Another Verbal Interlude

I have been a little self-absorbed lately.  Be kind, I can hear you, you know.  I can hear you saying, “No shit, Sherlock” and “That’s the understatement of the year.”  I know.  I know.  Even when I’m all knotted up and feeling sorry for myself, I know.  But one thing I’ve learned:  When I’m feeling defeated and vulnerable and downright crappy and someone dares to remind me how pathetic I’m acting, I end up feeling worse.  Reminds me of how my father would threaten to “really give me something to cry about.”  Never did make me stop crying; just forced me to contort myself into a tighter knot trying to keep it in.

These past few weeks have felt painfully similar to those childhood memories of knotted up tears.  Seems I’ve been crying all over the place and, everywhere I turn, someone else is handing me a wad of paper towels and suggesting I clean up the mess I’m making.  So I figure I had better find a therapist.  Therapists are good that way.  They get paid to listen to incessant whining.  It doesn’t really matter so much what they think afterwards, for a whole 45 minute hour, I will have the luxury of crying my heart out to someone who cares – for a fee, of course.

In the meantime, I am celebrating the wonderful community of sober bloggers across these pages.  Their writings continue to encourage me.  In recent days, I have been reminded that gratitude is a necessary component of being able to live and love freely; that alcoholism encompasses a  greater spectrum of dysfunction than having simply drank too much and too often; and I am the only one who can take my life and do something with the gift of days remaining.   Such reminders may seem to underscore the obvious, but I suspect my knots have kept me tied up and too long away from these simple truths.

So, here you have it.  Another verbal interlude between pictures.  Mostly, I wanted to give a shout out to my fellow bloggers whose gracious words of wisdom keep appearing in my Reader.  I thank you.  There is no way I can be certain if I’ve reached a turning point or have merely stepped off onto a side bar, but at least in this particular moment I am feeling a bit more positive and encouraged and determined to unearth whatever joy is to be found beneath each step along the rest of my journey.  That’s no small thing. Wouldn’t mind a whole long string of similar moments just like this one.

Here’s hoping.

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4 thoughts on “Another Verbal Interlude

  1. My NA sponsor finally got me to an Al-Anon meeting. Turns out I qualify for those rooms too. It’s cheaper than therapy and a great place for those of us who also come from dysfunctional families and/or are under the influence of another alcoholic’s or addict’s diseased thinking. I’m still much too new to be able to recommend it but they gave me a book and it’s already been quite useful. I spent a lot of years not feeling my feelings and it’s so good to find a place it’s OK to have feelings, even “bad” feelings. It’s also a safe, sober place where no one encourages self-medication or other maladaptive coping methods.

    Chin up, this too, will pass. But I know it’s really hard to find the hidden blessings in the middle of tears. I had several really bad crying spells 4-7 months sober. It was like all the stuff I’d drowned in the bottle or burned in the pot-pipe came out at once. A few decades of emotional deadness seems to have the potential to be really overwhelming. And there’s nothing worse than being comforted out of the feelings you need to just feel. Or condemned for them. (hugs) It’s OK to cry all you need to. Let God hold you. He won’t care if you get snot all over His shirt. I know this because I threw some awful tantrums and, like a good parent, He’s strong enough to take it and still love us.

    I ran across an interesting twist on the gratitude list a few weeks ago: write things you appreciate about the person (or people) you like the least. For me this was myself. It took some digging but it gave me the perspective to get a little glimpse of seeing myself and others with God’s eyes.

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  2. Wishing you all the best.
    I recognise the craving for relief, and habitual mechanisms that slowly destroy. I suppose I’m trying to say I understand, but I don’t have specific experience of addiction – I do have specific experience of habitual unhealthy coping strategies that I have spent a life time using and it nearly killed me.

    Sending hope and strength.

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  3. I just wanted to reach out and let you know that you have been in my prayers since we’ve “met” here on the ole inter-web. I feel your pain and I’ve walked in your shoes. I get it. You’re not alone. I think it’s a great idea to seek out therapy! As you know, I’m in the process of doing that myself. We can exchange therapy stories! 🙂 I’m sure it will be interesting to say the least.

    Smile because…..you’re wonderful. ❤

    Liked by 1 person

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