Fantasy today. Distracted by the sound of high heels on wood floor, like a siren's call. Depressed today. Anxious today. Shame. When shame is there the addiction swoops in. Sometimes it's so subtle you don't even feel the shame, or the addiction coming to rescue you from it. You just feel the addiction. When you feel the addiction you know shame is at work. In order to counteract shame and craving I need to receive love somehow. I need to do a top line behavior. I need to go to a meeting, make a phone call. I need to read some poetry or listen to music, but oftentimes, when the craving has struck, it's too late, so you need to be able to hear the train coming far down the tracks, and prevent it from even coming up.
But sometimes that's not possible. The day before yesterday I woke up from this incredible dream where I saw in myself this ability to make quick and deep connections with people, which is an ability, a gift, really, that I've been afraid of, and even ashamed of. I also spent half the dream naked before I finally realized I was unclothed. I suddenly became embarrassed about my size and went to cover up, which to me meant that that fear is lurking somewhere, but also that the shame is melting away. I'm less afraid to be who I am. I took this as a sign that I would be having sex soon, and that maybe my ex would be texting me out of the blue saying she wanted to hook up. The world would know I was ready. It was like I'd reached some finish line, and this was my reward, and then the addiction took over. I spent all day in craving, longing, egotism, arrogance, thinking I didn't anyone because I was getting sex soon. And then at the end of the day it doesn't come and you feel confused, or you feel lonely and guilty because you spent the whole day telling yourself you didn't need anyone. Friends reach out to you and they're a burden because you don't have needs, and yet they're bothering you with theirs. And now you feel lonely and you feel like you can't reach out because of what you've been saying, and, in reaching out, you feel like you're using people. So you get depressed. You think there's nothing you can do and you feel stuck.
For me depression is a reaction to a situation. Rather than think there's something I can do, like forgive myself for the mindset I was in and text someone, give myself some love and acceptance for dealing with an incredibly difficult situation that in many respects is not my own, or not JUST my own, it's generational, instead of doing all that, and feeling confident, I consider myself a failure, and I roll over and die. I give up. There are many things in which I do persist, where my will is strong, but occasionally I roll over, and then I have to climb my way out.
I've been getting into a lot of self blame recently, and feeling depressed and anxious, and really it makes no sense. I know it's a reaction to a situation but I'm not sure which one. There are many. Maybe it doesn't make a difference, but for some reason I'm feeling like a failure, like something I'm doing, in some regard, isn't good enough. Bear with me while I explore this:
Here's an example of this, though. The font size on this document keeps changing, and I have to change it back to what I want. Sometimes the document will save and so the option to change the font disappears and interrupts the rhythm of my writing, and I get frustrated, rather than think I can do something about this, and take the time to figure it out, I get frustrated, tell myself I can't do anything, and a general feeling of oppression builds until, for me, it boils over in rage or I collapse in on myself. Usually the rage comes first.
And see I just figured out how to change it, so there is something I can do. And when I do I feel creative and powerful and proud of myself, so when I can't, or won't, something else is going on. These situations where I can't figure something out, or something goes wrong, or doesn't go the way I hoped, or expected it to, only prove the terrible things I think about myself already: prove that I'm a failure and that I'm worthless. They're a reflection of my self worth rather than...what...an opportunity, a simple occurrence, something fun, a challenge? Life flows from the window of what I think about myself, and determines my entire experience.
So what should I do in this situation? Maybe I should take a step back and simplify, do less, reach out more. John Bradshaw talks about "human doings" rather than "human beings," meaning, the solution for a shame based person is often to try to accomplish things to feel better, and that's been my solution my whole life, but as I'm seeing, it doesn't work. I accomplish something and the shame comes right back, so there's always something more to accomplish, it's never good enough and it becomes just like an addiction. I get frustrated with my progress too or lack of it. My expectations get out of whack and I get impatient because the things I do mean too much. They're not just something I'm doing because I'm passionate about them, they're outcome determines how I think and feel about myself. Impatience comes, too, because I need to be "successful" in order to feel good.
And so, when the addiction swoops in and I feel myself to be powerless, rather than embracing the spirit of step 1 and asking or help, I see myself as a failure. I get frustrated with myself that I can't "beat" the addiction (that doesn't work either, by the way), and with all this effort, I pretty soon start to believe that I can't do anything. I start to feel stuck, and depression comes in. When depression comes in anxiety isn't far behind, shame too, and the spiral begins. Luckily meditation has been very helpful for me in this regard. I can "see" these things happening, and return to the moment. For me, presence and love have lately come to mean the same thing, and if I can, I try to return to where love is, to something I'm interested in, to myself.
Another, more simple way to look at this mess is that perfectionism is here, and perfectionism is a common cure for shame, and since we know (maybe I don't) that you can't be perfect, that it's a dead end, I need to find another solution. I need to bring more love in, more people. I need to do my work because it makes me feel good and I love it, but I don't want that to be the only thing, and ultimately, after working my ass off this week, at the end of it, no matter how much I've gotten done or how well I think I've done it, if there's nobody there it's going to feel empty. Some balance needs to be struck where I feel like I can still get my work done and have a fulfilling life with others. I need better boundaries, I need the word "no," or I need to be creative in how I schedule and be more fluid, meaning, "I can't do something now, but how bout later?" Isolation cannot be my solution or my protection anymore, because it kills the things it's meant to protect.
I'll give you an example: In my addiction, I used to think people were an inconvenience, they got in the way of things I wanted to do. I had little time, and since I had my addiction I didn't need others, I needed time to work. I felt soulless and empty, but I had the addiction to manage it. Being in relationships with people means giving into a certain amount of chaos. Relationships and people are unpredictable, and sometimes they're inconvenient, but the hope is that what they lack in convenience they make for in feelings of love, acceptance, support, but for me in my addiction and in my trauma, ultimately, that hasn't been the case (and it's only recently starting to turn around). For me people have been a threat, and building relationships with them anxiety inducing to the point of impossible, so I've given up. But now that the addiction isn't here to save me I have to keep trying, I have to learn how to trust again. I have to open up and be vulnerable because otherwise my spirit will starve and I will die. I have come to accept that I cannot live without it (love), and have even begun to want it again. I want to be with others, the drive is there but the will is still sometimes weak. Maybe I can pray for help with that, for surrender. I can meditate because when I meditate I notice I do nice things for myself, I treat myself better, make better decisions. Returning to the breath, it seems, is, ultimately, a compassionate act. I can do my gratitude and positivity lists at the end of the night because I can feel how much they help me. They exist beyond accomplishment, and in them, I can congratulate myself when that's normally very difficult for me. I can go to the gym, take a walk, make a call, of course, go to a meeting but I need to share. I haven't been sharing because of the above mentioned perfectionism, which is ok. I can read, eat a good meal, treat myself to a night out or a movie, and ask someone to come with me. People are going to be very important for me in this part of my recovery. So all these things are here to help me feel better about myself, to show myself I'm worthy of love and the hope is that soon I'll start to believe it. The tricky thing is that the addiction comes in if I'm feeling down, or if I'm feeling good, so I have to be as vigilant as ever, as accepting as ever, as loving as ever, and if I can't remember how to do that then that's what the program is for: learning how to lean on others and a power greater than myself so I can live the kind of life I deserve to live - free from shame and addiction, and full of love, creativity and freedom.
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