From the NA Just For Today Text, my reflection following
November 30 - Sharing The Real Me
"Sharing with others keeps us from feeling isolated and alone." Basic Text pg. 81
Intimacy is the sharing of our innermost thoughts and feelings with another human being. Many of us long for the warmth and companionship intimacy brings, but those things don't come without effort. In our addiction, we learned to guard ourselves from others lest they threaten our using. In recovery, we learn how to trust others. Intimacy requires us to lower our defenses. To feel the closeness intimacy brings, we must allow others to get close to us - the real us.If we are to share our innermost selves with others, we must first have an idea of what those innermost selves are truly like. We regularly examine our lives to find out who we really are, what we really want, and how we really feel. Then, based on our regular inventories of ourselves, we must be as completely and consistently honest with our friends as we can be.Intimacy is a part of life, and therefore a part of living clean - and intimacy, like everything in recovery, has its price. The painstaking self-scrutiny intimacy calls for can be hard work. And the total honesty of intimacy often brings its own complications. But the freedom from isolation and loneliness that intimacy brings is well worth the effort.
Just for today: I seek the freedom from isolation and loneliness that intimacy brings. Today, I will get to know "the real me" by taking a personal inventory, and I will practice being completely honest with another person.
pg. 348
Being totally honest with others is a new concept for me, which is why I decided to challenge myself by being totally open in my writings online. I think it's helped me to become a healthier person, mentally and spiritually. I certainly feel better over the past few days, I've noticed. And even though I'm only on Step One, "working the steps" really helps. Getting to know "the real me" is a little scary, but it's a more hopeful and encouraging process than I anticipated.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Friday, November 18, 2011
Beginning of the End
Yesterday I blogged about my thwarted suicide attempt. You can read about it here. Today I thought I'd talk about something else- my dependence and addiction to the prescription drugs I've been taking for the myriad of ailments I have.
And again, I'm not looking for sympathy or pity- I just wanted to start sharing my experiences in hopes that someone who's having a similar tough time can relate and feel a little less alone knowing there's someone else out there that's gone through the same thing.
I expected recovery would be difficult and so far everything is meeting my expectations. I've been using prescription painkillers for awhile (the right way), but after I was in the hospital and things started to get worse again, I started to use them the wrong way.
What can I say? There's so much talk about using these kinds of pills the "right way" that it's almost impossible to NOT think about the "wrong way" when you're pushed up against a wall (mentally or physically) and things aren't going well for you. Before this, I had done well- I knew there were times were my body hurt like hell, and I overused my medication. I was paid back with feeling so lethargic and stupified that I could barely function and I fell asleep at the drop of a hat- certainly not safe for anyone, most of all my children. But abusing it to take the mental pain away- that was a recent thing.
It started around the time I was in the hospital in November. I was thinking about trying to kill myself again. I didn't have a plan yet, but as I remarked to the intake doctor, "I'm pretty resourceful, so it wouldn't take much to come up with one." When I got out, I still felt not great, and even though my family was monitoring my meds, I still found ways around it to get more pills. It didn't take long for me to admit to myself that I just had to be off of the pills for good, and during one blowout with my husband, I flushed them. I cannot explain the duality of the feelings I had at that time. I was happy, extremely happy, on one side to be getting rid of them, on the other, a huge voice in my head was screaming at me, "What the FUCK are you doing???? That's GOOD SHIT, man!"
Since then (and it wasn't that long ago- less than a week) I've been in withdrawal, which is no fun but I feel like I can see a light at the end of the tunnel. Maybe someday a life that's happy, pain-free or at least less, and unmedicated. We'll see. Stay tuned.
And again, I'm not looking for sympathy or pity- I just wanted to start sharing my experiences in hopes that someone who's having a similar tough time can relate and feel a little less alone knowing there's someone else out there that's gone through the same thing.
I expected recovery would be difficult and so far everything is meeting my expectations. I've been using prescription painkillers for awhile (the right way), but after I was in the hospital and things started to get worse again, I started to use them the wrong way.
What can I say? There's so much talk about using these kinds of pills the "right way" that it's almost impossible to NOT think about the "wrong way" when you're pushed up against a wall (mentally or physically) and things aren't going well for you. Before this, I had done well- I knew there were times were my body hurt like hell, and I overused my medication. I was paid back with feeling so lethargic and stupified that I could barely function and I fell asleep at the drop of a hat- certainly not safe for anyone, most of all my children. But abusing it to take the mental pain away- that was a recent thing.
It started around the time I was in the hospital in November. I was thinking about trying to kill myself again. I didn't have a plan yet, but as I remarked to the intake doctor, "I'm pretty resourceful, so it wouldn't take much to come up with one." When I got out, I still felt not great, and even though my family was monitoring my meds, I still found ways around it to get more pills. It didn't take long for me to admit to myself that I just had to be off of the pills for good, and during one blowout with my husband, I flushed them. I cannot explain the duality of the feelings I had at that time. I was happy, extremely happy, on one side to be getting rid of them, on the other, a huge voice in my head was screaming at me, "What the FUCK are you doing???? That's GOOD SHIT, man!"
Since then (and it wasn't that long ago- less than a week) I've been in withdrawal, which is no fun but I feel like I can see a light at the end of the tunnel. Maybe someday a life that's happy, pain-free or at least less, and unmedicated. We'll see. Stay tuned.
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