Facing what remains, waiting on green shoots
Dec 20, 2013 6:57:14 GMT -8
cristinab and RoseNadler like this
Post by FlowersForever on Dec 20, 2013 6:57:14 GMT -8
After many failed attempts at NC, I think I am finally committed this time. The temptations to break it are not overcoming me. I am thinking straight/clearly. Thoughts of my POA are not plaguing me. Thoughts that do come in... I find them an annoyance, like a gnat, and are easy to shoo away. It has sunk in that he is not for me, he is unhealthy, etc etc, you know the same old story.
I am past the withdrawal; had been on waves of that for several months. What I am left with is just myself now. And I am sitting with myself nearly all the time; LovelyJune was right, there is no void inside me. That which I labeled an emptiness or void... it is just me, it is part of me.
I am doing a pretty good job of going through the motions of getting up, going to work, coming home, eating, exercising, doing my volunteer work, doing something good for myself via hobbies, exercise, outings with friends, attending group, working the 12 steps, etc. By going through the motions, I am hoping some green shoots of hope and joy will appear and I might actually start to take some pleasure from some of this, any of it. I realize I am so new at this, and feigning happiness was my way of life for 40 years, so forging a new way to live is going to take time. I want to give it time. I am just hoping I can withstand the pain of being with myself in the interim. God knows I would love even a smidge of relief.
Just being with myself is such a disappointment. It ranges from a boring/sleepy feeling to pain/crying. But what am I crying about? I don't know. Inside I am miserable. I am struggling with the "why I am so miserable?" This is not a new question, I have been asking it since I was 13. I found an old book of poetry I wrote from age 13 to 30 and it is all love addiction, self-doubt, confusion, misery, and mask wearing. I am constantly uncovering how deep and vast my LA and unhealthiness goes.
All I can conclude is that I am miserable because I have been living a lie by being a LA all this time, and the pain/crying is just paying the price for it. I deferred my feelings for decades, now all the sadness is surfacing. It seems to demand recognition. When I am in pain and crying, I don't have any particular thoughts, just that I am very present in myself, and that present state equals misery.
My greatest struggle with being present with myself and not medicating in any way is that there is no longer a single safe haven in my mind, there is no where to run, no where to rest. At times, I get desperate and run from door to door in my mind, just like a horror movie, and all the doors are locked. Dreams of the future and fantasy was where my mind used to find refuge. Every place I turn in my mind now is a dead end, as I see that thoughts of a POA are unhealthy and that fantasy of any man/rescuer is unhealthy. I have been trying to use my imagination to make a garden in my mind where I can visit with my HP. No luck yet. My HP does not come to my mind; I go to Him but find no respite.
I have no visibility on where my hope or inspiration will come from. I realize it will have to come from within me; but since i have never experienced that, I don't know what it will look like. Until then, everything in my life is a chore, colorless, and joyless. I am not looking forward to a single thing. I am covered with a cold, wet, and heavy blanket of reality.
I am going to keep holding on, slowly but surely, it will either get better, or not. I am giving myself a goal of my birthday in April to feel better. Something will have to change sooner or later, I cannot live like this.
I am past the withdrawal; had been on waves of that for several months. What I am left with is just myself now. And I am sitting with myself nearly all the time; LovelyJune was right, there is no void inside me. That which I labeled an emptiness or void... it is just me, it is part of me.
I am doing a pretty good job of going through the motions of getting up, going to work, coming home, eating, exercising, doing my volunteer work, doing something good for myself via hobbies, exercise, outings with friends, attending group, working the 12 steps, etc. By going through the motions, I am hoping some green shoots of hope and joy will appear and I might actually start to take some pleasure from some of this, any of it. I realize I am so new at this, and feigning happiness was my way of life for 40 years, so forging a new way to live is going to take time. I want to give it time. I am just hoping I can withstand the pain of being with myself in the interim. God knows I would love even a smidge of relief.
Just being with myself is such a disappointment. It ranges from a boring/sleepy feeling to pain/crying. But what am I crying about? I don't know. Inside I am miserable. I am struggling with the "why I am so miserable?" This is not a new question, I have been asking it since I was 13. I found an old book of poetry I wrote from age 13 to 30 and it is all love addiction, self-doubt, confusion, misery, and mask wearing. I am constantly uncovering how deep and vast my LA and unhealthiness goes.
All I can conclude is that I am miserable because I have been living a lie by being a LA all this time, and the pain/crying is just paying the price for it. I deferred my feelings for decades, now all the sadness is surfacing. It seems to demand recognition. When I am in pain and crying, I don't have any particular thoughts, just that I am very present in myself, and that present state equals misery.
My greatest struggle with being present with myself and not medicating in any way is that there is no longer a single safe haven in my mind, there is no where to run, no where to rest. At times, I get desperate and run from door to door in my mind, just like a horror movie, and all the doors are locked. Dreams of the future and fantasy was where my mind used to find refuge. Every place I turn in my mind now is a dead end, as I see that thoughts of a POA are unhealthy and that fantasy of any man/rescuer is unhealthy. I have been trying to use my imagination to make a garden in my mind where I can visit with my HP. No luck yet. My HP does not come to my mind; I go to Him but find no respite.
I have no visibility on where my hope or inspiration will come from. I realize it will have to come from within me; but since i have never experienced that, I don't know what it will look like. Until then, everything in my life is a chore, colorless, and joyless. I am not looking forward to a single thing. I am covered with a cold, wet, and heavy blanket of reality.
I am going to keep holding on, slowly but surely, it will either get better, or not. I am giving myself a goal of my birthday in April to feel better. Something will have to change sooner or later, I cannot live like this.
I was actually not talking about being or not being enough for myself, I was trying to state that descovering your talents/passions can be a huge boost in one's self-esteem and it would probably be way more difficult to actually get addicted to a person or to love itself. I think you can truly get to love yourself only if you appreciate and respect yourself and for that you have to be able to discover your own talents and skills. Also having certaing activities that you would enjoy and be good at would make it impossible to get bored when alone and would give you lots of motivation. Don't you think so ?