Guilt Recovery Program

Hi All,

Today is Wednesday. Yesterday was Tuesday and was a not great day. Work was hard, my clients were pissed and ungrateful and blaming. I was tired and felt hopeless. I backed into a parked car after Seder around 9pm--and by the time I had driven home just felt done. Both cars were fine but the accident just seemed to really drive home the theme of the day which seemed to me to be Karen Sucks. As I lay in bed reflecting over it all, I realized that I missed my Dad and I didnt talk about it, not to anyone. For one of the first times I felt that I didnt want that to be the center of the conversation, didnt want to walk thru the sympathy, or attention, and so I just ignored it and hoped it would go away. Not only did it not go away but instead of the loss pain, I just felt artificial, and pretend, and sort of both plastic and disconnected. I realized I'd actually rather feel downright sad then feel like I'm pretending to not feel sad. Pretending it seems is not my strong suit.

I woke up this morning determined to not let Tuesday wreck Wednesday. (I would l say that some meta version of this is how I am running my life lately.) And so I took my shower with determination to not bring the Karen Sucks theme into Wednesday and then I decided that I would not even worry about that theme and just accept that if that theme came up again than so be it. Acceptance. My day was smooth, low key, somewhat productive and not...reactive. I cant tell you all how often my bad days somehow, somewhere involve reactivity. Often.

Today was clearly not yesterday. I'll say it again for both of us. Today was not yesterday. Obvious and suddenly so soothing. Today was not yesterday because it could not have been no matter how hard I might have tried to made it the same if I wanted to. And here is what I then really realized for the first time in nearly four months. November 22, 2012 will never happen again. I will never have to have that day or night over again. Never again have to have those conversations or feel those exact feelings. They are over. In the past. Done.

Will I feel pain? Loss? Grief? Will I feel angry? Hurt? Sad? Guilty? Broken? Will I feel unable to accept circumstances beyond my control? Yes to all of it. Yes. Almost definitely I will be forced to deal with all of these different emotions and feelings and thoughts because they are all part of life. The idea that this exact scenario is over though is something that I honestly feel sort of relieved by today. I mean, it is done. It has happened. I dont have to try or expect or wait. I just have to put it where it belongs--in the past.

Along with the pain in the past needs to go the guilt. The guilt is the thing. The pain hurts, has brought me to my knees, but is somehow finite and clean. Loss. The guilt is  different because it is not finite, is not clean, is somehow cerebral and heavy and thick. A few weeks ago it happened with me and the guilt. This moment that I now wonder if maybe happens to all survivors of a loved one's suicide...I had the clear thought: this was my fault and everyone knows it. There it was. I had felt bits of this thought before but never this certain. I felt so hopeless and sad in this moment. And then I knew what had to be done.

I had to say goodbye to the guilt not temporarily but forever. I mean I had to close the iron door on this unproductive, untrue, and destructive emotion for good. Guilt, it seems, is a luxury I just cant afford. Because this particular guilt could destroy me piece by piece from the inside out. I told myself, I'm done with guilt. Then I told everyone else that I could think of.  (Just like when I quit drinking, I safeguard myself by telling everyone my plan so I know that everyone can hold me accountable and being vain and sort of committed to living  with integrity this has been somewhat effective.) And so the guilt is over. No one has asked me if it is easy to stop feeling guilty or not? If they did I think I would say it is very similar for me to stopping drinking. It is not hard to do anything once we decide that we want to. It is the in between that hurts.

So if you are reading this and are going thru something similar I would suggest that you too try this. You tell yourself that this guilt is no longer an option. Self: guilt is no longer an option. Just like I once said, Self: drinking is no longer and option. Then you hold on for all of the weird shit your brain does to get around itself. While this is happening you find lots of other things to say and do and think about. And when all else fails you pray and reread why you thought this was a good idea. 3 weeks away from 9 years without a drink or drug. 1 week and four days without guilt for my Dad's death. One day at a time, baby. xxK

April is the Cruelest Month

Hi All,

April. It looms ahead on the horizon. Before April is the end of March. The end of March is happy. My daughter's bday, 6. The beginning of March is happy, my mom's bday, more than 6. But always there is April. Last April I cant remember. I have always hated April...too cold, too windy, not May, not even close to May.

I am not sure what to say about things lately. My job is so busy. I have been there long enough to see the good and the bad. The easy and the hard. It is good though and solid and real. It means something to me this place and these people. It means something to be at a shelter.

And my children are good and beautiful and perfect. Nearly 6 is a brilliant age all freckles and eyes and questions. Sometimes I am not sure how or why I was given these miracles. And 4 so sharp and wide eyed and earnest. It is too much sometimes to live with their goodness and innocence. It forces me open, to be present, and then there I am present and open and unable to protect myself from the pain that inevitably arises. I remember. November. April.

April is my Dad's birthday. I try to remember his birthdays that I spent with him, but I cant. Sometimes I remember good things and I am happy but mostly I just have the picture in my head. I try to alter the picture. Latelty I have been trying to imagine him jumping off of a bridge and flying into the sky with big wings soaring, free, happy. Sometimes this works. The other times it is just the picture.

I try to be of service to others and sometimes I think maybe I am. I try to do the right thing and sometimes I do. I try. I want to do better or more. I want to fix things or change things. I want people, all people, everyone to know this was my Dad and he is gone. I want them to feel the loss. I want them to understand what happened to him, to me. I want just one person to feel differently about things because of this...

And that is that. The way it is tonite. xxK

 

A year of Surrender

Hi All,

Tonite I spent time listening to some pretty smart people talk about surrender. I admit it, surrender is not my strong suit. In fact, I think that lately I might actually hate the word itself. And hate in this case is not too strong a word. In the first few days and weeks after my Dad took his own life I was numb and then dazed. I could not quite get myself to face what had happened which seems strange since I thought about it all of the time. I was in a constant state of unpleasant visualizations coupled with a mind that seemed unable to accept those pictures as real.

Having done my share of a therapy and having been lucky enough to have not one but two amazing therapists to work with, I know and have known for sometime that my  proclivity towards replaying images and thoughts does not serve me well. So, I tried to stop the pictures and mostly did or at least lessened them. Change the channel I would hear my therapist saying or move a muscle change a thought I would hear my friends say. Distraction is a good thing during these times. But the truth is and was that even though my obsessive mind does not serve me, the pushing out of all of the thoughts does not always serve me either. I need to find a  place in the middle. A safe place.

I read that Einstein said that our most important thought was if we believe that we live in a hostile or friendly world. I read this in another article that I sought out after hearing someone speak tonite on Surrender. This woman said she is spending a year with the idea of surrender. This idea spoke to me. I thought of myself at times actually unable to speak the Serenity Prayer in meetings. Here are the words I cannot say:

God, Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

Generally, I can muster the courage to speak the courage portion but it is the acceptance part, the first part that even still sometimes chokes me up. Who knew I'd be come a person unable to speak the phrase to accept the things I cannot change without crying or feeling like I might. This is where Surrender enters the picture. I find myself stuck at a crossroads who will I become with this new experience? An angry person? I sad person? A broken person? A scared person?

Though I confess to often being all of those things lately it is not who I want to be and it is not who I will allow myself to be. At some point I need to...surrender. At some point I need to accept that this event has happened and like all other events that have happened and will happen--I believe--it was meant to happen and I cannot continue to feel I should have or could have done something different to alter it. After all, who am I to know how things should be. All I seem to know is what hurts and how to protect myself from that pain. Only the protection is not real and only protracts the pain.

So I will say this...inhale the pain, let it fill me up, let it break me open, and swallow me whole.  Pain like a wetsuit heavy and black and slippery all over me. Keeping me safe from more pain. Protected. Insulated. Alone. It is so tempting to give into it because I am tired and scared but I wont do it. I will do the opposite. I will step out of this heaviness, scared, naked, and willing to surrender to this friendly universe that I will trust and love because I dont have a choice. xxK