This morning I woke up and was quickly drenched in fear.
A lot of past events ran through my mind and I felt the residue of them in my body. Hips clenched, my jaw was tight, arms wrapped around myself or hands holding the part of my body which felt most frightened.
Eventually I managed to get up and have some breakfast. I wrote my journal and realised that I felt exhausted and wanted to go back to sleep - if nothing else to have another hour of respite from feeling. Normally I would have overridden this: viewed it as a weakness and not something to be indulged when I 'should' be getting on with so many other things.
But today, I showed myself a bit more compassion and went back to bed. I slept deeply and now this afternoon I feel able to cope with the feelings which are coming up. They have moved to the background a bit which is why I feel able to write.
I am healing some old wounds - old wounds which have been exacerbated by more recent ones. They carry such huge shame and such terror and at times I feel as if I have reached my limits and simply cannot hold anymore. I think maybe that's where the sleep came in helpful. Being kind to myself helped me to let go. To not have to hold it all for a while by surrendering to sleep.
I still feel guilty for giving myself what I needed - after all, sleeping is not what I should be doing on a Monday morning! I should be out working like 'normal' people. Like healthy people. But that's the point isn't it. I'm not out there working because I feel exhausted quite often or simply unable to cope. It's hard to admit that. Because it's how I've been feeling for so long and I do feel a huge amount better than I used to. I'm just not quite 'there' yet. Not quite able to go out into the world - or at least feel huge terror about doing so because it feels so dangerous out there and I feel so inadequate.
And of course the more I do to heal myself, the more the fears and shame come up. Because the things I do to heal myself confront those feelings and bring them out into the open - instead of staying where they've been repressed for years. And I know this is a good thing and is healthy. It's just not easy!
I realised this morning that I felt very unsafe. Part of going back to sleep was about recovering a sense of safety: being in my bed where I feel safe and surrendering into that. I am typing this from my bed. Thank goodness the wifi is working today! I am going so deeply into my fears that I need to counter-balance this with really taking good care of myself. And allowing myself to sleep when I need to, eating good food regularly, really listening to what my body is telling me about what it needs.... these things all help me to feel safer because they help me to feel heard. Not being heard has been the source of much terror, pain, shame and anger for me (just as being heard is now scary). So I am giving myself the gifts I need to feel safe again; to learn to trust, at least in myself.
I need to be heard.
Love to you,
Lyra ♥
Showing posts with label compassion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label compassion. Show all posts
Monday, 3 October 2011
Wednesday, 31 August 2011
Guilt and Punishment
Yesterday was rather challenging.
I felt very tired, grumpy, upset, stressed, unable to concentrate and, on top of that, guilty about feeling that way because it meant I wasn't very 'productive'.
On a wider, sociological point, I can see that our society is programmed to make us as productive as possible from as young an age as possible to as old an age as possible. To make us 'economically viable' for the greatest time period we can be. You can see it on the simple things such as adverts for cold and flu remedies which tell you that if you're sick, you must be able to keep going anyway; the way that people who claim benefits are far too readily labelled as 'scroungers' (particularly by the current government); and the way that if you are a martyr who constantly gives, gives, gives and takes nothing in return then you are lauded and applauded - no matter if doing so makes you ill, it's important that you keep going and keep giving.
So what of the personal origins of this guilt for me?
This morning, I slept through my alarm and so the guilt continued. I actually felt guilty about the fact that I slept a little longer than some random, self-imposed time I should be getting up, despite the fact I had nothing in particular to get up for and could actually have laid in bed all day if I really wanted to.
I realised that it's all about self-punishment. And, I'm fairly sure, links with an addiction to an adrenalised state of being (the theory that if you grow up or live for a long time in an abusive situation, your body becomes normalised to being adrenalised and then is addicted to adrenaline. You will then seek out ways to perpetuate this state of being, whether by thrill-seeking, constant recourse to conflict, or simply by maintaining a high level of stress in your life). So, if I'm stressed about even lying in bed when I'm tired, then even when I'm outwardly resting, adrenaline is working its addictive magic on me. So, guilt is the brain's clever way of getting another fix! Induce a state of stress on the body by providing sufficient mental anxiety, even when there is no real reason for it, and adrenaline will be your reward!
Last week I was working solidly on other projects: I worked and slept and that was pretty much it. It was a highly productive time and very tiring. And yet, I still managed to feel guilty for not writing my blog! And if I'm writing, I feel guilty I'm not doing the washing up or vacuuming. And if I'm doing that, I feel guilty I'm not working on something else or doing one of the who knows how many little unfinished, self-imposed tasks I could be doing. It's a form of insanity because it makes me feel constantly crazy, anxious and unsettled.
What is all this guilt about?
It is definitely about self-punishment. Because it is about not allowing myself to fully enjoy or be absorbed in anything. It's about maintaining a level of stress in my body and mind. And I've been choosing to live in a stressful, self-punishing way for a long time. You can see it in my environment - all the unfinished tasks and clutter - the partners I choose who are always in some way unavailable, the career paths I follow or don't follow, the financial situation I keep myself in.....
Why? Why do I think I deserve all this terrible punishment? Why do I think I'm so unworthy of what I really want, never mind what I really need?
I think that I'm punishing myself for not speaking up about my stepfather when I first found out about him all those years ago. And I think I'm also punishing myself for 'being so bad that I drove my dad to leave'.
I can feel the terrible rawness of these truths scraping at my heart. It's a terrible wound to bear - and I'm punishing myself for having it.
I can feel the anguish of a teenager who was so afraid and angry she did not know what to do and so did what she had been taught for many years - stay silent and do nothing: hide your pain. I can feel the suffering of a little girl who blamed herself for the fact her daddy had left her.
And I can feel this anguish and suffering in so many of my decisions over the years which have kept me in a place of disempowerment and stress. I can feel it in the desperate need to feel like I'm good enough. I can feel it in the torture that is making decisions of any kind because committing to one path could result in further guilt and self-punishment if I'm 'wrong'. And I can feel it in the fact that I consider myself so unworthy of time that I cannot even rest when I'm tired without feeling guilty.
I can feel an immediate drive to provide myself with affirmation of how worthy I am and the fact I deserve good things. To show myself compassion. But I realise, that compassion starts with acceptance. And I need to sit with this new way of seeing for a while in order to really accept it. To give this wound the attention it so sorely needs.
Love to you,
Lyra ♥
I felt very tired, grumpy, upset, stressed, unable to concentrate and, on top of that, guilty about feeling that way because it meant I wasn't very 'productive'.
On a wider, sociological point, I can see that our society is programmed to make us as productive as possible from as young an age as possible to as old an age as possible. To make us 'economically viable' for the greatest time period we can be. You can see it on the simple things such as adverts for cold and flu remedies which tell you that if you're sick, you must be able to keep going anyway; the way that people who claim benefits are far too readily labelled as 'scroungers' (particularly by the current government); and the way that if you are a martyr who constantly gives, gives, gives and takes nothing in return then you are lauded and applauded - no matter if doing so makes you ill, it's important that you keep going and keep giving.
So what of the personal origins of this guilt for me?
This morning, I slept through my alarm and so the guilt continued. I actually felt guilty about the fact that I slept a little longer than some random, self-imposed time I should be getting up, despite the fact I had nothing in particular to get up for and could actually have laid in bed all day if I really wanted to.
I realised that it's all about self-punishment. And, I'm fairly sure, links with an addiction to an adrenalised state of being (the theory that if you grow up or live for a long time in an abusive situation, your body becomes normalised to being adrenalised and then is addicted to adrenaline. You will then seek out ways to perpetuate this state of being, whether by thrill-seeking, constant recourse to conflict, or simply by maintaining a high level of stress in your life). So, if I'm stressed about even lying in bed when I'm tired, then even when I'm outwardly resting, adrenaline is working its addictive magic on me. So, guilt is the brain's clever way of getting another fix! Induce a state of stress on the body by providing sufficient mental anxiety, even when there is no real reason for it, and adrenaline will be your reward!
Last week I was working solidly on other projects: I worked and slept and that was pretty much it. It was a highly productive time and very tiring. And yet, I still managed to feel guilty for not writing my blog! And if I'm writing, I feel guilty I'm not doing the washing up or vacuuming. And if I'm doing that, I feel guilty I'm not working on something else or doing one of the who knows how many little unfinished, self-imposed tasks I could be doing. It's a form of insanity because it makes me feel constantly crazy, anxious and unsettled.
What is all this guilt about?
It is definitely about self-punishment. Because it is about not allowing myself to fully enjoy or be absorbed in anything. It's about maintaining a level of stress in my body and mind. And I've been choosing to live in a stressful, self-punishing way for a long time. You can see it in my environment - all the unfinished tasks and clutter - the partners I choose who are always in some way unavailable, the career paths I follow or don't follow, the financial situation I keep myself in.....
Why? Why do I think I deserve all this terrible punishment? Why do I think I'm so unworthy of what I really want, never mind what I really need?
I think that I'm punishing myself for not speaking up about my stepfather when I first found out about him all those years ago. And I think I'm also punishing myself for 'being so bad that I drove my dad to leave'.
I can feel the terrible rawness of these truths scraping at my heart. It's a terrible wound to bear - and I'm punishing myself for having it.
I can feel the anguish of a teenager who was so afraid and angry she did not know what to do and so did what she had been taught for many years - stay silent and do nothing: hide your pain. I can feel the suffering of a little girl who blamed herself for the fact her daddy had left her.
And I can feel this anguish and suffering in so many of my decisions over the years which have kept me in a place of disempowerment and stress. I can feel it in the desperate need to feel like I'm good enough. I can feel it in the torture that is making decisions of any kind because committing to one path could result in further guilt and self-punishment if I'm 'wrong'. And I can feel it in the fact that I consider myself so unworthy of time that I cannot even rest when I'm tired without feeling guilty.
I can feel an immediate drive to provide myself with affirmation of how worthy I am and the fact I deserve good things. To show myself compassion. But I realise, that compassion starts with acceptance. And I need to sit with this new way of seeing for a while in order to really accept it. To give this wound the attention it so sorely needs.
Love to you,
Lyra ♥
Wednesday, 17 August 2011
Commitment and Procrastination
Why can't I write today?
I am suffering my first case of 'writer's block'! It's so interesting!! I keep getting up and doing other things or reading articles. Supposedly in order to inspire myself to write something but in all honesty it's a distraction and I know it.
So...... Where does this procrastination spring from?
Well, it's actually rather hard to write about procrastination when you're stuck in the middle of feeling it! It's not altogether conducive to the flow - particularly when the cat keeps jumping on the table in front of the computer.
Generally, I think that for me procrastination springs from fear. Phew! Just saying that is a relief. Admitting the truth of the matter is always so helpful. So what is it I'm afraid of? My old friend 'Not Good Enough' has renewed contact with me. I can feel it in the tightness of my jaw and the long pauses in between typing sentences. Not Good Enough has sprung up this time in response to being told my writing is good - by several different people. Aaaaaargh! To think I might actually be good at what I love doing? That's just too much for Not Good Enough. There's no way I'm getting away with that without a fight.
Well, the only way I have ever found to relieve fear is to do the thing I am afraid of - to move through it and out the other side. And as I write, I feel the flow returning, the words coming more easily and naturally as they usually do.
And I feel sad that I have spent years of my life in procrastination, terrified of doing the things I love in case I'm not good enough. The fear of failure is also a terror of success. Because if people start to think that I'm good at something, that creates an expectation: one I must then continue to live up to. And what if I can't live up to it? What if, after supporting me, they are then left disappointed at my future efforts?
My mind whirls on in a plethora of negative self-belief that I cannot truly commit to my dreams in case I don't live up to others' expectations - or, more importantly, my own. And there is also the terror of investing in something only to lose it - because the fear of abandonment is so huge for me.
And this brings me to my difficulties with commitment. Because I definitely have them. And it's not that I can't follow through on anything at all because I can and frequently do. But when it comes to my work in particular, commitment is a huge deal for me. Sticking at something is very hard. I spent years in temp jobs for that reason - unknowingly. I thought I was just young and wanted freedom and never to be tied down to one thing: that to do the same thing every day or even just every week was boring and I needed variety. And that all seemed fine. But that has had consequences. And now, as I get a bit older, I realise how damaging the lack of routine and of any security has been for me.
And on the other hand, I have been so committed in relationships that I have stayed in them even when they were deeply painful or even abusive. Because the commitment was so important. And because I believed I had to stick out the 'rough times' - even though that's all the relationship was - at any cost.
I could go into the reasons for this behaviour and I certainly think it's important to understand where these patterns started and why they're there. But I feel like I do understand that. And it's no good keeping on saying that 'oh I'm like this because of what happened to me when I was a child' because I'm not a child anymore.
That's not to say I don't have huge compassion for myself - or anyone else who has had a traumatic childhood. I do. But sometimes a child needs to be taught discipline of self. And that is what I need to teach my inner child - to have the self discipline to sit down and do the work I so want to do and am simply afraid of. Because if I don't, the only loser is me.
I have been practising commitment in various ways in my life - such as writing this blog once a week and ensuring that I do sit down and write it (even when it's hard like today). And with friends I am becoming more committed to spending time with them more often and developing deeper bonds of connection and trust. That has already made a huge difference.
Only last night, I was with friends in a safe, healing place and feeling a huge amount - of fear, anger and pain. I had a sudden urge to simply run away: to leave my life behind and start anew somewhere else and to forget everything about my past. Then I looked around at the community of people of which I am a part and felt such love for them that I stayed. I realised that the whole point of life is to stay: to stay with yourself, your feelings, your life, your community. Because this commitment is what builds love and trust between people and within yourself. And there is nothing more worthwhile than that.
Love to you, always,
Lyra ♥
I am suffering my first case of 'writer's block'! It's so interesting!! I keep getting up and doing other things or reading articles. Supposedly in order to inspire myself to write something but in all honesty it's a distraction and I know it.
So...... Where does this procrastination spring from?
Well, it's actually rather hard to write about procrastination when you're stuck in the middle of feeling it! It's not altogether conducive to the flow - particularly when the cat keeps jumping on the table in front of the computer.
Generally, I think that for me procrastination springs from fear. Phew! Just saying that is a relief. Admitting the truth of the matter is always so helpful. So what is it I'm afraid of? My old friend 'Not Good Enough' has renewed contact with me. I can feel it in the tightness of my jaw and the long pauses in between typing sentences. Not Good Enough has sprung up this time in response to being told my writing is good - by several different people. Aaaaaargh! To think I might actually be good at what I love doing? That's just too much for Not Good Enough. There's no way I'm getting away with that without a fight.
Well, the only way I have ever found to relieve fear is to do the thing I am afraid of - to move through it and out the other side. And as I write, I feel the flow returning, the words coming more easily and naturally as they usually do.
And I feel sad that I have spent years of my life in procrastination, terrified of doing the things I love in case I'm not good enough. The fear of failure is also a terror of success. Because if people start to think that I'm good at something, that creates an expectation: one I must then continue to live up to. And what if I can't live up to it? What if, after supporting me, they are then left disappointed at my future efforts?
My mind whirls on in a plethora of negative self-belief that I cannot truly commit to my dreams in case I don't live up to others' expectations - or, more importantly, my own. And there is also the terror of investing in something only to lose it - because the fear of abandonment is so huge for me.
And this brings me to my difficulties with commitment. Because I definitely have them. And it's not that I can't follow through on anything at all because I can and frequently do. But when it comes to my work in particular, commitment is a huge deal for me. Sticking at something is very hard. I spent years in temp jobs for that reason - unknowingly. I thought I was just young and wanted freedom and never to be tied down to one thing: that to do the same thing every day or even just every week was boring and I needed variety. And that all seemed fine. But that has had consequences. And now, as I get a bit older, I realise how damaging the lack of routine and of any security has been for me.
And on the other hand, I have been so committed in relationships that I have stayed in them even when they were deeply painful or even abusive. Because the commitment was so important. And because I believed I had to stick out the 'rough times' - even though that's all the relationship was - at any cost.
I could go into the reasons for this behaviour and I certainly think it's important to understand where these patterns started and why they're there. But I feel like I do understand that. And it's no good keeping on saying that 'oh I'm like this because of what happened to me when I was a child' because I'm not a child anymore.
That's not to say I don't have huge compassion for myself - or anyone else who has had a traumatic childhood. I do. But sometimes a child needs to be taught discipline of self. And that is what I need to teach my inner child - to have the self discipline to sit down and do the work I so want to do and am simply afraid of. Because if I don't, the only loser is me.
I have been practising commitment in various ways in my life - such as writing this blog once a week and ensuring that I do sit down and write it (even when it's hard like today). And with friends I am becoming more committed to spending time with them more often and developing deeper bonds of connection and trust. That has already made a huge difference.
Only last night, I was with friends in a safe, healing place and feeling a huge amount - of fear, anger and pain. I had a sudden urge to simply run away: to leave my life behind and start anew somewhere else and to forget everything about my past. Then I looked around at the community of people of which I am a part and felt such love for them that I stayed. I realised that the whole point of life is to stay: to stay with yourself, your feelings, your life, your community. Because this commitment is what builds love and trust between people and within yourself. And there is nothing more worthwhile than that.
Love to you, always,
Lyra ♥
Friday, 15 July 2011
Courage, Clarity and Compassion
I had a dream last night that I was trying to escape from an erupting volcano.
There was a river of lava and I was in a car with a curious collection of people - two characters from a soap opera I don't watch, a fearful father and his silent daughter and my friend's dog. We drove very erratically and in the end were attempting to drive through a fence in order to get onto a motorway so we could drive faster. That's when I woke up.
I began to interpret this dream as me running away from negative feelings - in particular anger - or of a powerful destructive force trying to take me over, which I thought was probably codependence as I have been struggling with and also gaining a lot of clarity on this this week.
However... It struck me that volcanoes are an elemental, primal force and I wondered if this dream had more to do with my ego running from the cleansing fires of my instincts: instincts which desire to destroy all the old rules and fears and leave instead new fertile ground, full of potential.
This idea felt right to me - it sat well in my bones. So I decided to meditate on it and visualise being in the lava flow. I had felt very strongly in the dream that I must protect the dog and felt that this represented my inner child - my vulnerable, dependent self. So, I envisaged myself holding both my inner child and my inner teenager in my lap - in a kind of protected bubble - while lava flowed all around us. I was grounded like a rock while fire streamed past. Then suddenly, I was the fire, my hair was white-hot flames and we became snakes swimming in the lava river. I felt deeply connected to myself and innately powerful.
This went on for some time until the lava flowed away, back under the earth, and we were left in a charred expanse - a valley with mountains - which was so fertile that lush meadows and trees sprang up almost immediately. I engaged with my inner child and teenager for a while - talking with them, finding out their pains and motivations.
I realised several things from this experience. My inner child is very trusting, honest, brave, wise, playful and eager to please. She is also very afraid and wants quite desperately to be looked after. My inner teenager is strong, dynamic, proactive, protective of others and passionate. She is also obsessed with men, sex and affairs of the heart to such an extent that it is to her own detriment. When, as an adult, I check out and, for whatever reasons, abandon myself, they take over and I display all those qualities. I am unable to simply be myself because I'll be obsessing about an attractive man and am so eager to please him that I do not consider my own needs. I am angry and terrified and use both emotions to keep away grief - or intimacy with another person. I am so full of fear and resentment that I procrastinate and am unable to function and do the things I know I both need and am capable of doing to improve my life.
I understand just how much I need adequate parenting from myself: to be the healthy mother and father my psyche needs; the role model, guru and wise woman that can lead my inner child and teenager from their stuck roles and back into where they need and deserve to be - in lush, fertile meadows where they are safe, secure and able to play, create, laugh and love to their hearts content, secure in the knowledge that they are loved, cared for and protected by a responsible, capable adult: me.
My brain truly feels like it has expanded: that new pathways have been formed. It is amazing to me that, in actual fact, "The brain begins to form new pathways purely by thinking"*. All it takes is courage to perform the steps necessary for them to grow: for us literally to grow in our understanding and connection with ourselves.
I feel that I can take a step back from the fear and anger inside on those days when these emotions threaten to be engulfing, as I now have a clearer understanding of where they come from. If I can talk to my frightened inner child or my wrathful inner teen and ask them why it is they've been triggered in this way, then I can have a better hold on remaining present and in charge - of staying the adult and not letting the 'kids' take over. That way, I can have more control over how I direct my life and where it is heading. And a lot more compassion for myself.
Love to you,
Lyra ♥
*Source: http://www.hypnotherapy-plus.com/#/making-new-pathways/4539053042
There was a river of lava and I was in a car with a curious collection of people - two characters from a soap opera I don't watch, a fearful father and his silent daughter and my friend's dog. We drove very erratically and in the end were attempting to drive through a fence in order to get onto a motorway so we could drive faster. That's when I woke up.
I began to interpret this dream as me running away from negative feelings - in particular anger - or of a powerful destructive force trying to take me over, which I thought was probably codependence as I have been struggling with and also gaining a lot of clarity on this this week.
However... It struck me that volcanoes are an elemental, primal force and I wondered if this dream had more to do with my ego running from the cleansing fires of my instincts: instincts which desire to destroy all the old rules and fears and leave instead new fertile ground, full of potential.
This idea felt right to me - it sat well in my bones. So I decided to meditate on it and visualise being in the lava flow. I had felt very strongly in the dream that I must protect the dog and felt that this represented my inner child - my vulnerable, dependent self. So, I envisaged myself holding both my inner child and my inner teenager in my lap - in a kind of protected bubble - while lava flowed all around us. I was grounded like a rock while fire streamed past. Then suddenly, I was the fire, my hair was white-hot flames and we became snakes swimming in the lava river. I felt deeply connected to myself and innately powerful.
This went on for some time until the lava flowed away, back under the earth, and we were left in a charred expanse - a valley with mountains - which was so fertile that lush meadows and trees sprang up almost immediately. I engaged with my inner child and teenager for a while - talking with them, finding out their pains and motivations.
I realised several things from this experience. My inner child is very trusting, honest, brave, wise, playful and eager to please. She is also very afraid and wants quite desperately to be looked after. My inner teenager is strong, dynamic, proactive, protective of others and passionate. She is also obsessed with men, sex and affairs of the heart to such an extent that it is to her own detriment. When, as an adult, I check out and, for whatever reasons, abandon myself, they take over and I display all those qualities. I am unable to simply be myself because I'll be obsessing about an attractive man and am so eager to please him that I do not consider my own needs. I am angry and terrified and use both emotions to keep away grief - or intimacy with another person. I am so full of fear and resentment that I procrastinate and am unable to function and do the things I know I both need and am capable of doing to improve my life.
I understand just how much I need adequate parenting from myself: to be the healthy mother and father my psyche needs; the role model, guru and wise woman that can lead my inner child and teenager from their stuck roles and back into where they need and deserve to be - in lush, fertile meadows where they are safe, secure and able to play, create, laugh and love to their hearts content, secure in the knowledge that they are loved, cared for and protected by a responsible, capable adult: me.
My brain truly feels like it has expanded: that new pathways have been formed. It is amazing to me that, in actual fact, "The brain begins to form new pathways purely by thinking"*. All it takes is courage to perform the steps necessary for them to grow: for us literally to grow in our understanding and connection with ourselves.
I feel that I can take a step back from the fear and anger inside on those days when these emotions threaten to be engulfing, as I now have a clearer understanding of where they come from. If I can talk to my frightened inner child or my wrathful inner teen and ask them why it is they've been triggered in this way, then I can have a better hold on remaining present and in charge - of staying the adult and not letting the 'kids' take over. That way, I can have more control over how I direct my life and where it is heading. And a lot more compassion for myself.
Love to you,
Lyra ♥
*Source: http://www.hypnotherapy-plus.com/#/making-new-pathways/4539053042
Monday, 4 July 2011
Shame, Sex and Alcohol
I had an experience at the weekend which I very rarely have anymore: I went to a pub!
I seldom drink alcohol myself and dislike the "let's all get as drunk as possible" ambience of most bars so I simply don't go.
It got me thinking about my relationship to alcohol and to people who drink however. To begin with, I enjoyed the evening and had a great time. As the night wore on however and most of the people around me got more and more drunk, it became less fun. Instead, I began to feel my sense of disgust rise. Being around people (particularly men) who are slurring their words, not even really knowing what they are saying, talking utter rubbish repeatedly, standing far too close or thinking you like the fact they put their arm around your shoulders when actually they look like they're going to fall over, fall on you or possibly vomit on you is not my idea of a good time to say the least!
In conjunction with disgust, it brings up a lot of fear for me too. It's the blankness behind the eyes - the knowledge that there is absolutely no reasoning with this person because they're not really there: they've jumped ship, abandoned themselves - and want you to deal with the mess that's left. As a child, my experience of alcohol was that adults drank it to have fun and sometimes they drank a bit too much but then they just went very soppy and told you they loved you more and laughed a lot. As a teenager however, this changed because my stepfather arrived on the scene. Instead, alcohol became something to be dreaded because it meant cruelty, emotional abuse, and him being in that abandoned, unreasonable state which was so terrifying. It also meant hanging around in or waiting outside pubs for him to have drunk enough so we could all go home.
As I got older, I went out - alone or with friends - to escape. I drank because I thought that's just what people did - I never questioned it - and also to numb the pain I felt. I danced in clubs for hours to release some of the pent up emotion which coursed through me at all times.
There are times I got very drunk and did things which I now feel embarrassed about - but in quite a gentle "ah the folly of youth" kind of way. However, there are also things which I feel shame about and these are harder to sit with and think about. Almost all of them involve sex. And this is not because I feel ashamed of having sex. It is because of the way in which I had it - and that had a lot to do with being drunk. It was all so terribly self-destructive. The complete absence of thought for my personal safety, never mind self-respect, when I look back on it now is deeply upsetting: it is a tragedy that I showed myself so little regard and abused myself with both sex and alcohol. For several years now, sex has been about making love - about expressing intimacy and loving connection with a partner in an emotionally connected way. Back then however, I really was a 'wild child'. If it had all been about free love and joyful connection, I would be ok with that (and of course sometimes it was). But mostly it was about trying to not feel so terribly lonely and unloved. And that's why the sex and alcohol went together: because drinking took me beyond my innate desire for love and respect and into connection at any price.
As I write, I feel the profound pain of that time and this grief washes away the feeling of shame, instead replacing it with tender compassion. I feel growing love for the part of me which behaved so badly towards myself simply because it was in such desperate pain - and was trying to express and voice that through 'bad' and 'shameful' behaviour. If, as an adult now, I saw a teenager acting this way, I would know something was wrong for them - that they were in distress. It is time to turn that insight and understanding towards my own inner teen and to show her the love and respect she so deserves.
Love to you,
Lyra ♥
I seldom drink alcohol myself and dislike the "let's all get as drunk as possible" ambience of most bars so I simply don't go.
It got me thinking about my relationship to alcohol and to people who drink however. To begin with, I enjoyed the evening and had a great time. As the night wore on however and most of the people around me got more and more drunk, it became less fun. Instead, I began to feel my sense of disgust rise. Being around people (particularly men) who are slurring their words, not even really knowing what they are saying, talking utter rubbish repeatedly, standing far too close or thinking you like the fact they put their arm around your shoulders when actually they look like they're going to fall over, fall on you or possibly vomit on you is not my idea of a good time to say the least!
In conjunction with disgust, it brings up a lot of fear for me too. It's the blankness behind the eyes - the knowledge that there is absolutely no reasoning with this person because they're not really there: they've jumped ship, abandoned themselves - and want you to deal with the mess that's left. As a child, my experience of alcohol was that adults drank it to have fun and sometimes they drank a bit too much but then they just went very soppy and told you they loved you more and laughed a lot. As a teenager however, this changed because my stepfather arrived on the scene. Instead, alcohol became something to be dreaded because it meant cruelty, emotional abuse, and him being in that abandoned, unreasonable state which was so terrifying. It also meant hanging around in or waiting outside pubs for him to have drunk enough so we could all go home.
As I got older, I went out - alone or with friends - to escape. I drank because I thought that's just what people did - I never questioned it - and also to numb the pain I felt. I danced in clubs for hours to release some of the pent up emotion which coursed through me at all times.
There are times I got very drunk and did things which I now feel embarrassed about - but in quite a gentle "ah the folly of youth" kind of way. However, there are also things which I feel shame about and these are harder to sit with and think about. Almost all of them involve sex. And this is not because I feel ashamed of having sex. It is because of the way in which I had it - and that had a lot to do with being drunk. It was all so terribly self-destructive. The complete absence of thought for my personal safety, never mind self-respect, when I look back on it now is deeply upsetting: it is a tragedy that I showed myself so little regard and abused myself with both sex and alcohol. For several years now, sex has been about making love - about expressing intimacy and loving connection with a partner in an emotionally connected way. Back then however, I really was a 'wild child'. If it had all been about free love and joyful connection, I would be ok with that (and of course sometimes it was). But mostly it was about trying to not feel so terribly lonely and unloved. And that's why the sex and alcohol went together: because drinking took me beyond my innate desire for love and respect and into connection at any price.
As I write, I feel the profound pain of that time and this grief washes away the feeling of shame, instead replacing it with tender compassion. I feel growing love for the part of me which behaved so badly towards myself simply because it was in such desperate pain - and was trying to express and voice that through 'bad' and 'shameful' behaviour. If, as an adult now, I saw a teenager acting this way, I would know something was wrong for them - that they were in distress. It is time to turn that insight and understanding towards my own inner teen and to show her the love and respect she so deserves.
Love to you,
Lyra ♥
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