Being Present, Practical Details About Recovery Part II. It Makes Us Feel Better and Heal.......... 5/4/15

        Cried three times Satur-day.  It happened while visiting someone dear.  We were together from 10:00 a.m. to 7:00 p.m.  Afterwards, I was emotionally fried.  I took care of me.  I went to bed at 8:00 p.m.

         Like wet noodles in a colander, was how drained I was.  I could not hold up a noodle of a thought.  No post written Saturday.  Recovery teaches me to make "First Things First."  Being real is healing for the soul.  I needed mending from losses suffered on Saturday.

        Sunday afternoon that happened.  I cycled with Pablo Jr.  We visited Big Basin State Park. It released intense feelings awakened the day before.  Frustration, along with sweat, poured from my body while climbing hills on two wheels.

        We trekked through Redwood trees.  We rode over roots.  We bolted away from boulders.  Cycling, removing stress from our bodies was preferred to Prozac.  It was more excellent than Xanax.  Calmness returned as my companion.

        In the morning, the most emotion expressed in the fewest words took place.  The hurricane of feelings swirling within me flew from a fountain pen.  The alchemy of poetry transformed what was alive in me.  Intensely expressed measured lines where changed into a pool of prose.

        Scribing subsided the churning within.  The inner me was given voice.  I was not stifled, like I was as a child.  I was real.  With myself.

         I faced my emotions.  I honored what was alive within me.  I met my need for expression.  My need for connection and emotional safety was met later, when with my son.

        Sensations were not ignored.  I was present.   I sat with the negative feelings.  These disturbing feelings were the result of Saturday's visit.  All of Sunday's efforts---poetic and physical---helped me recover from loss.

        They were an ointment.  Sunday helped sooth scrapes encountered when I was thrown upon the asphalt of reality.  Reluctantly, I am picking myself up.  I'm processing the broken wrist of disappointment. I am stinging from road burn of sadness.

      On the way to Big Basin State Park, the oldest in California, I listened to my son.  The intensity of his work he shared. Fortunately, he's not getting gray hairs.  I am proud of his diligence. I respect his street smarts. I am happy about his success.  It was soothing music for my soul, being with him.

      Saturday, my time with someone dear, was devastating.  I spoke my truth.  I was gentle.  Towards the end, I cried.  I felt my hurt.

      I was emotional.  I did not stay in my head.  I expressed my feelings and needs. I was present.  I experi-enced a burning not known before.

      At first, I closed my eyelids.  I dammed tears that wanted release. She told me it was okay to cry.  I could release my feelings.  They streamed across my face.

     Being real made me feel better.

        I am present and authentic as I write this post.  What are my plans, going forward?  I have no idea.  But, I am in a better place.  Even though it is not the place I thought I would be.

       Acceptance is hard.  It is not submitting to a degrading situation. That's passivity.  Page 256 in Courage to Change helps.  It says acceptance is coming to terms with my circumstances.

       It is looking at what steps I can take.   Acting like a victim is a choice, not a destiny.  We have options.  What is the woman with a sex addict, controlling, alcoholic, narcissistic, bullying, husband to do?   Get rid of the bum.

      For me, it is resting in God's love.  It is being in touch with my feelings.  It is emptying them out.  I did in my conversation two days ago.  Today, I feel more in tune with myself.

      I feel emotionally whole.  I am happier.  I am like the bird that twitches after slamming into a window.  The trauma has been shaken off.

      I did not hold my feelings within.  Many do.  I released them.  I don't care to have emotional constipation. It's also known as depression.

      Pain, depression, fear, anxiety and anger are not etched into my face.  I have not prematurely aged.  It is futile not expressing emotions.  The trick is doing so, maturely. I am not interested in harming others in the process.

Recovery Defined

      This requires recovery.  It is applying healthy principles.  It overcoming our vulnerabilities.  It is drawing close to God.  Recovery is being gentle towards ourselves.

      It is nurturing ourselves, especially during difficult times.  We respond, not react.   We do not let others define us or determine our moods.   It is being present with what is.  Whether reality is painful or pleasant.

      It is not using controlling measures. We do not use them to overcome fear, anxiety or insecurity. Recovery is not presenting ourselves as more confident than we are. It is being vulnerable within our community of Safe People.

      I don't know yet the outcome Saturday's conversation.  I am entering into uncertainty.  I enjoy a confidence made possible being present.  I know the support of the good company I keep.