I ... am ... enough

I was reading in Brené Brown's book, Daring Greatly, today during a few moments of self-care time, when I realized that it had been a long time since I had made time for structured self-care! Lately, I have been so frantic about doing what I do (wife, mother, employee, boss, daughter, sister and student) and doing it well in all areas, (what does it matter that I only get three to five hours of sleep a night? right?) that I didn't realize I was once more heading down the path toward co-dependency, or as I have been calling it, "doormat-itis." Or being "Champion of the Underdog."

I had been focusing way too much on what folks expected of me and on the standards others had placed upon me (which I was trying to live up to) that I had lost sight of who I was. Again. WOW that's a slippery slope!! I realized this as I was in the process of unfriending someone on Facebook who had given me yet one more standard or expectation to live up to, one which I do not agree with, and who then proceeded to attack me about some choices I had made, which this person didn't agree with. The person had listened to other people's version of things, and convinced themselves that I was in error and just needed to see the "truth" ... but... and just as I trailed off there, I caught myself spiraling down into the abyss of self-protection, crusading, and other self-defeating thinking. I was taking on too much, and I was taking things in my loved ones' circumstances way too personally because I was the white knight, the defender, the rescuer, the protective "Mama bear" who would defend her own. It was killing me.

Photo "Young Lady Holding Umbrella" by
imagerymajestic at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

 As I was pondering this while reading Ms. Brown's book, I came across this statement and it rocked me back on my heels! 

"We have to believe we are enough in order to say, 'Enough!' " (pp. 144-145). 

 My umbrella of self-care, my affirmations from when I was in therapy, my learning to let go, ... I had forgotten it all - and this "enough!" statement brought me back to those hard-learned lessons and made me remember three very important things: (1) I am worthy of love and belonging (as Brené Brown says), (2) helping someone is a great and noble cause, but when it comes at the expense of my own mental health, I have invested too much of myself, and (3) when I catch myself slipping back into those old patterns, it is time to remember where and what my boundaries are, and to live within them.  This reminds me that others have boundaries as well, and (as hard as it is for me to accept) other people don't have to like me or agree with everything I do in order for me to like myself. I had done all I could do in this circumstance I mentioned, and whether someone agreed with my actions or my beliefs or my choices was irrelevant. The only thing that mattered was that I was following my conscience and that I have remained true to myself. The rest is of no consequence. 

Am I going to apologize? Am I going to re-friend this person? No. I didn't do anything against my conscience, and others' opinions of my choices are not my concern. I don't need to surround myself with people who can find nothing better to do than criticize someone else over something that is none of their business. That puts them (in their minds) in a position of superiority over me, and then I try to assert my superiority, and so on and so forth. I am not playing those games anymore. Will this person ever change their mind? Probably not. But again, that is not my concern. They are going to think what they are going to think, and nothing I say or do will change that. 

I need to be courageous about this lifestyle of letting go, because all of my life, I was hammered into thinking that what other people thought of me mattered, and I became a chameleon and by the end of it, I didn't even know who I was anymore. I have been slipping back into that mind-set. I am going to stop now. I am done with being afraid. I am tired of putting on the junkyard dog mask to hide that fear.  

What I am going to do is follow something that a co-worker's sister made for her. She has some writing, white on black, on a little sign on her bookshelf - two little words in beautiful script writing - "Just Breathe." It reminds me to breathe deeply. And in that breath, I remind myself that I am enough. That I am worthy. That I am loved. That I am all of these things and more besides. That I need to let go of my need for approval. That I need to let go of the need to prove that I am right. That I remember to let go.  

What a relief. Maybe tonight, for the first time in weeks, I will be able to sleep through the night without nightmares or anxious thoughts waking me up. I sure hope so...

The Whole Elephant

A few times in the last school year, someone (student or professor or course designer) has made reference to the six blind men from Indostan trying to describe an elephant.  You know how the parable goes - the man who felt the ear thought the elephant was a fan, the one feeling the leg thought it was like a tree, the one feeling the trunk thought it was like a snake, the one feeling the tusk thought the elephant was like a spear, the one feeling the side thought it was a wall, and the one at the tail thought it was like a rope. Everybody was right, but nobody was.  They argued over which of them was in the right - when if they had just realized that each of them was feeling a different part and that maybe they could collaborate and construct an overall mental picture (or switch positions so all could feel what the other one did), they might understand more about what an elephant was. 

The graduate journey has been like that lately.  As my skill level grows and my confidence expands, I am getting more of a 'big picture' of what this profession is all about. It involves so much more than just sitting across a desk from someone.  It includes things like community involvement, networking, continuing education (i.e., staying current), and a continual process of self-reflection and personal growth.  The more I learn, even though it sounds odd to say, the more I find both my confidence and my humility growing. I am adopting what some post-modernist thinkers have called a "beginner's mind." That is, I have never fully arrived; there is always something to learn, and my perspective might not be someone else's but holds no more merit than theirs.

Photo "African Elephant"
courtesy of africa at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

In the same way, new developments at my job have put me in a role where I am able to step back and get a glimpse of a bigger picture than I had before.  I have been asked to fill a team leader role, which puts me into discussions that I had not previously been privy to, at a level that I knew existed, but didn't have any experience (or very little) with.  The timing of this is quite good, because I have applied to fill that role for real, and I may be invited to an interview for the position sometime in the next month.  My experience in that role will stand me in good stead in the interview, I'm sure. Again, my beginner's mind comes to the forefront: I have adopted a teachable attitude, and that helps me to accept instruction without becoming offended. At the same time, I am also able to see how my increased influence can work toward helping more people at a time than I could have in my team member role (where it was one applicant at a time).  I can still DO that (when I have time) and I enjoy it, but as a team leader, I can see the effects of what I do in a more global sense of the ripple effect that my actions have.  I see my role as of a facilitator - someone who makes it easier for people to feel valued and to do their work unhindered.  If that happens, they can do more work in less time - and the whole team is able to help more people.

All of this (present situation) comes just barely 5 months after I was diagnosed with diabetes, a diagnosis which literally saved my life.  I cannot imagine myself ever being able to even attempt all of the above if I was still feeling the way I was six months ago: bone-tired, dragging myself around, and with aches and pains from a Body Mass Index that was approaching 50 (30 is considered obese). At the moment, it's just barely over 40, and on its way down.  But even before it started going down, I discovered that taking my medication, eating more healthily, and getting my blood sugar under control took away that fatigued feeling, controlled my appetite, and gave me more energy. This was even BEFORE I started becoming a bit more active (and only because I had more energy, not because I was trying to lose weight!) The weight coming off has been a happy side-effect.  (Okay ... I must admit that fitting into smaller clothes - and having people finally notice the difference - really feels good too...) 

But getting back to my original thought: lately, living and enjoying life - more and more in the last year or so - has just begun to make a lot more sense to me. I am noticing that I accept myself and my personality much better, that I am more at ease with being myself rather than doing that 'chameleon' thing that is so counter-productive, and that people can like me just the way I am without all of that panic, pretending, and posturing. I am starting to shed that "don't hurt me" approach to life, and I'm acting as if I have a say in how my life and my future turns out. Hm! And instead of getting locked in my own little silo of how I see the world, I am beginning to see the value in trying to see things from someone else's perspective, even if only to more fully understand (and maybe adapt) my own. (I wonder if that's called 'growing up.')  

The whole elephant is coming into focus. It's not just a fan, or a spear, or a snake, or a wall, or a tree, or a rope. It's starting to look more like an elephant.  And it's beautiful. 

Standing up

The last year or so - at least the non-employment part - has been devoted to finishing my first year of a 3.3-year online Master's program in Counselling, which is designed to be taken by people who are working full-time and can't take 2 years off to go back to school. It's been a time of great learning and stretching of opinions, beliefs, and skills to the point where I wonder how I managed to survive this many years without some of the things I have only learned in the last year.  The experience has been nothing less than transformational. In many ways, it has been like I was taking life sitting down ... and now I am starting to stand up.

The first half of the school year was more about learning how to write to the standards expected of a graduate student in psychology, and to how to think critically (not to criticize but to examine the evidence and form informed opinions) about what I was reading.  I learned that I had opinions and that I would not be judged for them as long as I could back them up with hard evidence.  I found my voice; I learned that in my writing, I could start standing up. 

Then came the hard stuff!  

In the next course on infusing culture into counselling, I learned about the various non-dominant groups in Canada. We discussed various races, sexual orientations, faiths/beliefs, and physcial / mental abilities ... and we learned something about what each group experiences as discrimination by the dominant (that is, white, male, Judeo-Christian, able-bodied, and heterosexual) group.  I learned that just because a group is fewer in population does not make it a minority. In many places in Canada, whites are in the minority but are still dominant in the culture of that society: they hold the power and the privilege that being white (and / or Christian, male, heterosexual) affords them.  The course challenged (and yes, changed) many of my long-held beliefs and prejudices, and highlighted for me the privileges from which I had benefited all my life and of which I had been unaware.  It gave me a new appreciation for the reasons why so many non-dominant groups seem to be so militant and vocal about their plights.  And it opened my eyes in particular to the Canadian cultural genocide committed throughout the 1930s into the latter part of the 20th century:  the residential school system.  I have rarely been as horrified as I was by reading first-hand accounts of what happened to attempt to rid Canadian society of what was considered to be "the Indian problem."  It was just like reading the diaries of those Jewish people, or Jewish sympathizers, or homosexuals, who were sent to the concentration camps in Nazi Germany. Only ... it happened HERE.  In Canada.  That experience of learning in detail about these home-grown atrocities marked me forever.

Photo "Women Discussing Something Casually"
courtesy of stockimages at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

In the following courses on the more hands-on aspects of counselling, my practical skills were next to be targeted.  I learned that I already knew how to do what I would be doing for the rest of my professional life, but that I needed to be able to do it naturally and without having to stop and think about it.  The courses culminated in a three-week intensive face-to-face session in a city that was 3,000 miles away from my home, and at an altitude of over 3,000 feet above what I was used to living at.  I had my first taste of living on my own.  Parts of it were not too bad, and other parts (being away from my loved ones, for example) were abysmal.  Yet professionally, with practice at doing what I had wanted to do since the beginning, I was able to put the things I was learning into practice and watch myself not only do it, but do it well. My confidence grew in leaps and bounds.  Often I wanted to pinch myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming all of this!

But there was more; there IS more than just this one tiny piece of academia.  I have been learning some things about myself that I needed to learn, and that I have needed to learn for a very long time.  Some of these have been positive things about my own competencies and my own character - hence the increase in my confidence level especially over the last month. I have been learning that I have the right to stand up and to be counted among people whom I have just sat back and admired up until now.  It's a good feeling. It's new, and a bit strange perhaps, but it's good. 

And a few things that I have been learning about myself have been downright horrible.  These are painful lessons to be sure ... and things I will need to work on ... not just by myself but (I believe) they are things that will need to be addressed in therapy, since they are deeply ingrained in who I am, and in how I have come to define myself.  One of these things is my life-long terror of being abandoned, which has led me to become a chameleon with people, changing into the person I thought they wanted me to be, just so that they would like me. This has consistently had a domino effect on my relationships, because I can only sustain the chameleon colouring for so long. So, the pressure builds and builds as I deny my personhood and refrain from complaining so as to be around certain types of people, and then I explode! I therefore end up badly hurting their feelings when I overcompensate (in trying to practice self-care) to recover from the situation I created myself by just not being myself.  

That's just one of those things I am learning that will need to be addressed ... and changed. In a way, it is like I (because of fear) have been unable to stand up in the everyday situations of my life and relationships, and when I finally do stand up, it's suddenly, and without clear warning, and something (or someone) usually gets knocked down and could be irreparably damaged.  So I need help in not only standing up sooner in those situations, but in HOW to do that so that nobody gets hurt - including me.  

That's a lot of growing in just one year.  I know that in the year to come, I will grow even more, which I will need to do ... because after that, I will be starting to officially help people to find their own places of growth and healing.  It would kind of help to be able to do that from a place of mental wellness.  In essence, I need to learn how to stand up before I can sit down across from those who need help standing up themselves.

Moving on

The last time I wrote on Words That Stay, it was not long after losing our youngest child in a car crash. Even though life turned topsy-turvy in short order (!!) I found strength in love and faith ... serenity, and yes, courage to accept the things I could not change. Now, life changes rapid pace, and throws more curve balls at us. The university I was attending turned out not to be accepted by my province's counsellor's registration board (a fact that was downplayed by the university, hmmm). Which meant that I had to stop my studies in August 2014, and start from scratch somewhere else - and the place that worked out for me wasn't accepting new registrations for that academic year, but for the next one.

Further delays.

So, swallowing my pride, I applied in January for a September 2015 intake, and their decision will soon be made .. within the next couple of weeks. If accepted, the program will take 3.3 years. That's a long old road.

But, it will be slightly slower-paced, require more practicum hours (more means a better quality graduate, haha) and be way better on the cash flow (always good).

I've also been moving forward in other areas of my life (such as getting much-needed medical attention rather than "suffering through it" for a physical issue, and paying more attention to my mental health), and letting other things lapse. I've been releasing ambitions I once had that take up too much energy and cause me more stress than they're worth. I've been standing up for myself a bit more, as hard as that is!! And I'm slowly accepting the fact that not everyone has to like me and that I'm no less important just because someone doesn't like me (this is a HUGE step forward). 

Photo "Black Board" by
bulldogza at
www.freedigitalphtos.net

I'm learning again and again that friendship is something very precious, and that you don't surround yourself with people who are toxic to you or who don't understand you, no matter how much they say they care. 

This applies even if the label they say they wear is the same as the one you say you wear. It also applies to those who think they have a right to have a say because they're "family." 

Regardless of the calling card that makes someone think that I am just like him or her, or that we have a common history or affiliation, I'm learning that trust is earned and that not everyone is trustworthy. These are hard lessons to learn for someone who (at the core) is an idealist. 

I'm learning that I can trust my Higher Power to keep my confidences, to listen to me, to care about me and to go before me to prepare my path, whatever that path is. 

I'm learning to prioritize the goals that I have and to reach and work for those which are most important to me. All these things I feel I should have learned so long ago; yet, I am learning them now - which is better than never learning them at all. 

A fresh slate in the school of life is humbling, but it's also full of possibility. I wonder what possibilities are around THIS corner...

Accepting change

I've not written on "Words That Stay" in almost a year, mostly because life keeps throwing new things at me and I've been a lot more busy than I've ever been.

The last year has brought many things. I am looking at celebrating five years in recovery on February 28. It's amazing to think of how my life has transformed in that short space of time. I am so grateful because the "recovery lifestyle" I learned, and am still learning, has been responsible for everything that is good and special in the last five years, even during the hard times.

In May or June 2013, I decided to go back to school and get my certification to become a counselor, and in September I started my graduate program at an online university, where I spend at least 25 hours a week reading, doing assignments and participating in class discussions. When I'm not at school I am at work, working full-time, or at church, and occasionally at a recovery meeting.

In the middle of all of that, my youngest daughter moved away from home, tried to make a new start, and in a twist of events that can only be described as tragic, was killed in a car crash in late October, just as she was starting to turn her life around. She was 21.

I know she would have wanted me to keep on with my studies, because she was so proud of me for going back to school ... even though school was never a place where she herself felt safe. So instead of dropping out, or even taking a break, I continued on in her honor. I miss her so very much, but I can feel her encouragement when I am tired, and her joy when I get a good mark. It's like I have my own unseen cheerleader. ☺ ♥ 

The addition of grad school to my already-full schedule means that life is much busier. It's true that I'm spending just as much of my at-home time on the computer as I did before; it's just that now, I'm doing it because I have to, for school. So, my writing has taken a back seat for a while. Blogging has become something I do when I need to take a break from my schedule, or when I have gotten a little bit ahead on my studies. 

Photo "Winding Road" courtesy of pixbox77 at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

Change was never something I felt comfortable with. Not knowing what was beyond the next bend in the road was (and still is, to some extent) frightening. I like to have things predictable, and the events of the last year have really stretched me in that way. What I'm learning is that the only thing that stays the same is the fact that things change - and they can change in a split second. 

And it's not just events that change. Attitudes, thoughts, beliefs, knowledge, ... they all change, develop, evolve. As I've been studying more about counseling, I have been pushed to examine how I see people, how I see the world, and how I see myself. I've been challenged to accept people, to accept that there are different ways of thinking, and especially to accept change. 

My world is expanding. Things I never could see myself doing before ... I find myself actually doing, and liking. Things like listening to people, taking an interest in their stories, and letting them talk out their own solutions to their problems are all part of what is brand new territory for me. Oh, to be sure, I've done some of those things with my friends, but now I find that my skills are developing and so is my interest in more than just my own little world. I no longer have the luxury of being a spectator as the universe passes me by. I find that I have a part to play in that grand scheme of things - and as terrifying as that is, it is also quite exhilarating. 

Instead of railing at change (as I once did, kicking and screaming as I was dragged into it) I am learning to face it and accept it with the attitude that if it's happening, there must be some purpose for it. Usually I can see the benefit in it, as long as I'm honest with myself, open to whatever I'm being taught, and willing to take that first step. 

I guess it all boils down to faith, really. Do I believe that the intentions of my Higher Power toward me are good? Am I willing to put my trust in that, to lean my full weight onto that goodness? Or am I just going to shut down and cut myself off from all of the opportunities that He has placed in my path - cleverly disguised as challenges? As long as I trust His motives, I can accept change. Even embrace it.

Besides, I'm kind of wondering what's around that next bend in the road.

A Safe Place to Be

Recently, I marked four years in recovery. The day came and went, and all day that day I thought about how my life had changed in those four years. 

Tonight, I sat in a recovery room among friends - one where I hadn't been for far too long. When I walked in, I recognized a couple of people, and their faces (and mine) lit up when we saw each other. A grin, a wave, and a feeling of being loved, of those that were there being glad that I was there. I had not attended this group last week because of last-minute things, and had promised then that I would be at this Tuesday's meeting. 

And, even though there was another event that came up - I kept my promise to go and celebrate my recovery - to surprise those who were in attendance (only one other person was in the know) by accepting my four-year medallion. Amid the spontaneous applause and the hugs and handshakes came a feeling of true friendship, true fellowship.

Belonging.

The outpouring of love and happiness was palpable. These people had seen me at my worst. They'd seen me through some tough times, and they'd watched me grow. Now they were here around me to offer their congratulations and support for this new lifestyle I was living, a lifestyle that many of my former acquaintances - and even some family members - were less than thrilled about.  

My eyes brimmed up with gratitude. 

"Happy Family" courtesy of
photostock at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

I stayed while the discussion opened up and folks talked about one thing and another, encouraging growth by sharing their experience, strength, and hope with each other. There's nothing complicated about it. A recovery group - if if follows the principles of the 12 steps - is a safe place to be. You are free to really be yourself, to have fears, doubts, and triumphs: there is no judgment, there is no advice, and there are no agendas. Just acceptance. 

After I left the meeting room, I had another meeting to go to for a drama our church is putting on.  This one took place in a totally different atmosphere, but again, when I walked through the door, I was recognized by several in attendance; the nods and smiles, the waves and even a few hugs - as the meeting progressed - gave me that same sense of being loved, valued. The atmosphere (as I mentioned) was far more busy because everyone was milling around trying to find out what their role was going to be, but I felt like I was part of the group, not apart from it. 

That sense of belonging, of acceptance, was worth a great deal to me. It still is.

The theme song from a popular sitcom years ago is running through my head right now and has been ever since those two experiences. The last line of the theme song goes, "You wanna go where people know that people are all the same; you wanna go where everybody knows your name." (Where everybody knows your name - Cheers) 

That safe place to be ... is priceless. Everyone needs it; not everyone finds it. 

There may be folks who might take that for granted because - well, I don't know - because they're outgoing and because the social thing is easy for them. It's quite another for someone like me (introverted, socially awkward) to find such a place of safety. To find it in more than one place - well, that's unheard of. 

One might even consider it a miracle.  This "one" sure does.

Let Go - Let God

It hangs in just about every recovery room I have been in. Along with several other slogans, like "First Things First" and "Honesty" and "Humility" .... there it sits.

"LET GO - LET GOD." 

I used to think I knew what that meant. I guess, to a certain degree, I did (and do). However, the further I get into recovery from control-freaking and doormat-itis, the more I am convinced that I don't know what it is, because it appears I have to keep learning it. 

"Anchor and Navigation" courtesy of njaj at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

Or maybe it's just something that comes with practice. If so, I get to practice it. A LOT. 

Especially since getting into recovery nearly 4 years ago now. Stuff happens, and I'm allowed to feel what I feel - that part I'm getting, so it's not such a stretch for me anymore (even if it is pretty tumultuous at times!)  It's the "letting go" part that's never easy ... and the "letting God" part seems just as hard now as it was the first time!! 

However, the depth of experience I have been getting in that area convinces me that this letting go and letting God is the only way to navigate the storms of life, to ride them out, maybe even to be a little happier. I'm learning to own my own stuff and let others own theirs. That's sometimes really hard to do, especially when the current attitude and expectation of our society toward certain types of relationships (such as the parent-child one) tends to front-end-load them with a feeling of responsibility for the way someone else thinks or feels. 

It's an illusion. How someone else reacts to their stuff is not my responsibility. The outcome I want in his or her life is not my responsibility. It's the responsibility of the person with whom I am in relationship. If I hang on - even a little bit - I will end up pushing the person away from the very thing I so desperately want him or her to embrace. 

I know this - deep down. 

I guess I just need more practice.