The darkness recedes, the light will hold on just a little bit longer. i love a good Solstice. i've had space to reflect on my year, and develop some hope for the future.
Rewind to last Solstice and journey with me. i had just had my heart broken. i was crying a lot, i muddled through Christmas. i was a bit more cheerful during a family New Year's celebration. 2014 began.
Ten days into the new year, that brilliant beautiful man and i decided to give us another chance. We fell back into our sweet rhythm, with a few tweaks, and we've been strong since. i am so grateful.
i carried on lifeguarding at a local fitness center. It was quiet and boring. It gave me a lot of time to be inside myself. i really got a lot out of it.
On Valentine's day i went to Philly for some Ratdog. A whirlwind experience. Hippie love in a cold city.
In March, just when the cold had become much too much, i escaped with my best friend down to Florida. A divine week with her extraordinary grandparents. i can home and the fitness center closed. i kind of floated around aimlessly for a bit.
April warmed up our days. i lounged around in my favorite coffee shop. i did family and friend stuff. i got my first tattoo. Some discouragement about my life was felt. i kept goin along.
June sent me soaring. i saw Ilya accomplish a Tough Mudder and it made my heart sing. i gallivanted up a mountain for a music festival and had an awakening. i was inducted into a tribe of faeries. i got to hug one of my favorite artists, Michael Franti. i formed amazing bonds. i hitched a ride home with a friendly stranger. Hippie bliss.
And then i landed a new fabulous job. i found a swim school with a unique style of teaching and an overall warm atmosphere. (It's also 90 degrees in there lol). i filled a need as a new guard.
Random summer happenings came and passed. Fun hangouts between working, and making a home with my boyfriend. i had experiences bonding with people through a language barrier. Ilya's family and i have formed relationships despite them not being English speakers and me not being a Russian speaker (yet). What a gift.
August made me high, i've never been so elevated. The Gathering of the Vibes, my home festival, breathed life into me - fluttering around as a faerie, crafting with kids, amazing music, fantastic friends. Two weeks later, a new festival, Bella Terra, brought new adventures. Beautiful Earth indeed. Then i turned 21. A day i was anxious about since embarking on sobriety 6 years ago. A day at the zoo, some family, friends, and cheesecake made it more fulfilling than i could've imagined.
In September i had my first experience saving someone. At a pool party, little girl fell off her float. Quick action, no damage.
At work i was asked to grow with them. i started training to become a teacher with them. Come October, my coworkers relinquished a handful of classes to me, and i really started to come into my own.
Though i've never been so sick as this Autumn. Fevers, ear infections, incessant mucus. But it cleared eventually.
November brings both a lot of stress and gratitude. Work started to feel a lot like another home, i was fitting in seamlessly, and i was being nurtured. i ran around on Thanksgiving to 3 parties and ate 3 feasts, and resolved never again.
In picking up so much of my family's slack, Ilya and i realize we'll make pretty good parents. On the backburner, of course, but when it comes we won't be worried.
We trudged through December, budgeted for gifts, made our plans, and got through it. Here we are.
i can see how much i've grown. Most notable is my financial independence. i'm very proud of myself. Less than a year ago it seemed like such an unattainable goal. But here it is. i have this chaotic apartment with my wonderful boyfriend and we dream for our future - our apartment after this and, of course, our ideal home, someday pets, someday marriage, someday kids, someday travelling in our retirement.
He's working on his career, getting his massage therapy license to help pay for nursing school. i'm secure in my job, loving the people i work with and for, learning every day.
Our families of origin take inconsistent priority. We're both doing a lot of work. We have friends come around but we are each others' rocks.
For the first time in my life, i've reached a significant level of contentment. A lot of times it seems surreal. Yes, there are still many struggles, and still some baggage to sort through. But really, i can just take a deep breath and be happy.
Tuesday, December 30, 2014
Sunday, December 28, 2014
The Light In The Darkness
i used to hate Christmas. A rather long list of why i hated Christmas. For a few years, during the month of December, i would just seethe.
Throwback
Why i Hate Christmas: A List
- i hate the cold
- i hate the copious amounts of food, as someone with an eating disorder
- i hate the commercialism, it's stupid. and pisses me off as a Christian.
- i hate the fancy outfits
- i hate the family drama
- i hate people watching me open presents
- i hate the "joy"
- i hate the expectation
- i hate the disappointment
Til along came an angel that helped me turn my view around. There was a woman in my church that i got pretty close with. i told her about my despairing of the holiday time. She empathized with me, and then she challenged me. She asked me to start a new list. And she would do it, too. We would keep our eyes open, and find things around us that weren't so bad, maybe i could like, might be a source of comfort, or reprieve from the craziness, or reflect some serenity, or even inspire a smile, that only the holiday season could bring. The first thing on our list came to us in a small package. As we talked, a little girl of about 3 pranced around the room with her beautiful blond tresses tied up in a red satin ribbon. Her outfit and liveliness seemed very influenced by the most wonderful time of the year, and even i couldn't deny that it was very cute. i conceded, and i promised to find at least 5 things. On the first Sunday in the new year, we'd share our lists with each other.
i ended up finding 11 things. i wish i still had that first list. It was a turning point, and i could actually feel things physically shifting inside me. i carried on with the list for the following 4 years, until i could find some felicity without trying too hard.
This year proved to be a challenge. Yes, i've reconciled with many of the items on my old list. i've accepted the cold, i enjoy much of the food and dressing up and people watching me open presents, i pay less mind to commercialism, family drama, and really try not to have any expectations at all but rather take each moment as it comes. This year could've been fantastic, but my emotional state held me back.
With the resurgence of the trauma, i definitely had a fear of falling apart. i reached out to my priest for some support. Reverend Judy has seen me at my darkest. She held my hand, soothed me, guided me. She's watched me transform from a scared broken dispirited child, to a resilient bright hopeful woman. She has been one of my biggest cheerleaders, and is a significant support. She eagerly made time for me, even during this very busy time.
When we got together, we got right to it. She remembered my past struggle with the good doctor. When i brought him up, i saw her eyes widen with a flash of anger. (Seeing her react like that was actually quite comforting, her care for me and protectiveness was displayed on her face with recalling disdainfully someone who had hurt me so badly.) i explained to her the new crop of struggles i was having. We looked at the growth between then and now, and acknowledged the gift. We talked about dealing with the hard shit, how i was handling it in the best way - naming it, asking for help, feeling it, carrying on with other daily duties. i was not falling apart, and i was saying no to the things that would make me do so.
i talked through the difficulty of holding the dichotomy of resent the doctor and essentially owing him my life. It's been the most arduous piece to this process. And the conversation about it brought forth the best nugget of wisdom i could've asked for. It went like this:
Yes, there is discomfort in dichotomies. But health is acknowledging the duality, holding it up to the light, not running from it.
Before, my life was filled with conflicts and opposites and feelings and i was so overwhelmed that i just denied it all. i buried myself under a huge mess.
i'm miles away from that now. And so our talk didn't spend much time on the subject of the trauma, rather we focused on my state of being - my perseverance, the talents i have, the gifts i have to give and ways in which i can give them. That's what my healing has been about - identifying my strengths and drawing on them in real ways to measure and feel productive and build my self esteem and inner image.
She reminded me of my favorite quote.
i've been playing small. i have yet to accept that i'm an adult. It feels uncomfortable to call myself an adult or a woman. i still fall back on being a child, girl, or "young lady." Even when i became a youth group leader, i could not own it. Although, the implications of continuing to avoid my reality. i must be a smart, healthy role model for the kids i am leading. And for myself.
Judy called my awareness with these words. "You are becoming the woman God intends you to be, planned you to be even before you came into existence. And you are finally valuing who you are and who you are becoming. No longer anesthetizing, or giving yourself away for cheap. You're owning your worth and living into your potential. It is fabulous and you are fabulous. Keep up the good work."
And so we realized that this whole process is my Christmas gift to myself. Emotional liberation and freedom. This darkness from my past is no longer can no longer darken my present, i can focus on the light of the moment.
Friday, December 19, 2014
Raw Reflection.
i had an affair with my psychiatrist when i was seventeen. It was intense and explosive and exhilarating. Being with him felt like perfection. He was sweet and gentle, he understood me. i felt powerful and important to have something in me that made this man risk the life he knew - wife, kids, career - just to be with me. When i was with him, all my incessant anxiety fell to the wayside. Our intimacy was entrancing. i loved him.
But, of course, it was unhealthy. And it ended horribly. i fell off the deep end. i thought he'd join join me for the spiral downward. He shocked me when he met me with criticism, blame, and a police intervention. i was devastated.
It took months to really have all the events sink in and register. Then another few months went by agonizing over him. But eventually, it passed. i remember the moment i realized a whole day carried on and i just focused on my life and my little tasks and i hadn't thought about him. Time went on and i made strides in my healing.
Now four years later i think i've done pretty well with myself. For having been obsessed with him, i barely think of him. About as much as any other painful memory.
But recently, a whole new, deeper layer is churning itself up. The pain is real and fresh, i feel vulnerable and fragile.
i stumbled across an old voicemail message from him. Yes, saved from 5 years ago. At first i saved it because it was cute and made me feel special. Then i continued to save it in case it would be of use while i reported him. Then it just stayed in my voicemailbox because i was avoiding it. i couldn't stand to hear his voice. The sound made my heart drop to my ass, and my eyes glaze over, and i'd need a minute to come back to reality.
Last week i decided it was time to get rid of it. i knew it'd be very difficult. i asked my therapist for help and we planned to do it in our next session. It was then that i had listened to the message in its entirety for the first time in years. i completely froze. She and i talked about its meaning - then and now. How it's detrimental to me now, but my hesitation to let go of it....
i had her sit next to me, we had to use her phone to get into my voicemail since my phone had died while we were talking. The message came back on and right when i heard his voice, i froze again - but this time with more dread. i asked her to press 7. Delete it. She insisted that i do it. But i shouted at her to just do it, and began to curl in on myself. She pressed 7, and hung up the phone. i heard her take a deep breath, call me brave, and tell me she was proud of me. But i could feel myself dissociating - hands wrapped on the back of my neck, face buried in my elbows, breathing getting irregular. i should have asked her for help re-grounding. But i didn't. Perhaps i was scared of her reaction, and i was just too overwhelmed by my old feelings, they had seized me. i began to hyperventilate. i faintly heard her protest, try to get me back, but i slipped into a dissociative episode. i stayed there for 15 minutes (it stayed neatly contained by the 45 and top-of-the-hour markers) and i came to exhausted and frazzled. We processed everything that had occurred. i had no clue he still had that hold over me.
My therapist connected my trauma with the psychiatrist to my trauma with my parents - how he not only was a friend and a lover, but a provider, comforter, mentor, protector. i never connected the two, and although i had initially scoffed at the notion, a couple moments of pondering it allowed it to make sense.
i hadn't received much tenderness from my parents, and as a child of divorce i was in need of extra. To protect myself, as a kid, i normalized what was happening in my life. i told myself it doesn't hurt because it just makes sense for it to be like this. The wound was covered. It festered for years. It was soothed occasionally by a vice-of-the-moment. The good doctor became one of them. The vices all became life-threatening issues. So much of my time was dedicated to basic stabilization. i wasn't able to reach down as deep as i needed to into my core to address this wound.
Until now. It's safe to delve into all this and really heal. And i'm feeling it all acutely. i've been fuzzy, dissociative, irritable, weepy, but i'm working through it. When i find myself getting caught up in feelings about the doctor... Well that's an issue in itself. i feel guilty for still having feelings about him. Like, there are a lot. i'll hate him, despise him, then miss him, and remember how, frankly, having him there for me kept me from killing myself many times. But he's such a sick bastard and abused his power and victimized a young fragile girl seeking his professional guidance and care, but... And i can barely stomach swinging between the extremes.
While there is legitimate trauma with him, it also mirrors another trauma. One i have yet to really deal with. My parents divorced when i was 3 and it caused a divide in me from the beginning of my life, make me feel like i was never whole. How could a toddler possibly deal with it? Just carry on. Don't pay it no mind. i did a rapid adapt.
It's finally coming to the surface after all these years.
The betrayal i feel from when the doctor just dropped and abandoned me is amplified by the unresolved pain of my dad's betrayal, leaving me and then staying distant. A semi-present father. When i miss the doctor, it's kind of like grieving my mom, so zombified by pain pills, and frenzied by OCD. i miss the connection and the tenderness. And with the whole lot of them, i never got the care i needed. i feel like a lost scared little girl, so sure there's something defective in her, sure she is worthless, and expecting to get hurt again soon.
It's a new struggle, and i'm keeping my support system close. i'm trying hard to go about my days as i usually do. i'm trying to stay focused on gratitude and hope. It's what got me through the previous years of hell, there's no reason why it shouldn't now.
But, of course, it was unhealthy. And it ended horribly. i fell off the deep end. i thought he'd join join me for the spiral downward. He shocked me when he met me with criticism, blame, and a police intervention. i was devastated.
It took months to really have all the events sink in and register. Then another few months went by agonizing over him. But eventually, it passed. i remember the moment i realized a whole day carried on and i just focused on my life and my little tasks and i hadn't thought about him. Time went on and i made strides in my healing.
Now four years later i think i've done pretty well with myself. For having been obsessed with him, i barely think of him. About as much as any other painful memory.
But recently, a whole new, deeper layer is churning itself up. The pain is real and fresh, i feel vulnerable and fragile.
i stumbled across an old voicemail message from him. Yes, saved from 5 years ago. At first i saved it because it was cute and made me feel special. Then i continued to save it in case it would be of use while i reported him. Then it just stayed in my voicemailbox because i was avoiding it. i couldn't stand to hear his voice. The sound made my heart drop to my ass, and my eyes glaze over, and i'd need a minute to come back to reality.
Last week i decided it was time to get rid of it. i knew it'd be very difficult. i asked my therapist for help and we planned to do it in our next session. It was then that i had listened to the message in its entirety for the first time in years. i completely froze. She and i talked about its meaning - then and now. How it's detrimental to me now, but my hesitation to let go of it....
i had her sit next to me, we had to use her phone to get into my voicemail since my phone had died while we were talking. The message came back on and right when i heard his voice, i froze again - but this time with more dread. i asked her to press 7. Delete it. She insisted that i do it. But i shouted at her to just do it, and began to curl in on myself. She pressed 7, and hung up the phone. i heard her take a deep breath, call me brave, and tell me she was proud of me. But i could feel myself dissociating - hands wrapped on the back of my neck, face buried in my elbows, breathing getting irregular. i should have asked her for help re-grounding. But i didn't. Perhaps i was scared of her reaction, and i was just too overwhelmed by my old feelings, they had seized me. i began to hyperventilate. i faintly heard her protest, try to get me back, but i slipped into a dissociative episode. i stayed there for 15 minutes (it stayed neatly contained by the 45 and top-of-the-hour markers) and i came to exhausted and frazzled. We processed everything that had occurred. i had no clue he still had that hold over me.
My therapist connected my trauma with the psychiatrist to my trauma with my parents - how he not only was a friend and a lover, but a provider, comforter, mentor, protector. i never connected the two, and although i had initially scoffed at the notion, a couple moments of pondering it allowed it to make sense.
i hadn't received much tenderness from my parents, and as a child of divorce i was in need of extra. To protect myself, as a kid, i normalized what was happening in my life. i told myself it doesn't hurt because it just makes sense for it to be like this. The wound was covered. It festered for years. It was soothed occasionally by a vice-of-the-moment. The good doctor became one of them. The vices all became life-threatening issues. So much of my time was dedicated to basic stabilization. i wasn't able to reach down as deep as i needed to into my core to address this wound.
Until now. It's safe to delve into all this and really heal. And i'm feeling it all acutely. i've been fuzzy, dissociative, irritable, weepy, but i'm working through it. When i find myself getting caught up in feelings about the doctor... Well that's an issue in itself. i feel guilty for still having feelings about him. Like, there are a lot. i'll hate him, despise him, then miss him, and remember how, frankly, having him there for me kept me from killing myself many times. But he's such a sick bastard and abused his power and victimized a young fragile girl seeking his professional guidance and care, but... And i can barely stomach swinging between the extremes.
While there is legitimate trauma with him, it also mirrors another trauma. One i have yet to really deal with. My parents divorced when i was 3 and it caused a divide in me from the beginning of my life, make me feel like i was never whole. How could a toddler possibly deal with it? Just carry on. Don't pay it no mind. i did a rapid adapt.
It's finally coming to the surface after all these years.
The betrayal i feel from when the doctor just dropped and abandoned me is amplified by the unresolved pain of my dad's betrayal, leaving me and then staying distant. A semi-present father. When i miss the doctor, it's kind of like grieving my mom, so zombified by pain pills, and frenzied by OCD. i miss the connection and the tenderness. And with the whole lot of them, i never got the care i needed. i feel like a lost scared little girl, so sure there's something defective in her, sure she is worthless, and expecting to get hurt again soon.
It's a new struggle, and i'm keeping my support system close. i'm trying hard to go about my days as i usually do. i'm trying to stay focused on gratitude and hope. It's what got me through the previous years of hell, there's no reason why it shouldn't now.
Unravelling
The October to March ride is a really tough one. Halloween marks the beginning of a dark time for me. Differing types of darknesses that layer upon each other. The rollercoaster intensifies for the next few months. i go through blinding agony, crippling anxiety, faltering hope, boiling anger, existential angst, sluggishness, confusion, but all, nevertheless, met with resilience. i make it through, and stronger for it too.
During halloween i am faced with family insanity. i mean i really do like the day. i love to dress up, i like spooky stuff, i dig the idea of the spirit world converging with that of human, i've got a helluva sweet tooth, i love celebrating with my baby sister. It can be really fun.
Where it comes apart is in our "adult" department.
It's become a tradition that trick or treating is a time to get smashed. Aunts, uncles, cousins gather in costume, preparing for the night. Big candy collecting bags, sweaters, sneakers, gloves, glow sticks. A stroller, rolling cooler, and purses filled with beer, vodka nips, and whiskey.
The kids carry on, far too caught up in halloween hype to notice the adults checking out, excitement is their babysitter for the night.
It makes me really sad. It wasn't always this way. My mom and aunt used to be really present to my brothercousin and me. But 8 years ago, priorities shifted, and they crumbled into the shitshow they are now.
Then comes Thanksgiving. This year was my first time trying to be everywhere with everyone, going from dad's house to mom's mom's house to boyfriend's parents and it was mostly just crazymaking with minimal enjoyability. i ended the day with regret and what-ifs and if-onlys and had to really work to pick out the silver linings from the tumultuous day.
Nights are here earlier. i've been diagnosed with Seasonal Affective Disorder. i miss the sunlight a lot.
The most wonderful time of the year? From March to mid December i tell myself i love Christmas. But halfway through December i'm burdened by expectation (put on me and what i put on others), hopes, doubts, discontent. A few years ago, i flat out absolutely hated holiday time. A mentor of mine advised me to list things i found, when i really dug around, that i liked that only holiday time could bring around, so that i didn't friggin kill myself through a particularly difficult year's journey and year's end. It softened me, and i ended up completely coming around, but i still feel smacked around by the stress and lofty wishes and lost meaning.
Then i'm tasked to have fun and stay optimistic and sober through the New Year celebration.
Meanwhile through all this, an old trauma is rearing its ugly head. Something i thought i put to rest a long time ago. But a new deeper layer is emerging and it's making me raw and vulnerable during an already existing terribly stressful time.
But my resilience has been proven, and piece by piece i see things falling into place, however minor it may be. i've become adept at grabbing at those silver linings through the turmoil. i know i'll make it through. It just really sucks to be in this place right now.
During halloween i am faced with family insanity. i mean i really do like the day. i love to dress up, i like spooky stuff, i dig the idea of the spirit world converging with that of human, i've got a helluva sweet tooth, i love celebrating with my baby sister. It can be really fun.
Where it comes apart is in our "adult" department.
It's become a tradition that trick or treating is a time to get smashed. Aunts, uncles, cousins gather in costume, preparing for the night. Big candy collecting bags, sweaters, sneakers, gloves, glow sticks. A stroller, rolling cooler, and purses filled with beer, vodka nips, and whiskey.
The kids carry on, far too caught up in halloween hype to notice the adults checking out, excitement is their babysitter for the night.
It makes me really sad. It wasn't always this way. My mom and aunt used to be really present to my brothercousin and me. But 8 years ago, priorities shifted, and they crumbled into the shitshow they are now.
Then comes Thanksgiving. This year was my first time trying to be everywhere with everyone, going from dad's house to mom's mom's house to boyfriend's parents and it was mostly just crazymaking with minimal enjoyability. i ended the day with regret and what-ifs and if-onlys and had to really work to pick out the silver linings from the tumultuous day.
Nights are here earlier. i've been diagnosed with Seasonal Affective Disorder. i miss the sunlight a lot.
The most wonderful time of the year? From March to mid December i tell myself i love Christmas. But halfway through December i'm burdened by expectation (put on me and what i put on others), hopes, doubts, discontent. A few years ago, i flat out absolutely hated holiday time. A mentor of mine advised me to list things i found, when i really dug around, that i liked that only holiday time could bring around, so that i didn't friggin kill myself through a particularly difficult year's journey and year's end. It softened me, and i ended up completely coming around, but i still feel smacked around by the stress and lofty wishes and lost meaning.
Then i'm tasked to have fun and stay optimistic and sober through the New Year celebration.
Meanwhile through all this, an old trauma is rearing its ugly head. Something i thought i put to rest a long time ago. But a new deeper layer is emerging and it's making me raw and vulnerable during an already existing terribly stressful time.
But my resilience has been proven, and piece by piece i see things falling into place, however minor it may be. i've become adept at grabbing at those silver linings through the turmoil. i know i'll make it through. It just really sucks to be in this place right now.
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