It has been awhile since I've posted. It's not that I don't have anything to 'write home' about - I have an abundance to write about - it's that I've been putting other things ahead of sitting down and writing.
Since my last post, I've been staying sober and (mostly) sane, working, and going to recovery meetings and outpatient treatment. My focus right now is developing self-compassion, as well as developing connections with others in recovery, something that I've shied away from. I think the two go hand-in-hand - the better I treat myself, the less fear and mistrust I harbor, and the more I want to try healthy things. It's healthy for a human to have a few people with whom they're close. And, as I'm finding out, it's essential in recovery from addiction and mental illness. I have found that I must have someone with whom I can share the craziness in my head. Low level craziness I can tolerate and work with, but when the shit hits the fan, I get too overwhelmed to clean up the mess myself.
So the whole self-compassion thing is that I could learn to treat myself with kindness, empathy, and respect - just like I treat others. But I don't. I've been told for a really long time that I need to not be so hard on myself, and, believe it or not, I'm not as hard on myself as I used to be. But I still treat myself harshly. I haven't yet fully absorbed the concept that I can make mistakes and still be worthy and lovable. There are a lot of times when doing my best is still not good enough, and the very odd thing is that I have nobody outside of myself telling me that - it's all inner criticism. So that's some of the insanity I need to share with others whom I respect and trust.
I had an interesting experience this past weekend - our treatment program in which I'm currently enrolled began using a peer support specialist. That's what I am. Or was. Still am, I guess. Earlier this year I had wondered if I would ever let a peer support work with me, and I figured I wouldn't. Unfortunately, much of the time I think I'm smarter than everybody else in recovery and have more on the ball. So there's irony in the fact that I can get down on myself yet still think I'm better than others. I don't behave this way, fortunately, but I still think it, and it bothers me. Anyway, I was able to sit down with this peer support, and we talked openly for an hour. I was very open to his support. So I am able to accept support and friendship from someone. I think the arrogance and judgment of others I sometimes possess is a defense mechanism to keep people away. Cognitively, I do know that I'm not the sharpest tool in the shed, and that I do make mistakes. But there are parts of me that don't want to accept my humanity. It's odd that when I think of stuff, it sounds right, but when I share what I'm really thinking with another, or write it down, I can see the errors in my logic.
I have a recovery mentor whom I've had since this summer. We've never met in person, but we've talked over the phone quite a bit as well as texted. He was suggested to me by another person who lives where my mentor lives, and the first time I talked with him I felt a real connection. I feel that connection each time I talk with him. It's been a really long time since I've experienced a connection like this, so I know it's special. As we talk, I get to know more about him, and he gets to know more about me.
I've practiced my recovery for the past several years under the theory that if I can just keep feeling good enough about myself, I won't feel the desire to change the way I feel with chemicals. So far, this theory has not held up, as is evidenced by the number of relapses I've experienced in recent years. What I'm trying to express is that I was hoping to avoid tanking mentally/emotionally like I do before I relapse, because when I get that low, it's been impossible for me to ask for help. I thought that I could avoid tanking, but know I don't think I can, no matter what I do. So that is why I'm developing connections and better self-compassion - so that when I tank mentally/emotionally, I can and hopefully will ask for help before I take self-destructive actions.
The title of this piece is Nothing's Wrong for a couple of reasons: first, since I hadn't posted in a while, I wanted to let my readers know I'm ok; and second, I wanted to talk about some of the emotional stress I'm experiencing lately from the perspective of "it's ok, so long as I don't give up." The piece took a bit of a different direction, but I'll keep the title. I appreciate your reading this far, and my intention is to keep sharing my experiences on the path.
Namasté,
Ken
