This is a monthly recovery update because this is so insane, what's happening to my brain and body and life, that I don't to forget it and I want other people to know what's possible.
Stage: Rest/Functional
This month, I've seriously stepped up studying meditation and mindfulness, as well as beginning to pray again. Highlights have included our sans-kids camping adventure in Idaho, starting to draw again, resting, more rest, and some rest. The desire to rest has surprised me; I didn't see that coming. I'm trying to go with it and not freak out, not think we're back in 2016 with numbness and daily napping.
No, this feels different.
I am not making many plans as exploring myself, my mind and body at peace for the first time since I was running around on a playground seems like the headlining event for a while (hahaa... pun intended).
All of this combined w/ some serious deep-diving into minimalism has meant that the daily fabric of my life is getting shredded. I think it's wise when a vast majority of how you used to think and spend your time is radically changing, and if that where to happen to you, you might not want to rush out and get involved in whatever other fresh hot mess is the thing of the day.
I'm stable enough now to be welcoming the changes but it's happening so fast, I'm glad the stability is there. I'm able to think again and at least step back and watch it unfold. Until really a few months ago, I was still pretty frozen and numb. Feelings were starting to come back but I wasn't thinking much. Things continued to be pretty unstable at work and then the always-present hyper-vigilance makes life unstable, regardless. (I recently asked my husband if he noticed that I was getting better. His reply, ""You still have a very active mind, but things are moving in the right direction." That guy. And "active mind", bonus points to my Aspie husband for flexible word choice).
This month was also the beginning of finishing my timeline and starting to go through it with the Lifespan Integration work. It's exhausting. I think that's why the resting is happening. I am tired again and also, it's producing such peace in my mind that I just want to marvel in it. I should hang a sign around my neck that reads, "Don't mind me: I'm just detoxing from 40-years of hyper-vigilance."
A side effect of the lifespan work is just not a real desire to do much. I'm doing a few new things here and there but just doing daily chores feel enough or all I want to do. Looking over my calendar, I guess that's not bad considering I was eating take-out every night and watching Harry Potter movies all day at this time last year. Progress looks like some kind of stiched-up blanket, comfortable, but not shiny.
There are some basic guidelines K has offered on how the process goes but I realize no one knows how each person will respond. There is no real formula and no exact way this will unfold. That reality has taken a while to sink in and for a time, produced it's own anxiety. "Am I doing this right? When will I know it's working? What tool should I use?"
There has been a lot of responses from K having to do with checking in with yourself each day and drawing on the tool or tools you need for how you're feeling. This feels intuitively correct but was almost out of my grasp to do, at least initially. The way my brain has been wired, that has felt, until recently, way too unwieldy and trusting in myself too much to know what's 'right'. Ah, what's right. What a trap that's been.
Therapists have a tough job. Their clients need to get to a stable place that allows them to begin making better decisions. But those better decisions have to be made w/ the brain that is not working right. I can see why progress can be illusive.
I read an interview a few weeks ago about someone attending one of Rob Bell's events in his Bible Belt tour. (I LOVE THIS GUY. One of my favorite things all along for years, especially after he moved back to California, was is he just isn't asking for permission. He is just blowing it back and doing the work. But I digress).
In the interview, one woman standing in line made this quote about what she was moving away from, religiously:
"I think I would have probably ended up in a mental hospital or committed suicide," she said, referring to the religious treadmill she had been on.
This did not sound irrational to me. The teaching of the mainline evangelical church has rendered many of us with a non-existent or shredded sense of self, to where when real life events happen, you have no true coping skills or mature faith for the journey. Thoughts loop around that create more anxiety: "God loves me. Jesus died for my sins. Pray more." None of this really helps outside the context of a mature belief system.
The effect of this teaching on people depends on numerous variables too varied or complex to list. As a result, how one responds to this training depends a lot on those variables: your personality, environment, family, resiliency factor, etc. For some of us, this type of teaching has led us to truly wonder about life itself.
So yes, to the woman in line at the Rob Bell event, YES. It can feel that bad, that scary, and to hear one other person say those words helped me realize that moving into some rest time in Year 2 of the Great Recovery isn't quite that bad after all.
No, not at all.
Extended gap year at age 50. I like the sound of it.