tells Adam and Eve not to eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil because if they do, they'll die. I never thought about that tree as being a "tree of death" but that's what it is. Tree of life and tree of death. Eat from this one and do not eat from that one. This one (and the others) are good for you but that one isn't. And God told them ahead of time, before anything happened!
So they meet the serpent and eat the fruit from the tree of death. Turns out they didn't die immediately but their choice to believe the serpent and ignore God's warning resulted in separation from God.
When I read this story as a child, a part of me always thought that God was punishing them or being excessively harsh. Kind of like he jumped up and began throwing curses at them. "You ate from that tree? Well, I'll show YOU. First of all, get out. Now you have to suffer and work harder and eventually you'll die." A lot of space is given to the consequences of Adam and Eve's choice, but he had warned them, beforehand. He knew what was good for them and what wasn't and enjoyed a relationship with them. He told them the truth about that tree of death and then through their choices they experienced the truth about that tree. He loved them; that's why he told them ahead of time what they could trust to be true.
For some reason this was a moderate breakthrough for me.
God tells me the truth, too. He asks me to trust him, too. He does not force his will on me; he invites me to walk in his will because he loves me. The things that happen to me are not punishment for me messing up somehow. Because of Jesus, God is with me all the time because he wants to be and because he loves me.
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I am so glad that the 12-step program is a spiritual one. I'm not sure it could be as successful if it wasn't.
Saturday, September 29, 2012
Patience vs. procrastination
"Patience means caring for myself and taking baby steps while I wait for something that is likely to happen. Procrastination means abandoning myself and doing nothing while I wait for something external that is unlikely to happen. Patience waits with courage, and takes the smallest baby steps, over and over. Procrastination waits in fear, paralysis, and inertia. Patience waits with belief in my effort. Procrastination waits for an effort by someone else." - Susan from the FlyLady emails
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Self care
I've heard from more than once source that September can be a tough month for people who are already prone to mental imbalance. Something about the light. Heather mentions it here.
I think I've been doing pretty well, all things considered. Some things have slipped, but I'm trying to practice radical self-care (as Anne Lamott calls it) and allow myself the grace God's already given.
I don't deal with change particularly well and boy has our schedule changed over the past few weeks. During the summer the only things we did with any regularity were swimming lessons, church and recovery meetings. Now Val goes to kindergarten every weekday morning, Elaine goes to preschool on Tuesdays and Thursday mornings, AWANA is on Sunday evenings (where I am a Sparks secretary), swimming lessons for both girls are on Tuesday afternoon, BSF for Elaine and I on Wednesday mornings, Superman and I are attending a once a month couples class on Monday nights, the other Monday nights I go to a CoDA group, Tuesday nights we go to a church-related small group in someone's home, Wednesday nights Superman goes to a mens group, Thursday nights he leads a junior high boys small group, Friday night we all go to Celebrate Recovery, Saturday night is church and on Sundays I go to a different CoDA group while Superman returns to church for the junior high service. We walk or ride bikes to and from school on Mondays and Fridays and have a preschool carpool on Thursdays. And of course I'm still responsible for staying on top of the laundry and grocery shopping and cleaning and food preparation (school lunches every day!) and showering once in a while.
Sometimes I just need to look back and realize all this change and say, "Oh yeah. Look at all I'm handling and dealing with now that I wasn't just a few weeks ago. I should probably be kinder to myself."
Anyhow, September is almost done and it's felt like a whirlwind. I've needed medication on many days, and was thankful to have it. I look forward to this all feeling normal instead of overwhelming.
It's been just over one year that I've been in Codependents Anonymous and the next time I meet with my sponsor (which should be on Sunday) we'll cover the 12th step. I'm grateful for the progress I've made in my recovery work but I still need to keep the perspective of it being a process, a journey, not something I'll arrive at one day and be done. I keep thinking that's how life works (magically "arriving" and being "done") but it just isn't. I'm getting better and better at embracing this.
I think I've been doing pretty well, all things considered. Some things have slipped, but I'm trying to practice radical self-care (as Anne Lamott calls it) and allow myself the grace God's already given.
I don't deal with change particularly well and boy has our schedule changed over the past few weeks. During the summer the only things we did with any regularity were swimming lessons, church and recovery meetings. Now Val goes to kindergarten every weekday morning, Elaine goes to preschool on Tuesdays and Thursday mornings, AWANA is on Sunday evenings (where I am a Sparks secretary), swimming lessons for both girls are on Tuesday afternoon, BSF for Elaine and I on Wednesday mornings, Superman and I are attending a once a month couples class on Monday nights, the other Monday nights I go to a CoDA group, Tuesday nights we go to a church-related small group in someone's home, Wednesday nights Superman goes to a mens group, Thursday nights he leads a junior high boys small group, Friday night we all go to Celebrate Recovery, Saturday night is church and on Sundays I go to a different CoDA group while Superman returns to church for the junior high service. We walk or ride bikes to and from school on Mondays and Fridays and have a preschool carpool on Thursdays. And of course I'm still responsible for staying on top of the laundry and grocery shopping and cleaning and food preparation (school lunches every day!) and showering once in a while.
Sometimes I just need to look back and realize all this change and say, "Oh yeah. Look at all I'm handling and dealing with now that I wasn't just a few weeks ago. I should probably be kinder to myself."
Anyhow, September is almost done and it's felt like a whirlwind. I've needed medication on many days, and was thankful to have it. I look forward to this all feeling normal instead of overwhelming.
It's been just over one year that I've been in Codependents Anonymous and the next time I meet with my sponsor (which should be on Sunday) we'll cover the 12th step. I'm grateful for the progress I've made in my recovery work but I still need to keep the perspective of it being a process, a journey, not something I'll arrive at one day and be done. I keep thinking that's how life works (magically "arriving" and being "done") but it just isn't. I'm getting better and better at embracing this.
Friday, July 6, 2012
Well, what do you expect?
Last night I almost got up out of bed two or three times so I could write down phrases and words to describe a concept that's been floating around in my head.
It's still not neat or concise or complete in my head, but here it is. It's something I've realized about me.
The more tightly I grasp at and cling to my expectations of another person, the greater chance I will miss reality and the unique gift of who they really ARE (imperfections and all), instead of who or how I wish them to be. It's easy for me to get tunnel vision and no longer see all the wonderful things about them (or even the un-wonderful, but realistic things); I no longer am present and available to listen and care and offer love and support for where they are. I only see each time they once again fail to be... something that wasn't them, at least not in that particular moment. I'm only looking for who I want them to be, who I expect them to be, who they should be (according to me)... instead of who they are.
I've spent so much time and energy informing Superman of how he should be or think or act or feel. I've thrown so many internal (and external) tantrums when he did NOT behave how I thought he should. I've lined up expectation after unrealistic expectation along with lists of reasons as to why they should be reasonable... and in so doing have become quite miserable - so long as my happiness rests in whether or not he (or anyone) meets my expectations.
I've really been too afraid and insecure to put the focus on me. I'm the only one I really have any control over. It's so humbling, but I've got to start (and stay) with me. A fellow twelve-stepper described recovery work as being "painfully exhilarating."
Yes, it certainly is. And I've become so much happier as a result!
A man of lesser quality would not have put up with me for as long as Superman has. I'm supremely grateful for him. Just the way he is.
It's still not neat or concise or complete in my head, but here it is. It's something I've realized about me.
The more tightly I grasp at and cling to my expectations of another person, the greater chance I will miss reality and the unique gift of who they really ARE (imperfections and all), instead of who or how I wish them to be. It's easy for me to get tunnel vision and no longer see all the wonderful things about them (or even the un-wonderful, but realistic things); I no longer am present and available to listen and care and offer love and support for where they are. I only see each time they once again fail to be... something that wasn't them, at least not in that particular moment. I'm only looking for who I want them to be, who I expect them to be, who they should be (according to me)... instead of who they are.
I've spent so much time and energy informing Superman of how he should be or think or act or feel. I've thrown so many internal (and external) tantrums when he did NOT behave how I thought he should. I've lined up expectation after unrealistic expectation along with lists of reasons as to why they should be reasonable... and in so doing have become quite miserable - so long as my happiness rests in whether or not he (or anyone) meets my expectations.
I've really been too afraid and insecure to put the focus on me. I'm the only one I really have any control over. It's so humbling, but I've got to start (and stay) with me. A fellow twelve-stepper described recovery work as being "painfully exhilarating."
Yes, it certainly is. And I've become so much happier as a result!
A man of lesser quality would not have put up with me for as long as Superman has. I'm supremely grateful for him. Just the way he is.
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Feelings
So when you express your feelings, particularly those less-desirable, yucky, dark feelings that you've tried to deny and ignore and repress? Turns out new feelings (usually more enjoyable ones) come to take their place!
And by "you" I entirely mean "me."
I've been (and still am) so terrified of feeling my feelings. I don't even know how to begin to process them most of the time.
But I'm learning, slowly.
Being honest with myself about my feelings is hard for me. Not judging myself and my feelings is even more difficult.
And by "you" I entirely mean "me."
I've been (and still am) so terrified of feeling my feelings. I don't even know how to begin to process them most of the time.
But I'm learning, slowly.
Being honest with myself about my feelings is hard for me. Not judging myself and my feelings is even more difficult.
Sunday, June 10, 2012
Womenopause, and count to ten.
This morning at my CoDA group my turn to read fell on this paragraph from this book:
I went to two meetings this morning (met with my sponsor between them) and each time I spoke about my anger and my feelings/experiences/thoughts around it.
I'm not sure if I've ever had more people approach me after group, thanking me for "my share" (as we call it) and wanting to either talk about how it had resonated with them and/or offer encouragement/ideas/suggestions.
One lady's feedback was particularly amusing. She suggested I might be perimenopausal because what I described sounded to her very much like it could be menopause-related. She was very polite and patted my arm and "just wanted to put it out there."
I grinned widely and sincerely thanked her for the suggestion all the while cracking the heck UP internally.
Because honestly! How hilarious is that! Do I really look that old?! I mean it's true the meetings are at 8 am and that's absolutely not my best time of day... combined with the somber note of many of the topics discussed... but still! Utterly hilarious. Especially since I'll turn 30 on Friday. Exactly what I needed to hear, as if I'm not already feeling old enough, what with all these wrinkles that have suddenly decided to stay. WRINKLES AND MENOPAUSE. MY THIRTIES ARE DOOOOOOOOOMED. =)
She totally made my day.
And then I paused to share, because my recurring issue of late has been anger. And I'm equally baffled and appalled at the sheer... I don't even know the words. I can become very, very angry sometimes at the drop of a hat. I logically know that it's WAAAAAY overreacting, but the feeling is so powerfully overwhelming. I've frequently had to remove myself from the situation and calm down so I don't keep on hurling hurtful words in a cutting tone I'll so deeply regret later. It's been a while since I've been so angry, so the fact that I've been feeling it recently is kind of both alarming and depressing.
"I've learned this about myself and my recovery: When it's time for something to get my attention, I don't have to worry. The lesson won't go away. It will continue presenting itself until I deal with it. In a natural way, insights about ourselves will reveal themselves to us." (p. 161, Codependents' Guide To The Twelve Steps)
I went to two meetings this morning (met with my sponsor between them) and each time I spoke about my anger and my feelings/experiences/thoughts around it.
I'm not sure if I've ever had more people approach me after group, thanking me for "my share" (as we call it) and wanting to either talk about how it had resonated with them and/or offer encouragement/ideas/suggestions.
One lady's feedback was particularly amusing. She suggested I might be perimenopausal because what I described sounded to her very much like it could be menopause-related. She was very polite and patted my arm and "just wanted to put it out there."
I grinned widely and sincerely thanked her for the suggestion all the while cracking the heck UP internally.
Because honestly! How hilarious is that! Do I really look that old?! I mean it's true the meetings are at 8 am and that's absolutely not my best time of day... combined with the somber note of many of the topics discussed... but still! Utterly hilarious. Especially since I'll turn 30 on Friday. Exactly what I needed to hear, as if I'm not already feeling old enough, what with all these wrinkles that have suddenly decided to stay. WRINKLES AND MENOPAUSE. MY THIRTIES ARE DOOOOOOOOOMED. =)
She totally made my day.
Sunday, May 6, 2012
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Boy am I thankful for effective medication! This morning Val woke up with a 103.1 degree fever. She was hurting all over and whimpering pitifully. I'm so blessed to have strong, healthy kids - it's rare they are sick, so when they are it just breaks my heart. I gave her some ibuprofen and she fell asleep for an hour or so. She awoke suddenly and sat up jack-in-the-box style, exclaiming, "I don't hurt ANYwhere!" It reminds me of her toddler days when nothing at all could ever slow her down except when she was sick. Then she transformed into a snuggly, low-energy, little lump... until the Tylenol took effect, and she was on the move again. I distinctly recall chasing her around, wondering how to make a 1.5 year old rest and take it easy, knowing that a 100+ degree fever was waiting for her as soon as the meds wore off.
---
I made it to the 11 am CoDA meeting instead of my usual 8 am group. CoDA reminds me of the meeting, in some ways. A group of people sitting around in a circle... comfortable with silence unless someone is led to share... taking turns reading out of various books... familiar faces smiling at you as you come in late and quickly sit down... passing around a basket for money... even starting and ending with a prayer... and then the warm greetings and hugs and standing around visiting after the meeting is over.
On my drive back home I always look to and smile at a large cross that has been positioned at the very top of a large range of hills. I drive the opposite way to group, but on the way home the cross is directly in front of me and I appreciate the gentle reminder of who my Higher Power is and that He's with me in recovery. If I could find out who owns the property and was responsible for putting up the cross I'd write them a thank you note.
My sponsor isn't a Christ follower and in many ways I think this works very well. Initially I wondered the pros/cons to choosing a sponsor that did not share some of my world views and beliefs about God. I do not regret for one minute picking the sponsor I did and I feel extremely blessed that she was available to sponsor me. I know she's the right sponsor for me.
On the Thursday mornings that I'm not in MOPS, I've begun going to a CoDA group that meets at my church. I'm looking forward to deepening my relationships with the women there; we've all got the same Higher Power!
---
I made it to the 11 am CoDA meeting instead of my usual 8 am group. CoDA reminds me of the meeting, in some ways. A group of people sitting around in a circle... comfortable with silence unless someone is led to share... taking turns reading out of various books... familiar faces smiling at you as you come in late and quickly sit down... passing around a basket for money... even starting and ending with a prayer... and then the warm greetings and hugs and standing around visiting after the meeting is over.
On my drive back home I always look to and smile at a large cross that has been positioned at the very top of a large range of hills. I drive the opposite way to group, but on the way home the cross is directly in front of me and I appreciate the gentle reminder of who my Higher Power is and that He's with me in recovery. If I could find out who owns the property and was responsible for putting up the cross I'd write them a thank you note.
My sponsor isn't a Christ follower and in many ways I think this works very well. Initially I wondered the pros/cons to choosing a sponsor that did not share some of my world views and beliefs about God. I do not regret for one minute picking the sponsor I did and I feel extremely blessed that she was available to sponsor me. I know she's the right sponsor for me.
On the Thursday mornings that I'm not in MOPS, I've begun going to a CoDA group that meets at my church. I'm looking forward to deepening my relationships with the women there; we've all got the same Higher Power!
Sunday, March 4, 2012
Date (OVER)night!
I honestly don't know why we didn't think of this sooner. Both sets of grandparents live less than 30 minutes away from us and have for over a year. And we've waited this long to enjoy a night without kids why?!? For whatever reason, it finally occurred to us that it was a possibility and man has it been lovely. Number of interrupted conversations? ZERO!!! Absolute heaven.
After dropping the kids off yesterday we went to Panera and ordered our favorite sandwiches to enjoy and share. We almost never go to Panera together. My favorite sandwich (bacon turkey bravo) is definitely better than his (asiago roast beef.)
Then we went to the mall, where I got my eyebrows waxed (should I take a hint if every single time I go they ask if I also want to wax my upper lip? I know they're just trying to make more money but still... makes me wonder if I need it.) We walked around and went in stores that seemed interesting and enjoyed free tea samples from this store and I bought some clothes, which I really needed. I later bought shoes, which I also really needed. And an O. Henry book, which I probably did not need but it was all of six dollars and fifty cents and there is no way I'm going to walk into a massive Half Price Books store and not buy anything. I mean come ON. I think I was doing quite well to stick to just one book.
After church we got some coffee and sat across from each other, absorbed in our phones (really! we did!) until someone walked by and joked, "I hope you're at least texting each other!" I told him we weren't, but had been playing Scrabble with each other earlier if that counted for anything. We continued to sit with our phones in relative silence, making occasional comments to each other while sipping our drinks. It was lovely. Then we decided we were hungry, and got almost all the way to the restaurant before Superman remembered that I! Needed! Shoes! So we turned around, drove across town and bought these (after confirming via smart phone that we'd have to spend an extra twenty-five cents if we bought them from Zappos), then the book, then drove back across town for food. Which we enjoyed.
We got back too late to go in the hot tub, but not too late to talk some more without being interrupted! Lovely concept, that.
This morning I had planned to go to my CoDA meeting but because I'm not meeting with my sponsor after group today (still plowing through my fourth step) and due to the single car issue, I opted to skip the meeting and stick with Superman. He's involved in the junior high ministry here at church and that's where I am right now - in the church's coffee shop enjoying a lovely morning.
---
Speaking of being on my computer at church... two Thursdays ago I was huddled over my laptop watching the clock, poised and ready to register Elaine for preschool at the stroke of 9 pm, which was when registration opened. I was able to register her successfully for the fall and not long after that someone walked by and said, "Hi [beck]! You look like you're hard at work!" I raised my head and looked blankly at him. I had absolutely no idea who he was. And he knew my name. It's true I was wearing a name tag, but he wasn't close enough to read it. "Hi..." I faltered, mentally zooming through all the people I know and have seen/met at church while waiting for his face to click and attach itself to a name in my head... but I came up empty. I hate this. I'm really not good at names in the first place and it usually takes a few times of regularly meeting someone for me to remember their name with any accuracy.
I could now either pretend I DID know him (but not have any idea at all why or from what) or admit I had no idea who he was and could he please tell me his name again? I chose the latter and he seemed only slightly hurt, "you know... Mike?" I did not know, unfortunately. Ugh. "Hi Mike. I'm so sorry I don't remember you; can you remind me how we know each other?" "You know, just around church." "Oh. Do you help with the kids or something?" SURELY there was SOME connection? "No, but" he gestured to his daughter, "I think our girls are in the same class." "Oh!" I nodded, "Yeah that could be it." I still have absolutely no recollection of meeting him and since then I've seen him a few times and he's forever imbedded in my brain as "Mike, the guy from church I don't know."
After dropping the kids off yesterday we went to Panera and ordered our favorite sandwiches to enjoy and share. We almost never go to Panera together. My favorite sandwich (bacon turkey bravo) is definitely better than his (asiago roast beef.)
Then we went to the mall, where I got my eyebrows waxed (should I take a hint if every single time I go they ask if I also want to wax my upper lip? I know they're just trying to make more money but still... makes me wonder if I need it.) We walked around and went in stores that seemed interesting and enjoyed free tea samples from this store and I bought some clothes, which I really needed. I later bought shoes, which I also really needed. And an O. Henry book, which I probably did not need but it was all of six dollars and fifty cents and there is no way I'm going to walk into a massive Half Price Books store and not buy anything. I mean come ON. I think I was doing quite well to stick to just one book.
After church we got some coffee and sat across from each other, absorbed in our phones (really! we did!) until someone walked by and joked, "I hope you're at least texting each other!" I told him we weren't, but had been playing Scrabble with each other earlier if that counted for anything. We continued to sit with our phones in relative silence, making occasional comments to each other while sipping our drinks. It was lovely. Then we decided we were hungry, and got almost all the way to the restaurant before Superman remembered that I! Needed! Shoes! So we turned around, drove across town and bought these (after confirming via smart phone that we'd have to spend an extra twenty-five cents if we bought them from Zappos), then the book, then drove back across town for food. Which we enjoyed.
We got back too late to go in the hot tub, but not too late to talk some more without being interrupted! Lovely concept, that.
This morning I had planned to go to my CoDA meeting but because I'm not meeting with my sponsor after group today (still plowing through my fourth step) and due to the single car issue, I opted to skip the meeting and stick with Superman. He's involved in the junior high ministry here at church and that's where I am right now - in the church's coffee shop enjoying a lovely morning.
---
Speaking of being on my computer at church... two Thursdays ago I was huddled over my laptop watching the clock, poised and ready to register Elaine for preschool at the stroke of 9 pm, which was when registration opened. I was able to register her successfully for the fall and not long after that someone walked by and said, "Hi [beck]! You look like you're hard at work!" I raised my head and looked blankly at him. I had absolutely no idea who he was. And he knew my name. It's true I was wearing a name tag, but he wasn't close enough to read it. "Hi..." I faltered, mentally zooming through all the people I know and have seen/met at church while waiting for his face to click and attach itself to a name in my head... but I came up empty. I hate this. I'm really not good at names in the first place and it usually takes a few times of regularly meeting someone for me to remember their name with any accuracy.
I could now either pretend I DID know him (but not have any idea at all why or from what) or admit I had no idea who he was and could he please tell me his name again? I chose the latter and he seemed only slightly hurt, "you know... Mike?" I did not know, unfortunately. Ugh. "Hi Mike. I'm so sorry I don't remember you; can you remind me how we know each other?" "You know, just around church." "Oh. Do you help with the kids or something?" SURELY there was SOME connection? "No, but" he gestured to his daughter, "I think our girls are in the same class." "Oh!" I nodded, "Yeah that could be it." I still have absolutely no recollection of meeting him and since then I've seen him a few times and he's forever imbedded in my brain as "Mike, the guy from church I don't know."
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Teenager
I'm feeling very teenager-ish lately, attitude-wise. Stuff just isn't fair. I want to go out and do my thing but then after I've worn myself out with all the fun stuff I want someone else to step in and pay my bills and feed me. I'm grumbling that if other people aren't acting like grown ups, why should I have to. Whine whine whine.
My sponsor assures me that being a grown up (dealing with everyone and everything in a mature, balanced, reasonable way and taking care of my own dang self) really is worthwhile and even to be preferred but my teenager self remains skeptical. Go to bed before midnight? Seriously? But that's so BO-ring. My life will be over if I become one of those old people that look forward to going to bed at nine. I won't ever succumb! I will be invincible! I will do it ALL! Just you wait and-zzzzzzzzzzzzz.
And then my daughters wake up and are hungry (like, for food! that some adult (crap, that's ME) has to prepare for them!) at six in the morning (sometimes seven, if I'm lucky) and I mutter sternly to myself that toNIGHT I will BE sensible and reasonable and I WILL remember what it feels like to wake up with not enough sleep. And then of course by the time night comes I'm feeling all teenagery and promptly toss out such stupid, silly rules. Come ON. Go to bed NOW? What FOR! I made it through today, didn't I? I'll make it through tomorrow, too! No biggie. And so I stay up reading. Because that's what I did many nights of my actual teenage years. That and chatting on AOL IM. Boy, those were the days. Dabeckstr, anyone?
I'm going to be 30 in a few months. This flip-flopping pattern just can't go on! Not only is it making me crazy(er) it's a downright lousy example to be setting for my kids. Additionally, they'll both be in school this fall (Val in kindergarten and Elaine in preschool two mornings a week) and I'm actually going to have to take them there. Which, you'll notice, involves leaving the house in something other than what I wore to bed, hopefully. And, you know, making sure the kids are dressed, brushed and fed, too.
I hope I figure out this grown up thing before I'm dead. I really do hear lots of good things about it. Seems worth a shot.
My sponsor assures me that being a grown up (dealing with everyone and everything in a mature, balanced, reasonable way and taking care of my own dang self) really is worthwhile and even to be preferred but my teenager self remains skeptical. Go to bed before midnight? Seriously? But that's so BO-ring. My life will be over if I become one of those old people that look forward to going to bed at nine. I won't ever succumb! I will be invincible! I will do it ALL! Just you wait and-zzzzzzzzzzzzz.
And then my daughters wake up and are hungry (like, for food! that some adult (crap, that's ME) has to prepare for them!) at six in the morning (sometimes seven, if I'm lucky) and I mutter sternly to myself that toNIGHT I will BE sensible and reasonable and I WILL remember what it feels like to wake up with not enough sleep. And then of course by the time night comes I'm feeling all teenagery and promptly toss out such stupid, silly rules. Come ON. Go to bed NOW? What FOR! I made it through today, didn't I? I'll make it through tomorrow, too! No biggie. And so I stay up reading. Because that's what I did many nights of my actual teenage years. That and chatting on AOL IM. Boy, those were the days. Dabeckstr, anyone?
I'm going to be 30 in a few months. This flip-flopping pattern just can't go on! Not only is it making me crazy(er) it's a downright lousy example to be setting for my kids. Additionally, they'll both be in school this fall (Val in kindergarten and Elaine in preschool two mornings a week) and I'm actually going to have to take them there. Which, you'll notice, involves leaving the house in something other than what I wore to bed, hopefully. And, you know, making sure the kids are dressed, brushed and fed, too.
I hope I figure out this grown up thing before I'm dead. I really do hear lots of good things about it. Seems worth a shot.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Oxygen
Elaine is going through this adorable phase in which she narrates her actions in the third person. It goes something like this:
"The sweetie loves her Mommy!" Elaine flings her arms wide and hugs me. She then walks to Superman and announces, "the sweetie loves her Daddy!" and hugs him, too.
Later on I heard things like, "...and then she ATTACKED the dragon [Elaine makes vicious stabbing motions] and it was dead and HOORAY and they were safe and went to the castle and went to bed."
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I observed a teddy bear getting an x-ray (presumably) in our play area, earlier. The bench to our keyboard was turned upside-down and the bear rested on the underside of the seat. Val balanced a magna-doodle on the bench stand, positioned over the bear, and drew what the x-ray camera "saw." It looked like a teddy bear. I watched to see if the poor bear had anything unusual going on with its bone structure or if there was anything depicted in its stomach or intestines but the x-ray technicians were distracted by a suddenly urgent need to administer shots and band-aids to the long-suffering bear.
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Speaking of the keyboard that isn't really ours but belongs to my parents... I wish I played it more often. If I had time and money I'd begin taking lessons again. I miss making music. (I also miss having a grand piano just down the hall from my bedroom, which is a large motivator in one's desire to make music. The piano, not the bedroom.) I need regular doses of music, which is something I've forgotten far too frequently.
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For a whopping TWO days in a row, I have walked TWO miles. Celebrate! I think the absolutely gorgeous weather had something to do with it, as well as an increasing awareness of my need to take care of myself. I hear that taking care of one's self can really be effective in combating depression and anxiety. Novel concept!
I've really been stuck on this whole idea that someone ELSE is SUPPOSED to take care of me and I have a long list of just how that is supposed to happen. If Superman would only ________. All Superman has to do is ________ and everything will be great! I wish Superman would just _______. Seriously, how hard would it be for Superman to _______?! Here's the formula: If this, that, or the other person would do this, this and this, THEN I can be okay, but until they do... I can't be okay, and therefore will remain miserable.
I vacillate (there's that word again!) between that and another highly erroneous idea that I am completely fine and I'll manage ALL on my OWN, and I do NOT need ANY help, thank you very much... because to risk asking for the help that I desperately need and then not get it? Might just be more than I could bear. So instead I "protect" myself and try to appear as though I'm doing just fine and suffer immensely all by myself instead. Denial's a pretty powerful force.
This 12-step group I keep harping about has slowly begun to open my eyes to a whole new concept. I can take care of myself. I can take care of myself?!? I can take care of myself! Lots of times taking care of myself means asking for help, and this is a learned skill (both the asking and the knowing what to ask for.) I can also ask God (the higher power of my understanding!) for help, and you know what? He answers me. He particularly seems to delight in answering me in ways I hadn't even planned for him to answer, which is precisely His point, I think. I'm part of HIS plan, not the other way around. In fact, taking care of myself (to the best of my ability and resources, which DO include other, willing people, at times) really is the best thing for everyone because until I'm taken care of how on earth can I consistently and effectively meet the needs of the people who rely and depend on me? Loving your neighbor as yourself is God's second greatest command... and this is pretty difficult to do if you don't love yourself at all and actually kind of hate yourself at times. My needs are just as valid and important as the needs of anyone else. Strange but true!
"The sweetie loves her Mommy!" Elaine flings her arms wide and hugs me. She then walks to Superman and announces, "the sweetie loves her Daddy!" and hugs him, too.
Later on I heard things like, "...and then she ATTACKED the dragon [Elaine makes vicious stabbing motions] and it was dead and HOORAY and they were safe and went to the castle and went to bed."
---
I observed a teddy bear getting an x-ray (presumably) in our play area, earlier. The bench to our keyboard was turned upside-down and the bear rested on the underside of the seat. Val balanced a magna-doodle on the bench stand, positioned over the bear, and drew what the x-ray camera "saw." It looked like a teddy bear. I watched to see if the poor bear had anything unusual going on with its bone structure or if there was anything depicted in its stomach or intestines but the x-ray technicians were distracted by a suddenly urgent need to administer shots and band-aids to the long-suffering bear.
---
Speaking of the keyboard that isn't really ours but belongs to my parents... I wish I played it more often. If I had time and money I'd begin taking lessons again. I miss making music. (I also miss having a grand piano just down the hall from my bedroom, which is a large motivator in one's desire to make music. The piano, not the bedroom.) I need regular doses of music, which is something I've forgotten far too frequently.
---
For a whopping TWO days in a row, I have walked TWO miles. Celebrate! I think the absolutely gorgeous weather had something to do with it, as well as an increasing awareness of my need to take care of myself. I hear that taking care of one's self can really be effective in combating depression and anxiety. Novel concept!
I've really been stuck on this whole idea that someone ELSE is SUPPOSED to take care of me and I have a long list of just how that is supposed to happen. If Superman would only ________. All Superman has to do is ________ and everything will be great! I wish Superman would just _______. Seriously, how hard would it be for Superman to _______?! Here's the formula: If this, that, or the other person would do this, this and this, THEN I can be okay, but until they do... I can't be okay, and therefore will remain miserable.
I vacillate (there's that word again!) between that and another highly erroneous idea that I am completely fine and I'll manage ALL on my OWN, and I do NOT need ANY help, thank you very much... because to risk asking for the help that I desperately need and then not get it? Might just be more than I could bear. So instead I "protect" myself and try to appear as though I'm doing just fine and suffer immensely all by myself instead. Denial's a pretty powerful force.
This 12-step group I keep harping about has slowly begun to open my eyes to a whole new concept. I can take care of myself. I can take care of myself?!? I can take care of myself! Lots of times taking care of myself means asking for help, and this is a learned skill (both the asking and the knowing what to ask for.) I can also ask God (the higher power of my understanding!) for help, and you know what? He answers me. He particularly seems to delight in answering me in ways I hadn't even planned for him to answer, which is precisely His point, I think. I'm part of HIS plan, not the other way around. In fact, taking care of myself (to the best of my ability and resources, which DO include other, willing people, at times) really is the best thing for everyone because until I'm taken care of how on earth can I consistently and effectively meet the needs of the people who rely and depend on me? Loving your neighbor as yourself is God's second greatest command... and this is pretty difficult to do if you don't love yourself at all and actually kind of hate yourself at times. My needs are just as valid and important as the needs of anyone else. Strange but true!
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Lent
I'd never been to a Lent service before tonight. There are ashes on my forehead now. Goodbye Twitter and Facebook. Good thing I ditched them before filling up my time with yet ANOTHER group.
After the Lent service I went to a 12-step group at church. It's women only and fairly structured in that there will be homework and you're expected to go weekly for 16 or so weeks. It'll be interesting to see how it'll fit into my life.
In addition to that I am in (and have been in) two Bible studies (also with daily homework.)
I like to learn. I also like to stuff my head full of information that I never quite get around to applying in my life. Or I'll apply it only when it's comfortable and non-threatening to do so. I really like knowing stuff. I really don't like to practice what I know (looking back at my track record thus far.) The 12-step work is good though, because it's all about applying. After a certain number of meetings you just can't not begin to see your life differently and working the program in some way is inevitable if you, as they say, keep (on) coming back.
---
Our time as a one-car family is drawing to a close. Superman is needing his own (non-bicycle) wheels more and more often due to work. We'll definitely need another vehicle by the time Val starts kindergarten. It's been nice having just one car. I'll miss it. It made life simpler and saved us lots of fuel.
---
Today didn't really go as I planned. I have a hard time with that, sometimes. I have a hard time not thinking that if I somehow had planned differently or been or done something differently, then things could have gone how I planned. That's just not always true.
After the Lent service I went to a 12-step group at church. It's women only and fairly structured in that there will be homework and you're expected to go weekly for 16 or so weeks. It'll be interesting to see how it'll fit into my life.
In addition to that I am in (and have been in) two Bible studies (also with daily homework.)
I like to learn. I also like to stuff my head full of information that I never quite get around to applying in my life. Or I'll apply it only when it's comfortable and non-threatening to do so. I really like knowing stuff. I really don't like to practice what I know (looking back at my track record thus far.) The 12-step work is good though, because it's all about applying. After a certain number of meetings you just can't not begin to see your life differently and working the program in some way is inevitable if you, as they say, keep (on) coming back.
---
Our time as a one-car family is drawing to a close. Superman is needing his own (non-bicycle) wheels more and more often due to work. We'll definitely need another vehicle by the time Val starts kindergarten. It's been nice having just one car. I'll miss it. It made life simpler and saved us lots of fuel.
---
Today didn't really go as I planned. I have a hard time with that, sometimes. I have a hard time not thinking that if I somehow had planned differently or been or done something differently, then things could have gone how I planned. That's just not always true.
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Back at CoDA
I've missed going to my CoDA group. As it was, I still had to get up and go out to cough pretty frequently - I sat near a door just for that purpose. Tea helped a little. It was so nice to see all the familiar faces and to check in with everyone. I didn't get to stay very late today - had to get back home so Superman could go on a bike ride. Normally my sponsor and I meet during the hour after group. Since it's a rather large group (today there were 30+ people) every week someone volunteers to be the timer. Each person gets four minutes to talk at a time, in order to give everyone that wants to share time to do so. The guy who volunteered to be the timer today used his phone instead of the old kitchen timer that's available. The ringtone was this gentle harp music... and wasn't loud enough to alert the person who was across the room that her time was up. So he changed the ringtone to this loud, angry-sounding duck which was hilarious. Whoever it was would be going along, talking about what was on their heart or mind and whatnot and then suddenly would be interrupted by this adamant duck (you get an alert when you have one minute left.) It never got old. Everyone smiled and many laughed and one lady quacked back before she wrapped up what she was saying.
I'm working on the fourth step, now. It's pretty enlightening. I thought I was a decently aware person, (aside from the things I've tried to remain in denial about, of course!) but the fourth step has taken the awareness to a whole new level for me. It's been more helpful to me than counseling, in many ways. The greatest part about 12-step work, for me at least, is that it can happen at my own pace. It's about progress, not perfection, and the path is not linear, per se. Some days I gain, some days I don't, but every day I learn as I watch myself make choices, and then discover the pay-off (emotional, mental, physical, relational, spiritual) that corresponds to each choice. Most days, I leave voicemails for my sponsor, which she then listens to and returns voicemails for me. It's such a gift, to have someone there whose main job is to listen and reflect back to me what they've heard and to act as my guide through the steps.
---
There's been talk in this household of me getting a bicycle. I am looking forward to being able to ride, especially with my husband (will have to drop the kids with either set of grandparents, first!) I'll probably get some sort of hybrid road bike. I have to say, though, that the thought of clipping my shoes into the pedals makes me kind of leery. But I've never done it before, so we'll see how it goes. I certainly understand the benefits, but the thought of falling before I can un-clip scares me! Maybe more so because I have really good balance, so am not used to falling, and if/when I do, I'm used to being in control.
---
There's a sentence. "I'm used to being in control." You know why I like to be in control? Fear. Just one of the many helpful things the fourth step has taught me so far. =)
---
GTOTD: The air/sky/atmosphere was remarkably clear today. Everything was sharply vibrant. Lovely, lovely day. Wish I spent more of it outside.
I'm working on the fourth step, now. It's pretty enlightening. I thought I was a decently aware person, (aside from the things I've tried to remain in denial about, of course!) but the fourth step has taken the awareness to a whole new level for me. It's been more helpful to me than counseling, in many ways. The greatest part about 12-step work, for me at least, is that it can happen at my own pace. It's about progress, not perfection, and the path is not linear, per se. Some days I gain, some days I don't, but every day I learn as I watch myself make choices, and then discover the pay-off (emotional, mental, physical, relational, spiritual) that corresponds to each choice. Most days, I leave voicemails for my sponsor, which she then listens to and returns voicemails for me. It's such a gift, to have someone there whose main job is to listen and reflect back to me what they've heard and to act as my guide through the steps.
---
There's been talk in this household of me getting a bicycle. I am looking forward to being able to ride, especially with my husband (will have to drop the kids with either set of grandparents, first!) I'll probably get some sort of hybrid road bike. I have to say, though, that the thought of clipping my shoes into the pedals makes me kind of leery. But I've never done it before, so we'll see how it goes. I certainly understand the benefits, but the thought of falling before I can un-clip scares me! Maybe more so because I have really good balance, so am not used to falling, and if/when I do, I'm used to being in control.
---
There's a sentence. "I'm used to being in control." You know why I like to be in control? Fear. Just one of the many helpful things the fourth step has taught me so far. =)
---
GTOTD: The air/sky/atmosphere was remarkably clear today. Everything was sharply vibrant. Lovely, lovely day. Wish I spent more of it outside.
Saturday, November 26, 2011
HP
One of my most-valued memories of my dad from my childhood is this:
He bought a new Bible, and then spent the next few days painstakingly going through every page of his old one in order to copy over all his notes/highlights/underlines to the new one. I've been thinking of buying a new Bible. My current one is paperback and falling apart rapidly (already packing-taped the spine.)
Also, when he's unable to recall any helpful part of a specific scripture reference (which is rare) he'll assure you that it's found "on the left page, right-hand column, near the bottom" (or similar) in his Bible. I find myself doing that, too, always mentally, if not verbally. It's comforting to know that even though I can't turn to it right this second, I know the verse's location well enough to remember its position on the page. As an adult I know that kind of knowledge doesn't happen on accident. I'm grateful both my parents have made knowing their Bibles a priority, and that I was exposed to their examples as I grew up.
12 step groups can't be worked without a higher power, and I'm thankful my parents lived relationships with God. Turns out my higher power is the same one.
He bought a new Bible, and then spent the next few days painstakingly going through every page of his old one in order to copy over all his notes/highlights/underlines to the new one. I've been thinking of buying a new Bible. My current one is paperback and falling apart rapidly (already packing-taped the spine.)
Also, when he's unable to recall any helpful part of a specific scripture reference (which is rare) he'll assure you that it's found "on the left page, right-hand column, near the bottom" (or similar) in his Bible. I find myself doing that, too, always mentally, if not verbally. It's comforting to know that even though I can't turn to it right this second, I know the verse's location well enough to remember its position on the page. As an adult I know that kind of knowledge doesn't happen on accident. I'm grateful both my parents have made knowing their Bibles a priority, and that I was exposed to their examples as I grew up.
12 step groups can't be worked without a higher power, and I'm thankful my parents lived relationships with God. Turns out my higher power is the same one.
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Shalom
People are fascinating. I could people-watch all day, any day - doesn't matter where, though I'm currently at Panera. Just fascinating.
A lot has changed since I wrote this post about being anxious. Most notably1: I have been able to eat breakfast, and on the mornings I don't, it's just because I'm not hungry.
This pleases my naturopathic doctor (whom I've seen twice now), who included "eat three meals a day" as part of my treatment plan. I'll see her again in three months. She's been enormously helpful in other areas, too, lest you think I paid hundreds of dollars only to have her tell me to eat more. I'm still anemic, but getting better. (Considering being Iron (wo)Man for Halloween.) The next area of focus is on my kidney health (trying to dissolve a stone) and then also finding out why my body is making a bunch of antibodies against my very own thyroid. I may have a gluten sensitivity, but we will try supporting my adrenals in the meantime and see how my blood looks in three months. "This [antibodies against my own body] isn't uncommon to see in people who are very hard on themselves," the naturopath offered. Well. No argument there. I'm trying to change that, though... except actually... I can't change that without my Higher Power's help.
Which brings me to perhaps the main reason I haven't felt panicked or anxious for a while - I'm going to a 12 step group! (Hi, Beck!) Co-dependents anonymous has been tremendously beneficial to me. I tried a few different groups and settled into one that happens to meet at 8 am on Sunday mornings (uuuuuuugh) but it's more than worth it because I love the people and it feels like home to me. The people that share and listen to me share week after week GET it. They KNOW. There's such relief and freedom to be me and be open and honest with my struggles when I'm surrounded by people who empathize. I have a feeling that working through the 12 steps is going to change my life for the way way WAY better. I'm ready to pick a sponsor and plan to contact her about that this week sometime. I hope she's able to do it!
---
1Also very notable (and probably most surprisingly, to me): I haven't taken any anti-anxiety medication at all, though I called my doctor and she gave me a psych referral.
A lot has changed since I wrote this post about being anxious. Most notably1: I have been able to eat breakfast, and on the mornings I don't, it's just because I'm not hungry.
This pleases my naturopathic doctor (whom I've seen twice now), who included "eat three meals a day" as part of my treatment plan. I'll see her again in three months. She's been enormously helpful in other areas, too, lest you think I paid hundreds of dollars only to have her tell me to eat more. I'm still anemic, but getting better. (Considering being Iron (wo)Man for Halloween.) The next area of focus is on my kidney health (trying to dissolve a stone) and then also finding out why my body is making a bunch of antibodies against my very own thyroid. I may have a gluten sensitivity, but we will try supporting my adrenals in the meantime and see how my blood looks in three months. "This [antibodies against my own body] isn't uncommon to see in people who are very hard on themselves," the naturopath offered. Well. No argument there. I'm trying to change that, though... except actually... I can't change that without my Higher Power's help.
Which brings me to perhaps the main reason I haven't felt panicked or anxious for a while - I'm going to a 12 step group! (Hi, Beck!) Co-dependents anonymous has been tremendously beneficial to me. I tried a few different groups and settled into one that happens to meet at 8 am on Sunday mornings (uuuuuuugh) but it's more than worth it because I love the people and it feels like home to me. The people that share and listen to me share week after week GET it. They KNOW. There's such relief and freedom to be me and be open and honest with my struggles when I'm surrounded by people who empathize. I have a feeling that working through the 12 steps is going to change my life for the way way WAY better. I'm ready to pick a sponsor and plan to contact her about that this week sometime. I hope she's able to do it!
---
1Also very notable (and probably most surprisingly, to me): I haven't taken any anti-anxiety medication at all, though I called my doctor and she gave me a psych referral.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
CoDA
Codependent recovery, Doing It Wrong:
While reading CoDA literature, "OMG! This is totally describing ______ and ______ and ______! I need to share this with them, because man, if only they could SEE this about themselves. It'd be so much better for them! This is exactly what they nee--oh crap. I'm doing it again. MY recovery. Right."
While reading CoDA literature, "OMG! This is totally describing ______ and ______ and ______! I need to share this with them, because man, if only they could SEE this about themselves. It'd be so much better for them! This is exactly what they nee--oh crap. I'm doing it again. MY recovery. Right."
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