Forty-six years ago, when I was 11 years old, I lost my left eye. It got injured in an accident and I had it replaced with a prosthesis. I started the 6th grade shortly after it happened, and it was a difficult time. It takes a while to get used to monocular vision after having binocular vision - depth perception is all but gone, and bumping into things becomes much easier. And if I couldn't play baseball and basketball all too well previously, I sure couldn't now! Insult was added to injury when I became the class freak. Little kids are mean, vicious bastards, and will pick on anyone who doesn't fit into a fairly narrow version of what a 'normal' kid should be. I became acutely aware that I now had one eye, both from my own perspective and the perspective of those around me.
Eventually, I learned to integrate my experience - that is, I wasn't always conscious that I had only one working eye, and when brought up, it wasn't something about me from which I wanted to hide. And by 'eventually', I don't mean 3 or 4 months - try 6 years plus. (I was mostly cool with it as an adult, until I had occasion in a therapy group to talk about it, and I realized by the sweat pouring out of my armpits that I might still have some anxiety surrounding the issue. I learned at that time, in 2002, that I had held a resentment against God all that time for not giving me the healing I wanted. But that's another post). In high school I learned to drive, and discovered that I could drive decently with one eye - decent enough to get my driver's license. I'm not sure exactly how I handle the whole depth perception thing, but my brain has found a way to calculate distance while driving that works well, except when it's nighttime and rainy (or when I've been drinking, but even people with two eyes shouldn't drink and drive).
That's what I mean about integrating a life experience - being able to accept that I am a whole human being despite something 'bad' happening to me and being able to live well with a, frailty, for lack of a better word right now. Or maybe that is a good word. Yes, that's a good word.
Enough about the eye - this post isn't about body parts, it's about personal integration.
So at work, my new job, 4 or 5 people have asked how I came to live in the little town in which I now reside. I've told the truth, to each person - I've stated matter-of-factly that I was having problems with alcoholism and depression, and went into the treatment facility in this small town, and I live here now (for a while, anyway, but I don't say that at work). Telling the truth, especially in this instance, is a whole lot easier than making up a story that I'd have to remember and might bring on more questions. The truth has been received matter-of-factly as well; here's a person who had an issue and came here to do something about it, much like a person with a physical illness might visit the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, MN.
Had I made up a story, the worst thing wouldn't have been having to maintain the story; the worst thing would have been the damage done to my soul and psyche (maybe the same thing) by covering up an essential piece of who I really am. When I lie about myself and cover things up, I'm reinforcing the belief that I'm not good enough just as I am. I generate more shame when I try to pretend I'm somebody that I'm not. Now, I can walk through shame and guilt - I've done it before, a lot, and I'm pretty good at it - for a minute. Loading more stuff onto the shame I already carry pushes me closer to my next relapse.
Another life experience came up at work. One of the guys with whom I work has mentioned a couple of times that he's done time (spent time in prison). Ok, cool, whatever. So we're working the other day, and he asks me, "You ever been to prison?" This caught me by surprise, but I still responded with, "Yes." Then he asks where, and I tell him the Wisconsin prisons I've stayed at (I left out Kansas, because I didn't think he was talking about Kansas). Then he asks when, and it turns out we were at the same correctional facility for a time. Now, I don't know this guy from Adam, but he must have remembered my face, because he remembered that I was a tutor who helped inmates get their GED. And I'm thinking, what the hell? What are the chances of working with a guy with whom I was in prison 17 years ago? It turns out that we've both been able to avoid going back since that time, so it's all good.
A faithful reader of this blog might think that I've bared my soul through this blog enough to be rid of any shame I might have harbored. Nope - it's just the tip of the iceberg, but it really does help. It's not necessary for me to tell everyone I meet my whole life story, but it's evident to me that it is necessary for me to be able to share my experience with others when it does come up.
I want to be authentic and integrated. More than want to, it is necessary for my continued mental health and sobriety. Integrated means pieces put together and whole. It's like a jigsaw puzzle - when the pieces are put where they fit, and they're all there, the puzzle makes a beautiful picture. If pieces are missing, or in the wrong place, it detracts from the picture.
Nothing happens, nothing could happen, in life without the Universe's permission. This is not to say that every experience every human has is good - far from it! There's lots of pain and suffering in life, along with joy and beauty. I certainly don't know the why behind everything. I do know that a lot of the bad that happens in this world is the natural consequence of unskillful thinking. Another portion of the bad that happens, at least in my life, comes from trying to cover up - it comes from straight up dishonesty and the ego's desire to show the world a different face than what's really going on. And covering something up guarantees that it's going to happen again.
Let's take an easy example. Say I went out drinking last night (I didn't, but let's just say I did); in the morning, in addition to remorse and a hangover, I've got people around me asking what the hell I was up to last night. If I tell the truth as best I can, I'm allowing Light to shine on the subject, and I've a better chance of being led to a solution. If I'm dishonest, I'm keeping my actions and my motives in the dark. Now I've just added a shovelful of guilt and shame onto myself. How does an alcoholic live with guilt and shame? This one doesn't - he drinks again to cover it up, which adds yet more guilt and shame.
So a part, maybe most or all, of being authentic and integrated is rigorous honesty. It's not easy, but it's necessary. Honesty allows the light to shine on a problem, which then can yield a solution, and the problem doesn't have to repeat itself. Healing can take place.
That's a major part of what I'm doing at this time in my life - learning and taking the risk to be vulnerable, to be honest, so that I might reconcile my past with who I am today and live this life joyously without shame.
The Universe just spoke through the librarian at the library where I'm writing this to let me know I've got just a few minutes left, so I'll wrap this sucker up. If you're still with me, thank you!
There are 3 or 4 people in the world who know me, and who still think I'm a pretty neat guy. Yeah, I know, there's no accounting for taste! But I am beginning to accept that every experience, good or bad, has led me to this point today, to being the person I am today. My thoughts, feelings, and actions have shaped me into the person I am today, so even if I've had some less than desirable experiences, the ultimate result for a lot of them has been a better Ken. So my goal is to shine the Light on the stuff that still lurks in the darkness, so that I may come to love myself more, to love life more, and to become even more useful to this world.
I'll keep you apprised.
Namasté,
Ken
Showing posts with label Authenticity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Authenticity. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 28, 2019
Sunday, January 20, 2019
The Challenge of Medication
I'm currently in an outpatient treatment program, and have a new psychiatrist. He's a good psychiatrist; he possesses one of the most important yet rare traits a good physician can possess - he knows how to listen. At any rate, after many questions regarding my life and my condition, he has prescribed 4 medications for me. This is the greatest amount of medications I've ever been on at one time in my life, and it presents a challenge for me.
If you've read the white space in my blog, you might know that deep down, I want to be dependent only upon the Christ Presence within - that is, the unique individuation of the Universe that I Am. I'm not there yet.
During this current outpatient treatment, I'm not only releasing my dependency upon alcohol, I'm releasing my dependency upon nicotine and pseudoephedrine, an over-the-counter (but controlled) nasal decongestant and antihistamine. It's mood-altering because of its stimulant properties and it seems to be habit forming, at least for me. Pseudoephedrine is also one of the ingredients used to make methamphetamine. I suppose caffeine and sugar are next on the chopping block - they're both mood-altering for me.
So I may be sober, but not really, because I still rely upon substances to get through life, to get through the way I feel. And my good doctor is telling me, "Get off of that stuff (the stuff that in the long run no longer works and will make me sick or kill me) and get on this stuff (the stuff that is sold by pharmaceutical companies and works today and doesn't make me sick yet)."
And this is the challenge: I know deep down that the chemical and culinary methods I've been using to stay sane don't work to well anymore (if at all) and I don't have a lot of faith that the medication regimen that I'm on now will work forever and ever, and I don't want to get hooked into the pharmaceutical merry-go-round, which really isn't all that merry. Added to this challenge is the fact that on my current regimen of medications, I'm feeling better than I have in a long, long, time, if ever. I was walking today in the frigid weather, and I was making up a song, out loud, as I walked! It's been years and years since I've done that! And there's a lot of other stuff happening in my life that indicates the cloud is lifting.
The clouds might lift, but they always seem to be waiting in the wings to return (that's depressing, isn't it?). So what's the answer to the challenge that I'm feeling great now, but because of the temporary nature of solutions that originate from outside of me, I'm bound to fall again? I believe the answer is in proper self care along with putting first my recovery and learning to live, not just know, my connection with the Universe. All the answers are hidden within; my task, while I'm feeling weller, is to go within and earnestly seek. In this way, I will know what to do when the medications' effects begin to wane.
In the next post, The Challenge of Self-Care (which will be linked just as soon as it's written), I'll discuss how I might go about developing habits which reduce the need for chemical relief from life.
Namasté,
Ken
If you've read the white space in my blog, you might know that deep down, I want to be dependent only upon the Christ Presence within - that is, the unique individuation of the Universe that I Am. I'm not there yet.
During this current outpatient treatment, I'm not only releasing my dependency upon alcohol, I'm releasing my dependency upon nicotine and pseudoephedrine, an over-the-counter (but controlled) nasal decongestant and antihistamine. It's mood-altering because of its stimulant properties and it seems to be habit forming, at least for me. Pseudoephedrine is also one of the ingredients used to make methamphetamine. I suppose caffeine and sugar are next on the chopping block - they're both mood-altering for me.
So I may be sober, but not really, because I still rely upon substances to get through life, to get through the way I feel. And my good doctor is telling me, "Get off of that stuff (the stuff that in the long run no longer works and will make me sick or kill me) and get on this stuff (the stuff that is sold by pharmaceutical companies and works today and doesn't make me sick yet)."
And this is the challenge: I know deep down that the chemical and culinary methods I've been using to stay sane don't work to well anymore (if at all) and I don't have a lot of faith that the medication regimen that I'm on now will work forever and ever, and I don't want to get hooked into the pharmaceutical merry-go-round, which really isn't all that merry. Added to this challenge is the fact that on my current regimen of medications, I'm feeling better than I have in a long, long, time, if ever. I was walking today in the frigid weather, and I was making up a song, out loud, as I walked! It's been years and years since I've done that! And there's a lot of other stuff happening in my life that indicates the cloud is lifting.
The clouds might lift, but they always seem to be waiting in the wings to return (that's depressing, isn't it?). So what's the answer to the challenge that I'm feeling great now, but because of the temporary nature of solutions that originate from outside of me, I'm bound to fall again? I believe the answer is in proper self care along with putting first my recovery and learning to live, not just know, my connection with the Universe. All the answers are hidden within; my task, while I'm feeling weller, is to go within and earnestly seek. In this way, I will know what to do when the medications' effects begin to wane.
In the next post, The Challenge of Self-Care (which will be linked just as soon as it's written), I'll discuss how I might go about developing habits which reduce the need for chemical relief from life.
Namasté,
Ken
Thursday, September 13, 2018
No Comparison
One of the common threads of addiction and mental/emotional unwellness is the belief that we are less-than; that, as we are, we aren't enough and probably never will be. I don't know if this false belief is the chicken or the egg, but once it's deeply rooted, it feeds on itself and proves itself over and over again. It is essential to my recovery that I reverse this belief.
Last night I met with a group of people to do a little spiritual exploring. I had only met one person in this group once before; I had never consciously met the other 6 people there. There were a lot of notable things that happened last night, but for the purposes of this post, I'm going to focus on this: Even though I didn't really know these folks, and even though I didn't know exactly what we'd be doing, I felt totally comfortable and at home among them. I will note that nobody asked me who I was, why was I there, where I was from, what I did for work, how old I was, if I was single or married, if I was in recovery, or any of that. I was among a group of people for whom those things don't matter, and they didn't matter to me, either.
So, today I recognize that by being myself, and not trying to be anybody else, I am led to situations and people that are right for me. This is a big turnaround for me, and relatively recent. It's awesome because I've spent most of my life trying (and failing) to measure up to people around me. There is a great sense of freedom and serenity in not having to measure up.
I grew up with the belief that I was pretty useless, and would never measure up. Looking back, I can see the biggest error of my ways was that I never shared with others what I thought about myself or how I felt inside - therefore, I never received any arguments to my thinking, and I didn't realize it was flawed thinking. And I reinforced my thinking every step of the way. I remember very well being about 5 or 6 and looking at my brother's or sister's mathematics book, not understanding it a bit, and feeling stupid and thinking, "I'll never be able to do that." Which became the truth - I never did master algebra; however, most 6 year old children do not have a grasp on algebra - I was comparing myself to people who had lived twice as long as I had, and feeling bad because I didn't measure up. I look back on that today, and I'm like, "Doh!" But it was very real to me. And so it continued - I compared myself to those around me, and even in my age group I was never the smartest, cutest, brightest, fastest, strongest, nicest, funniest. Never!
And the incredibly sad part is I was also never the best me I could be, because I was always trying to be like somebody else.
Five years ago around this time, I understood that if I were to live, I'd have to learn to be authentic. What does that mean? What does that look like? At it's very core, being authentic means I am unashamedly myself. I stop apologizing for who I am. (Please note that I still apologize when I wrong or hurt someone). I stop shaming myself when someone else doesn't think I measure up. I begin to put into practice the idea that I was created with my unique set of gifts for a reason, and I stop trying to justify myself or my existence to myself or to others. I begin following a path that feels right inside. I begin releasing the expectations that I think others have put on me.
And this is an important point, and the one that I drive home with myself and those with whom I work: Even though I was given a certain set of expectations by the society and family in which I was raised, in the end, it is my responsibility to listen to my inner guide, my higher self, and follow Its guidance. I begin to find out what brings me joy and peace, and put more attention on doing those things and becoming the same person on the outside that I am on the inside.
It means moving into alignment - with God, if you will, or my higher self, or my conscience. Finding this alignment, this peace with who I really am, is essential to my recovery - when I am at peace with how I'm showing up in the world, I don't find it necessary to drink alcohol or use drugs. There is no inner conflict that needs to be quelled; if I want to change my mood, I do it by placing my attention on what makes me feel the way we want to feel.
One of the great benefits of allowing myself to be me is that I begin to allow others to be themselves as well. I drop the comparisons. I stop assuming I know what is best for you. Even better, I become more concerned with getting to know your insides rather than your outsides. The Truth begins to take on more importance than the illusion. And I'm not very concerned with how you view me.
Life is less frustrating for me today, more enjoyable, more peaceful, more real, more purposeful. That's my story and I'm sticking to it!
Namasté,
Ken
Last night I met with a group of people to do a little spiritual exploring. I had only met one person in this group once before; I had never consciously met the other 6 people there. There were a lot of notable things that happened last night, but for the purposes of this post, I'm going to focus on this: Even though I didn't really know these folks, and even though I didn't know exactly what we'd be doing, I felt totally comfortable and at home among them. I will note that nobody asked me who I was, why was I there, where I was from, what I did for work, how old I was, if I was single or married, if I was in recovery, or any of that. I was among a group of people for whom those things don't matter, and they didn't matter to me, either.
So, today I recognize that by being myself, and not trying to be anybody else, I am led to situations and people that are right for me. This is a big turnaround for me, and relatively recent. It's awesome because I've spent most of my life trying (and failing) to measure up to people around me. There is a great sense of freedom and serenity in not having to measure up.
I grew up with the belief that I was pretty useless, and would never measure up. Looking back, I can see the biggest error of my ways was that I never shared with others what I thought about myself or how I felt inside - therefore, I never received any arguments to my thinking, and I didn't realize it was flawed thinking. And I reinforced my thinking every step of the way. I remember very well being about 5 or 6 and looking at my brother's or sister's mathematics book, not understanding it a bit, and feeling stupid and thinking, "I'll never be able to do that." Which became the truth - I never did master algebra; however, most 6 year old children do not have a grasp on algebra - I was comparing myself to people who had lived twice as long as I had, and feeling bad because I didn't measure up. I look back on that today, and I'm like, "Doh!" But it was very real to me. And so it continued - I compared myself to those around me, and even in my age group I was never the smartest, cutest, brightest, fastest, strongest, nicest, funniest. Never!
And the incredibly sad part is I was also never the best me I could be, because I was always trying to be like somebody else.
Five years ago around this time, I understood that if I were to live, I'd have to learn to be authentic. What does that mean? What does that look like? At it's very core, being authentic means I am unashamedly myself. I stop apologizing for who I am. (Please note that I still apologize when I wrong or hurt someone). I stop shaming myself when someone else doesn't think I measure up. I begin to put into practice the idea that I was created with my unique set of gifts for a reason, and I stop trying to justify myself or my existence to myself or to others. I begin following a path that feels right inside. I begin releasing the expectations that I think others have put on me.
And this is an important point, and the one that I drive home with myself and those with whom I work: Even though I was given a certain set of expectations by the society and family in which I was raised, in the end, it is my responsibility to listen to my inner guide, my higher self, and follow Its guidance. I begin to find out what brings me joy and peace, and put more attention on doing those things and becoming the same person on the outside that I am on the inside.
It means moving into alignment - with God, if you will, or my higher self, or my conscience. Finding this alignment, this peace with who I really am, is essential to my recovery - when I am at peace with how I'm showing up in the world, I don't find it necessary to drink alcohol or use drugs. There is no inner conflict that needs to be quelled; if I want to change my mood, I do it by placing my attention on what makes me feel the way we want to feel.
One of the great benefits of allowing myself to be me is that I begin to allow others to be themselves as well. I drop the comparisons. I stop assuming I know what is best for you. Even better, I become more concerned with getting to know your insides rather than your outsides. The Truth begins to take on more importance than the illusion. And I'm not very concerned with how you view me.
Life is less frustrating for me today, more enjoyable, more peaceful, more real, more purposeful. That's my story and I'm sticking to it!
Namasté,
Ken
Thursday, February 1, 2018
My Only Regret
I know I'm not supposed to have regrets. I really don't have any, but from time to time I wish I had been outwardly rebellious as a child. The inward and sideways rebellion I practiced nearly killed me, and it's taking a long time to recover from that.
When I reached my teens, I wanted to run away. Too chickenshit, maybe, or not enough self-esteem, or maybe it was just my path to sit in my shit. I hated my home, I hated my parents, I hated (most of) my school. Instead of physically running away, I chose to escape chemically, which, of course, ignited the alcoholism within me. Even if I had stayed where I was, but stood up for myself - but that wasn't to be.
I share this because I know there are others out there who have lived or currently live in situations that feel intolerable. A lot of people I know are so pro-family that they would be loyal to their parents even if they were serial killers. Today I believe that sometimes a person just has to call a turd a turd, walk away, and not look back.
I don't know that life would have been better, or that I would have been better. It would have been different, that's for sure. I feel like I spent way more time than was necessary living my life for others - hoping to gain someone's approval. What nobody told me (or what I never heard) was that most of all I needed to gain my own approval. I need to live my own life - trying to live someone else's version of my life just does not work.
And so I do that today. And, because of my experience, I share whatever wisdom I've gained from living the way I did with others. Because I believe depression stems from oppression (either by self or by others), I encourage others to begin to live from who they really are. I let folks know that they're just fine the way they are right now. I meet a lot of people who are thoroughly disappointed in themselves because they've failed to meet the expectations of someone else. I am going to repeat that:
I meet a lot of people who are thoroughly disappointed in themselves because they've failed to meet the expectations of someone else.
And you know what? It's bullshit! We were not created to fulfill anybody else's purpose except our own. We were not created so that someone else could live vicariously through us. We were not created to atone for someone else's self-perceived shortcomings and mistakes.
I encourage and support anybody discovering and living to their purpose at any age, but I especially let young people know that they are individuals with a unique set of gifts and talents and their own life to explore. If it happens to mesh with someone else's life, awesome. If not, that's fine, too.
I came into recovery, then, with a double-whammy - first, I felt a lot of shame and guilt because I didn't live up to someone else's expectations of me, and second, I feel the shame and regret from wasting my time on earth trying, instead of exploring who Ken is.
It's not easy to switch gears and begin living to one's own purpose. It's challenging, difficult, and sometimes sad. But it's also real, and it's enriching. If there were some sort of camera that could capture the way I felt about myself and my life 40 years ago and the way I feel today, the difference would be amazing. In my mind I see the dark, timid little creature I was 4 decades ago, and today I see the bright colorful being I'm becoming. It's amazing. And if I don't, even today, live up to the standards of a few people, well, too bad. Save your standards for yourself, not me. I've got my own, thanks.
There, I feel better.
Namaste,
Ken
When I reached my teens, I wanted to run away. Too chickenshit, maybe, or not enough self-esteem, or maybe it was just my path to sit in my shit. I hated my home, I hated my parents, I hated (most of) my school. Instead of physically running away, I chose to escape chemically, which, of course, ignited the alcoholism within me. Even if I had stayed where I was, but stood up for myself - but that wasn't to be.
I share this because I know there are others out there who have lived or currently live in situations that feel intolerable. A lot of people I know are so pro-family that they would be loyal to their parents even if they were serial killers. Today I believe that sometimes a person just has to call a turd a turd, walk away, and not look back.
I don't know that life would have been better, or that I would have been better. It would have been different, that's for sure. I feel like I spent way more time than was necessary living my life for others - hoping to gain someone's approval. What nobody told me (or what I never heard) was that most of all I needed to gain my own approval. I need to live my own life - trying to live someone else's version of my life just does not work.
And so I do that today. And, because of my experience, I share whatever wisdom I've gained from living the way I did with others. Because I believe depression stems from oppression (either by self or by others), I encourage others to begin to live from who they really are. I let folks know that they're just fine the way they are right now. I meet a lot of people who are thoroughly disappointed in themselves because they've failed to meet the expectations of someone else. I am going to repeat that:
I meet a lot of people who are thoroughly disappointed in themselves because they've failed to meet the expectations of someone else.
And you know what? It's bullshit! We were not created to fulfill anybody else's purpose except our own. We were not created so that someone else could live vicariously through us. We were not created to atone for someone else's self-perceived shortcomings and mistakes.
I encourage and support anybody discovering and living to their purpose at any age, but I especially let young people know that they are individuals with a unique set of gifts and talents and their own life to explore. If it happens to mesh with someone else's life, awesome. If not, that's fine, too.
I came into recovery, then, with a double-whammy - first, I felt a lot of shame and guilt because I didn't live up to someone else's expectations of me, and second, I feel the shame and regret from wasting my time on earth trying, instead of exploring who Ken is.
It's not easy to switch gears and begin living to one's own purpose. It's challenging, difficult, and sometimes sad. But it's also real, and it's enriching. If there were some sort of camera that could capture the way I felt about myself and my life 40 years ago and the way I feel today, the difference would be amazing. In my mind I see the dark, timid little creature I was 4 decades ago, and today I see the bright colorful being I'm becoming. It's amazing. And if I don't, even today, live up to the standards of a few people, well, too bad. Save your standards for yourself, not me. I've got my own, thanks.
There, I feel better.
Namaste,
Ken
Sunday, January 28, 2018
Let's Get Real!
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| From "The Velveteen Rabbit," Margery Williams, 1922 |
I have survived, despite a half-century of self-neglect and self-abuse. Much of the self-destructiveness I practiced centered around my fear of living life and my fear of me. There is a spark of life within me that even I don't have the power to snuff out. When I accepted that reality, I knew that I must begin to learn to face the biggest obstacle to me living a decent life - me.
Most people understand shortly after they begin their recovery journey that they are going to have to face some things - that part (or maybe all) of our addiction comes from the desire to cover up what we don't like or fear about ourselves. We basically have to face our darkest secrets in recovery. That can be scary. No matter what the darkness is - resentment, fear, shame from being abused or from being the abuser - whatever - it is poison, because it remains deeply hidden within us, away from any kind of light. Our secrets and our shame becomes a cancer, and, if left untreated, eventually destroys us.
Now, almost none of us walks into a recovery meeting the first time, or into treatment, and blurts out, "Hi, my name is so-and-so and I hate my mother." Rarely happens. Much of the time, our 'stuff' that we carry into recovery is a tangled mess - so much so, we are often unaware of all of it, and we need assistance with untangling it all.
When we were young, many of us learned we had a 'permanent record', and that it was a very bad thing to have anything on this permanent record. Say you stepped on a crack in the third grade. You were worried for the rest of the day, knowing that your mom was lying on the kitchen floor, unable to move, because you were careless and broke her back. So, you get home as fast as you can to rescue mom, and discover that she's just fine - no broken back. On the one hand, that's awesome! We didn't permanently injure mom! On the other hand, that stepping on a crack was still a bad thing to do, even though it seems like it had no effect - this time. In the 3rd grade we did not possess the critical thinking skills to determine the difference between the truth and bs. And then, one of (at least) two things happen - we learn that, perhaps, in certain circumstances, maybe we can get away with doing something 'bad', or, we thank God, or our lucky stars or whatever, that we didn't break mom's back through our carelessness, and vow to never, ever, ever step on a crack again.
But what about that permanent record? If we get a C in geometry, it might prevent us from getting into the finest post-secondary education, and we'll end up with crappy jobs for the rest of our lives, marry beneath our station, have ugly, delinquent children, and be miserable, unhealthy wrecks until the day we die. And, because we got that C in geometry, we might end up hanging around with the wrong bunch, and get into smoking cigarettes, drinking, and maybe even sex. All of that goes on our permanent record, which, if it isn't perfect, guarantees us to have a shitty life.
Yes, the two examples - hurting someone through doing something innocent like stepping on a crack, or ruining our lives because we're average in math - are outrageous examples as we read them with an adult brain. But the concept isn't outrageous. As children, we learned that our parents and elders were always right (or we learned to not trust). So, if someone tells us we're going to go to hell because we swore or told a lie or stole something, or, if in a moment of anger, we said, "Dad, I hate you!", that can stick with us even as adults who understand that that Hell probably isn't going to happen. (Imagine how confused a person must get if they're told they're bad by an abuser. That's a mess to untangle!).
So everybody has a dark side. Everybody learns to cover it up. If one is a human being without an addiction or a mental health condition, one could probably go their whole lives without shame affecting them much. However, in addiction and mental illness, any shame we have is magnified and multiplied, because it is food for the addiction and or mental health condition. But every human being presents a 'socialized' self to the outer world, and the self we present is rarely if ever a perfect reflection of who we really feel we are on the inside.
My experience has been that if I want to recover, I have to get as close a match between my outside representation of myself and how I am on the inside. It's scary and challenging. I can say, however, that it is not only possible, but one of the best things I could ever do for myself. Here are some of the benefits of getting real that I've experienced:
- I no longer walk around with a nagging worry that someone will 'discover' me and reject me;
- I experience more peace and happiness with who I am;
- I have a better group of friends than I've ever had, and I haven't had to bribe or coerce them to be my friends - they're real, too;
- I have more mental energy to focus on the things I love, because I'm using less to keep up an image;
- I have less depression, and I self-sabotage a lot less;
- I get to stay sober;
- I no longer feel like a fraud every.single.day;
- I trust others more;
- I trust myself more;
- I believe my opening up, being real, and showing that it's not only possible but desirable allows others to be real;
- My relationships are real (and, conversely, fake folks drop away);
- I grow to love myself and humanity more.
These are just some of the benefits of allowing myself to be the person that the Universe created. It's all about freedom - that which we cry for so much, yet push away by our actions. And I understand today that my flaws and imperfections are there as ways to connect with my Higher Power and others; because, trust me, if I were perfect, I wouldn't have nothin' to do with nobody. This I know.
It is a scary process, but one which is quite doable if done prudently with safe people. A person probably doesn't want to walk into the biker bar they've been going to for the past twenty years one night and announce that they're gay. However, there are other ways to come to healthy grips with who we are. If you're interested in doing this, start by finding someone who has done it themselves.
Shakespeare wrote, "To thine own self be true." He knew. He knew.
Namaste,
Ken
Wednesday, January 24, 2018
What I Get When I Open My Mind
I used to not believe what I could not understand. This is kind of the way humans are, I think. But I took it one step further - because my thinking was so right, if I couldn't understand it, it wasn't understandable. I did not seek to understand; I didn't even seek to accept.
For instance, if anybody ever saw any good in me, either they were lying or I had them fooled. This kind of attitude makes for very short relationships, and by relationships, I mean all kinds - friendships, romantic relationships, jobs, etc. If you thought I was a decent person, you were either lying or delusional, because deep down, I knew I wasn't a decent person. I wasn't the kind of person that had anything that was likable or any sort of skill that was useful to anyone.
This belief in my innate badness is very much a shame-based belief. It was so strong that it persisted despite much evidence to the contrary. Most people (I think) think they are pretty good people who occasionally make mistakes or do bad things. My perception of me was that I was basically a bad person who occasionally did good things.
In my opinion, it is impossible to stay in recovery and keep this attitude. Or, it is impossible to keep this belief and stay in recovery. It is also impossible, in my experience, to keep this shame based attitude and have a healthy relationship with God.
I will not say that I presently have the best attitude or belief about myself that I could have, but it's better than it used to be. I'm finally beginning to see that there are steps in between the alpha of desperately sick and the omega of perfectly healthy, much like there are steps to acceptance.
I saw a bumper sticker a few years back that said, "Don't believe everything you think." Good advice! As I've mentioned in previous posts, the human brain is set up to jump to conclusions. It takes effort (plus a little insight) for most folks to move past their first thought. But lazy thinking isn't my only problem. It is the tip of the iceberg. My problem is the thoughts and perceptions generated from a lifetime of thinking that I'm a piece of breathing, walking shit. The change in my thinking must come from my depths - surface change isn't lasting change.
So here's how this whole scenario used to show up for me: I would get some opportunity that would give me hope that I had some kind of chance at having an enjoyable life. Because I had this great opportunity and some hope, I could avoid doing the things that were majorly self-destructive, like drinking. But the change was only on the surface. Because I knew so much, or maybe because I was too afraid to let anybody in on who I thought I really was, I did not go after the deeper stuff - the beliefs. When I was young, I didn't even know that I had no self-esteem, or shame-based beliefs, or any of that shit. The way I felt about myself was as natural as my hair color or my eye color. It was me.
When I began to recognize that maybe, perhaps I don't process life like everybody else, I did not seek to understand what was different - I simply tried to suppress that difference. Because I'm smarter than everybody else, you see.
So I would cycle. About every two years (sometimes longer, if I had a prison sentence - that seemed to help in a strange way) I would crash. I would start drinking again, quit my job, abandon my domicile, quit my marriage or my relationship, and jump head-first into self-destruction. Until somebody stopped me and gave me some hope. It got to the point where I hated getting hopeful again, because I knew I was in for another disappointment down the road. This used to be my life. Crash and burn, get some hope, do well for a couple of years, crash and burn.
What's different? A little over four years ago, after a crash and burn, I resolved to become authentic. I knew I was a big fake, and I knew I couldn't recover unless I became authentic. So I started down that path. Started. I was in a relatively safe place to be me, whoever the heck that was. But after I left that place, I reverted to Mr. Sobriety and went about making my millions, rather than allowing more healing to take place. So, after nearly two years, I crashed and burned again - the last crash and burn.
I still needed to practice authenticity, but I also needed to keep recovery first. And that I have been doing. But what was the change? I think I've mentioned it before, in different ways - I've basically run out of f^&#$ to give. I no longer care about if someone finds out who I really am. I no longer care if I make a million or if I don't. I don't even really give a good goddamn if anybody likes me or not. And when I dropped those prereqs to recovery, lo and behold, I began to get better. Bit by bit, I began to heal.
So what happened to the belief that I'm basically a pile of shit who occasionally manages not to stink? In addition to letting go of what I thought others might think of me, I began to let go of what I thought of myself. I began to put less stock in my own thinking. I began to see if maybe others weren't right when they said I was a decent human being with a something to offer. And the results of this inquiry - perhaps call it "Maybe Ken doesn't know everything" - have led to some amazing discoveries.
The biggest discovery is I'm not the person I believe I am. I sure don't know who I am, but I'm not the waste of oxygen I once thought I was. Being relieved of that underlying belief has made sobriety a lot easier, and it has made recovery from depression possible.
I saw myself on videotape last night. Twice in the past couple of weeks I've had occasion to speak at some meetings at city hall. I was fishing around the city website, and came across recordings of those meetings. I was surprised at what I saw when I was on tape. Here was a gentleman who wasn't ugly - looked pretty normal to me - and said what he had to say in a nice and interesting manner. I knew that was me, but part of me didn't recognize me. I'm used to public speaking, and I like doing it, probably because I'm often talking about myself, and I seem to be received well. During these two meetings I did not know I was being videotaped, so it wasn't like I was doing anything for the camera - I was just doing what I do. It's like writing for me - it just comes out. Yet I thought it was funny that I really didn't recognize myself. And I'm grateful, because it shows me that my perception is still not on target. I need to know that, because every once in a while I dip back into shitville.
I'll mention one other amazing thing before I close - and this is very important: Because other people took the time to acknowledge and support the good they saw in me, I can now see the good in others who perhaps find it difficult to see themselves. This is one of the greatest gifts I've ever, ever received - to not only see myself differently, but to see others in a different light as well (Cyndi Lauper's 'True Colors' is bouncing through my head now).
I've heard this for the past 25 years - my perception creates my reality, not the other way around. And I'm just beginning to manifest this truth. When I toss away my first thought about anything and allow something better to take its place, I start to get better and my world gets better.
Namaste,
Ken
For instance, if anybody ever saw any good in me, either they were lying or I had them fooled. This kind of attitude makes for very short relationships, and by relationships, I mean all kinds - friendships, romantic relationships, jobs, etc. If you thought I was a decent person, you were either lying or delusional, because deep down, I knew I wasn't a decent person. I wasn't the kind of person that had anything that was likable or any sort of skill that was useful to anyone.
This belief in my innate badness is very much a shame-based belief. It was so strong that it persisted despite much evidence to the contrary. Most people (I think) think they are pretty good people who occasionally make mistakes or do bad things. My perception of me was that I was basically a bad person who occasionally did good things.
In my opinion, it is impossible to stay in recovery and keep this attitude. Or, it is impossible to keep this belief and stay in recovery. It is also impossible, in my experience, to keep this shame based attitude and have a healthy relationship with God.
I will not say that I presently have the best attitude or belief about myself that I could have, but it's better than it used to be. I'm finally beginning to see that there are steps in between the alpha of desperately sick and the omega of perfectly healthy, much like there are steps to acceptance.
I saw a bumper sticker a few years back that said, "Don't believe everything you think." Good advice! As I've mentioned in previous posts, the human brain is set up to jump to conclusions. It takes effort (plus a little insight) for most folks to move past their first thought. But lazy thinking isn't my only problem. It is the tip of the iceberg. My problem is the thoughts and perceptions generated from a lifetime of thinking that I'm a piece of breathing, walking shit. The change in my thinking must come from my depths - surface change isn't lasting change.
So here's how this whole scenario used to show up for me: I would get some opportunity that would give me hope that I had some kind of chance at having an enjoyable life. Because I had this great opportunity and some hope, I could avoid doing the things that were majorly self-destructive, like drinking. But the change was only on the surface. Because I knew so much, or maybe because I was too afraid to let anybody in on who I thought I really was, I did not go after the deeper stuff - the beliefs. When I was young, I didn't even know that I had no self-esteem, or shame-based beliefs, or any of that shit. The way I felt about myself was as natural as my hair color or my eye color. It was me.
When I began to recognize that maybe, perhaps I don't process life like everybody else, I did not seek to understand what was different - I simply tried to suppress that difference. Because I'm smarter than everybody else, you see.
So I would cycle. About every two years (sometimes longer, if I had a prison sentence - that seemed to help in a strange way) I would crash. I would start drinking again, quit my job, abandon my domicile, quit my marriage or my relationship, and jump head-first into self-destruction. Until somebody stopped me and gave me some hope. It got to the point where I hated getting hopeful again, because I knew I was in for another disappointment down the road. This used to be my life. Crash and burn, get some hope, do well for a couple of years, crash and burn.
What's different? A little over four years ago, after a crash and burn, I resolved to become authentic. I knew I was a big fake, and I knew I couldn't recover unless I became authentic. So I started down that path. Started. I was in a relatively safe place to be me, whoever the heck that was. But after I left that place, I reverted to Mr. Sobriety and went about making my millions, rather than allowing more healing to take place. So, after nearly two years, I crashed and burned again - the last crash and burn.
I still needed to practice authenticity, but I also needed to keep recovery first. And that I have been doing. But what was the change? I think I've mentioned it before, in different ways - I've basically run out of f^&#$ to give. I no longer care about if someone finds out who I really am. I no longer care if I make a million or if I don't. I don't even really give a good goddamn if anybody likes me or not. And when I dropped those prereqs to recovery, lo and behold, I began to get better. Bit by bit, I began to heal.
So what happened to the belief that I'm basically a pile of shit who occasionally manages not to stink? In addition to letting go of what I thought others might think of me, I began to let go of what I thought of myself. I began to put less stock in my own thinking. I began to see if maybe others weren't right when they said I was a decent human being with a something to offer. And the results of this inquiry - perhaps call it "Maybe Ken doesn't know everything" - have led to some amazing discoveries.
The biggest discovery is I'm not the person I believe I am. I sure don't know who I am, but I'm not the waste of oxygen I once thought I was. Being relieved of that underlying belief has made sobriety a lot easier, and it has made recovery from depression possible.
I saw myself on videotape last night. Twice in the past couple of weeks I've had occasion to speak at some meetings at city hall. I was fishing around the city website, and came across recordings of those meetings. I was surprised at what I saw when I was on tape. Here was a gentleman who wasn't ugly - looked pretty normal to me - and said what he had to say in a nice and interesting manner. I knew that was me, but part of me didn't recognize me. I'm used to public speaking, and I like doing it, probably because I'm often talking about myself, and I seem to be received well. During these two meetings I did not know I was being videotaped, so it wasn't like I was doing anything for the camera - I was just doing what I do. It's like writing for me - it just comes out. Yet I thought it was funny that I really didn't recognize myself. And I'm grateful, because it shows me that my perception is still not on target. I need to know that, because every once in a while I dip back into shitville.
I'll mention one other amazing thing before I close - and this is very important: Because other people took the time to acknowledge and support the good they saw in me, I can now see the good in others who perhaps find it difficult to see themselves. This is one of the greatest gifts I've ever, ever received - to not only see myself differently, but to see others in a different light as well (Cyndi Lauper's 'True Colors' is bouncing through my head now).
I've heard this for the past 25 years - my perception creates my reality, not the other way around. And I'm just beginning to manifest this truth. When I toss away my first thought about anything and allow something better to take its place, I start to get better and my world gets better.
Namaste,
Ken
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