The Secrecy Is Killing Me!

I have had difficulty completing any post lately. I have started several, but I haven't been able to finish them. I think what I'm stuck on is an idea that came to me some months ago, and that is the idea of full disclosure. If you are reading about my experience traveling this life journey, then perhaps you might oughta know where I'm coming from. You know I get all of my good ideas from Source, but maybe you want to know what channels Source uses. Maybe not. But here we go:

If you've been following awhile, you might recall that when I got sober in 2013, I realized that I would need to become authentic in order to stay in recovery. I realized that I would have to let people get to know the real me. I also realized that it would be a great undertaking, as I didn't even know the real me. When you get right down to it, I still don't. This blog was started as part of that 'authentication' process - I knew (and still know) that part of becoming authentic is becoming open. I wanted, and still want, to become an open book. I want to walk through life unafraid, with my head held high. Posting in this blog has done a great deal of good to that end.

But what I've noticed in myself is that I've become concerned with what you might think about what I write, and this concern has caused me to filter my writing in order to not piss you off or make you not like me. And that is exactly the way I used to live, and it is unacceptable, and it is harmful to me. I used to base my actions, my words, and my opinions upon what I thought the person who was receiving my actions and words would approve of. In other words, I guessed at what you wanted to see/hear from me. That's not real. That's not authentic. That practice obliterates self-esteem and degrades any sense of self-worth that I might have. There is a phrase I heard some years ago - I don't know who wrote it or said it first, but it rings true to me: "I'd rather you hate me for who I am than love me for who I am not."

So when I write, I would like to not be concerned with what others may think or how they react, so long as what I have to write is not harmful to anyone (including me!), true, and possibly of use to someone. I do not want to hide who I am today - that practice is a major contributor to depression, something from which I am trying to recover. In this post, I am going to share a little bit of background so I know you know where I'm coming from, and it is my intention that I hold to higher principles than whether or not I think you still like me. If you do, you do, if you don't, you don't!

The first thing is that I no longer consider myself a member of a 12-step (_______ Anonymous) organization. I attended a 12-step meeting yesterday, and it was the first 12-step meeting that I've attended in over a year. 12-step organizations usually guide themselves by using the 12 Traditions. Tradition 11 suggests that I do not disclose my membership in ________ Anonymous at the public level, and this blog is at the public level, and so far I haven't, at least not in any one organization. But you do the math. And please note my disclaimer on the homepage of my blog - that what is written in this blog does not necessarily represent the views of any organization to which I currently belong to or used to belong to. I still practice the 12 steps, and I still fellowship with recovering people. It's just that I found something that is a better fit for me in...

Recovery Dharma. And Recovery Dharma doesn't seem to care if I divulge my membership. Recovery Dharma is based on the 4 Noble Truths and the Eightfold Path of Buddhism. I am not a Buddhist, but I don't have to be to be in Recovery Dharma. What does Recovery Dharma give me that _________ Anonymous did not? At meetings, we are free to talk about those things that cause us to suffer. Alcohol is one of those things, but I have not suffered from the effects of alcohol in a little over 3 months. But I have a lot of other stuff going on - over-eating at times, often a desire to escape (aversion), and other 'process addictions' that cause me suffering. It became difficult in _______ Anonymous to be open about these things as well as my mental health in a way that was helpful to me. I hold no grudge against anyone who is living a healthy life through a 12-step program or fellowship - my attitude is find what works and stick with it until it doesn't work. I know that some of my readers are long-time members of anonymous organizations, and I want to be truthful with you. And the reason that I went to that 12-step meeting yesterday was because the sober living house in which I'm currently living has a rule about 5 recovery meetings a week for the first 30 days of living here, and I am unable to go to 5 Recovery Dharma meetings per week. The meeting was good - it was on humility and the 7th step, and I met a new friend. 

Whew. I feel better already.

Next: I have studied and I follow the teaching of the person called Jesus the Christ, but I am not a Christian. I'm not an anything. But I'm not a Christian because the term has become meaningless, especially in the past few years. Additionally, there are so many sects of Christianity, that if you're a good Christian in one sect, another sect is going to send you straight to hell. If I do go to church, it is in the New Thought (or Original Christianity) vein. I still use the Holy Bible for inspiration, especially the Hebrew Bible (Old Testament), such as the Psalms and Proverbs and some of the writings about the prophets. Does not being a Christian make me an atheist? No. Maybe. I don't believe one man is God, but I do believe God is in all humans (and everything else). God is Source, Love, that unseen, unknown force that keeps the Universe going, despite humans' best efforts to destroy it, or at least this little patch of it. I aspire to believe that you and I are connected, which is why nowadays I endeavor to do no harm.

I am apolitical. Many years ago, I stopped watching the news - it was the same old script with different names each night. Letting go of that activity improved my mental health immensely. A few years ago, I stopped paying any attention to politics, and, you know what? My life got better again! Now I don't have to let the opinions of others bother me, because I'm not on either side. Unlike Wisconsin, in the State of Arizona I am not allowed to vote unless I petition to get my rights restored (that whole 'convicted felon' thing). It doesn't seem worth the bother. My opinion is that the left wing and the right wing belong to the same bird, and it's not an eagle, it's a vulture. I don't need unnecessary drama in my life, and politics is unnecessary to my purpose, which is to serve others and ease suffering.

That's the 4 big things that I wanted you to know about me in this moment. I still have this thing where I feel wrong or ashamed for doing/believing in what I do and what I believe in, even though it doesn't harm anyone and isn't illegal. Crazy, huh? And what that 'thing' is is that I think I need anyone's approval to do anything, and it would be a terrible thing to not get your approval. I'm working on that. Not getting your approval, but for standing up for what I believe and who I am in front of anybody and everybody. I think that is very liberating.

So there you have it. I feel like a great weight has been lifted from me - I no longer bear the responsibility of your reactions to me and what I write. I hope, if you are getting something from the things I share, that you continue to read what I write about my journey. If you don't, that's fine, too. You do you, and I'll do me.

Namasté,

Ken

Grieving

***Trigger Warning: This post is about my responses to people dying. If death is a trigger for you, please skip this post; however, if it's just an uncomfortable topic for you, read on: 

Today I learned that the caretaker of the place where a lot of recovery meetings are held completed suicide. This past Monday, I learned that a friend and co-worker, who was in recovery, overdosed on opiates and passed away. About a month ago, another co-worker passed away due to Covid. Each of these deaths affects me differently. It is important for me, and I think for us, to accept that death is a part of life, and, like every part of life, it is good to have a healthy, non-harmful response.

I don't judge people for dying, nor for their cause of death. You see, there could be some judgment around the deaths of the 3 individuals mentioned above. My co-worker who died from Covid was maybe my age or better. I remember the conversation we had in which he shared that he thought the whole pandemic thing was a hoax. At that time he was not vaccinated, and I don't know if he ever did get vaccinated. That isn't my business - I'm not pro-sticking myself with vaccines either, but I have gotten flu and virus shots when given enough incentive. My co-worker who died from an opiate overdose - this was very sad to me, as he was a young guy and I considered him my friend. One could, and a lot of people do, judge his death as him getting what he deserved for using illicit drugs in the first place. Maybe. But I knew this person was trying to stay clean and sober. I also know that he was somebody's son, somebody's sibling, and somebody's boyfriend, and somebody's friend, somebody's employee. I knew that he was a good worker and a nice guy. I did not know him when he was in the depths of his addiction. The third person, who I believe completed suicide either Thursday or yesterday, was the caretaker of a building that housed recovery meetings. I knew him, but not very well. I knew he lived with a mental health disorder, but I did not know his diagnosis. Some people judge those who live with mental health disorders as weak-minded. I was judgmental toward people with mental health disorders for a long time until I fully accepted that I am living with a mental health disorder myself, which goes to show that just because one judges someone else on their mental health does not mean the one judging is mentally healthy. Just sayin...

I went to my first funeral, that of my paternal grandfather, when I was 2 years old. I knew at a very early age that people and animals die. I think it's healthy to acknowledge this aspect of life, so that one isn't too incredibly overwhelmed when somebody they know passes. However, I began thinking about my own death around 8 years old, and that's not normal nor healthy. I remember one of my siblings telling me in the backseat of our family car, when I was lying in such a way that my nose was buried in the crack between the seats, that I could get carbon monoxide poisoning from that. I thought that sounded like a good idea. (This was back when cars were huge, and we probably had room for three more kids in the back seat). I think of death every day, probably, but not as much as I do when I'm symptomatic. I ride my bike every day, and I understand that just doing this increases the chances that I'll die today; however, I take precautions - I ride safely, wear a safety vest, and am well-lighted (not well lit, which wouldn't be good). 

So yes, death does enter my mind often, probably more than it does the average person, whoever that is. Each of the 3 aforementioned deaths reminded me how fortunate I am - that I haven't gotten Covid (yet), and that I am sober and fairly sane today. I do not believe that God or the Universe has our appointment with the grim reaper already set, although that might be a possibility. I choose not to think that way because if I did, I would begin living in a very self-destructive and dangerous way. I've noticed that as I get older, I respect my health and my life much more (when I'm sane and sober). Also, I live in a field where people are more likely to die unexpectedly (mental health and addiction). I've experienced much more death than the average person (whoever that is) has experienced. I cannot count on my fingers and toes the number of people who have died from disorders that I share. On most days, that makes me grateful to be alive; on some days, I want to give up. 

The problem with death is that everybody reacts so differently to it. When we die, we affect the lives of our survivors. The recovery center caretaker's death is affecting hundreds of people, as is the death of my co-worker living with addiction. Some will use these deaths as an excuse to give up. Others will use these deaths as a reminder about how fortunate we are to still be living. Some will feel guilty - did I do enough for this person? Did I do anything wrong? When I came back from my relapse, I learned that a friend of mine had relapsed while I was 'out there.' Fortunately, they survived. I immediately thought, "I would kill myself if they had died," because I wasn't available to them to help prevent their relapse. This is, of course, a cognitive distortion; I am not responsible for anyone's behavior but my own; I did not pull the trigger. But the guilt feeling was there. I think that's learned, but I sure couldn't prove it.

We don't know what happens when we die. We have our beliefs, which primarily serve to help us feel better about death, but our beliefs surrounding death are not provable. So I don't control what happens after I leave this earthly plane. However, I do have control over what I do while I'm here, and I'm learning to gain more control over my thoughts and actions. On a daily basis, I endeavor to do no harm, to others or myself. This means that when I pass from something that is not alcoholism or depression, those close to me will not feel as bad as if I had. In other words, addiction and mental illness affect not only the person living with them, but the people surrounding that person as well. There is something about self-destruction that really hurts those around us doing the destroying. In the midst of my disease, I did not know this. Today I do - that's one of the reasons I do what I need to do in order to stay sober and sane, even when I don't particularly feel like doing it. In fact, I've been increasing my connection with others in order to back up my mental health (which I will write about in an upcoming post).

I thought perhaps I lacked compassion or empathy, because I don't get as disturbed as some do when somebody dies. This isn't true; it's just that I was unsure of how to deal with the survivor's feelings. I've gotten some opportunities for experience in this area, and now I can be of support to a survivor. When grief hits us, we feel a multitude of feelings, and this is difficult to deal with, especially the guilt and anger. So when I listen to someone experience grief, I really listen, and I listen without judgment. Everybody experiences grief differently, according to their culture, their age, their experience with death, and their beliefs. There is no wrong way to experience grief. Grief is a natural process, and everybody will experience it. Everybody has experienced or will experience loss in this lifetime. We're not immune to it, even if we're best friends with God. Loss can really rock our foundation. So again, when I encounter someone who is grieving, I allow them to express what they are feeling and thinking - no holds barred! And my support consists of letting the survivor know they don't have to feel guilty, they're not bad or abnormal, and that a time will come where it doesn't hurt so much. I work with the survivor, not the party who has passed. As far as I know, the deceased might now be experiencing the time of their life (or death), but that doesn't matter. What does matter is that the bereaved doesn't suffer alone, and I will do what I can to accommodate that. 

In my upcoming piece on connecting with others, I'll write a little about the messiness that can occur when I deepen my connection with another soul. I recently set the intention to improve my conscious and emotional connection with others, and the shit really started hitting the fan. I realized that by insulating myself from true connection, I was trying to insulate myself from the pain and suffering that can happen from living in this physical plane; however, by doing so, I was also insulating myself from experiencing the joy that can happen from living in this physical plane. It will be a good piece of writing. At any rate, thank you for reading this, and allowing me to express some of my thoughts and feelings surrounding death and grief. I do hope for you that if you are experiencing grief you are able to share your experience with someone else. Each of us deserve some comfort and peace of mind, and sharing our lives with the right person or people can help facilitate this.

Namasté,

Ken