Another nest...

Over the years, I've come to realise that there may be advantages to revisiting old methods, giving them the once-over and opting to try something new. It's often difficult to leave one's comfy little nest - in this case my Blogger blog - after all, I'm warm and happy here but I'm still a little hesitant in recreating yet another nest. After all, it ain't broke, so why am I fixin' it....?

Well, for one, it keeps me on my toes - I have a leaning towards "mañana, baby..." at times - probably a throwback to my "marijuana, baby..." days and the soft option - to stay put and do nothing - often arrests my blogging development. And so... a shrug and a sigh and a flutter of the wings and I realise they weren't clipped at all. They were just relaxed...but poised. Much as I am myself these days.

And so... I'd like to welcome you into my new nest. It's a little rough around the edges and it's full of all the twigs and feathers from this one - I mean, I've just moved in and am still finding my way around - but I know I'll have it cosy in no time... but with much more room to expand and entertain my guests... with virtual cups of tea and dialogue - singing alone in my nest is fine and dandy but when I hear someone else's song, in response to my own, then it makes me want to sing all the more.... So... sing it loud, sing it clear and invite your friends along for a visit to my new Wordpress (eventually all-singin'-all-dancin') blog - and maybe even my website... and who knows... mañana might become a thing of the past.... Anything's possible!


http://positivefootsteps.wordpress.com/

Vanitas Vanitatum... Oh Vanity of Vanities...

I don't quite recall the context I first heard this phrase... I'm pretty sure it wasn't referring to the context it conjures up for me but I did manage to obliterate quite a few good brain cells whilst misusing myself, so can't quite recall. I do firmly believe that addiction is a misuse of self (we often describe it as a misuse of a substance/thing but surely our authentic selves weren't meant to be so badly treated?). My own precious cargo - my self - was mishandled. When they broke the proverbial mold, I reckon someone forgot to add the sticker... "Fragile... This Way Up... Handle With Care".. Certainly, I didn't realise it was there. Instead, I got a bit broken in places and arrived downside-up, I guess.... It's taken me years to try to 'right' myself (after capsize) to upside-down, my natural and authentic state of being.

And so to...Vanity is a rather strange thing which occurs in recovery. I'm using this word not in the sense of 'excessive pride in one's appearance' but merely as pride in one's appearance... and I'm using appearance to include external behaviours exhibited to others. I sometimes have a wry smile to myself when I revisit those paranoid thoughts about my hair not looking good, carrying too much weight, my clothes not being right... the 'What will they think of me?' thoughts... and then I remember... those less than halcien days (and nights) where staggering, unruly behaviour, and a general dishevellment prevailed... a distinct lack of pride in one's own appearance... a distinct lack of care... anger at the world... In fact, more a 'Who cares...!!' (how I look/what they think etc etc) with an appropriate gesture to match, no doubt. But.. what happened? Something switched in my head. Of course, this 'Who cares!' attitude revisits from time-to-time, even in sobriety, and some might argue it's healthy... but I know it's defensive. And when I'm defensive and judging others, I'm scared... simple as that...and I need to do some work. The answer eventually comes... 'I care!'

So... what price vanity? The feminist in me argues that I'm buying into the beauty propaganda (the Beauty Myth, as Naomi Wolf describes it). But the other part of me chooses to live in this society and adhere to some of its cultural norms and I buy into vanity. They reach a compromise - eyebrows plucked, hair dyed and, as I once inadvertently told a pathologist... "I'll be dyeing until I'm dead!" - and body modification is a work in progress, getting tangled up (as I frequently do) on the need to 'lose weight and shape up' treadmill... I tango on. But no FM shoes here, thanks.

Vanity... it damns me if I do... it damns me if I don't. I prefer to regard it as a benchmark... a sliding scale towards that downside-up way of being... If I don't tend to the basics of self-care... bathing, teeth, eyebrows, hair and checking-in with my mood, affirmations, gratitude etc... I know that I could so easily be transported forward to a time when it wouldn't matter to me how I looked on the outside, as private becomes public and the consequences of those crazy thoughts are on full view to all who care to glance pitifully or disdainfully in my general direction. And so, for me, vanity takes on a new meaning in recovery - but when it becomes obsessive, we're moving into narcissistic territory. I've never been 'in love' with my reflection, although it has become a rather good friend... at last.

A wry smile appears again with the self-knowledge that my version of vanity is based on 'as good as it gets'. I recall a hairdresser once taking pity on me when I told him I was inept at using hair technology... I received a phone call some time after the appointment, inviting me to a training session on 'straiteners for beginners'. It's a shame I was unable to attend. My life could have turned out so differently... but I seem to recall I was pretty busy that day... washing my hair. Ho-hum.

Song remains the same....

Many moons ago, I used to participate in what I now fondly think of as 'rubber ball' relationships. No matter how unhealthily a partner or friend behaved, I'd go bouncing back for more of the same. There was always this pervasive idea that 'things would be different this time'. I'd try harder... if only they wouldn't do.... if only I could find that 'off' switch that would miraculously disappear these overwhelming feelings... If only I could accept loss and rejection...

But there was the small child inside of me which hadn't accepted loss or rejection as a part of life - a part which was beyond her control and which wasn't her fault. This was the part that needed to be nurtured - not by a partner or by a friend - but by me. Consequently, the girl with the rubber ball bounced backward and forward, always hoping for the fairy-tale ending I've earlier described. The thing was... I had no idea that I was the one who was in control of my feelings... that I was the one who could meet my own needs...

It was not until I visited someone [what now seems a lifetime ago] whom, I believe, was a Sage... a wise person indeed.. who allowed me to realise that my feelings had become dependent on another's happiness - or otherwise. They'd ebbed and flowed, to'd and fro'd, and seemed as if they were beyond my control. The unasked question of my then-partner could have been: "How am I going to feel today?". This reminds me of an old psychologist's joke: As one behavioural psychologist said to another... 'It was great for you... How was it for me?' and that's how life is when one hands over the reins of one's life to another person... as long as it was great for you, it should automatically be great for me. Right? Hmm...

The Sage asked if I were in the process of 'trying again' - returning to an unhealthy relationship, hoping that things would be - yes, you guessed it - different this time. Of course, I was. I was asked to consider a book I'd read with an ending I didn't like much. If I were to reread the book, no matter how hard I tried or how much I hoped for a different set of events to unfold, would the story change? Nope. And neither would the ending. Having tested this theory on more than one occasion over many years, I know this to be a truism. It took me many painful years and much soul-searching to discover this. My default setting had to be changed. My behavioural patterns had to change. Changing horses in mid-stream isn't an easy task - but I was determined to hold the reins this time and now I feel happier, emotionally healthier and more fulfilled than at any other time of my life. Taking responsibility for our own feelings and needs is pretty tough for those of us who've had confused and confusing childhoods. Growing up emotionally can start at any age and the process of recovery and adjustment takes time...

As Marshall D Rosenberg et al so eloquently sum this up: "When we blame others, we give up the power to change ourselves." And so it must follow... When we take responsibility for our own needs and actions, we tap into the power we have within to change ourselves... and our true selves begin to emerge...at last!

Shame on me?

I've been writing about my recovery coach training today and was reminded of one of the ways in which it has deeply affected me. Over the course of the year, I gradually let go of the last remnants of shame which were attached to thoughts of my old way of life - living with an active addiction... or two. Shame seems almost inherent in the recovery process - and in the addictive cycle also. I'd like to be clear here. I'm not referring to situations where a person has been attacked or violated and shame has manifested as a consequence of this trauma.

I'm referring to the overwhelming feeling of shame which follows an excruciating realisation of inappropriate actions, behaviours, words and even feelings which can be enough to propel the individual back into the addictive not-so-merry-go-round and keep him/her there in Groundhog Day for months, if not years [or, indeed, decades], with feeble grasps at recovery here and there until, one day, the shame can be faced.. and the truth [and pain] exorcised and, if one is fortunate enough, accepted. I don't mean this in terms of external validation but rather self-acceptance.

Of course it's important to be accepted by those important to us but accepting our own faults and mistakes, taking the learning from these situations and using them to help us understand today's difficulties can help to set us free from the bonds of shame, self-loathing and misery which keep us in 'lower self' thinking and do not permit us the freedom to reach the loftier heights of healthy self-esteem, self-confidence, calmness and self-belief.

After all, as a great man once told me... 'That's why they put rubbers on the end of pencils... because we ALL make mistakes!". Shame on me? Not any more...

Breaking the spell....

Screamin' Jay Hawkins crooned: "I put a spell on you.. because you're mine!", "I'm gonna make you love me!" sang the Temptations... These songs and others could almost be the leitmotif of the Love Addict. Unlike many other addictions, love addiction is difficult to measure. How do we know if we're addicted to love or a person and not just 'in love'? The storybooks led us to believe that there was always a 'Happy Ever After' but is that really true? How many women in Western society have been conditioned to believe that that is a possibility? I know I'm one. I've spent years trying to 'fix' my relationships, often with co-addicts which adds another dimension entirely to a partnership, in the hope of reaching that happy [and let's face it, idealised] place.

Our own needs and values are often sidelined and seen as insignificant, when compared to the object of our affections. In order to get to a healthy place, we must undertake a great deal of soul-searching, taking responsibility for one's actions - and not blaming the other person - and it takes a great deal of digging down to the roots to find and nurture that healthy place within. Layers of dis-ease with oneself, looking for external validation and putting the needs of others before oneself take its toll on the individual, and consequently any relationship. When a partner is also addicted - either to a substance, action or is a fellow codependent - the digging down takes that much longer, as another layer has been added which can [and usually does] result in stunting our own personal growth.

So... how do we move forward from love addiction? LAA/SA offer a fantastic 12-step approach with regular meetings and, if a person's unsure as to whether or not they're a love addict, they have a definition guide and is a good place to start. Therapy is also a possibility, depending upon the severity of the addiction. Working with a coach, one-to-one, on creating a healthy life and way of relating to - and for - ourselves is also another possibility. This approach has worked for me - even coaches need coaching! So... discovering a healthy way of relating has been a long and arduous task and one which requires much self-awareness and vigilance but the pay-offs are tremendous. A better quality of life, diminished fear and anxiety, increased trust and, ultimately, joy. Maybe we could take another look at love and incorporate an aspect of healthy detachment, where we recognise the gifts the other person brings to the relationship, as well as our own, and we maintain our individuality and value our own needs, even within a relationship? Being kind and having compassion for ourselves is crucial to moving forward towards a healthier way of relating. With this in mind, how might you begin to be kind to yourself today?

Woe is Me....

Have been feeling a bit unwell for a few days now and, as a consequence, pretty sorry for myself. When I heard myself complaining about petty little issues, I realised I was listening to my 'lower self' speaking... that part of ourselves which finds fault at every turn, that life isn't fair, that it 'should' be like this, that or the other way... in fact, ANY way other than it is! Exhausting, isn't it? I turned to Mr Rosenberg's wonderful book on Nonviolent [Compassionate] Communication and made a conscious decision to go back to expressing my feelings in a much healthier way. If I'm unhappy about something, I fix it. If I'm unhappy with someone's behaviour [acknowledging that I have no control over that], I express that... in a healthy, caring way. Taking responsibility for our own behaviour is key to recovery and progress in any aspect of life. When we're in physical pain, our bodies are telling us there's something wrong... When we're in emotional pain, often just listening to our tone of voice and the content matter of what we're saying or thinking can tell us something's wrong! When we're not living in our core values, something will ALWAYS be wrong. I'm aware that, whenever I feel ill, this is a time when recovery must move back into the forefront, as much 'recycling' of old rubbish is done when we're feeling sorry for ourselves... and that can be a danger time for anyone in recovery. Fortunately, I keep up my daily positive affirmations which, for me, is equivalent to stock-piling for these emotionally rainy days. I feel very fortunate that today I can see the glimmer of sunlight... and gone are the 'poor me's.... phew!

Life imitating nature....

What a strange day, weather-wise, it's been today... warm, almost humid, then torrential rain and autumnal conditions... I've been torn between my favourite jumper and my waterproof mac for most of the day. It struck me, as I meandered around, how much life imitates nature in recovery... we can be up, riding along on a serene fluffy cloud of hope, aspiration and real achievement and then come crashing down into another microclimate of depression, angst, guilt and shame... thankfully, those days have become infrequent in my world but I am reminded, nonetheless, that my new improved coping mechanisms allow me to transcend my lower self and move away from wallowing in the doldrums for a day, week, month or more... I'm reminded of Tom Waits' fantastic 'Emotional Weather Forecast' now as I write this and his beautiful and painfully drawn lyrics on many albums about addiction and the roads it takes a person down. Needless to say, he's one of my favourite singer-songwriters... even - and maybe particularly - in sobriety! A reminder that a cold front, followed by much precipitation, always looms large when one neglects - or even forgets - one's recovery...