Seeds Planted in the "Rabbit Hole", Fertilizer, and Other $hit

2018 began deep inside the “Rabbit Hole”, blanketed beneath the familiar fog of bleakness. All things (behaviors) considered, I had survived the holiday season.

I was fully immersed in isolation. I still hadn’t found the drive to clean and organize my home; not specifically the dirty, gross messy, but there was stuff and things and paper and more STUFF everywhere. That vicious cycle was in motion; shame around the mess, which led to feelings of weakness and defeat, which circled back around to shame. I did only what was necessary; whatever was needed in terms of taking care of my daughter, but I easily cancelled my own appointments and plans, and certainly didn’t take care of myself.

The team did their best to bring me back around, but even they began to wonder if I needed more help. And so, I began hearing MCFD (Ministry of Children and Family Development) referenced as a possible, “helpful” option. Of course, that scared the shit out of me. I already had issues with authority, was working on healing from abuse (CONTROL), and the Mama Bear inside roared protectively. We had already been through so much, I could not and would not allow any kind of “intervention” like that into our life. I couldn’t do that to my girl.

Yet, I was relentless and reckless in my drinking.

February came around, and a few of the many seeds the team had planted began to germinate.

I soon began going to CAB again. Inside, I was ashamed, and was sure that I would be judged when I walked back through the door. Of course, my anxiety was irrational. There were a couple of familiar faces that were pleased to see me back, and I quickly realized/remembered that these were my people, and I was happy to see them too. We were in the same boat, different positions of course, but the empathy and understanding instantly put me at ease. It had taken about 5 months, but I felt close enough to comfortable with one of the girls that had initially started CAB shortly after me. We were both content in our isolation at that point, though we knew we would need to expand if we hoped to stay the path to health and happiness. We would need support. One day, I reluctantly asked if we might exchange numbers, specifically noting that I was not ready for meeting for coffee, having phone chats, or making a new friend. This would be a strictly texting relationship, with the purpose of supporting one another, “just in case”. We had both let out a HUGE sigh of relief upon noting this, for she felt the same way! LOL That was the first of many GIANT steps I began to take.

The seeds continued to germinate, but the conditions were still not quite right.

I was really enjoying the Smart Recovery tools that were being presented in CAB. It was so freeing and inspiring, to be part of open and honest conversation about all of “our shit”, and actually feel heard AND understood.

(My new friend seems to come up with THE BEST anecdotes in our groups. (perhaps I’ll call them Teeny’s Words of Wisdom!) What we call “our shit”, she suggests we consider “fertilizer” instead. Makes sense to me! Yeah, there was a lot of dirty, mucky stuff, but it helped me GROW!!)

There was also a lot of conversation about AADP (Adult Addictions Day Program). It was an outpatient program, that took place over 8 weeks, full days, teaching coping and (what I consider LIFE SKILLS) recovery information and tools. There was a ton of positive feedback about it, and I was seriously intrigued (it sounded similar to the pre-employment program I had completed the previous Fall, with an obvious different focus) by it. I was also very intimidated by it. As was with CAB, I was agonizing over the stigma, real or not, that I would face were I to take part. Besides, as I looked at my list of excuses, there was just no way it was an option for ME.

I had another appointment with a member of the team in which MCFD was brought up, and then another suggestion: REHAB/DETOX. Had I ever considered it? No! No I had not! I didn’t need REHAB or DETOX. That was for other people. THEM. Not someone like ME! I wasn’t THAT bad!

I left that appointment to attend CAB. My mind left twisting and twirling, I drove there completely awash in tears. I immediately located one of the group facilitators. She quickly reassured me that I was ok, and certainly didn’t appear, from what she knew of me, and what she was seeing in that moment, to be in need of Rehab or Detox. The sense was that it was more of a suggestion to aid in giving me that solid couple of days without alcohol in my system, as well as a safe place away from all triggers, with an intent to, hopefully, possibly, finally, gain some clarity.

It wasn’t long afterwards that I began to seriously consider signing up for the AADP. And then, I found my way to the required orientation, and placed myself on the wait list in March.

The feedback I received around me was, of course, over the moon positive and proud. I, however, was doing some tricky thinking in the background. One of the requirements of attending AADP is to be clean during the 8 weeks of the program. That little voice inside taunted me, telling me that no one would ever know what I did upon leaving group each day. With a laugh, I, finally, caught and corrected that thought. I would know. The joke, and the consequences, would only be on me. I announced that I would be easing off until I got the call, and then I would quit.

I carried on as usual.

Easter and Spring Break came, and my daughter went South (BC, not Mexico!!) with Grandma and Grandpa for vacation. I planned to use the time to myself, perhaps “wisely”. I requested space from my boyfriend during that time, to work on me. For the first time in my life, I spent time being closer than ever to myself.

The seeds were growing!

The day before I had to travel to pick my daughter up, I decided I was done. I decided that I didn't want to drink that night, and attempted to stop myself from making plans to drink while I was away. Although that was a major accomplishment of it’s own, I don’t think that I really took myself seriously.

A couple of days later, while I was away, a semi-estranged friend contacted me out of the blue. We had met during the extremely unstable time leading up to the end of my marriage. While we became close quickly, it was a very unhealthy and toxic friendship, so we eventually stopped seeing each other. We rarely socialized without alcohol, and a LOT of it, and she was also doing a bit more than dabbling with various drugs.

When she announced that she was coming up on 6 months clean, I was blown away. In my state of judgmental and assuming beliefs about others, I had NEVER envisioned her as someone with the strength and courage to stop using. She genuinely sounded different. Good different. Positive for the first time since I’d known her. She was even encouraging as I told her that I was approaching the path to recovery myself. I was inspired, reassured, validated, and grateful beyond words after that conversation; though it took me a few months to thank her!

It was as though our conversation cemented everything I knew I NEEDED to do. I had finally given myself permission to do the healing I deserved and needed.

I started the Day Program about 2 weeks after that conversation, and finally crawled out of that damn rabbit hole.

Falling Down the Rabbit Hole

It was around this time last year that I fell into the “rabbit hole”.

From very early on, I had never taken the time to know myself, I didn't learn any of the skills and tools to handle anything that occurred in my life. I was like a zombie really, just moving mindlessly through my life. I expected things to be ok, to just work out, get better... Tomorrow. Tomorrow I'll be ok, this will all be over, I'll do better, I'll be better... Tomorrow.

I have spent my life living on the edge, moving from one crisis or trauma to the next. There didn't seem to be any respite, perhaps a glimmer of hope once in a blue moon, but it never lasted. Of course, without doing any of the work I needed to do, and without an ounce of self-care, self-love, or self-respect to support any type of healing, it never would. I just carried obliviously onward, continuously slipping into the rabbit hole, pulling myself a few inches out, until the next thing happened, when I'd slide back down to the bottom.

 

My world as I had known it began to seriously crumble shortly after moving 5 years ago. After 13 years, the abuse and violence in my marriage erupted, and I separated from my husband, and promptly fell headfirst, deep into that rabbit hole. The couple that took my daughter and I in for a few months after the explosive break up of my marriage became my best friends; we were a part of each other’s daily lives, despite the healthy and unhealthy dynamics of the relationship between the three of us was. Almost 2 years ago now, I witnessed the husband, my friend, someone very close to me, and my boss, have a massive heart attack, and subsequently pass on. After he passed, the house cleaning, deliveries, other odd jobs, and Administrative/Booking Assistant work that I had been doing with/for them for 3 years, came to a sudden end. The growing anxiety and realization of how unhealthy, co-dependent and toxic things were becoming in my life had begun shortly before he died, and afterwards I promptly fell apart. I had been tending to the needs of everyone close to me, taking their stuff on as my own, using it as an unhealthy distraction, and I had used up my resources. I was empty. I had nothing left for myself, let alone anyone else.  Panic and anxiety took over. I had a hard time leaving my house, breathing, I had severe chest and heart pains, I cried constantly, I couldn’t sleep, think, function…Out of fear and shame, I clung to the hope/”need” to continue home schooling my, then 8 year old, daughter. (Perhaps an attempt to retain some sense of (false) control?) My behaviours and thinking were completely distorted and irrational. I had no clarity. I was making horrible decisions while, of course, attempting to rationalize them. I was numbing the pain by drinking more and more, and at times of the day I never would have before. I was drowning.

A lifetime of abuse, violence, alcohol dependency, grief and loss, co-dependency, toxic relationships, taking on the role of the "victim", fucked up, irrational thinking, every other “major event” or ”defining moment” that I had ever experienced, buried, avoided, came bursting out, PTSD and GAD symptoms blew up… My entire life caught up to me. I was collapsing, falling apart, scared, and out of control.

As I have since been learning, I was stuck in the "Fight, Flight, or Freeze" state for nearly my entire life. My amygdala had been running the show, without a break, in overdrive, which was causing a whole slew of other things to occur in my mind and body.

...my story isn't over yet... ;)

Recovering My Writing - Healing Through Words

Hello again, or maybe for the first time!!

I've been under construction. Digging deep, and working on myself. Reading and meditation have been where the majority of my time has been spent. The only writing I was doing came in the form of worksheets, answering the questions in the books I was reading, exercises, homework...

I  have been wanting to write. I have been needing to write. Intending to write. Trying to write. Being "encouraged" (pestered!) to write by mom. There were few times I was able to get much out, and my attempt at using a journal just didn't stick. I wanted to get back here, to my blog, and share my stories. I wanted to use my writing, and this platform, to aid in my healing journey, and maybe to help or inspire your own. I attempted to establish a new writing routine. I thought about how to begin again here. I pondered where to begin my story. I just could not seem to bring myself to do it. Nothing came.


The majority of my focus has been on my healing and recovery, but I've also been working with a Job Coach on my Job Search path. I need to find work again, or go to school; something to generate a sustainable income AND feed my passions.

I told myself, despite the feedback around me, that the writing would have to wait, the blog would have to wait. I told myself there were more important things to be doing with my time. These thoughts still did nothing to get me moving, feel inspired or motivated.

The only thing I was really able to see was the work I needed to do on my healing and recovery.
(I am pretty certain most of us know what that tends to looks like...)

Photo

Until now.
I have spent a lot of time in recent weeks in Solitude. Not completely and totally, all alone by myself; I do have a 9 year old daughter, and life just doesn't allow that opportunity! Throughout my life, I have been afraid of solitude, and instead immersed myself in Isolation. This time has been different.

I have come to the point where all roads, messages and suggestions have come together, with flashing arrows pointing at a sign: FOLLOW YOUR PASSIONS.

The fire within is roaring, and my gifts are wanting to expand. Writing, photography, rocks/crystals, nature, inspiring others, these are the things screaming to be heard, seen, felt. I NEED to put some time and effort into expressing these parts of me.

I realize that my story is not over, and so, there really is no specific place to begin in the sharing of it.

I must begin where I currently sit.

I must begin here and now.