Tag: pain

  • Wants to see.

    My mother leaves a message on my daughter’s cell phone, wanting a recent picture of me, asking her for 4 or 5 of them. What??? Saying on the message, “she is still my daughter and I love her,” like that gives her all rights.

    What about mine, my daughters? And further more, why is she involving her granddaughter in this estrangement, making her feel like she has to pick which one to please, meaning she has to disappoint the other?

    She is okay dragging my daughter into the middle of our broken relationship, asking for a piece of me…asking an innocent bystander.

    I do not have access to her directly nor do I want to open up a line. Instead I want to close the line of communication that she feels she now has, my children.

    I will have to contact a sister whose house she is living in…and pass on that this is simply not acceptable, not now or ever.

    My home line has not changed in 15 years, she is aware of the number and can call. If she truly wants a slice of me, she will have to ask me to my face.

    The overall audacity and ignorance should not surprise me anymore, yet it does.

    Thank god she loves me… Not.

    If she truly loved and seen me, she would honor our silence, leave me alone to heal and be, letting my distance be as it is, and not try to come in through the back door stealing a ‘recent picture’.

    There is no recent me in her life.

    There is no recent her in mine.

    There is no us.

    She just refuses to let me die, to let me go, it feels like abuse all over again, this time with my daughter passing on the message and getting dirty in the middle.

    Oh the picture I would send…It is not a pretty picture.

    Will my picture capture the agony and pain, does it show the torn up insides where the wound is healing nicely, now.

    What is it she wants a picture of?

    The absence of any recent pictures slams this home.

    It shatters the idyllic fantasy she carries of us.

    A picture is worth 1000 words and so is the absence of one in this case…

    I do not feel she has earned the right to own a recent picture of me.

    She doesn’t see the whole picture of me, just what she wants to see.

  • Thank you.

    As I sit here on Thanksgiving morning, I look back at this year and find so many moments of gratitude, it seems I had a year full.

    My moments of gratitude are interrupted with moments of sheer pain, frustration, sorrow, confusion and tangled thoughts; it is only when I truly see the whole picture that I am overwhelmed with gratitude, knowing I was spared.

    Spared a lifetime stuck in that thought pattern, or held prisoner by that belief, to be forever at the mercy of another, while never seeing me.

    It isn’t so much that they didn’t see me, but I didn’t see me.

    Seeing and feeling me, learning how to respond that is respectful of me, what honors my soul, bringing forth a new version of me, one that is authentic and uniquely me, one that brings me to life.

    Gratitude of such magnitude, there isn’t a word that adequately expresses this freedom; it is like breathing or not breathing, love or fear, living or being dead in your life.

    To not be dead in my life is beyond what words can hold, to be alive in each moment, aware that I am connected to the Universe, that there are no mistakes, just opportunities to expand further and further, that even the darkest of the darkest moments are bringing me back to myself.

    The Universe only wants the grandest version of me; it doesn’t want a replica of someone else’s dreams.

    This past year I have been shown all the places I was still stuck, lost in the dark, and each time I become aware, I bring peace in to me.

    In peace I am overwhelmed in gratitude.

    I am thankful on this Thanksgiving Day for all the moments of pain, the untangled thoughts, the dark stuck places, and sorrow of what isn’t, for they all came bearing gifts.

    They all delivered a part of me that wasn’t free.

    Hell doesn’t seem like hell when it comes bearing gifts.

    I am grateful for my pain and for my suffering, for it was grieving the loss of me.

    It was telling me where I wasn’t present.

    In the darkness I mourned the loss of me.

    It was in the dark that I found me.

    On this Thanksgiving day, I thank you.

  • A Willing Witness

    “…grateful for your willingness to witness our loss” is part of a sentence I read on Facebook tonight, which struck me as odd that there are two kinds of witnesses.

     

    I never thought that there could be willing witnesses and non-willing witnesses.

     

    Yet the two drastically different witnesses are exactly what I have experienced. 

     

    One is so courageous and brave, will stand by and allow you to express the darkest of fears, the emptiest of sorrows, will listen endlessly as the truth flows and the madness is wrung from your soul and not shudder and turn away.

     

    A willing witness treads into the deepest trauma’s the most anxious anxieties, and wades through sorrows crushing blows, and still is able to remain connected, eyes, ears and soul.

     

    A willing witness never turns away. 

     

    It is this courageous witness that allows us to stand taller, dig deeper and find a small thread to continue on.  They remind us we are not alone.  That our mental state is ‘normal’ coming from whence we came.

     

    I am blessed and forever grateful for my brother who has been my most willing of willing witnesses.

     

    I also have had willing witnesses that are friends, strangers, writers, renewed old friends and new friends. Ladies whose walk equals mine or are even much worse. I am filled with great warmth and loving energy knowing that I have so many wonderfully willing witnesses.

     

    The greatest gift we can give another is to be a willing witness.

  • What I Mirrored.

    Continuing on from “Codependent No More” by Melody Beatte, she writes.

     

    “Gradually, I began to climb out of my black abyss.  Along the way, I developed a passionate interest in the subject of codependency.  As a counselor (although I no longer worked full-time in that field, I still considered myself one) and as a writer, my curiosity was provoked. As a “flaming, careening codependent” (a phrase borrowed from an Al-Anon member) who needed help, I also had a personal stake in the subject. What happens to people like me?  How does this happen?  Why?  Most important, what do codependents need to do to feel better?  And stay that way?

     

    I talked to counselors, therapists, and codependents.  I read the few available books on the subject and related topics. I reread the basic – the therapy books that have stood the test of time- looking for ideas that applied.  I went to Al-Anon meetings, a self-help group based on the Twelve Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous but geared toward the person who has been affected by another person’s drinking.

     

    Eventually, I found what I was seeking.  I began to see, understand and change.  My life started working again. Soon, I was conducting another group for codependents at another Minneapolis treatment center. But this time, I had a vague notion of what I was doing.

     

    I still found codependents hostile, controlling, manipulative, indirect, and all the things that I had found them before.  I still saw all the peculiar twists of personality I previously saw.  But, I saw deeper.

     

    I saw people who were hostile; that had felt so much hurt that hostility was their only defense against being crushed again.  They were that angry because anyone who had tolerated what they had would be that angry.

     

    They were controlling because everything around and inside them was out of control. Always, the dam of their lives and the lives threatened to burst and spew harmful consequence on everyone. And nobody but them seemed to notice or care.

     

    I saw people who manipulated because manipulation appeared to be the only way to get anything done.  I worked with people who were indirect because the systems they lived in seemed incapable of tolerating honesty.

     

    I worked with people who thought they were going crazy because they had believed so many lies they didn’t know what reality was.

    I saw people who had gotten so absorbed in other people’s problems they didn’t have time to identify or solve their own.  These were people who had cared so deeply, and often destructively about other people that they had forgotten how to care about themselves. The codependents felt responsible for so much because the people around them felt responsible for so little; they were just picking up the slack.

     

    I saw hurting, confused people who needed comfort, understanding, and information.  I saw victims of alcoholism who didn’t drink but were nonetheless victimized by alcohol.  I saw victims struggling desperately to gain some kind of power over their perpetrators.  They learned from me, and I learned from them.

     

    Soon, I began to subscribe to some new beliefs about codependents. Codependents aren’t crazier or sicker than alcoholics.  But they hurt as much or more. They haven’t cornered the market on agony, but have gone through their pain without the anesthetizing effects of alcohol or other drugs, or the other high states achieved by people with compulsive disorders. And the pain that comes from loving someone who’s in trouble can be profound.

     

    “The chemically dependent partner numbs the feelings and the non-abuser is doubled over in pain – relieved only by anger and occasional fantasies,” wrote Janet Geringer Woititz in an article from the book Co-Dependency, An Emerging Issue.

     

    Codependents are that way sober because they went through what they did sober.

     

    No wonder codependents are so crazy. Who wouldn’t be, after living with the people they’ve lived with?

     

    It’s been difficult for codependents to get the information and practical help they need and deserve. It’s tough enough to convince alcoholics (or other disturbed people) to seek help.  It’s more difficult to convince codependents – those who by comparison look, but don’t feel, normal – that they have problems.

     

    Codependents suffered in the backdrop of the sick person.  If they recovered, they did that in the background too.  Until recently, many counselors (like me) didn’t know what to do to help them.  Some times the codependents were blamed; sometimes they were ignored; sometimes they were expected to magically shape up ( an archaic attitude that has not worked with alcoholics and doesn’t help codependents either.)  Rarely were codependents treated as individuals who needed help to get better. Rarely were they given a personalized recovery program for their problems and their pain.  Yet, by its nature, alcoholism and other compulsive disorders turn everyone affected by the illness into victims- people who need help even if they are not drinking, using other drugs, gambling, overeating, or overdoing a compulsion.”

                    Melody Beatte

     

    What I love is that she sees how the codependents were formed…and in my experience it matches to what I know to be true for me.

     

    I love how she says we suffered sober…for indeed we did…My perpetrator wasn’t an alcoholic, but a sexual predator, yet the outcome is still the same.

     

    My mother’s codependency of my father is what I mirrored.

     

  • Testimonial for Bikram Yoga Dallas

    Karen calls me her Remote Student, because I live hundreds of miles from a Bikram yoga studio, and without stepping into a Studio, I have completed the 60-day Bikram challenge.

     

    My remote studio is my basement.

     

    There isn’t a set class time, no teacher to monitor my comings and goings, no one making sure my room is heated, I am all things in my home studio.

     

    The hardest part is keeping my word to myself, making sure I get out of bed to stoke the fire, moving around while the rest of the family sleeps, stealing the first section of the day for Bikram and myself.

     

    I stand alone in the mirror, just my body and me; no one is there to see my humble renditions of each pose, as I struggle valiantly to hold my balance, and fail, only to try yet again.

     

    In silence my amazement rings out when I am successful and some times tears in moments of sorrow or tears of gratitude that my body still responds.  In this quiet time, I am forming a new relationship with my body, my mind and Soul.

     

    How exciting it was to feel for the first time muscles I didn’t even know existed, and to feel the steadiness grow in my balance, to witness the affects of releasing unexpressed emotions that seemed to pour out of screaming joints. 

     

    Each day there is a morsel of difference in a pose, a snippet of improvement, a bit of hope and the thrilling feeling that I am doing it.

     

    I am leading the charge.

     

    I am bringing my body to the yoga mat, and following Bikram and my body is responding in spades!

     

    The 60 days have given me a great foundation, a second chance at a relationship with my body, a way to be kinder and more aware of what it really needs to be at its optimum health.

     

    In all areas of my life these improvements follow me, for I am the common denominator in each thing I do.

     

    Being a ‘remote student’ isn’t for everyone, but it is for those of us who do not have access to a studio.

     

    When I was inspired to do the challenge, I mentioned it to a few people, and soon we had a yoga buddy email list.  It is those inspiring individuals on the list that is my source of motivation and inspiration, when my own fails.

     

    What I want you most to know is that 60-days of yoga will change your life, and there is no excuse for not doing the yoga, all you have to do is get to a mat, a teacher or a Bikram CD, and begin!

     

     

    (My brother introduced me to Bikram yoga in 2001, when my arm hung useless.  In doing three weeks of Bikram yoga, the neck and shoulder muscles unknotted and I had zero pain.  I then began an on and off again practice.  When pain arrived, I knew where to go, to Bikram yoga.  I am happy to have the time/space and energy now to devote myself to working this into my every day life. At 51, this body was showing signs of neglect.  In the 60 days of doing the challenge, all aches and pains have disappeared, I am not stopping now, I have just begun!)

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

  • A Hoarder of Pain and Discomfort!

    “When we accept all of life’s contradictions, when we can comfortably flow between the banks of pleasure and pain, experiencing them both while getting stuck in neither, then we are free.”   Deepak Chopra

     

    Below is from “The Presence Process” by Michael Brown.

     

    From the moment we enter this world, we are taught by example of others to fear and therefore resist pain and discomfort by controlling it, sedating it, distracting ourselves from it, numbing it, drugging it, and even going so far as cutting it out.  By the examples of others, we are led to believe that pain and discomfort are our enemies and that when they manifest in our experience, we must escape or conquer them at all costs.  We are led to assume that pain and discomfort are always indicators that something is wrong.  In this world, it is very rare that we are invited or encouraged to respond to our experience of pain and discomfort by listening to them instead of running from them.

     

    During The Presence Process we are being asked to consider the possibility that the experience of pain and discomfort is deliberate and therefore on purpose.  In other words, when these experiences occur to us, it is because they are supposed to happen.  We are asked to open our mind to the idea that pain and discomfort are essential forms of communication that have necessary and valuable function in our life experience.  We are being invited to change our perception of what pain and discomfort are and what the nature of our relationship is with them.

     

    We are being invited to consider that pain and discomfort are our friends, not our enemies, and that they have come to assist us, not hurt us.

     

    Consider what the experience of pain and discomfort automatically accomplishes. It always obediently brings the focus of our attention to a specific place in our physical, mental or emotional experience. Why? 

     

    Consider how we impulsively react to this experience.  Metaphorically we run in the opposite direction by pulling our attention away from area that is experiencing pain and discomfort.  We do our best to annihilate our awareness of this experience with tablets, alcohol, or various medical procedures.  In other words, we automatically attempt to resist and suppress the experience through control and sedation.  What are we assuming?

     

    Our reactive behavior never resolves the pain and discomfort; it merely suppresses and postpones it for a time.  Inevitably, the pain or discomfort will reappear at a later date and continue its attempt to gain attention or show up in another form elsewhere.  Consider this possibility:

     

    The most painful thing about pain and discomfort may well be our resistance to it.

     

    During The Presence Process, our suppressed memories are going to be surfacing deliberately so that they can be integrated by our compassionate attention.  Pain and discomfort in the body, mind, and heart are our physical, mental or emotional bodies calling for our attention so that we will attend to them.  Yet our impulse is always to run away from these experiences or find someone else to attend to them.  What we are now being asked to consider is this:  maybe our lack of success in resolving our pain and discomfort in the past is because it is not possible for someone else’s attention to integrate our experience on our behalf.  What we are being invited to consider is that because it is our physical, mental or emotional body that is in a state of imbalance, that it is therefore our attention and only our attention that can really restore balance to our experience.

     

    All of our prophets, spiritual masters, and sacred texts tell us that the omnipresence that we have named God resides within all of us.  If we can on some level begin to accept this, even initially only as a concept, then we can also begin to accept another possibility – that in our life experience, our direct link to the intimate presence and unlimited healing power of what God is to us is to be found in the presence of our consciously wielded attention.  However, the possibilities contained in this realization remain mental gymnastics until we begin exploring them experientially. The only way we can know if this is true is to consciously and compassionately wield our attention with the intention of resolving our own states of physical, mental, and emotional imbalance.  In other words, our experience must become our own laboratory, our own testing ground.

     

    During The Presence Process, we are deliberately using the breath as a tool to bring our attention back into our physical, mental, and emotional bodies to temporarily anchor it there.  One of these consequences of this practice is that we become aware of pains and discomforts that have been with us since we were children, but that we have successfully suppressed from our awareness. 

              Michael Brown

     

    What I find so affirming to my experience is that all the pain and discomfort in my body and mind, as well as the volume of emotional pain were here to bring me messages. 

     

    Not just a simple message, but books of messages that I had discounted for 46 years, they all came running forth once they understood that I was willing to hear them.  It seemed they lined up for miles and months eagerly spilling forth what I failed to notice for so many years.

     

    Here to show me just how out of balance my life was. The further from reality you are, the greater the discomfort and pain and a longer line of unfelt and unexpressed emotions!

     

    Isn’t it amazing that they waited so long, crammed into my body, one discomfort piled upon another, heaped to the brim and overflowing, pain leaking out into various body parts screaming to me, I was busting at the seams! 

     

    A hoarder of pain and discomfort!