This is the eighth article in this series about the recovery path, and it is about the second half of the path. This is after we have fully accessed our anger, and begun to grieve our losses and let go. This article may not necessarily be helpful to someone who is still reeling from betrayal and loss, or even someone who is still exploring righteous anger. However, it is part of this series because a growing number of people on LoveFraud are considering the influence of their histories on their relationships, as part of healing themselves and their lives. Please, take what is valuable to you, but if this one doesn’t make sense or, God forbid, makes you feel like you’re being blamed, it just means that you’re at another healing stage. Which is good. Every stage is necessary and good. Be where you are, love yourself and heal. That’s all that matters. — Kathy
In recovering from a trauma or extended trauma like a sociopathic relationship, we often discover that what we lost isn’t what we first thought it was. In fact, our very resistance to letting go — the thing that often keeps us stuck in anger or even bargaining or denial — isn’t exactly what we thought it was.
The traumatic recovery process, if we have the courage to see it through, turns out to be very different from the “he done me wrong” drama it first appeared to be. It’s not about unrequited love. It’s not about us not being good enough or smart enough. It’s really not about anything that is between us and our sociopathic opposite number.
It is really about us waking from a dream.
What is real?
An old friend talked to me recently about feeling so disoriented that she had difficulty finding her way out of her hometown airport. She was returning from her third trip to visit a man in another city. Based on phone conversations with him, she had become convinced that he loved her, wanted a future with her, and accepted her as she was. When she arrived, she discovered that what he wanted was “friends with benefits.” And by the way, would she please invest in his condo because he was having trouble making the payments?
As on the previous trips, he was cold, critical and exploitive, expecting her to pay for staying with him and pay for everything they did together. Knowing that he had less money than her, she did that willingly. She would have given the five-figure investment in the condo, except that her money was tied up in a trust. The one thing she could not do was casual sex, and she could not understand how or why he did not remember that this was a baseline truth with her. If she was in a sexual relationship, it had to be serious and committed. Of course, they had sex before his idea about “friends with benefits” became clear, leaving her feeling used and ashamed.
After the other trips, she had felt wounded and depressed. Half angry at him, half wondering what she had done wrong. This time was different. She finally understood that she had been deluded, and it didn’t matter if he had misled her or she had misled herself. She contacted me to ask me what to do about the feeling of disorientation. She didn’t know how she could have been so mistaken, and she didn’t know what was real anymore.
“I want my old self back,” she said. Then she thought a moment, and said. “No, I don’t. Not if it’s the old self that keeps doing this over and over.”
The broken part
My friend is not stupid, though she has a history of relationships with exploitive people. Listening to her talk about how ashamed she felt about the love letters she had written and her feeling that she was too stupid to live, I could almost see the broken cog in the machinery of her psyche.
With her, as with many of us, this broken part is not really about the exploitive people who take advantage of it. We feel like these relationships are “happening to” us. But what really happened is that a certain set of circumstances triggers something in us that I call a “state.” (Some psychologists call it a ”˜trance,” because it is a form of self-hypnosis. It may also be called a “fugue state,” after a type of music where a single melody line is repeated in many variations.)
A state is a reactive response with certain characteristics. One is a narrowing of focus. Everything else fades to lesser importance. Other, possibly unrelated experiences are interpreted through our intense involvement with this state and its triggers. The anger we have discussed in previous articles is a state. The disorientation of my friend and the distressed confusion of early-stage recovery are also states. Other characteristics of states may be reversion to childlike emotional behaviors — tantrums, outsized hunger for validation or security, confusing the feeling of relief with love.
Another characteristic of these states is often disassociation, or distancing ourselves from objective reality. “Inside” the state, we identify with it. It feels “right,” often passionately right, the truth about ourselves. A feedback loop can evolve. The state becomes magnified by our attention; so we pay more attention to it. If the state is painful, we may start looking for self-medication through alcohol, drugs, video games, shopping, work, etc. If the state provides pleasure, we may do more and more of what we think is creating the pleasure. As we pursue or avoid feelings, learning skills or living with the effects of our actions, the state’s structure evolves into more complexity.
So where do these states come from? Especially the painful ones. Anyone who has been reading this series of articles knows already. They are residue of unprocessed trauma. One of the simplest ways to grasp this is to ask, “When was the first time I ever felt this way?” We may not immediately remember the first time, but most of us can track the state backwards through events in our history.
My relationship with a sociopath was not the first time I’d felt completely subsumed by a romantic attachment. (It was just, unfortunately, the first time I’d done it with someone who felt no ethical responsibility toward me.) I realized, fairly early, that what was happening with him wasn’t “different,” but only a worst-case scenario of something I’d been doing my entire life.
Leaving Las Vegas
Few of us on LoveFraud would consider ourselves gambling addicts. But if we think about what gambling addicts really want, we might see a bit of ourselves in it. When a gambler is winning, the emotional payoff isn’t the money. It is the sense of basking in a kind of sunshine of divine acceptance, where s/he is magically doing everything right and being loved for it. The love may be expressed in financial winnings, but the thrill is that big, loving, supportive “yes” from the cosmos.
From the book “Leaving the Enchanted Forest: The Path from Relationship Addiction to Intimacy” by Stephanie Covington and Liana Beckett, here is a brief description of the progression of an addictive relationship:
1. Experiencing the euphoric high of a new relationship, which enables us to focus on another person, rather than dealing with our true emotional state
2. Seeking the positive mood swing, looking forward to it, being willing to make sacrifices to get it, suffering occasional feelings of dejection or jealousy or panic, but the pain is still manageable
3. Dependence, where focus on the lover crosses the line from choice to need, and life becomes narrow, unbalanced, unhealthy with obsessive thoughts and compulsive behaviors
4. Maintaining contact just to avoid being in a state of chronic depression and emotional pain, because there is no more euphoria and the inner balance is in shambles
Is this a state? It actually sounds like a series of states with a common thread. If we return to the gambler, we can see a similar fundamental story. A pursuit of magical redemption in which we get the prize if Lady Luck smiles on us, or fall back into a kind of emotional hell if she doesn’t.
But is that a fair analogy? Games of luck depend on the random distribution of a shuffled card deck, the end of a wheel’s momentum, the way dice fall. The gambler is essentially passive, beyond risking the stakes. In our relationships, we do so much more, don’t we? We don’t just show up and hope. We go out of our way to be charming, agreeable, enthusiastic, compliant, understanding, tolerant and supportive, while we kiss, cook, make love, arrange our schedules, dress to please, help out with their finances, children, careers, leave behind huge chunks of our lives as they were before. We’re actively building, investing, sacrificing, trying.
Still, the gambling analogy holds, because of one thing. The success of it all is out of our control. All we can do is our best, and hope that we earn a happy ending. In sociopathic relationships, we learn several very tough lessons. But primary among them is this: if our happiness depends on something outside of ourselves, we are living a gambler’s life.
The crumbling foundation
A recent show on HDTV was about the crumbling foundation under a house. Contractors mortared cinderblock up against the old walls and dug trenches around the outside of the foundation to divert the water that had weakened the concrete. In all, they managed to preserve the rooms of the house above by shoring up the old foundation.
What we face in getting over a sociopathic relationship something like the same problem, although our solution may be quite different. Our “states” are like rooms built on the foundation of old coping responses we adopted when we faced an overwhelming event when we were younger. When I was very small, I learned that no one would protect me from my father’s unreasonable verbal and physical abuse, and in fact, I was responsible for keeping him happy. At three years old or so, I developed an immediate coping response that involved alterations in patterns of feeling, thought and behavior, designed to manipulate circumstances and myself in order to survive. All of it was founded on an awareness of impending danger. But it also included a memory of the time before the danger, a dream of a better time, when I was loved, safe and could thrive as who I was.
That is a quick illustration of the foundation under a “room” in my psyche. I developed through my childhood and adult life with that “state” ready to be triggered by any circumstances that seemed to “fit.” Through the years, I furnished this room with more experiences that supported its reality, learned more survival skills for a world of impending danger, and once or twice, learned that I could relax and be myself in certain circumstances, thinking I was making big progress in my life.
But the twilight-zone reality of this room, which began with the original decision about how to handle an overwhelming childhood event, is what allowed the sociopath to take residence in my life. A coping strategy that was designed to help me survive danger as a child turned into a vulnerability to tremendous danger as an adult.
My friend who kept going back to a man who is incapable of loving her and uses her for money isn’t trying to hurt herself. In fact, she is trying to help herself out of other circumstances in her life. Because of her family background, she has a life strategy of being very, very good and helpful, because love must be earned and the alternative is punishment. Her dream is that, if she earns love, she will be able to recover the lost state of being accepted for herself and the right to her own identity. In this “state,” she is vulnerable to interpreting small kindnesses or seductive behaviors as “love” and acceptance. Especially if the other person meets certain other criteria, like bearing psychological resemblance to her pathologically selfish father.
All of us have gone through these perfect-storm situations when the right stimuli and our old coping strategies come together to throw us into a “state” that seems exciting and redemptive. But for my friend, on her final encounter with this man, something new emerged from this relationship — a realization that she was deluded. She was understandably disoriented because this realization potentially affected not just this relationship, but the structure of her entire life. When she said “I don’t know what to believe anymore” or “maybe I’m just too stupid to live,” she is talking about cracks in the foundation. Not just in the way she understood the world, but even in her ideas about her own identity.
How much can we lose?
In dealing with the residue of a sociopathic relationship, we feel separated from parts of our identity. We talk about not being able to trust again or love again. We talk about the loss of ourselves as lovable or attractive people, as trustworthy to ourselves or others, as believers in the goodness of the world or in a benevolent deity. We have feelings — like bitterness, anger, vengefulness — that we fear or dislike in ourselves. It seems like our rules of social engagement, romance or personality integrity have become broken or unreal.
It is no wonder that many of us need time before we jump back into the world again. With so many basic realities up in the air, a larger question emerges. If the world is so different, if we are so different that what we imagined, then what is real? Or more importantly, is real about us?
As profoundly disorienting as this may be, it is also part of the grieving and letting go stage of trauma processing. Because as we start to allow ourselves to face irretrievable losses — like the loss of the person we loved and the loss of the dream that person represented — we often discover that those losses are just the superficial veneer over deeper losses we have not yet grieved and let go.
In my case, grieving the loss of this man also brought me to the realization that he, and all the other lovers of my life, were band-aids I used cover a very old wound. That was the too-early loss of supportive protection when I was a child. I saw how much of my life was constructed around my coping with impending danger, and especially in my search for safety and restoration of a sense that I belonged and was welcome in the world.
In healing, I had to revisit that child who still existed in me, who was still holding up the foundation of that now-dysfunctional room that welcomed my sociopathic lover as a savior. I had to grieve with her about the childhood she lost while I reassured her that I was taking care of her now. That she could drop that weight finally, stop holding together all those coping strategies like a little Atlas with the world on her shoulders.
If you had asked me five years ago who I am, I would have given you a list of all the characteristics I developed in that room. Hardworking, responsible, trustworthy, generous, tolerant, kind, polite, presentable — all “virtues” that were really highly developed skills to earn the acceptance and approval I needed to feel safe. If you had thought to ask me who I was underneath all of that, and I was feeling particularly honest, I would have told you I was scared and tired and alone. Chronically and unfixably, except for the temporary respites I got from diving into another relationship, winning some praise for my work, or buying or eating something that made me feel better.
Today, if you asked me the same question, I would just smile. The question doesn’t compute. I am my “states,” and yes, they still exist. I still have knee-jerk responses to the stimuli that remind me of my old “world of impending danger.” But increasingly, I recognize them as responses to trauma. I observe myself slipping in and out of these states, being tempted to behaviors that are band-aids for pain.
In getting outside these states, I stopped limiting my identity to characteristics based on arranging my life around impending danger. I freed myself to grow into a larger identity. It includes characteristics — like selfishness, undependability and anger — that were forbidden before. I am more fluid and accepting of myself and other people. But most important, I find that my center has shifted. It’s hard to describe who I am now, but it includes this “observer,” as well as more awareness of the world around me, and more openness to feelings of joy, awe, gratitude and compassion.
I let go of a lot of things. It wasn’t always easy. There was backlash from well-intentioned “rules” and critical voices designed to keep me safe in a world of impending danger. I had to feel my way along to discover what rules were reasonable and which were obsolete artifacts of coping with a scary daddy.
This process of letting go of parts of myself will, I believe, never end. But, to my surprise, it becomes increasingly enjoyable. I once grieved over the discovery that I was not always trustworthy and that, despite all the effort I put into it, I could not make everyone like me. Now, when some inner voice tells me “I have to” do something, my inner observer frequently pops up and decides whether that “state” is useful or whether we have better options. More and more, everything about me is optional, because every moment is new with new challenges and new opportunities that have nothing to do with my history or with some frightened little identity that is really just baggage from that history.
As far as impending danger goes, that’s another issue that we’ll discuss in a future article. Fear, the natural fear of the dangers of a random universe, is something we still have not addressed in this journey of recovery. Grieving and letting go paves the way for that next stage.
Namaste. The joyous awakening spirit in me salutes the joyous awakening spirit in you.
Kathy
P.S. I owe a debt of gratitude to the writing of Stephen Wolinsky, Ph.D., for many of the ideas in this article. You can find his books on Amazon.
PS And some just need a day at a “stage”. And some aren’t stuck at a stage….for instance anger can lead to tremendous creativity, action, etc. Was John Walsh stuck at anger when he started his show? Or when someone launched a new law, etc? I dunno. And I think that researchers are finding the “stages” of grief don’t happen in the same order or even linearly for everyone. I bet there is another word other than stage, like “platform” or “juncture”….from which you can launch directly into full flight….or go on a path to yet another juncture. “landing pads” ….fun to play with words!
I just want to add one more nutritional supplement to that list. I discovered lecithin later, and it has become a regular part of my daily vitamin regimen because of its impact on my anxiety levels.
If you are interested in taking nutritional supplements to deal with depression, anxiety or pain, I strongly suggest you do your own research. There is a lot of information, including results from formal testing, available on the Web. One of the nicest things about the Internet is that you can evaluate the information you find — from the medical and alternative/traditional healing sources — and make your own decisions.
As I mentioned, people in my family don’t go to medical doctors, unless we need a prescription for something (or have some sort of medical crisis). My mother was an RN, and she instilled her reservations about the medical profession in her children. But that’s my bias.
Learnedthelesson, I was writing while you were posting, but I wanted to say I cried lots when working out. It was a nice therapeutic mix. For me, I left feeling empowered. From tears to strength…that is how my workouts felt to me.
Dear LearnED,
Yes, my dear, I too, even WITH massive handsfull of medication sat and stared and didn’t bathe, and the ONLY thing I did was feed the dog, but nothing else….after the plane crash that killed my husband. then I started pushing myself to get out, to exercise and so on, and BINGO, I got hooked by the P BF LOL. ROTFLMAO.
The euphoria created by teh relationship for about 4 months did spring me into walking on clouds, but then the devaluation started and for 4 more months I was in hell, then kicked him to the curb and back to sitting and staring! LOL
Some medications help person A and don’thelp person B, where it comes to infections, or depression. That’s why it is so important that a GOOD practitioner be the one to do the assessment. Unfortunately, many family doctors will pass out antidepressants to anyone who cries….so some people don’t really get a good assessment even though that family doctor is legally able to prescribe those meds, they aren’t many times the BEST individual to assess mental health issues.
I don’t even try to assess myself where med changes are concerned, but DO talk it over with my psychiatrist who Rx’s my medications. Over th epast 4 years I have halved the dose (the highest) I was taking, but have not really been able to decrease it below that, so I may take this dose for the rest of my life, but so what?
I also exercise (and I really think it helps burn off the stress hormones) and try to keep a balance in my social life, though I do tend to be somewhat isolationist now, but I do get out, I do interact with others, go do things that are fun, etc. I try to keep a reasonable schedule of sleep/wake and reasonable dietary intake etc. Just “good healthy” living, with a BALANCE.
To a certain extent the lethargy we have with depression, I think, is a positive thing, because it makes us “crawl under the porch” like an old sick dog, and REST. It is when we stay there forever that we “croak”—at some point we need to get back up and out. I stayed under the porch for way too long, even with medication, but I have tried to make sure I don[‘t do that again, even when I do want to, or it would feel easier to do so.
The damage that the “trauma event(s)” do to us is so overwhelming sometimes we just “melt down”—can’t see the forest for the trees or vice versa. That is why LF is so good, we see so many DIFFERENT POINTS OF VIEW. I know that I got trapped at times in “bad thinking” and couldn’t seem to break free of it, but I would come here and someone would point out something I didn’t see before.
Maybe what they pointed out didn’t apply to me, but many times it did. I always knew that the advice is advice that I can take or leave, use or lose, and I have never felt here that anyone was talking down to me or trying to foist off their opinion onto me, or “my way or the highway.”
I sure don’t agree with everything people on LF post, and I am sure not everyone agrees with me on everything I post. We wouldn’t be such a great and diverse group if we all agreed on everything. It is our diversity that makes us so powerful as a group. Each of us has had their own experiences and each has had their successes and failures, and sometimes we can relate to the experiences of others, but keeping in mind that each of us is UNIQUE and each of us has something to offer makes me feel safe here in speaking my mind, giving my opinion. I quit another group (turns out owned by Sam Vankin) on another blog because it was NOT safe to have an opinion, or safe to say “I am a Christian” and I felt stress and muzzled. It was right after that that I found love fraud. I have felt safe here because people here respect each others opinions and each person here. (((hugs)))) and all my prayers
Well said.
One thing I’d like input on….I know that it is good to take care of oneself and not feel responsible for anyone else’s feelings, actions (except children…we have to step in). But my career is all about policing, mentoring, teaching, helping, speaking up for those who CANNOT speak for themselves (like children and animals)……how do I keep that okay in my mind but not spill it into personal relationships.
Don’t know if I have stated the problem right. Might be true for some who are in the helping professions too.
justabouthealed, it’s nice to see you back.
If you check up at the top of this thread, I actually did put that caveat up. I thought it was necessary after your early feedback. You were heard, and thank you.
As far as the linearity of things go, or the fact that everyone doesn’t go through the same phases or all the phases, I totally agree. There’s also a lot of cycling back. My experience is that getting through a few stages on one issue can illuminate another underlying issue that is waiting to be addressed at an earlier phase. So it’s possible to do all kinds of work on different issues at the same time.
And perhaps I should have used that other title. Except that I’d been working with a number of other people during my own recovery, and we all seemed to travel essentially the same path. And for me, this is the test ground for a book I’m working on, which is not just about me, but about a stepped process through trauma healing. The methodology is a conglomeration of a lot of disciplines, but probably mostly Buddhist practice, the Kubler-Ross grief model and addiction/codependency recovery.
My personal goal, which may not be everyone else’s, is complete clearing of the trauma and transformation of that loss into personal growth. In the last article on grieving and letting go, I said it was the pivot point, where we move from working on what happened to us to working on ourselves. As I recall, there were some groans at the time about the idea of only being half done.
But that was half done for me, and for people who are looking at similar objectives. From what I’ve seen here, as well as with people I’ve worked with, not everyone wants to go there. And as I think I mentioned in one of my earlier responses to you, I have a suspicion this might be somewhat age related. A lot of people in later middle age have a kind of big spiritual renaissance. I was just talking to an older friend today and she was talking about how so many of her friends had gotten more deeply involved in religion as they got older.
For me, it’s not religion, per se, but it’s definitely related to spiritual growth. And as this series progresses, it will head more and more in that direction. Still with reference to trauma, because this whole path is triggered by trauma. But as a number of people here have mentioned, there is a big shift in what we’re doing with this recovery process and at some point the sociopathic relationship becomes less important, except as the trigger that set us off.
Today, while I was writing on another thread, a painful memory emerged that made me realize I have some unfinished business in my history with the sociopath. I’m sitting with it now, and see I’m going to have to go through another grief process (and then probably a few more rounds with deeper stuff as I dig out what this particular event is still so painful). I’ve come to realize that it doesn’t end, but it easier and faster for me, and I just keep getting more free, which is what I want.
I really do apologize if I sounded like I was talking down. I have a kind of map in my head that winds through various countries of feelings. And I meant it, even if I said it badly, that each state has its reasons, its attractions, its strengths, its things to do for ourselves and in the world. I do believe that wherever we are is where we’re supposed to be in all the threads we’re working in our lives. And if there’s somewhere else we’re going to move onto, we do that when it’s right for us.
You mentioned about my being an authority, and Donna and I discussed that too this week. I don’t feel like an authority. I do feel like a kind of guide, but only for people who are looking for that kind of guide. The number of people who are responding to my articles is diminishing as I progress further down this path. I expected that. Anger was probably the last one that more or less everyone can relate to, or wants to relate to.
I was angry for a long time, years. I loved it. It was freeing after a lifetime of feeling like I wasn’t allowed. It was powerful and energetic. And even now, I summon anger when I really need to get something done or break through some wall of inertia or fear. I felt like I had moved on from being angry about the past, and was putting that good fiery energy into changing the here-and-now things I saw that needed changing.
I actually alienated some “enlightened” friends of mine when I spent time trying to convince them of the importance of embracing your inner warrior. (Anger has a bad rap in the enlightenment community, and I still think they don’t get it that it’s a natural response in our systems that gives us energy and focus to deal with the inevitable challenges of life. Being enlightened doesn’t mean being a floppy rag doll being passively understanding of every damned thing. We have minds, emotions and muscles so that we can do some good in the world, or so I think.)
I finally started looking beyond it because I started feeling like there was too much of it in my life. I felt like I was always living with fire or ashy hangovers. I started distrusting its lens, because I was seeing too much as black and white, when I knew things were more complicated than that. And in particular, I know that I was more complicated than that, and I was tired of living with the self-judgments that the state of anger seemed to include.
You know, as I write this, I think I need to do the next peace on forgiveness. This is where things aren’t linear, for sure. There are so many things I want to write about now, and maybe anger is the last bit of the linear progression. After that it gets more random.
JAH, you describe yourself as thriving in anger. But I read your posts and see that you are taking care of yourself in really wonderful ways. And I think that perhaps what you call anger, I would call enlightened self expression. Your anger is also mixed with love and caring. The targets of your expression are not old history that you’re still reliving. But here-and-now challenges to your sense of right and wrong.
We don’t all become hermits and monks. In fact, I think that the end of true healing is activism. It may be on a small front, like the family, or a larger front like the world. But we are freed to reach out of our own hearts and soul knowledge to do what we think is right. The whole point of mastering anger is to also master power, that is the will to act and to affect the world. The only reason to go on through the rest of this stuff is to clear away any static and residue that keeps us from clarity, courage and willingness.
KH and JAH,
I agree with you both on the “stages” (by whatever word you want to call them) of the grief “process” are NOT linear. if you numbered them they would go “randomly” from 1 to 4 to 2 to 3 to 4 to 1 to 3 to 4 etc etc. There is nothing about it at all that doesn’t “flip flop”around from day to day or minute to minute. Elizabeth Kubler-Ross’ model for grief is the one I like the best and makes the most sense to me, but yours (KH’) is very similar to hers in many ways.
One of the things I have observed in working professionally with grieving people is that, say for example, the parents of a child who is severely injured and/or dying. One parent will be in sadness, the other in anger, and because they cannot easily relate to which stage the other parent is in, there will be problems between the parents. Maybe one parent blaming the other for the chld’s condition…etc. I have seen this break up families who were at least “functional” to a reasonable degree because they did not understand the “stage” that the other family members were in was different from the stage that they were in at the moment. Plus those stages can change so rapidly you are dizzy from your own changes and super dizzy and confused by others changes.
After my husband’s death, my sons and I tried very hard to be aware of what the other was feeling. It was difficult but we managed and our grief did not tear us apart or cause us to turn on each other. Sometimes we are so RAW that we strike out at the hand that is reaching out to us in peace.
A sweet little friend of my son D’s drove 7 hours to come to our house directly after the crash and she was so anxious and felt so powerless to “help” that she just kept chattering, and I so needed QUIET, and I turned on her like a rabid dog when she would NOT be quiet. I threatened to hit her if she did not shut her mouth and remain silent. I would have too. At that instant I was so angry I would have hurt her. I love her dearly and I knew even then that she loves us but I was so ANGRY at that moment I could not tolerate her chatter.
We take offense at the very people who are trying in their own way to be supportive of us. If a friend says “I know how you feel” and you KNOW THAT IS NOT TRUE, you might take offense—I replied to someone who said that with “Well, when did Dan burn to death? I didn’t read it in the paper?”
Sometimes they may try to use humor to cheer you up, and if you are raw enough, you might, like I did, respond with anger because your situation sure is NOT funny. Yet, NOW I can look back at some of the most awful times in my life and actually LAUGH AT HOW HORRIBLE they were. I wouldn’t have laughed back then, though.
A knowledge that each of us is in their own unique place on the “road to healing” (the grief process) and so may therefore not be “in tune” with the stage another is in, is a good thing fo rus all to know, so that we may be more patient with others, and more understanding. (((hugs)))))
Kathleen,
Yes, I just “keep getting more free”. What a journey this has been, and how greatful I am for LF and for the opportunity to join my experience with all of yours on the road to a New Life. Here, I have good days and stretching days, and am always able to find a solution to whatever may be troubling me or for any victories, however small they may be. I have been able to process what has happened to me through the experience with the S in my life, and also to be validated by many someone’s who understand. After all, even Oprah doesn’t seem to get it! My friends who haven’t been through this don’t get it, nor does my family. My Christian friends think I need to pray for the S (sigh), and most people are clueless. Years ago, while I was still in denial, I read anything I could get my hands on by Robert Hare and Hervey Cleckley, as well as Sam Vaniken and the DSM 1V and whatever else I could get my hands on that might be even remotely informative. I couldn’t see til’ I could see or hear til’ I could hear. Using my head to learn and my heart to pray, as well as some good anti-depressants and exercise have helped. Getting enough sleep and eating healthy food was another piece for me. Making sure I journaled when I needed to for clarity…all of these things have helped. I buy those aromatherapy sticks with good smells to put around my house, and fix some Earl Gray tea…watch a comedy, cry, etc. I’ve become pretty creative. I call my 3 yr old granddaughter in another city to talk on the phone…she’s pretty funny! She thinks Santa lives at my house, so most times when I talk to her she wants to talk to him, so I have to put “on” my Santa voice. Sometimes I just walk outdoors and smell the Lilacs or open the window when I’m driving and let the cool air touch my face to remind me I’m alive. Gratitude lists help too. I AM FINALLY FREE OF THE P. Blessings to you all!
Oh housie, gratitude is just a wonderful things, isn’t it? Thanks for sharing yours. It was like a little aromatherapy coming right through my monitor.
Thanks to all of u for your advice, awesome! I love the vitamin advice especially and welcome more of it. Id like to add- my hair started showing alot of stress, and taking Shen Men (avail online) has helped tremendously. Takes a few months consistent to see changes, but people compliment about my healthy hair all the time. Im just glad its no longer falling out!!Also, Nioxin is good, Ive used both.
Learnthelesson, your post was beautifully said and makes me feel not so much like I am “losing it” and cant find ever “find” it again. For the 1st time this week, I see alittle light at the end of this tunnel, even some rainbows- a glimmer but thats all i need.
FINALLY, instead of this feeling that I may never get back to my beloved gym classes,yoga in particular (I sooo recommend it),Like you said LTL, the awesome hikes, parks, etc. I am looking forward to doing it again! I have finally, after much concern- realized that my brain is not gone or incapable of functioning again b/c When I can make it into work, i am really my old self again, no one would know that the other 3 or 4 days I am lying around the house like road kill!
(smell like it too- Ive tested the limits on how long can a body go with no shower? -Theres Much less clothes to wash when U stay in the same clothes for a WEEK) lol.
And, You know you need to clean your floors when your socks are sticking to them!! UGH
At work- I function well-I laugh with customers-never cry or have any time to dwell on problems, and LOVE my career in running this store. It feels like home, a real sense of accomplishment there. I hope everyone of you can have that 1 thing that makes you feel like “this is what I am supposed to do with my life”. Whatever that is, JUST one thing can bring you up. (Yoga helps me tremendously & I do it at home when i cant handle getting out ) Children are everything, but when in depression, the guilt that you arent “in the moment” with them can be rough. WIth my job, I tend to not be as hard on myself, Im just happy I made it there!!! Im happy now that I can be productive 3 days a week on the job- its better than none.
I contribute my current optimism from constantly 24/7 reading, posting on LF lately. I feel connected to all of you guys as we have common goals and same circumstances.
One more thing- I think with women in particular (not to leave our beloved guys here out) we tend to center our free time around responsiblities not hobbies that we enjoy or just doing something cuz its FUN. We forget to sometimes just be kids again.
Joyce Meyers ( love her) said once that due to severe abuse she didnt have a real childhood as many of you. She prayed to God and said that there was no reason why she shouldnt Play and enjoy now what she could not when she was a child. SHe vowed to not take things so seriously and see the carefree world of a child. I believe that is what I have been missing since the N/P is n/c. xoxo