Things have certainly changed

The sun is shining on this clear, crisp fall morning. It’s been a busy week, with several morning appointments. This morning I have the luxury to move slowly, hang out in my pyjamas, drink coffee, and relax. I don’t have to go to work until the afternoon.

My birthday isn’t until next Friday, but today I’m in a reflective mood. I’ve now been working for exactly one year. Since then, I’ve moved out of the house I shared with my husband and gotten my own apartment — for a time-out after 24 (no adjective) years, enrolled in a three-year training program to enhance personal development as well as vocational prospects, and I’ve finally gotten in touch with my heart and have a better picture of how I want and need my life to be.

Clarity has made its entrance, and I want it to hang around for a while. It provides me with a different approach. The scattered fragments of my life and being are falling into place. Things start to make sense, and I feel more (whole) than I have for a long time!

There are still mistakes and aspects of reality which are rather painful, but the relief from taking the necessary steps to reinstate my integrity and emotional well-being certainly make it worth it. This is a process, and these are further steps along the way. Meanwhile, my relationship with my daughter has been in the process of healing, and for that I am extremely grateful.

Recently I have experienced the fear and uncertainty that accompany an unsettling financial situation. Yes, it is indeed frightening, but I tell myself that all will work out for the best — I just don’t know what that looks like. Thus I may not recognize what is best, since it appears to be rather difficult at the moment.

The season of adjusting to the new apartment has passed. I spent countless evenings mellowing out on the balcony — with a glass (or two) of wine and a cat or two. I started and stopped smoking a few times. Even though I know better, it was too tempting to resist: What a pleasure to sit on my own balcony at all hours of the night — drinking, smoking and thinking, and knowing that no one would come outside with a disapproving frown on his face and ask with visibly strained patience when I was finally going to bed.

So, yes, it has been a time of chilling out and numbing out. It wasn’t exactly admirable behavior, but I gave myself permission to be “bad” for as long as necessary. However, I didn’t really consciously give myself permission until a few weeks ago, and that’s when the need began to diminish. It was helpful to tell myself that I could do what I wanted to do and enjoy it. I knew it wasn’t a permanent condition.

Sure enough, the fresh air and hope of the fall air have invigorated me with the desire for a clear head and the ability to breathe freely, and so I am once again able to let go of alcohol and nicotine. No, I didn’t drink and smoke excessively, but it was enough. It is humbling to recognize and admit that no matter how much recovery I have “in the bank”, it’s still about one day at a time, one step at a time, and the willingness to let go. I won’t elaborate, but trust that this insight is good for something! If nothing else, a lesson in humility is always helpful.

And so this life year draws to an end. There are new insights, new projects, new goals, and new friends to accompany me along the path. I am very much in the process of change and growth. It is overwhelming at times, but I just remember to go step by step, to breathe, and to trust that all is as it is meant to be. That’s it.

One Year Old

I’ve been so busy, that I only now noticed that I started this blog one year ago in February! So, somewhat belated, I would like to thank all of my readers for their support, comments, and emails. Thank you for shared confidences, for your trust, and for your encouragement. I’ve had my up and down moments during the course of the year and greatly appreciated the feedback along the way.

Thanksgiving

Oh, I nearly forgot! We don’t celebrate Thanksgiving in Europe and yesterday I was kind of busy. But this morning, it occurred to me that Thanksgiving has always had a rather unique meaning in my life. It was Thanksgiving of 1975 that I first “succeeded” at throwing up. Boy, was I pleased with myself! I had no idea that I had taken the first step into a 13-year eating disorder that would screw up even more of my life. (Things were already somewhat screwed up. Otherwise, I would not have grasped for an eating disorder to serve as a coping mechanism.) Then it took another 13 or so years to recover emotionally as well. What an ordeal! Oh well, to each his own.

I am grateful now for 20 solid years of recovery. When I first started with recovery, I didn’t think it would last that long. In fact, by the time I got started on the “final” recovery, I had long given up expectations of such a concept. All I wanted to do was learn to eat normally and to minimize the bingeing. By that time, I had learned to accept relapses. The goal became: to make the most of each day, and not beat myself up if I screwed up with the food. I could always start over, and that’s what I did.

Since moving the attention from food to life, other issues have come up. Struggle with food is very tangible. Now that the focus has shifted to invisible things (feelings, emotions, conflicts, disappointments, decisions and such things), there is a lesser degree of clarity. It’s easy to say I ate well today and that’s it. When I deal wtih the invisible, not so definable things, I tend to get confused or become unsure of myself. There is so much new territory, and no one in my immediate environment to encourage me. (On the contrary, there tends to be mostly resistance.) Yet I keep going.

Last night I hit another low. Once again the questions: What am I doing? What’s the purpose? What am I waiting for? Is it really necessary to wait? Am I being responsible or stupid? How could I have made such a mess of things? There’s nothing like a good night’s sleep. I’m not bouncy and cheerful, but this morning I am looking more clearly at plans and timetable for the next couple of years. I’ve gotten to be good at having faith and trusting in the universe, but during such long stretches I need to replenish hope. It helps to set up some kind of game plan or goal. Even if it doesn’t turn out that way (as things often turn out completely different than I expect), it gives me some perspective.

What to do? Thanksgiving is over, but today I will give thanks anyway. I am thankful for this life, for my children, for recovery, for coming this far, and for all the gifts I have received thus far — even if I didn’t appreciate all of them at the time. Today I am grateful that I have a messy room that needs to be cleaned, and lots of laundry that needs to be done. That’s more than a lot of people have.

While I’m doing those tasks today, and as I clear through the chaos and bring a semblance of order to my surroundings, I will focus on prayer. Lately I’ve felt the need to reconnect and ask for help from my higher power. I don’t need to hit bottom to ask for help. During the worst of times, I wrote letters to God in my journal. Part of recovery is learning to be less extreme. That means things don’t have to be totally unbearable before I am willing to work for change. I am grateful for that realization.