Jumpy

i was just thrown a really good lesson in not jumping to conclusions. The time i spend so anxious about so many things is so counterproductive. And yet i still get tangled up in it. My first go-to is self criticism. The habit that started at about age 11, and the grooves are set deep in my brain. As much as i try to forge new paths, that well beaten path is where i tread. But i can't just resign myself to fruitless anxieties and self deprecation. i need to keep redirecting my thought and energies to optimism, acceptance, solution, and hope, until it becomes as natural as the old mindset. i'm currently in between the two. What had transpired at work was certainly confirmation to keep on doing the head-work i am.

The way i came into my position at the company was rather unexpected and quick. A teacher had put in her 2 weeks, i was in the middle of my training, i was the only plausible candidate to take her place. They still had a choice in asking me to fill that role, and when they did i was thrilled. i felt honored that they trusted me enough to ask this of me, and excited about the opportunities that were laying themselves out. They expedited the rest of my training, then threw me in. i certainly hadn't absorbed everything i needed to, i mean you could train for 6 months and still not feel adequately prepared, but i had most the basics and still a lot of help from the other teachers around me.

Being new in a craft is awkward, and there's a lot of stumbling, and so much to absorb. Just by natural wiring, i am very hard on myself. i tend to think lowly of myself and have a pervasive fear of inadequacy. However, i am also naturally good with kids, have a strong understanding of the mechanics of swimming, and apparently am inherently sweet and likable. These things make the job easier, and actually quite fun. Aside from that, though, i want so badly to be a good teacher to these kids. i want to know the skills thoroughly so i can explain to them new things and watch them learn and grow. i fear failing them.

In one of my classes, it's a nice bunch of bouncy happy 3 and 4 year olds. i love them. One day, two girls bounced right off the steps while i was working individually, they were in over their heads and tried to use each other to propel themselves back. They were drowning. It happened in a split moment that my eyes were on the boy i was floating with, so i was alerted to it by the shrieking of their mothers. i scooped them up, brought them back to the steps, and made sure they were okay. i drove home the of waiting patiently and safely on the steps for their turn. The rest of the class was fine, we were still learning and having fun, while also internalizing that lesson of patience & managing energy (for the kids) and class management (for me). i was a little shaken up, of course. One of the moms (her daughter had been on the steps during that incident) had comforted me, saying i handled it all in the best way, those girls were pushing the limits, the moms are a bit uppity, everything was fine. i was happy to hear that feedback.

The following week, that girl shows up in a different class. i lifeguard during this time. They smiled and waved to me, i did the same back, but i was very confused. i ran through in my head everything that'd happened in that class, then what mom had said after the girls' drinky time. They seemed happy with me. i convinced myself it was just a front, the family acted sweet but they secretly hated me, and i was doing a "good job" but not good enough for them so they went to another class with a better teacher. i watched the class holding back tears, feeling i'll never be a good teacher, all my kids would leave me, i'll fuck up the company and be banned for life.

After the class, the sweet little girl came up to me and gave me a hug. The mom explained that her gymnastics teacher just graduated her to a new level, and they were really sad to be missing my class, but happy they'd at least see me guarding. The relief practically slapped me in the face. i had been torturing myself for the 30 minute duration of the class. Like, okay, it's not all about me - i'm not the piece of shit the world revolves around (damn being an ego-maniac with an inferiority complex), everyone's got other stuff going on, people generally understand my learning curve as a new teacher and wish me well. i stepped back, i laughed at myself, and was able to be kinder and softer for a while after that.

i jumped the gun in a way that could be pretty destructive to me. i'm happy it was so promptly shut down. i've been carrying this lesson with me, really trying hard to remember people are generally good, staying right-sized and knowing my place in a system, i'm okay -  not the bane of everyone's existence nor the sole source of sunshine. Just a worker among worker and friend among friends. There's a lot to learn for my job, and i'm learning pretty quickly. i have fun at work, have fabulous coworkers and bosses, i'm reaping wonderful experiences, i'm in a really good place in my life - especially after everything i've been through.

Key phrase: Take everything in stride and stay rooted in gratitude.

Timing and Places

Anniversaries are funny times. It seems many people get a little restless, squirmy, squirrely. i get that too, but mostly for me, anniversaries cue reflection and acknowledgement of growth. Sometimes celebration, sometimes just a quiet knowing. 

On October 17th in 2008 i began my journey of sober living. i remember the conscious decision i made that i was tired of living in misery and wanted to change. i accepted that drug use was prolonging my misery and it had to stop. It was the first of my 4 addictions to go, and it really paved the way for my whole recovery. AA became my saving grace, the meetings were like a hug for my brain, my wheels could stop spinning and i could listen to people who felt my struggles and rose above them. i found people who wanted to help me, they began to love me back to health, they genuinely wished me well and wanted to help me succeed. 

The cutting calmed down about 2 years later, the eating disorder a little after that, with many slips and relapses. The sex addiction expressed itself in waves, and finally lost its grip completely when i found someone worth being monogamous for a year ago. Sometimes i wonder if i should claim sobriety for as long as i do, since i had this myriad of active addiction. But putting down using and working AA is what gave me a fighting chance with the rest of my disease. Without that piece first, i'd have been a goner for sure. 

i have a pretty good understanding of my mental illness. i don't necessarily have a name for it, but i don't need one. i stay focused on the solution. 

i don't buy into the stigma against mental illness. i used to feel the backlash of how our society operates with it. But worrying about that is not worth my energy. i've learned the people who judge me negatively for what i've been through are not the type of people i want to be around. i seek out people to have reciprocal fulfilling relationships with. And actually, they abound. More people than not understand, and are happy to hear of my strength and resilience. 

So i'm pretty open with past and current struggles. Risking being real with people, more often than not, is way more rewarding than superficial interactions. It offers a certain hope and encouragement, i think.

The best thing about when i share about my strides, and anniversaries, on Facebook is not the 'likes' or the comments (although i do quite enjoy that), but when someone messages me, inspired by what i shared, and asks for help. 

i met with a girl the other day who's been struggling to get clean. Her addiction's got a pretty good hold on her, and she's trying her damnedest. So we just talked. Most importantly, we connected. i feel that's the key to recovery. Connecting, relating, working with people who understand and want to build you up. That's certainly what did it for me, and i hear so many others express the same thing. So i did that for her. And we're gonna spend time together, and i really believe, a little at a time, things will click for her and she'll get it. She'll be able to live sober. 

We all get better with the help of a community. i know mine was quite large and worked very hard to help me. i came back from a really deep dark pit. But here i am and my life is piecing together and i'm doing pretty well. Without others carrying me on for a bit, i couldn't have made it. So i'm really honored when i can be a part of someone's helping community.

Build Up After A Breakdown

My breakdowns are still rather frequent. My intense emotions leave my composure fragile. And i'm still doing a lot of work to build up my esteem, confidence, critical thinking, and interdependence (rather than just dependence). It's not that i'm weak (though catch me in a particular moment and i'd say i am), but it's a struggle for me to not get caught up in the anxiety of uncertainty, or catastrophize horrible scenarios, or berate myself. i can spend  hours in a day worrying about someone i love getting hurt, someone i love not liking me anymore, not being good at my job, being cornered, being lost. Historically, everything works out. Sometimes with no correlation to how much energy i expend.

My main focus should be accepting things the way they are, and trusting that i will always be able to move forward. No matter how badly i want to change certain things about my life, some things are just meant to be. i may writhe in discomfort about my crowded apartment in a seedy neighborhood with mounting messes, but it's much better than the chaotic dysfunctional home i came from. i'm starting a life with my wonderful, devoted, determined, passionate boyfriend, and our current home works with our finances right now, and our roommates are our friends, and we're learning to manage our messes, budgets, and routines, before we can move on to some fancier living. It's not my ideal, but it's completely appropriate for this point in our lives.

We both feel a bit held back by difficult families, and are trying to balance time with them and building ourselves up. We've both felt burdened by our parents and had to do a lot of work to dig ourselves out of the holes we were in. We've both grown a lot, but our ties remain because Ilya's parents still rely on him heavily due to their language barrier, and my parents still just have a great emotional hold on me. Most times when i start to unravel it has to do with a spat with mom, or dad's disapproval, or the unfairness of my sister's childhood, or how little i get to see my brother. The layers of turmoil i've felt with my family are deep, and rather easily activated. Try as i might to stay detached, level headed, focused, and hopeful, i can still be reduced to a whimpering puddle. i have a strong sense of how i think things should be, and i feel hurt when those expectations don't play themselves out. Never mind i've never even had the experience of things going the way i plan. Sometimes i suffer through disappointment, sometimes reality puts my dreams to shame. i don't know why i bother to have expectations at all.

But no matter how i fall apart, i am always provided with a means to put myself back together.

So, my most recent breakdown happened at work, kind of a scary place to become so vulnerable. The fortitude of my composure had been tested by an argument with my mother and grandmother, feeling the heaviness of being the one who shows up for my sister (this time for a school event), general feelings of anxiety, low self worth, and doubt, a therapy session right before work, and then rounds of high energy, loud, sweet, adorable, exhausting kids to teach and one particularly high stress incident. i couldn't find it in me to wait til i got home to start crying. Thankfully, my boss is a compassionate thoughtful woman, and took me into her office so i could let it out, talk a bit, and recompose myself. Once i stopped blubbering, i spilled to her a bit about where i come from - the pain of my mom's addiction, my rocky adolescence with hospital & boarding school intervention, the intense worry i have for my sister, some guilt for having my own stable fruitful life, but ultimately the strength and hope i posses that is clearly immutable. She listened very well, expressed sympathy for my hardship, told me that she sees a light in me, spotted it the first time we met, is excited to have me as part of the team, and wants to help bring out that light even more.
i'm very grateful for this moment with her, but it also puts me in the position i need to be very careful with. i need to stay professional, watch my boundaries, and check my transference with maternal-figure boss, lest i jeopardize my great standing with the company. i love my job, i love what i do, i love that the staff all feel like friends, and i would hate to lose it.

So i'm learning and growing from all this, and the key is really to just leave my past in the past, drop my baggage, don't bring it anywhere new. i need to stay aware and grateful of the things in my life that are reliable and joyful, and keep it simple - otherwise i'll reawaken the incessant yearning for more. More excitement, more attention, more validation, more love. That type of never feeling whole that led me to dive head first into the spiral of self destruction and ruled my life for years. i will not go back. i know the simple acts to maintain a defense against it, and every day i  must follow through with at least one.

Getting that Satisfaction

Conflicting desires. One of the core, one of an insidious malady. My core craves wholeness, enjoys the simple pleasures - being grounded in the moment, basic needs being met, connection to other human beings. My disease is a sensationalist - always in search of an addictive vice, trying to achieve numbness, getting caught up in excitement, shock, anger, melancholy. They take turns sitting in the center of my mind. i vacillate from gratitude to discontent, awareness of every little gift in my life to flailing to fill a perceived emptiness.

This dichotomy holds the reigns of my life and i feel a mess. i struggle with consistency and stability.
i had a meeting the other night that totally smashed the complacency i've been riding recently. i'm completely in the habit of not drinking or using, and generally abstaining from self-destruction. i haven't really had to work on that piece, or even put much thought into it. My life is good today, especially when compared to my past. i forget pretty easily how miserable i was. how dependent i was on my vices just to get through a day. i get a random craving occasionally, and i find myself romanticizing those old days a bit: so impressed and proud when i could go 4 days without eating, denying a fundamental human need feeling stronger to be above it, high on control...; reveling in the relief that washed over me as a sharp tool drove through my skin, my anguish was cleaned up and thrown out with those bloody tissues...; escaping effortlessly with drugs, taking me out of myself, reconstructing the moment, feeling badass...; taking solace in promiscuity, after rape had left its impression in me, getting stuck in trying to redo that encounter, to reclaim the power i was robbed of, to use another as i had been, to know i was irresistible, and rework my beliefs of sex....

They all crossed over beautifully, too. i loved restricting while smoking pot - the strength to deny those munchies amplified my highs. A man's rough hands caressing my ribs while riding him sent me into fits of ecstasy. Forcing vomiting helped me give better blowjobs. Cutting after a bad fuck wiped a gross slate clean. Cutting after snorting oxy got me intense mellow. Coke kept me skinny and peppy, i was on top of the world. Sex got me free drugs. Oh, what a system i had. My reality was the web of these addictions. My entire being circled around them. If someone were to identify me by any of these, i was glad. Despite everything that should have been natural, i thrived on self destruction.
But now it feels like a different person who lived those days.

Though i still feel her inside me, because i can look back on that time fondly, almost like i miss it. i suppose it's because immersing myself in that chaos is was kept me alive for so long. From age 12 i was fixated on suicide, but i kept getting sidetracked from making a plan and executing, since, well, i'd have to go cop, or go write out some new food rules, or go dissect a shaving razor to etch in relief, or go eat a little something just to force it back up and out. If i wasn't perpetually nagged by addiction, it became relentless, it was like being under a tyrant, but otherwise i sincerely could have been dead and gone.

Because it (they) so effectively served many a purpose, it's easier to romanticize. i minimize how it wrecked my health, how deeply and thoroughly i hated myself, how adamantly i believed i did not deserve to live and was obligated to kill myself. i've worked so hard to climb out of the dark trenches i dwelled in for so long. Some days in full combat - ceasing the behavior, stopping negative thoughts to change them to accepting encouraging ones, reading uplifting literature, talking to people who cared about me, my life, my wellbeing, praying to a God who created me, loves me, and has purpose and plans for me. Other days were full of sulking, sadness naps, angsty journaling, questioning God, complaining about how hard it was to try to change. But i trudged through, kept waking up day after day, i rode the rollercoaster of my whacked emotions, time did its thing. Amazing changes happened. The difference is so night and day. i'm not sure if i could find the one tipping point, strides were made every so often and they built on each other until i got so used to walking on my own i forgot how much was done to pick me up from the pit i was drowning in and carry me on.

My troubles today are not life or death matters. i have some debt, i occasionally worry about the people i love, i want to be productive responsible reliable and amicable at work, i need to clean more. That's basically it. Sometimes i do get caught up in anxiety, and then i feel my disease reaching out to me again....

i much prefer to live my days now rooted in my core, aware of and grateful for everything, riding out some discomfort and knowing that it'll pass and keeping myself from giving in to vice. When i think i'm bored and start to look for some excitement, i just gotta come back to myself and think about which source of craving i want to satisfy. If i satisfy vice, i awaken a tyrant that will always demand more and more from me, push me to compromise my values for a fix, and destroy me, til i hate myself to terribly again. If i satisfy my true self, that of light and love, i will be built up, i will keep all the many gifts i have and still more will be brought, i'll have wonderful relationships, i can help others struggling through the darkness. i'll be stable and content.

Intent.

Yes, i escaped death. But that won't pay the bills. i'm 21, struggling in this economy with everyone else, wrestling with the multitude of thoughts rattling 'round in my head, maintaining a crazy head-over-heels relationship, on a break from college, working a job, working on myself.

For a while i've hung my hat on the fact that i'm a sober drug addict, readjusted anorexic, healed cutter, depression&anxiety warrior, sex addict/abuse survivor in a happy monogamous relationship, rising up against extreme family dysfunction... i had gotten cozy with almost every malady in the DSM IV and made it through incessant suicidality. While it is quite fabulous that i sustained so much strength, i cannot say all my work is done. There are still so many areas of my life that have been dwarfed while more pressing matters took my attention and energy. 

i feel i'm working with a significant deficit in trying to stabilize my life. From ages 12-17, my focus was the classic to-be-or-not-to-be (with no thanks to Shakespeare, just my own biology). Grades took a back seat, i ended up spending more time in hospitals and treatment centers than school. My clinicians may or may not have taken better care of me than my parents. The lack of support i had in a non-clinical environment (i still have trouble calling it "home") made it rather impossible to be successful. My gratitude for the two years i spent in residential therapy/ boarding school is immense, it shaped me into a strong, aware, level headed, determined young woman, who from there would finish senior year in public high school and complete college applications and resumes and essays and maybe even mainstream....

i was accepted into my dream school, and what a crushing blow it was when finances prevented me living that dream. i made so many goals and plans to get to a beautiful life i had imagined. It felt like someone captured my image and threw it in the fire. i took that opportunity to relapse with some choice unhealthy behaviors. But of course, cue intervention, and i was put back on a better path. i had tried community college but i sabotaged it. With the help of a fairy godmother i acquired a lifeguard certificate and started working and that opened the door to the job i have now.

i happen to absolutely love my job. i got involved with a facility that is pioneering a more comprehensive way of teaching swimming and i truly admire and believe in them. i thoroughly enjoy everyone i work with and for, the children are absurdly cute, and watching everyone learn and grow is such a gift. 

Right now i need to balance my past with my present. i'm so used to carrying the heaviness of what was with me everywhere i went, be it school, job, with friends, with self. But i've been in recovery for a solid 6 years now and i can choose to leave it behind and forge a new path for a new self.

My problem is that i'm so used to being acknowledged for what a hard trek i've had, how amazing it is that i've come so far, people telling me i'm so strong, so smart and wise, so graceful, an inspiration,  swelling my pride and stroking my ego. i forget that i have to be responsible, complete tasks, follow a routine (at least some semblance of one) if i want to be mildly successful. i get lazy, i want things handed to me, i want to indulge, i like naps, the internet, and putzing around. The mess of my room is appalling. i'm just beginning to try to figure out the puzzle of laundry. i waste money on weird things. Emotions still trip me up. My therapist and i are on a texting basis. In some ways i still feel like that lost little girl, though comparatively my life now is pleasant and mild. But i did not work so hard in recovery to settle for mediocre, unfulfilling, head-just-above-the-water living. Since the one image went up in flames, i created a new one, and i have a couple back ups, and maybe i'll just do it all. i still have a lot of goals and plans and getting through this first part of my life is showing me what i'm capable of for the future.