Ending the Shame Game

One of the things I know from this relapse is that I still have shame within me. I believe that anyone who is free from shame is also free from the desire, or even the ability, to purposely hurt themselves. For a quick reminder, the difference between guilt and shame is that guilt is feeling remorse for something I've done, and shame is feeling remorse for who I am. Guilt I can do something about - own up, apologize, and make amends. Shame is a bit more involved - it involves revisiting and healing old wounds that keep re-wounding themselves. Shame is about healing the trauma that happened to us, usually at a young age, or refuting the lies that were told to us about who we are, also usually at a young age. Shame is usually encapsulated, for protection, in a false identity that we portray to the world.

Once shame is discovered, or uncovered, getting rid of it, for me anyway, involves refuting it every time it comes up. For some of us, this can be dozens of times a day. For instance, a very common symptom of shame is the belief that I'm not good enough. I feel I'm not good enough often, but not as much as I used to. I am fortunate in that I have tons of evidence to refute the idea that I am not good enough, and I use that evidence to birth a new, more skillful belief, that - nope, not that I'm good enough, but -  I AM ENOUGH. I take out the word good because that has subjective judgment on it, and I need an unassailable belief.

Related to I'm not good enough is I'm not deserving of love. This has been for me a much tougher shame belief to refute, although, again, I have tons of evidence to the contrary. Again, the belief must be hammered at every time it comes into my consciousness, but, I think with this one, it also must be acted upon. Not only must I see that there are a lot of people who love and care for me (and there are), I must not question it; just accept it. However, accepting it also means intimacy, and that is very scary (I'm talking emotional intimacy here). I must be vulnerable, which means that I might get hurt. I know today that I still avoid intimacy. I'm happy to open up to others and let them get to know me, but only the parts with which I'm comfortable. And in this game of eliminating shame, we each individually know deep down inside which areas need to be opened. For instance, I'm an incredibly open person with my recovery and a lot of my past, but there are areas that I still protect. One might think that in this blog that I bare all, when the truth is that I'm still wearing quite a bit of underwear. So I think courage is required to eliminate shame.

It's a process, not done overnight. There are other methods for eliminating shame, all done with professionals. I won't go into them here.

What about the shame of living with a couple of brain conditions? (A friend of mine recently talked to me about not liking the term mental illness; I think it still has its place, but sometimes brain condition or brain disorder is more descriptive). 

Vince Lombardi, the late great coach of the Green Bay Packers, said, "I don't care how many times you fall; I care about how many times you get back up."

There can be a lot of shame in relapse, but there doesn't have to be. Shame in mental unwellness and addiction/alcoholism kills. There are programs which expect 100% sobriety - it's very difficult for a person who experiences a relapse to go back to a program where physical sobriety is the most important aspect of sobriety. There's always that spectre of failure, and - did you guess it? - I'm not good enough. It really sucks when one has hit bottom and joined a group of drunks, and then can't measure up to that group. Many people who relapse do not make it back for that reason, and end up dying from their disease. Often more wreckage is created before they go.

In order to not acquire more shame for living with 2 brain disorders, I have made my recovery my own. It doesn't belong to anybody else - it's my business. Remember one of SAMHSA's principles of recovery? That it is individual - I get to define what my recovery looks like. This doesn't mean that I don't utilize all the resources I can, or that I don't desire complete mental and physical health. What it does mean, for me, is that I give myself a break, and don't add injury to insult by shaming myself for being human, and for having a recovery program that isn't perfect, but evolving. I allow people their opinions, and if somebody doesn't like the way I live my recovery, they're free to look the other way.

And what this really means is that I can bounce back into recovery with relatively minimal damage. I don't have to stay 'out there' for 6 months or a year until my health is ruined, my brain is wet, or I die. I can feel the pain of relapse and do what I need to do to get better as soon as possible without worrying (too much) about what anybody else thinks.

I stayed a few days in a hospital recuperating where I used to share Stories of Hope - sharing my recovery with others. It wasn't easy, but it was doable, and I'm glad I did it. That's one secret I don't have to bear. It can be about achieving 100% sobriety for the rest of our lives, but, for some of us, maybe for the majority of us who live with this disease, or live with co-occurring conditions, it's just not really in the cards. And this doesn't mean that I plan or look forward to my next relapse - I certainly hope and will work for that there isn't a next time. But there may be.

The Universe told me that I'm a lot more effective a servant if I'm alive rather than dead, and that my life, no matter how imperfect, can and does make a positive difference in the lives of others.

And so does yours. If you happen to live with a brain condition, mental health disorder, alcoholism and/or addiction, and are finding the road rough, please don't judge yourself. Utilize every resource available and do the best you can. You are special, valued, and loved, and you and your life does have purpose. Release the shame - it's an unnecessary rock.

Namasté, 

Ken

Home Again

I'm home again, at my regular place of residence. It feels good, which is a good thing to me - it really sucks for someone to get out of the hospital and not have a safe place to stay. I have a safe place to stay, and I am surrounded by friends. I am rich.

I have been in relapse for most of the last month, meaning I have been dangerously symptomatic, meaning I have been suicidal and drinking. Today, gratefully, I am in recovery.

In the posts moving forward, I will continue to write about my experiences, as I have been. I will continue to use my experience in both mental wellness and mental illness, still with the emphasis on mental wellness. I won't apologize to anyone, except to those I hurt during my relapse. Thankfully, this time, those are relatively few.

What I have learned so far from this period in my life is that I cannot afford to hang onto anything, no matter how innocuous, no matter 'where' in my recovery I think I am. (I'm beginning to see that the 'where' I am in my recovery is, or ought to be, 'now'.) Basically I wasn't sharing something that was bothering me. It wasn't anything major (or was it?); it was somewhat embarrassing, to me. However, when I finally did talk about it with others, it didn't seem like something that I might be embarrassed about. It was just a fairly normal situation that I got myself into that bothered me that I didn't know how to handle. The situation itself hasn't been resolved yet*, but at least I'm not alone with it anymore.

Although I finally felt better yesterday, and the day before, inside I still wasn't sure that I wanted to carry on. As a matter of fact, I really didn't, and I asked Source or the Universe to be relieved of my duties in this lifetime. I wasn't going to do anything to end my life, but if I dropped dead of an aneurysm or something, I wasn't going to complain. That sounds crazy, because it is. 

But as I write this today, after being home awhile, I am willing to carry on and see where the Universe takes me. One of my personal goals is to fall in love with life, which seems like a tall order since she can be such an ugly bitch sometimes. But I will work toward allowing myself to be open to it; after all, plenty of others do love her, so she must have some overriding good qualities that maybe I'm missing.

So, here I am, carrying on.

*The situation has been resolved in God's mind; I still need to make myself open to whatever the resolution is, and when that happens, the resolution will manifest. That's a basic spiritual principle.

For all of you who have reached out and prayed and sent healing energy and thoughts my way, I am deeply grateful. Thank you.

Namasté,

Ken

Did Anyone Ever Tell You It's Ok?

Did Anyone Ever Tell You:
It's ok to hurt without knowing why?
It's ok to cry in my arms for as long as you need?
It's ok to feel?
It's ok to not know?
It's ok to be a (man, boy, woman, girl)?
It really is ok to feel overwhelmed?
It's ok to curse?
It's ok to feel unsure?
It's ok to play?
It's ok to be angry?
It's ok to be sad?
It's ok to believe?
It's ok to not believe?
It's ok to break something?
It's ok to hurt someone (as long as you make amends)?
It's ok to disagree with me?
It really is ok to cry (for any reason)?
It's ok to say "no"?
It's ok to ...
I want to write "It's ok to fuck up once in a while" but in the interest of propriety I won't.
Just curious...

Namasté, 

Ken

Making a Difference - Part II

As some of you know, I'm struggling right now - struggling with sobriety, and struggling with staying alive. I'm not going to go into the gory details in this post - as I've demonstrated in most posts, I hope, the message is  more important. The mechanics of recovery can be picked up in a few simple easy lessons, if we're willing.  Much more, to me, is what these are about - what they teach us about resilience, love, and learning, and especially how to let the God in us shine through, even when we think we're buried 10 feet beneath us in the shit.

Because the whole story, in anybody's story, is how to let the God shine through. And some days are more challenging than others!

(By the way, if you are not religiously inclined, and that really is ok, substitute the word God in the paragraphs above with Source, Force, Universe, Jesus. Creative Presence, Zach - because, in the end, the name we attach to that with fills our life with Good is less important than recognizing the force Itself. Yugo. Whatever).

So, I have been going through a tough time. Will I live? Probably, but at this point I have some very valid doubts. I might die. I hurt all over, I'm sick all over, and, at times, I am REALLY FUCKING TIRED OF PUTTING UP WITH THIS SHIT FOR THIS LONG. The reason I'm not afraid to say this is  that I KNOW I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE. This, though I'd like it to be, is not an uncommon feeling. Many  alcoholics/addicts and people in mental health recovery have felt or are feeling this.  My deal is that I'm one of the folks willing to talk about it.

Many of us who have grown up in 12-Step recovery programs have been taught that if you gain a certain simple attitude and follow these very simple instructions, you will gain "Sobriety" for the rest or your days of conscious existence. And it's true! Unless, of course, you have co-occurring conditions, or, the white-bread world of the founders of 12-Step programs doesn't apply to you, or you have something else going on besides pure alcoholism/addiction.

Listen (read) closely, because this might save your life or someone else's: There are as many ways to recover from substance use disorder and/or mental health disorders as there are people who have them. I can't, and would not want to, count up the number of needless deaths from people who have been taught and believed otherwise.

It's really possible that I'm trying to save my own life in writing this; perhaps I am, and maybe that's ok. If it's not, God, or the Universe, or Luke and his Force will let me know.

Recovery is individual. It's wonderful - very much so, if you drank for 20 years. stayed sober for 40 years, and died peacefully in your sleep. That isn't everybody's path, and, IT DOESN'T HAVE TO BE.

Recovery looks different for everybody. Even for those in a 12-Step recovery program. It would be really, really cool if this weren't the case, but it just doesn't seem to be so. Seemingly, there are as many recovery programs as there are people needing them. That's a big shocker, aintso? Seems to be the case, though.

Here's why I'm writing this: I am really, really done with running with the idea that people in need of recovery need one program - I've seen that kill people. I really have.

I think it would be really helpful for people in the recovery to start looking at recovery as more than an "all or nothing" type of thing. I think we might find more people experiencing recovery as a result.

And isn't that the goal? Or shouldn't it be?  I believe more now than ever in the support aspect of recovery. Getting to know a person, and finding out what they want their recovery to look like. Surprisingly enough, that's SAMSHA's idea as well.

Here's the bottom line: If I die tonight, (or this morning, by now), I die. Will I be considered a loser, because I did not have 35 years of so or recovery? Or will the things that I did while I was striving for recovery count? Let's face it, I'm going to take my consciousness with me, so whether I'm a complete loser or a complete success (or somewhere in between) are pretty much up to me. But shouldn't I (or we) offer others the same opportunity?

The very, very most important thing to do is to hang in there, because in so doing, you (and I) give the next person the opportunity to recover.

Namasté, 

Ken

Making A Difference

I've just returned from a two-week vacation in Japan. It's been a while since I've been on vacation, and it was quite the experience. There's a whole lot I could write about my vacation experience, but, I am compelled today to write about two men who are heroes of mine.

On the plane ride back from Japan, I had the opportunity to watch a documentary on Robin Williams. I cried so much, and even as I write this, I'm crying. Robin Williams touched the lives of so many in a positive way, yet he had his difficulties. I suppose that's an understatement. Nobody who had achieved a life of honor and achievement has not had their difficulties. Life is difficult - those who embrace the difficulty of life and live through it are the ones we who we look up to - the ones whom we think of when times are rough, the ones we think of with admiration. The ones who give us the whatever it takes to keep going sometimes.

Robin, though incredibly talented, and born to a well-off family, did not lead the picture-perfect life. He lived through 3 marriages and difficulties with substance use. Ultimately, it was a brain disease that took his life; his most cherished organ (or maybe 2nd cherished, if you listen to his comedy) was ultimately his demise. Isn't that the way it goes sometimes. Yet he made millions of us laugh and cry and feel. Here was a person who lived life to the fullest - the good, the great, the bad, the sometimes ugly - he was there for it. Not a perfect person, by any means, but one who hung in there, and entertained us all while doing so (I have a soft spot in my heart for entertainers).

The other is Wayne Dyer. Here was a man who grew up fatherless, yet did not let that stand in the way of his advancement. In many ways, the way he grew up propelled him toward success. Wayne, like Robin, I think, was a seeker. And Wayne also made his life quite public, through his writing and his speaking. He led his life unashamedly, knowing that life, his life, any life, is a process of growing and discovery. One can see his growth by reading the books he published. Like Robin, too, Wayne grappled with his own inner demons. There was a certain sense of ego that one could see in Dr. Dyer with which he must have struggled with often. People who are in the public eye seem to have evident egos, with which they either do well or not. I think Wayne handled his pretty well.

These gentlemen are my heroes because their lives were an open book. There wasn't a lot of pretense. Both of these men treated others who they didn't know well the same as they would treat their best friend. I think both of them had a certain humility - humility being the knowing of one's rightful place in the scheme of things. Both lived from the heart, and both shared their lives pretty openly. Both were men I could trust to tell me the truth, each in their own way. 

Both men, through living their lives with purpose, helped to change the lives of others.  I think that right there is the definition of a good person. They made a real difference in the lives of those around them.

I think we all need people to whom we can look up to. And it doesn't necessarily make a difference whether those we look up to are famous or not - I think it's just that we recognize somebody whose life made a difference in our own - somebody who makes us cry when we think of them, or somebody whom we're grateful that they were around for us. 

I don't know that either of these men desired fame in their lives. I believe that both lived from their hearts, and that's what I recognize most in the people who help me to live well. I am blessed that I have heroes in my life, both famous and unknown, whose presence make me want to live better - to live a life that leaves a positive imprint. I aspire to that.

Namasté,

Ken

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

Riding the Wave

It's been raining a lot lately, and communities in the region are experiencing flooding. If I find myself in a body of water that wasn't there before, or really any body of water, I've got a few choices. The easiest one, of course, is to let the water overwhelm me and drown. Another choice might be to thrash around and yell until somebody notices me and rescues me. Another might be just to sit or stand where I am and hope the water subsides or a rescue boat floats by. And perhaps a fourth choice would be to learn to swim - to understand that perhaps I can work with the water that surrounds me, use it to lift me up and maybe even carry me to dry land. 

I mention this because I consciously tried something a little different today while at work. I came in to work today with my agenda of things I wanted to do, knowing full well that it was unlikely to go exactly as I wanted it to go. And, sure enough, today, for some reason, I was flooded with urgent calls that had nothing to do with what I planned to do. Part of my job is to take care of the callers, so that's what was mine to do. Really every time I got a call today, the phone would ring again halfway through the call with someone else needing assistance - they'd leave a message (or not, bless their heart), and I'd call back to assist them. And I log all of my calls too, so there's time used for that.

For those of us in recovery, stuff like this can throw us. Probably for everybody, but those of us in recovery need to be able to get back to some equilibrium - stress is something that needs attention so that we don't become symptomatic. Now, I don't freak out over lots of unexpected stuff to do, but it has in the past drained me quite a bit, and sometimes irritated me and lowered my emotional state. 

I've been learning lately to put my emotional state - my 'vibe', as it were - first. That sounds counterproductive - isn't that what I did when I was actively using alcohol? Isn't that self-centered? Not when done properly with the right intention.

First of all, how am I viewing the flood? I learned early in recovery that what works best is to take things as they come, and not judge them as good or bad. Floods have their purpose, and, while not necessarily pleasant, they can have value. In other words, this is what is in front of me and it is mine to do - no bitching, whining, or trying to run away from it. I've had to re-learn this throughout recovery, because as I gain more stability and confidence and my skills sharpen, I'm prone to begin to believe again that I actually know what I'm doing and can run my own show. In other words, ego begins to grow. So I'm reminded as the waters rise that it's time for me to set aside what I wanted to do and take care of the business at hand as best I can. 

One of the things I just thought of is that I have a 'reject' button on my phone that, when pressed, sends an incoming call right to voice mail. I'm grateful I didn't even think of doing that.

Anyway, as I'm taking care of this 'extra' business, I can feel the stress level in my body rise. A few months ago, I posted a video that talked about how stress can actually be beneficial when viewed and responded to correctly. So today, being conscious of my stress along with the direction my feeling state was headed, I was able to take some action to turn today's flood into a good experience, and the action I took was purely mental - all I did was instead of inwardly complaining about the calls and worrying whether I'd get 'my' stuff done, was I changed my attitude.

Everything is energy. We don't necessarily see it, but it is. So I had this unexpected energy coming at me today. My choices were to resist it as much as possible, escape it somehow, or, ride the wave of energy. When we resist, we're using our own energy to push against something, and we deplete ourselves. When I escape, I may save my energy, but I lower my emotional feeling state, and that can cause me to do negative things later on. If I can ride the energy coming at me, I can get through it until it dissipates, and not lose my own energy or my emotional well-being. Although I'm not a practitioner of the martial arts, I think that that's the same thing martial artists do. Be ok with the wave and just ride it.

Today is the first time I've intentionally done this, and it really worked well. Notice the wave, keep my emotional state 'above water' by not judging the wave, ride it and do what I have to do with it, and move on. And give thanks for the wherewithal to handle what comes my way.

One of the things to remember, I think, is when the wave is over, stop riding it. I handled all the calls and requests; the people who called have stuff to do on their end, but now it's theirs; I don't have to concern myself with it, and I can go back to doing what I was doing.

I'm really grateful for today's lesson.

Namasté,

Ken