Good Grief

Hello blogger friends! I realized today that it's been almost a month since I've come around to post, and I don't intend to make that a habit. I need this little piece of internet space to come to and think. I have found myself lately to be a woman of few words. I'm experiencing some very tough times personally and have been silenced by it all. I have enough sense to know that I don't want to speak doubt, discouragment, or anger, and I'm afraid if I open my mouth that is what will come out. Trying to speak anything positive or hopeful has just been too painful... just to be very honest. Thus, I've just been keeping my mouth shut! I feel tonight I need to break the silence with goodness.

I am realizing that having evil very near has made me especially keen to all the good that is near. Tonight I felt immense gratitude for a push mower that works and a yard to mow. I almost wanted to weep at it. I felt such joy cooking hot dogs for my kids, as if I were cooking the finest meal they have ever had. I am grateful to have a front door with a lock, water that runs both cold and hot, a running car, two beautiful happy children, and a home. Last night I slept beside a sweet loyal husband in a bed in a home I love with my children safely nearby. It's summertime and the cicadas have not interrupted a single outdoor activity. I've been given so much and have nothing but gratitude for every wonderful vacation I've experienced with my kids, every fancy schmancy meal my husband and I have treated ourselves to, and all the sweet luxuries of life that many people never experience. If I never experience any of them ever again, I can't complain.

I don't ever want to become too attached to stuff here on this earth. I can't take any of it with me, and one day all I've worked for will either be given to someone else or tossed in the trash. There are, however, things I can leave that can never be stolen or trashed, and God is reminding me to focus more of my time and energy in those areas. I have children who will carry pieces of myself and my husband into the world with them, and I hope to impart good to them. Everyday I encounter hurting people with no sense of hope, people starving for love and in need of healing. You meet them too. We're only given a short time on this earth and it passes so quickly. Let us love one another more passionately, more fully than ever before. Let us give away more of our things and our time to lighten someone else's load. Let us all think a little less about ourselves and a little more about our neighbors. Let us spend less time arguing and complaining and more time speaking words that will build someone up and offer hope. It is my prayer that none of you have to suffer to come to these truths for yourself and I pray that I never forget them either. I want to leave them here as a marker for myself!

Photo above found at:
http://browse.deviantart.com/?q=mowing%20the%20yard&order=9&offset=48#/d1koizq

To Every Thing There Is a Season

We have had a rough winter here in the Nashville area with a record number of snow days. In fact, many schools in this area have gone over their designated number of snow days, requiring students to extend their school year. Our first snow occurred in December, which is unheard of, and the wintry precipitation did not stop until into February. We're pretty spoiled in this area with the warm weather. It tends to stay fairly mild here throughout the year. It's not unheard of to have little to no snow at all in the winter. So, for us to get really SICK of snow tells you that it was a lot. Despite the harsh winter and all the previous years of bitter cold, I can say I have never had a therapy client come into my office complaining of despair due to snow, ice, or cold. Yes, sometimes we may feel our mood negatively and temporarily affected on a gray day, but I'm saying I have never seen anyone go into despair over bad weather. Why is that? Why did we Nashvillians not begin to wail and moan in utter hopelessness over the extremely cold and harsh winter we suffered? Because we know it ends! Winter always ends and spring always comes! It is inevitable. We've seen it happen year after year-- the sunshine emerges and the snow melts. Like clockwork spring always comes.

In Ecclesiastes we are told that to EVERYTHING there is a season. This means there is a season for depression, anger, grief, loneliness, and a host of other painful experiences. These things have their season then they end. They always end because we are promised they will end. They are confined to a season. I know that I begin to experience despair and hopelessness in the midst of a painful experience, when I convince myself that "this will never end! I cannot handle it any longer and it will never end!" I don't despair over winter, so why should I despair over other unpleasant experiences? This too shall pass.

Ecclesiastes 3

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.

Photo above found at:
http://browse.deviantart.com/?qh=§ion=&q=seasons#/djz251

Midwife to Tears

As a therapist, you know it's been a good week of productive therapy when you've gone through an entire box of Kleenex in your office. This is not to say that tears alone produce healing or progress, but I know that tears sometimes will break down barriers. I have many clients that all began treatment with me around March of this year and all of them are reaching a similar place in treatment right now-- hitting the core. It's been emotionally draining for me to help them contain the heaviness of what we are reaching. It never fails to amaze me, though, watching the human spirit heal itself. I am in awe each time it happens, kind of like the miracle of watching a child being born. It's really beautiful to watch someone travail in pain, produce a nugget of truth, work through it, and emerge someone whole. I love my job!

I wonder-- what is it about tears? I have seen some people whose tears seem to be meaningless. They cry over most anything, all the time, to no benefit. The tears have come to mean nothing and produce nothing. It's like they are stuck in grief and crying. That's a very sad place to be. More often, however, particularly with children, I find those people who refuse to cry. I can't tell you the number of people I have met in therapy who tell me crying is for wussies, both girls and boys alike. It's unfortunate that somewhere in their lives they have been given this message. It really requires great strength to let yourself cry. You have to have the confidence of knowing you can contain yourself within the grief. Crying is a release and, thus, a trusting that as you let this part of yourself go, there will still be a self standing once the tears stop. For most of us who have this innate understanding of tears, that they come and they go, we are able to allow them to work for us as needed. Imagine what it's like for those who never get that release and how terrifying it must be to believe you cannot cry for fear of losing yourself.

This week I've had the wonderful opportunity to play midwife to the tears of children. It's been such an honor to sit by them and coach the tears that have been welling for years. We have sat together in the quiet while tears crowned and spilled. I am so proud of these little people who finally felt brave enough to let that part of themselves go. They have learned crying is not weak. From a place of true strength, they have allowed the tears to do their own work. No one has been lost this week, but with the help of a box of Kleenex, lots of people were found. :-)

Photo above found at:
http://gemini-soul.deviantart.com/favourites/#/d2gav1c

Kids Gone Mad

I had a conversation with a colleague of mine this week, a psychiatrist who has been providing treatment to children for at least 35+ years. I was telling him about the difference of opinion I was having with some of my staff, regarding children who "act disrespectful" in sessions. I tend to believe that children should be able to come into therapy and feel free to say or do whatever they please during their 50-minute session. I have co-workers who do not allow tantrums or sass and are appalled that I allow that. It gets very frustrating sometimes. This doctor laughed at me and said, "We were debating that 30 years ago!"

So apparently this has been a source of conflict among psychotherapists for some time now. I don't think I can argue the other side with real conviction, but from what I understand, these therapists feel you are reinforcing negative behavior by allowing tantrums in session. For example, a child comes into therapy and begins to yell and curse about her Mom making her share a room with her little sister. There are some therapists who would say, "I know you're mad about this, but I don't allow that kind of language in here. It's not appropriate for a 12 year-old to curse like that. If you want to stay here, you need to calm down and stop yelling, so we can talk about this." One of my co-workers has explained to me that she is establishing "good boundaries" with this client and "I don't allow people to yell and curse like that at me, and this child is no different than anyone else." I can actually see the logic in this argument. It is perhaps teaching the child to get control of herself and emphasizing the importance of showing respect with adults. In this scenario, I would also say the therapist was calmly setting parameters for the therapy sessions.

Faced with a similar scenario, I tend to encourage the child's expression of this anger and may even repeat her words to show that I do not judge her anger. For example, after the child has made some loud "inappropriate" comments about Mom, I repeat it back to her with similar conviction, "You think that bitch is just favoring your brother again and you are very mad about it!" Often this diffuses children right away, because they're shocked to hear their therapist cursing. After several instances of this, however, the child becomes settled in knowing that their anger and tirades are not going to be shut down or judged, and they will express themselves freely. After several sessions of this, I've seen children gain a comfort in knowing that their anger is heard and respected in this room by this therapist, and the need to yell and curse about things tends to diminish. I think it's important to note that there has to be some realistic limits to what a child can do in treatment. These limitations should not feel restrictive and are there to keep the child safe and to protect property from being damaged.

I take this stance because I want children to bring all their ugly stuff into therapy. I want them to say the vile things for which other therapists might reprimand them. It's my opinion that giving a child this kind of freedom, allows them the space to bring everything that is inside to the outside. There we can look at it all without judgment, and children tend to sort it out for themselves. The fear of many therapists is that aggressive behavior acted out in therapy may transfer to the home or school environment. I will say that I have not had this happen. It seems that working freely through the anger in sessions actually decreases the need and desire to do it elsewhere. Often when children have been allowed to cut up drawing pictures of siblings or beat up dolls of Daddy, they have come back to me later and reported improved relationships with these people. Anyway, that's the debate!

I feel really passionate about allowing this sort of freedom of expression, because I see it work so well. I work with a 9 year-old girl who shares deeply painful memories of bullying and abandonment by Mom only after her puppet doll "beats me up" for about the first 10 minutes of therapy. I've seen another 10 year-old boy gain insight on his own about jealousy toward his sister, only after I allowed him to dump an entire bin of toys on my floor, toss them around for 40 minutes saying, "THIS is my anger!" With this child, all I had to do was stand by to ensure safety and validate as much as I could, "this is your anger! It's a lot! It's big and very messy!"

I have to say that, as a therapist, you must be really comfortable with your own anger to allow such expressions from other people. I've clipped some shrubs to pieces "working out my mads" and scrubbed some tubs to a sparkling shine while crying it out. I have to believe this has allowed me firsthand experience of physically kneading through emotions, letting them run through my body and my words until they are spent. Perhaps if a kind therapist had allowed and encouraged this from me years ago, I wouldn't have struggled with it as an adult. Nonetheless, my landscaping looks great these days! So, the debate "rages" on, so to speak, and I will continue to encourage my little people clients to come on in and let it on out.

Photo above found at:
http://nii-tan.deviantart.com/art/Tantrum-98119082?q=boost%3Apopular+tantrum&qo=56

When PTSD goes AWOL (PTSD, part 2)

I think the most common and troubling PTSD I tend to see is in teens and/or adults who have experienced trauma (often multiple traumas) and has gone untreated for many years. Over the years they have developed a set of behaviors aimed at relieving their anxiety, which often includes various addictions. I also see that what began as PTSD symptoms (see previous post for a listing) has morphed into a post-traumatic stress personality. There may be minimal PTSD symptoms remaining years after the trauma(s) have occurred and in their place is an anxiety-ridden, angry monster in denial!

This is not to say that everyone who has ever experienced PTSD has his or her personality altered. And I also want to clarify that technically speaking, there is no such thing as post traumatic stress personality. This is just the name I have come up with to describe this type of personality. Typically this is a person who experienced multiple traumas, interwoven/complex traumas, or trauma that occurred repeatedly over a significant period of time. These traumas typically occurred at a young age, probably before age 8, and no one (including the child or adult in question ) has linked these past traumas to present day feelings. Usually these clients will say, "Oh, that happened a long time ago. I'm over it." This client has received no direct support, validation, or treatment related to the traumas they have experienced. The client has likely presented for treatment around age 17 due to frequent assaults on peers and teachers, chronic tension with a caregiver, inability to form attachments, and drug use. Usually these kids have been diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder or possibly even Conduct Disorder (a disturbing diagnosis equivalent to Antisocial Personality Disorder for kids).

It is very common that these children or adults continue to have much chaos and drama in their lives, often at their own doing. Although they may no longer experience some of the acute symptoms of PTSD, the child or adult may engage in daily fights or sexual behavior that staves off the symptoms. The fighting or sexual behavior (or various other "delinquent" behaviors) have become reinforcing in themselves. They work! They keep people at a distance or get the desired attention. They provide immediate relief and maintain a certain level of required chaos. In some cases I see children or adults who seem to repeatedly re-create the original traumas. It is believed that many people do this in the desperate attempt to make right the past trauma. For example, a child who witnessed years of domestic violence may choose a violent partner as an adolescent, believing "my love will change him, this time it will be different, and I will feel BETTER." I also see adults who were victims of physical abuse grow up and have children who are abusive toward them. They have again become the victim within their own home. Another example is the child who was sexually abused who is highly sexualized as an adolescent and highly promiscuous. Particularly with sexual abuse, a child can have their internal sexual thermostat set to "high," and thus be easily aroused or sexually activated. We call this "sexually reactive."

If the adolescent or adult has developed an addiction in an effort to relieve PTSD, then treatment first has to deal with the addiction. This is very common. It is only natural that if you are experiencing intense anxiety, difficulty with relationships, sleep problems, or persistent hostility, you would want relief! Certainly you will get some quick relief from a drink or a hit of mary jane. Perhaps the addiction is one more subtle such as food, video games, relationships, or work. The addiction and the consequences of the addiction become troublesome themselves, wreaking havoc in the life of the addict. It becomes very difficult to address PTSD with someone who is afraid you're trying to take away their drug. Often clients are not open to the possibility of PTSD when the "drug" is keeping them from experiencing any anxiety. It is more likely that behavior and problems related to the increasingly dangerous addiction is what will lead this client into treatment.

Detox can be a piece of cake compared to the hard work of unraveling a PTSD personality. It is essential, however, that the client is willing to do the work of unraveling the knots of their personality if they want to prevent relapse in their addiction. I believe so many people go through drug treatment again and again, returning each time because they have never resolved the core issues of why they NEED to use to begin with. It is also very common that as clients go through drug treatment and "get clean," that they begin to experience years of repressed anxiety, grief, or anger. I'm sure this is probably not very encouraging to anyone who may be considering drug treatment, but wait! If you are at a place where you want to find true sobriety and serenity, the work of cleaning the old toxins from your soul is what will do the trick. We do not have to have our lives forever ruled by past events. We do not have to continue to suffer or engage in behaviors that stave off the pain. We may only be human, but we are strong enough to endure the work. Humans were created to both be hurt and to heal.

Photo above found at:
http://speeddevil141992.deviantart.com/art/Cutting-67927067

You're Not Alone

I will be very honest and say that I have spent large portions of my life experiencing deep pain or engaging in behaviors that distracted me from or minimized my pain. Only in the last few years have I gathered the courage to just settle under waves of grief until they passed, and I want the world to know I have emerged! I remember toward the end of some heavy grieving having the sense that this pain was like a large, dark, and heavy cloak just draped over me everywhere I went. It could not be shaken and I wore it all day. Then one day, while envisioning and experiencing this cloak of sadness, I took a step back and saw that this cloak actually covered all of humanity. It is the burden of being human and we all had our portion to wear at particular times in our lives. Stepping back even farther, I shockingly realized that this same cloak draped over all of humanity was nothing more than the train of God's robe, and that He was actually wearing the cloak! We were draped only in the train of it, while He carried its greatest weight.

This morning driving home, after dropping the kids off at school, I suddenly became aware of something odd-- the absence of pain. I am driving in my car in absolute peace, enjoying the morning sun, thinking no negative thoughts, and shedding no tears. There were mornings I dragged myself out of bed under the weight of the cloak and took care of my children under the cloak. I know the depths of sorrow. I am keenly familiar with hurting, grief, and remorse. I lost my very self under that dark covering, and today, I just want to thank God I am alive.

I know I have readers all over the world, many who have awakened this morning beneath the cloak of pain. I know there are people around the globe who wonder how they can possibly go through one more day like this. I am certain some of these people are hurting because they are courageously facing down their demons and engaging in the long process of recovery. I still have days, of course, when I feel down, and I experience moments of sadness. I do not, however, feel the heavy burden of suffering any longer. The dark night finally passed, and it will pass for others too who just keep going forward. So, though I no longer wear the cloak of suffering, today I come beneath it with all of you who still wear it. You are not alone. I am strong enough now to come help you bear the weight of it today-- here, come let me hold this with you today. I am with you in spirit, acknowledging the weight of this thing you carry. I walk with you today. You can do this one more day.

Photo above found at:
http://idsoha.deviantart.com/art/Best-friends-41599864

Two Sides of Fantasy

Ok, so you realize that you have been living a fantasy, believing a fantasy. The man, woman, child, parent, boss, friend, whoever, you loved is not the person you fantasized them to be. They are human and fallable like the rest of us, and you are heartbroken that this person will not save you and fill you utterly. This person cannot make you whole and will hurt you, because that is what humans do. Sometimes we hurt each other. This is the painful part of fantasy-- it isn't real!

Here is the wonderful side-- just as no one can fill you, no one can destroy you. We have no power over when and if people will leave our lives, but that is ok, because when they go, they do not take a part of us with them. Perhaps as children we had to believe that we wielded some magical power or seduction that kept people in our lives, because abandonment to a child can mean possible death. The good news is that no one can "abandon" an adult. You can simply come and go from my life, but I am no longer abandoned, because I care for myself. If you leave, I will not die. It is painful to realize that the person I invested so much in is incapable of fulfilling me, yet it is freeing to know that when you don't fulfill me, I survive anyway. I don't need you to fill me! My survival is not dependent upon whether or not you love me! This is the wonderful part of fantasy-- it isn't real.

Photo above found at: http://louvre89.deviantart.com/art/Like-A-Dream-89189225

Our Wounded Artists

Despite the fact that many of my friends and readers will be rolling their eyes and saying, "Jeesh, it's over! Move on already!" I just can't. Tomorrow, August 29, would have been Michael Jackson's 51st birthday. There is something about the death of Michael Jackson that stirs an anguish in me, an anguish that is begging to be named and brought to the surface. I don't intend to dissect the rights or wrongs of Michael Jackson's life. It's not my place to do that, but I cannot miss the brilliance and tragic irony of his life. It would be too great a waste, and I want to talk about it.

First of all, I believe there are many people, both living and dead, who are gifted in their particular genre of the arts-- people, who carry large sacks of pain from their pasts and from the generations before them. These gifted people, despite a lack of true personal identity or connection to reality, are able to delve into their art and there, touch their true selves. Deep within the arts they create are the touchstone moments of rejection, abandonment, and abuse. In their arts they are able to experience a part of the original pain of their lives and, thus, who they really are, both broken and whole.

Michael Jackson is only one of many people in our culture with whom we have witnessed this. We are a culture of abandoned, rejected, exploited, and abused children. We are a culture largely consisting of hurting children in adult bodies. There is something about the practice of the arts, whether music, dance, theater, or poetry, when done well, that sings the truth of our hurting culture. Now and again there comes an artist who reaches within the hurts of their own life and puts it out for the world to see. We see it, feel it, and the soul within it resonates with our own experience. I think for me and millions of others, Michael Jackson was able to do that. What then happens is that millions of us project our pain onto the artist. We also project our adoration onto the artist for his/her dance or song that speaks our truth and when we witness it, we cry out, "Yes! I feel that! That's it! You named it!".

I'm not certain what we, as a culture, can do to prevent these kinds of tragedies-- the tragedy of a gifted artist losing himself or herself within their art. Not only is MJ's death a horrible tragedy, I consider it tragedy that he lived with such suffering, physically and emotionally. The only thing I can think is that we collectively nurture and value our children, so that they grow up with a strong sense of who they are. In psychology we call this ego strength. If we can build children with good ego strength,then these are the children who have the ability to create and also stay within themselves. They will be able to create and not feel compelled to take on the pain of the world in the process. Children with solid ego strength can sing it, dance it, write it, and know it is a gift to God and the universe, not the sum of who they are.

So, I don't want to belabor this horrible event but really find some MEANING. It's necessary for us all. Whether MJ sang and danced the story of your life is not the issue really. Whether he harmed more than he rescued, I cannot say either, though I admit to a fondness for MJ and sincere belief that he loved children. I can say without doubt, however, that the pattern of his living and dying seems to becoming one that is all too common,and this hurts. This is the anguish of it.

Photo above found at:
http://lumenatra.deviantart.com/art/For-Our-Children-102164042

From Victim to Victory

Anyone who reads my blog regularly knows that I am a fan of feeling the pain. Go in it, dig in it, rub it all over your body, cry, writhe, scream, act a total fool and get it out. We've often kept quiet too long. We've hid our true sadness, masked our real anger, and been scared frozen of our own grief. For crying out loud (no pun intended) FEEL it. This is my mantra.

I don't really know exactly how long this process takes. From my own experience and walking with many clients through pain and grief, there seems to be a peak when the pain is at its worst, then it starts to recede and we're able to move. At times it is so painful we try to escape it through overeating, living out a rescue fantasy with a crazy partner, drugs, depression, work, whatever will distract! Then we'll go back to the pain until it is unbearable and start the escape process again. Working through pain is very messy. It is filled with stops, starts, and lots of damage done at times to our relationships while lashing out or completely withdrawing. There are sometimes periods where our work and family lives are put on hold while it takes every ounce of physical and emotional energy just to put one foot in front of the other for one more day. Nonetheless, we do make it through one more day.

The whole point is that eventually this does end. This horrible suffering is endured. Yes, it is. It is endured and it begins to recede. Unfortunately, I see people all the time who never seem to find this end. There are many reasons why this might happen. Sometimes people become stuck because they do not have the external resources to move forward. That is, they do not have social supports, positive relationships, or they continue to experience unfortunate life circumstances they set them back. Another reason people may become stuck is due to lack of internal resources. This is when a person may be fully willing to begin rebuilding a positive new life and they have no clue where to start. For these folks, there are little to no positive or helpful thoughts embedded anywhere in their brain that can be accessed during this time.

I believe a third possible reason people get stuck is they have adopted the VICTIM ROLE and are very hesitant to give it up. Being a victim actually feels good in some sense. When we are the victim, we can blame someone else for being the "bad" person. Look what he/she did to me! Being the victim requires little effort. We can just lie there, cry, and receive lots of comfort and empathy from people. This feels good and we do need that continually throughout our lives. Ultimately, however, we get up from our bed of ashes, take off the sackcloth, and decide it is time to take responsibility. When we stop identifying ourselves as the victim, we are forced to live life looking not at what people do TO us but rather to look at what are WE doing for ourselves. Frankly, sometimes we are just too lazy and/or scared to tackle this.

I have been a victim many times throughout my life. I grieve these episodes and validate them. I acknowledge the reality of what happened and the depth of the pain it caused. I gained a sense of self-acceptance and even self-worth by allowing myself the space to do that. What naturally grows from this is that self-love propels you into action. Yes, I have been hurt, and I am feeling strong enough now that I want to rise above it. I am nobody's victim today. I have not forgotten the past but I don't recreate it today. I don't even really need to talk about it today. My eyes are on the future and creating a great life for myself.

Jesus asked a crippled man, "Do you want to get well?" This man had sat by a pool of healing waters for years complaining that no one would help him into the pool. Essentially, Jesus said, "If you really want to get better, then GET UP."

If you are in your 10th year of grieving, cannot enjoy life, and are not sure why... well, gather your wonderful self together, organize your external and internal resources, and GET UP!

Photo above found at:
http://nihilistka.deviantart.com/art/Lazy-57658801

Joy and Pain

Hello all. I've noticed that I have neglected my writing here on my blog and I'm not really sure why. Honestly, I have just been so peaceful and happy lately that I feel I am losing my artistry! Most of my life my creativity has been fueled by pain and anxiety, so what do you write about when life is good? This is just a HORRIBLE dilema! I purchased a poetry anthology for myself that celebrates joy, and it was encouraging for me to read that good poetry can still be "happy." This is a very new thing for me... this happiness stuff... and I'm not sure how it is going to work for me. :-) In all seriousness, I am not naive enough to believe that all of life is this black and white-- there is either misery or joy. There's a large continuum and I am very grateful to be living much of my life these days on the joy end of the continuum. There is actually a place to be found, where one can hold both joy and pain and find contentment in that.

Surviving Withdrawal

It seems that one of the biggest predictors for achieving sobriety (from any type of addiction-- drug, alcohol, love, gambling, etc.) is the person's ability to endure withdrawal. Certainly there are people who endure the pain of withdrawal and, in a matter of days or weeks, return to the drug. There are even those who have survived withdrawal multiple times. I think the largest group, however, are those who never enter withdrawal EVER.

I have come to believe that enduring withdrawal is nearly impossible when attempted alone. It's just too hard and an addict needs accountability, someone there holding them to the sober line. Addicts turn to the drug/activity of choice to avoid emotional pain of some sort. The use of addictive relationships and substances helps stave off pain from the past that, at the time, we did not have the tools to experience. A neglected or abused child with no parental support is not equipped to emotionally cope. The pain of this remains frozen and forever delayed through addictions. When this person, at age 35, decides to stop the addictions, the pain of that event, and perhaps many other events, shows up presenting a bill. Withdrawal pain includes experiencing delayed hurts... thus, why so many people fear they cannot endure it.

If someone feels they are ready to endure the darkness and pain of withdrawal, then I encourage you to surround yourself with loving and supportive people beforehand. Cut back on other responsibilities and be prepared to show immense kindness and compassion to yourself. Be prepared to cry, rage, and talk, talk, talk. You may want to write about what you are feeling. You may want to exercise or read about what you are going through. Reading about the process is a helpful reminder that the pain of withdrawal is productive and useful. Be patient with the process and know this is only a season of hurt and will yield great rewards when endured.

You have essentially been dropped into the ocean with oxygen, a flashlight, and a compass and told where to go. If you freak out and continually come to the surface, you will never be able to complete this mission. At some point you have to accept that you have all the tools you need to get where you are going. Stay calm, stay in the water, use your tools, and keep swimming.

Photo above found here:
http://conh.deviantart.com/art/A-Snapshot-of-Life-14918632

Suffering is Optional

Why is it that once someone begins suffering, they never seem to stop? I'm not talking about going through some hard times or hitting a few unlucky bumps along the way. I'm talking about enduring abuse, abandonment, neglect, anxiety, chaos, you know, that kind of suffering. I'm noticing a pattern where those who have made suffering an art, often began honing this art at a very young age. By the time I see these people in therapy, whether they are teenaged or an adult, the suffering has become part of their personality. To suggest there is a life otherwise is blasphemy and almost insulting.

Even those who finally have the light bulb go on and decide they want the suffering to end sometimes have difficulty walking it out. Going from a life of suffering to walking in sunshine, smiling, finding the positive, making lemonade out of lemons... well, it's HARD. I have a client who has known suffering that some of us cannot fathom. She is an adult woman now, struggling almost daily with panic attacks, worry, abusive relationships, and tensions with her children. She has supports in her life that others don't. She has a good treatment team, a good job, and a nice home. Much of the crazy in her life is of her own making. My heart just goes out to her watching her hurt herself this way and I told her, "You have suffered enough. It's time to have a great life now. You deserve it. It's ok to start your great life." I think she's starting to get it.

Today I shared a rubber band with her. She and I put a colorful band on our wrists like bracelets. I explained to her that though she had no control over the crap that has happened to her for her much of her life, this is no longer the case. Starting today it was time to find the good. I asked her to flip that rubber band on her wrist every time she has a negative, critical, or anxiety-provoking thought. After snapping the band she would then say, "God wants me to have a GOOD life and today I choose that GOOD life." I agreed that I would do the same.

I agreed to do this primarily to give her a sense of support and connection with another person. What I didn't expect is how much this exercise has affected me. I have popped my own wrist about 20 times already today and by gosh, I think I'm really beginning to believe it... God wants me to have a GOOD life and today I choose that GOOD life.

Pain is unavoidable, suffering is optional.

Photo above found here:
http://jakrak.deviantart.com/art/Bands-20510905

You are My God!

I am a big fan of Steve Harvey's morning radio show. I listen faithfully every morning when driving the kids to school and am always in the car at the reading of the "Strawberry Letter." For those of you not familiar with the show, the Strawberry Letter is the portion of the show where Steve and Shirley Strawberry respond to a reader's dilemma. Readers write in with questions. I love the candor of these letters and though they seem off-the-wall, baby mama drama to some folks... well, it sounds like regular life to me! I have known some chaos in my life and work with people everyday who know the same. Here is a letter from one of Steve's listeners with my reply posted at the end. :-)

Date: 02/08/2009
Subject: Another Again

I am a twenty-four year old African American female living in a small college town. I recently received my Masters, have stable employment, totally independent (insurance, rent, car note, etc.), seeking to pursue my Ph.D., personality and physical aspects are up to pare, but I'm newly single. My ex and I recently parted due to "spiritual" differences. He claims nothing was wrong with our relationship, I just didn't make he want to grow spiritually. Sure, we want and need that, but is this a reason to end a blossoming relationship? Prior to our relationship, I had been incarcerated, I smoked and drank almost on a daily basis, I was promiscuous and I had a "situational" relationship with God. (Trust me; the above-mentioned are only surface issues). He was well aware of these facts, yet we started a relationship. I changed everything for this man. I began going to church with him (please note, we were raised under different denominations. He's a 7th Day Adventist and I'm Baptist), I stopped all recreational activities and I was faithful. He has been spiritually "stable" for quite sometime, but this was new to me. He asked for my patience (compromising, understanding, communication, etc.) and I asked for his in return. Unfortunately, I was the only one in the relationship to uphold the bargain. I've been in other relationships and the pain never felt like this. I've pleaded my case with him, I've spoke with our pastor, I've prayed till my words were without sound and yet, he vehemently states, we can't be together. (He assures me there was not and is not another woman. I believe him). He wants to be friends, but let's be realistic; you can't be friends with someone you love. It's been almost five months now and I'm still miserable. Sleep and a smile have become daily tasks and happiness is now an elusive concept. I stopped going to church (his church) because my heart can?t stand to see him, I feel awkward in my old church, and I slowly see myself easing back into my old practices. How do I mentally, emotionally, and spiritually get back on track? Another again

Dear Another Again,

Girl, I read your letter and my heart hurts with you. The pain in your words is palpable and you've so poignantly penned your hurt. I'm sorry for the pain you're going through, but I do have some encouragement for you. God has presented you with a window to yourself. He is giving you a glimpse of something deep deep inside you crying out to be healed! How do I know this? Because you are grieving the loss of an adult relationship as if you were a dependent child losing a caregiver... the depth of your pain is tellin' on ya. You are a grown adult woman. No one can ever abandon you, they can only come or go out of your life. If they go, you keep on living. I would encourage you to look back in your life at other people who walked away, write them down. Go as far back as you remember until you remember "the one" whose leaving changed the course of your life. You'll likely see it was a parent or other essential caregiver. These wounds tend to occur in childhood. And you did aptly name yourself "Another Again."

One of the first things that strikes me is that this man was interested in you when you were fresh out of jail with some bad habits, despite his spiritual exterior. He kinda liked his bad girl. Once you cleaned up and "changed for him," seems like he lost interest. Perhaps he saw some authenticity in you in the beginning of the relationship that endeared you to him? We all like authenticity in a mate!


Another thought, and I'm just gonna lay it out there, it sounds like you made this man your God and, therefore, when he left, your "spirituality" went with him. No other person can be your Higher Power. We set them up to fail when we ask them to make us feel good about ourselves or emotionally caretake us. Perhaps he felt important in the beginning with such a lofty role, he was your savior, your rescuer. In time, the impossibility of the role set in and the man naturally wanted to retreat! No one can live up to the role of God. They're gonna wind up exhausted and resentful and you're gonna be angry at how poorly they do the job (they're not God after all).

As you are exploring past patterns in your relationships, I would recommend these as your next steps: thought-stopping and re-building. When you find yourself pining over him, obsessing, fantasizing about him, you say to yourself (out loud if you don't care what other people think) "STOP!". Make a list of replacement thoughts you will automatically insert. Here are some I really love, "The universe sends good things my way and I hold them close to me, because I deserve it." "I am everything I need and have everything I need." "I am just right exactly as I am today."

In re-building, you are going to make a list of everything you would love to do with your life. Include projects you've always wanted to take on, places to go, friends you've wanted to contact. Your list might look like this, "Learn a new language, learn to knit, start exercising, join a yoga class, research new job opportunities, plan a family reunion, etc." Pick one and get started. Right now. Today.

Pictures by: http://myrthologie.deviantart.com/art/oneness-84975461
and http://raun.deviantart.com/art/People-Die-Alone-1521630

Clean Your Side of the Street

I woke up this morning thinking on this and knowing-- it's time. I've put this off for nearly an entire month now but my Higher Power is no longer interested in excuses, it's time for honesty. It is time to clean my side of the street. For the past few years I have developed the ritual of using the New Year as a time to do some inner housekeeping. It is my time to look back on the previous year and take an inventory of my contributions both good and bad to the disasters and successes of that year. I have learned it is especially important for me to find my part in the areas where I was hurt by others.

As readers of my blog know, my Higher Power is God, and I find lots of simple and valuable instruction in the Bible to help me with this process. Psalm 51, verses 1-3 say, "Have mercy on me, O God, according to your unfailing love; according to your great compassion blot out my transgressions. Wash away all my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin. For I know my transgressions, and my sin is always before me." For all other recovering Baptists, Methodists, or Catholics who feel an inner wall of defense rise at any Bible verse with the word SIN, allow me the space to translate into palatable terms. What this verse is saying to me: "God, I am willing to get honest and KNOW my mistakes. Here they are for you. It's been littering my side of the street and the job of cleaning it is just too much for me! I've been told you make this powerful cleaning solution that takes out any stain and that you've done some great work on other street corners, so would you mind stopping by today for a little cleaning session with me? Thanks!"

It is really that simple! Well, not really. The easy part is that God does the cleaning, the hard part is getting honest about each and every piece of junk lying out there on my sidewalk. This is my springboard for honesty and please do not be alarmed if this seems a bit much for the Honesty Beginners. I think of the instances when I was most hurt and angered by other people in the last year. Generally, I have already listed a lengthy and detailed inventory of every piece of garbage on THEIR side of the street. Now I take an honest look at my own part in that situation. How did I contribute? How might I have been particularly vulnerable to that type of situation happening to me? Did I make it worse? Was I quick to judge and slow to offer solution or personal change? Do I harbor resentment for what he/she did? Did I retaliate and make things worse? How did I enable that person to continue that kind of behavior toward me? How is my failing to take responsibiliy maintaining an unhealthy pattern? Ouch, ouch, and ouch.

There are several reasons why this arduous process is necessary. First of all, completing this makes me happy. Psalm 51 goes on to say, "wash me and I will be whiter than snow. Let me hear joy and gladness; let the bones you have crushed rejoice." Having a clean conscience feels so good. Secondly, cleaning my side of the street renews my energy to begin other important tasks, "Restore to me the joy of your salvation and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me."

"THEN I will teach transgressors your ways and sinners will turn back to you," explains Psalm 51:13. Translation: "after you get honest about yourself and ask God to clean you up, you will become a happy, peaceable person. You will become productive and willing to participate daily in honesty." When you live this way, other people in your life almost have no choice but to change with you. They are not put on the defensive by your assaults or criticisms, because you are keeping the focus on yourself. They see you happy and productive and begin to want that for themselves.

For anyone trying to figure out a way to bypass this process, let me save you some time, you just can't do it. Trust me, if anybody could have solved her own problems on her own with the right books, the right friends, and taking the class-- it would have been me. Your Higher Power alone is able to do for you what you cannot do for yourself and that is heal you of your own weaknesses. "You do not delight in sacrfice, or I would bring it: you do not take pleasure in burnt offerings. The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise." Psalm 51:16,17

So, I have a little time set aside today to go through the junk on my street. I am prepared that it is probably even worse than it looks from up here in my ivory tower, but I am not overwhelmed. I have a Higher Power who has been just waiting for the day when I would ask for some help in cleaning this. I've been told He has some great plans for what we can do with my little street corner.

Photo found here: http://thanhdad.deviantart.com/art/There-are-the-roads-50660601

How To Love a Girl, Part 1

http://darkness-in-the-lens.deviantart.com/art/Walking-Away-85412466

As a therapist, one thing for me that is interesting and sometimes difficult to observe is the development of lonely people. Because I work with both adolescents and adults, I get to see the formative years of a lonely, love-craving child and the end result-- the lonely, love-craving adult. The kids I work with help to keep me young and fresh. They remind me of those painful and adventurous years of adolescence. There is a song I really love by Beyonce, If I Were a Boy. I believe this song poignantly pens the difficulty of growing up and acceptance.

I'll begin with some basic definitions. The first term I want to define is Daddy Hole.

Daddy Hole: the giant empty space inside a girl or woman created by the absence of a father's love, presence, nurturing, and unconditional acceptance. This hole is painful enough to often drive the girl/woman to persistent and irrational acts in an attempt to fill the hole and end its aching.

Here is the second important term you need to know: Just a Boy

Just a Boy: a boy or man who has yet to learn how to love outside of himself; a boy/man who unknowingly and unintentionally hurts others due to his inability to consider other people besides himself.

You may see where this is going, dear readers. Allow me to make formal introductions here. Daddy Hole, meet Just a Boy... and this is how the romance begins. I see it so many times and have had the unfortunate experience of meeting a few boys myself! The Daddy Hole is so large, never-ending, and painful. Any girl who carries this can do nothing else but seek to fill it or at least put enough in it to stop the incessant crying and howling of the hole. This type of hunger and desperation often magnetically connects with Just a Boy characters. Just a Boy wants to do his own thing and feel good. Life for him is all about the pleasure it brings to him. He wants to enjoy himself 24/7 and though he may be an intelligent and kind person, he cannot live above his own true nature-- self-service. This is not to say he is heartless, and often Just a Boy feels a bit grieved when he knows he has hurt someone. This grief, however, is usually short-lived and quickly forgotten as he moves on into the fun that is his life. Only girls who carry a Daddy Hole will try to make things work with Just a Boy.

One day, however, when the planets are aligned and the molecules of faith are buzzing at the right pitch, the girl who carries a Daddy Hole is illuminated. Within the light of this illumination she is given a brief glimpse of her Daddy Hole, her desperate behavior, and the end result of her own life should the behavior continue. I have to believe Beyonce wrote her song while in this illumination. It is from here where a girl reaches painful acceptance-- you, Just a Boy, will never make this pain go away, you will never get it. She is forced by what bit of self-respect remains to let a loser go and begin walking the walk.

I live for the moments when I have watched a girl or an adult woman really begin to grow up. I had such a moment yesterday when my client told me she finally dumped a selfish, abusive boyfriend. After another tirade of abuse from him, he concluded his verbal assault with, "... and you know you're always gonna be my girl." Her heartfelt, genuine reply to him, after years of this BS was, "I'm NOT your girl. Hello, I'm done with you! You just keep running your mouth and you're about to find out what's really behind this pretty face."

Although these moments are triumphant and empowering, this girl still goes home alone. Sometimes the life of self-respect and living with dignity is a hard row to hoe. There are nights you will be alone. There are nights you will cry for Just a Boy, slipping into the old fantasy world of "maybe this time things will be different." When you've grown up, Sister Girl, you don't go back, because now you're a woman and he's, well, Just a Boy.

Anger Is a Lump of Coal

http://shaggyspad.deviantart.com/art/As-much-a-part-of-me-as-you-77207737


I believe there are two kinds of anger we experience. There is the pebble anger and the coal anger. The pebble anger is just that-- annoying little rocks that turn up in your day. Your husband didn't clean last night's dishes. Your child left her dirty clothes on the floor again. The traffic is ten times worse than usual and you are going to be late for work for the second day in a row. These are pebbles. They have no history attached to them. They are pure in the moment anger that is felt, is annoying and, in time, we get over it.

Then there is the lump of coal anger. This is anger that has hardened over time. It has settled deep in your gut and the molecules of it have changed and become more complex over time. This anger goes WAY back and it is much heavier than a pebble. You feel it with you all throughout your day. The other day a girlfriend told me she was having dreams about her rage. This is a perfect example of the weight of anger becoming so heavy and full, it begins to manifest in other areas of our lives. This anger that has become so full it can no longer be ignored.

I believe that, although coal has its good purposes, we would all prefer a nice shiny diamond. Here is where my coal analogy gets a bit more complicated. That anger became heavy coal under the pressure of years and suppression. That anger was pushed into a deep recess of subconsciousness for life-saving reasons. We do not consciously choose what gets repressed and what doesn't! If your mind has suppressed anger, then it did so with the loving intention of saving you-- and perhaps the moments when this happened were precious life-saving moments. Over time that repressed pebble grew under the mounting pressure of day-to-day. Other pebbles and layers of living piled on top of the anger until it grew and grew. Once that anger solidifies into hard coal, there are only two options.

Option one is that the hard coal remains hard coal. This seems to be what most of us do because... well, it's the easier option! This anger coal is a great source of energy and we draw from it to clean, create, cuss people out when needed, and generally work ourselves into the ground. When we do this, the energy drawn from that coal is the best you will ever get from it. The coal anger will remain as a heavy lump in your spirit providing an eternal source of rage and heat. And, rest assured, that lump of coal will grow heavier over the years so that your rage will always have a source of energy from which to draw.

The second option is to provide pressure to that lump of coal and wait patiently for your diamond. When you honor that anger by examining it and feeling it, the anger begins to transform very slowly. Look deep into that lump of coal and when you think you know where it came from, look deeper. Go deeper and deeper and deeper into that anger until you go to its very center, its very origin. This process can take moments or days or months. Be patient. This may mean that for a significant period you are a very angry person. That's ok. Keep going deeper. For some people, you may trace that anger all the way to its very core and find the father that abandoned you when you were only 4. Keep going and you may find in the center is the mother whose addiction destroyed your family.

When you get to the core of your lump of coal, you will know. It will sear through you and what you believed to be anger, you will find is really immense grief or shame. Whatever is there in the center of that giant lump of anger, hold it. Let the pain of it come, the pressure of it mount. This will not kill you. There is no scientific evidence to show that anyone ever died from feelings, though my clients argue this point with me often. You will grieve. You will cry. You will know yourself at a deeper level and then an amazing thing happens. One morning you will wake up and feel lighter. You will sense something missing from your very core, a large weight lifted. You will reach down inside yourself for that heavy coal you have carried for years and find-- it is gone. There, in its place, hanging about your neck in a spot of prominence-- a new brilliant diamond, sparkling and glorious in the morning light.

PMS

Let me preface this article by asking all my male readers to bear with me here. I absolutely believe this read will be well worth your time and encourage you to continue despite the title! I will, however, give you the upfront warning that I disclose a small bit of personal information in this article so please stop here if you feel this is too much for you to hear. Ok, let us commence this exciting topic...

I have been reading a new book, Women Who Run with the Wolves by Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estes. For those of you who know me, you are probably shocked that I have never read this book before, but it is true, I have not. I'll be honest, at times it feels a little hokey to me, and sometimes I have to go back and re-read something and re-analyze, process. The stories from the book are grounded in Eastern philosophies, archetypal tales, and Native American religion. Being a recovering Baptist, I am very wary of this and I think that is part of what is slowing me down. I have tons of rigid dogmatic remnants from my Baptist years-- no offense to any of you wonderful Baptist people out there (including much of my own family). I am fully grounded, however, in Jesus Christ. He has just done too much for me and proven Himself a Higher Power in my life. For me, Jesus is not relegated to just another wise prophet or a man with some helpful stories to guide me through the day. No, for me, He is the one and only true Son of God, no less. All other spiritual teaching that comes through my mind has to first go through this and what remains after the filtration can be kept. So, the reading of this book has been a bit arduous as there is so much to filter.

Anyway, I'm getting sidetracked. The connection between our personal psychology and our personal spirituality is so delicately intertwined in this complicated webbing, that I want to closely examine my psychology because of how it affects my spirituality. One of the wonderful things I have taken away from this book is her discussion about menstrual cycles. She points out that the veil between the unconscious and the conscious mind thins while a woman is menstruating. During this part of her cycle, all those unconscious feelings and beliefs bob closely to the surface of the conscious mind. This can be overwhelming and a very emotional time for us ladies. I really find this to be true and have sensed this happening with me for awhile now.

I was particularly aware of this process this month as I am just coming off my period. Experiencing those emotional 7-10 days was much different for me this month, much more bearable. I found myself with a new reverence for my own sadness and anger this month. Those feelings are not just random by-products of hormone explosions in my body. They are true parts of my very own subconscious mind. They are real and valuable, most importantly, these feelings are not random-- they are meaningful. So, this month I let them come rather than try to fight or suppress as I would normally do. I connected them to their true sources as best as possible. I listened to my anger which quickly dissolved into an intense sadness and fragility. I cried a lot this past week and it felt good. I grieved a lot and it really hurt and it really felt good.

My "PMS" was actually productive for a change. Now that I have experienced this, it makes me angry that I have been denied this wonderful experience of my own monthly cycle for years. I have been told by my culture to shut up, get over it, take a pill, you just have PMS. When in reality I am having my very own valid and honest emotions that MUST be felt and heard, not shushed. It is no wonder to me now that women in the Western culture report more intense premenstrual symptoms than most any other culture in the world. We are shamed for a part of our cycle that we cannot stop and that in reality is a monthly gift rather than "the curse."

I have to believe that as I experience this once a month emotional cleansing that a lot of junk is going to be tossed out from my piled up unconscious mind. The hope is that, in time, these feelings may become less intense, as I allow myself this cyclical gift. I believe it is possible we Western women can begin to experience our menstrual cycles more similarly to women of Eastern cultures. This is exciting to me. As painful as some of the emotions were that I have had to feel this past week, it is no less painful than the harmful repercussions I face from my own behavior when I act out these invalid and repressed feelings. Hooray for me and hooray for my period! :-)

Coming Out

http://gemini-soul.deviantart.com/art/S-u-r-v-i-v-i-n-g-70876677

In light of today's cheery encouragement from me to FEEL your pain... smile, it won't be so bad. :-)

When you are running--
a shadow of yourself running from
and to yourself
frightened by a ghost self
in brambles the ache scratches
your body when you try to escape--
when you are running.
Just stay on your feet.
Know the darkness in its fullest
reach into the deep of the black
pour the anointing of the pain over
your head.
Keep running.
This is not night that comes and
goes in cycles with day, this
is suffering. This is
your very self at
its cellular level expanding and
constricting in its own rhythm.
If you can hear me there,
know that light will come when
darkness inks away
a self will emerge cracked
still running. It
will be blinding just as
the darkness is blinding.
Behind your forest wall
steady follow this scent
thick with heavy evergreen.