Letting go takes love.

To let go does not mean to stop caring,
it means I can't do it for someone else.
To let go is not to cut myself off,
it's the realization I can't control another.
To let go is not to enable,
but allow learning from natural consequences.
To let go is to admit powerlessness,
which means the outcome is not in my hands.
To let go is not to try to change or blame another,
it's to make the most of myself.
To let go is not to care for,
but to care about.
To let go is not to fix,
but to be supportive.
To let go is not to judge,
but to allow another to be a human being.
To let go is not to be in the middle arranging all the outcomes,
but to allow others to affect their destinies.
To let go is not to be protective,
it's to permit another to face reality.
To let go is not to deny,
but to accept.
To let go is not to nag, scold or argue,
but instead to search out my own shortcomings and correct them.

To let go is not to adjust everything to my desires,
but to take each day as it comes and cherish myself in it.
To let go is not to criticize or regulate anybody,
but to try to become what I dream I can be.
To let go is not to regret the past,
but to grow and live for the future.
To let go is to fear less and love more.

Remember..the time to love is short.

They say there's linings made of silver.

"How do you explain broken?" she whispered quietly into the darkness.
Because in her mind there were no words that could ever adequately begin to capture the emptiness she felt.
An emptiness so deep, and dark, the blackest water of the ocean floor looked like the sun in comparison.
It was like she forgot how to feel, how to think, how to breath, how to function.
And yet she continued to exist.

Pushing away any memory that crept into her thoughts, burying them so deep, she doubted she'd be able to find them again.
But the demons, no matter how she tried she could not rid herself of them.
It haunted her relentlessly.
Refusing to dissipate, refusing to lose its clarity, they stayed.
And so she slipped deeper into the blanket of pain that engulfed her, fell deeper into the oblivion that held her.

But slowly, ever so slowly, she rose to the surface.
Inch by inch her soul came closer, closer to feeling the warmth of the sun again.
She grew stronger and stronger, fortified by her affidavit that this was the last time she'd feel this way.
She would not turn around.
She would not give away the ground she'd fought so hard to win back.

Because for the first time in a long time,
she felt like a person. Her own person.
And after all this time,
she finally liked who she was becoming.

trust

Trust.

Last night, I had one of those amazingly lucid light bulb moments 
that seem to come far and in between lately, with the lights in my brain
kind of flickering on and off due to a multitude of distractions.

I was having a conversation with someone and I suddenly 
realized that I questioned whether or not I trusted this person.
It was a weird sequence of events. I started thinking that I didn't trust them 
to behave rationally and in the healthiest manner when it came to conflict. 
And then, suddenly, I had a flashback to someone essentially
telling ME the same thing. That I was unable to be trusted.
Then, the light bulb went off. I suddenly understood that my own definition
of trust and my defensive reaction to being questioned in the past
really stemmed from not understanding the true meaning of what it is to trust someone.

In addiction, trust is not the most prominent trait in those who are afflicted.
Personally, I have had one hell of time learning to trust myself.
In the past, I've lied, made up reasons and justifications to fit my own behavior.
Trusting myself came far down the list of reasons not be so self-deprecating.
And in turn, I rarely paid attention to the actual meaning of trust as
it applies to emotional well-being. When I was told I was not trustworthy,
it was so much more than just not stealing or lying, my own interpretation.
And, because I was so defensive when told, I never even bothered to ask
for a definition as it related to a given situation. I sit here and shake my head
at my absolute ignorance.

I spent some time looking up various definitions of trust;
confidence, absolute certainty in trustworthiness of another, belief, faith, reliance.

Whereas my definition of trust bordered on naivety (you trust someone not to steal
your belongings), I suppose it's been defensiveness that has not allowed me
to look at myself and what others could possibly interpret trust as.

I see now that trusting someone means that you know that they
will be able to handle themselves with rationality and strength. That trust
comes with being open to someone else and learning what their needs are,
communicating fears and hopes without defense or reaction.

I'm simply amazed that I just never got this. I've had it explained and talked
about so many different times in so many different types of relationships.
I just adamantly refused to acknowledge that trust comes deep within and starts with oneself. 
What an exhausting epiphany it's been in the last twenty four hours!

And so begins the process of just trusting the emotions I have first
and foremost. That my strength and will to be in my life will manifest itself
through the actions I take. That when things get bad, I am fully capable
of handling a situation with the grace and esteem that I have truly come to possess.

And in doing so, trusting others will be a constant shining instead of 
the flickering light that's been in serious need of a bulb change.

The porch.

Just about 9 years ago, I used to sit on my front porch while in the throes of my early days of being consistently inebriated, waiting. I was waiting for the inevitable to happen; for my parents to come back. I would sit and wait and count cars for hours. It was quite possibly one of the most miserable periods of my life. I had made bad choices. I was lamenting over and over the years I spent spiraling down faster and faster. I was so far removed from being healthy because I was in so much pain.

I remember the pain from this time, it's been creeping up on me over the last week for a variety of reasons. I can still feel the angst of being emotionally comatose because I was simply so lost within my miserable life. I blamed everyone. I wished for a life that I didn't really want in the first place. I took anything and everything personally. I spent time in relationships that never should have happened. Love eluded me. Life confused the hell out of me. And to boot, I was always in a state of self medication.

And I would just sit and watch my life go by, wondering when something would happen to change it. Ha, good luck, I think now.

Fast forward to yesterday, I sat on a different porch last night watching the sunset. I felt a resurgence of this waiting as variables have come into play that remind me of my old life so many years ago. The thoughts of years ago have been forefront and I am amazed at how aware I've become at recognizing them. This time, I was on the porch reminding myself of where I am in my life. Where I've come from. No longer am I waiting for my life to pass by but rather letting those things that are no longer conducive to good health simply pass by my transom. It's refreshing to know this.

And it's amazing to know that my life isn't passing by at all.

The demise.

As there are many cycles in our lives, I find one cycle within sobriety that has been resonating over and over again in the last year. Over the last few weeks, I have been dealing with my ever questioning state of sobriety with a scowl and intermittent indifference. The cycle of questions that force me to look at where I am in my life and what I truly need to be happy and content with the decisions I make. Formulate a plan. Let go of the past. Live life with gusto. Be sober. Be happy. And my addicted self, all the while, is hanging on my back like a bad relationship causing great distress.

The reality is, I am simply growing extremely tired of not being able to truly let go of all the baggage that came with the person I had been. Tired of writing and talking about letting go when, in fact, it hasn't happen on the level that I am seeking. My resistance to let go and just be who I am causes great frustration. And that, in turn, leads me to quickly blame sobriety and how miserable I may perceive it to be. It's an incredibly vicious cycle and one that, if not rectified, can lead to allowing the addicted self to take over.

Not good.

Yesterday, I cried for about an hour sitting at the computer unable to write anything about being sober. I just didn't have the desire to write about it. I've been avoiding it altogether because, again like a bad relationship, my addictive self has been screaming at my sober self a lot lately. And the noise is driving me batty.

Last night, I decided to just off my addictive self. Dead, killed, it's over. If I don't, I may just sit here arguing with myself for the rest of my life. And that will likely either drive me totally insane or lead to a massive bender that will destroy everything I have desired in my life. So, I'm giving my addictive self a nice funeral today. It's time. The demise has happened. Buried, gone, see you later.

Life is too short. Life is way too good (well, the economy and job situation could improve, but hey, it is what it is). Being sober is far too important in my life to allow baggage to weigh me down.

Today, it's another new day. Another cycle...and another stepping stone to happiness that is well deserved.

Control

Early on, I believe that we establish what it is to sense whether or not we are in control. Cognitively, it feels better to be in control, ones ego is in check and we are then able to perceive growth and maintain a sense of balance, regardless of the situation. 

As we grow older, we establish specific patterns stemming from this early sense that allow us to remain in check emotionally, physically and beyond. Even if it's some kind of ordered chaos, there is always present a sense of being able to navigate through a multitude of life situations. 

When we lose control is the time the real test of integral thinking comes into play. Losing control seriously challenges people to look at themselves and then look far beyond to gain perspective. And, for me personally, it continues to be one of the biggest learning experiences ever.

You literally have to lose control of a situation to understand what drives you. What allows you to be as healthy and productive as possible when you cannot put your hand within reach. Where do you derive strength to undertake the tremendous ability of letting go and not allowing control to define you. It's seriously mind blowing to someone who has looked at control as immeasurable false protection from pain, not realizing how much of the situation wasn't mine to control in the first place and how imperative it is to just give it up, ego rebalanced and space allowed for immeasurable growth. Absolutely freaking mind blowing as I experience this more and more, wanting that space and re-balance but holding on to it for dear life for fear of pain. 

It's ego. And as someone who has spent most of my adult life in some kind of addiction, the ego is a very fragile being. To just allow things to happen, to the ego, is rough. To the soul, it's truly necessary. It gives the two diametric opposites a chance to rest and intertwine once again. Definitely a challenge.

But I'm learning that just as that control is necessary for balance, so is letting go, if only briefly to recoup the senses. You just choose the elements that are the most balanced at that time and focus there. You let go of the rest.

And I believe when this happens, you wake up with less of a proverbial mental hangover and gain just a SHRED of clarity.

Imagine that.

The wall.

This morning, a friend wrote this to me:

"...powerful is your default state, you just let the CRAP overtake you, like vines creeping up a wall. You're the wall. The vines are your insecurities..." 

It's been a tumultuous week with several notable minor but annoying meltdowns to enhance the overall drama level. I've shed some tears, fought outright panic and lived with a sense of complete anxiety in the span of about twelve days. Nothing overly dramatic or out of the ordinary but enough to cause me a heightened sense of angst.

It's not the meltdowns, tears or panic that really infuriate me. It's the propensity I have for defensively reverting back to something I used to liken to putting up walls. The reality is, I am the wall. I immediately allow the stress and question to define me. The vines can grow within 24 hours and I am then expending energy to get rid of them instead of learning to keep the walls down. I panic. I forget that I really am defying life's challenges by taking all that is adverse and creating something fabulous. And throughout my life, that's really what I do.

The reality, again, is that I have done tremendous work in my life, on many levels, and to allow myself to return to a state where I am paralyzed by my past is just plain ridiculous. We all deserve to be happy. We deserve to live as fully as possible. We all deserve the ability to rid ourselves of the "crap".

This morning, I vented. Cried like a baby. Rolled over and played dead. I gave my friend every reason why I could not possibly knock down this heavily guarded wall in which I have both allowed myself to hide behind and incorporated into my being. He kept egging on my fight instinct. Pointed out the objective. Wrote out the OBVIOUS. And after much argument, I re-read the words. He was right, I am defiant. I am powerful. And I have moments of complete insecurity. It happens.

We move on, persevere through life and hope that we've learned from our mistakes. I've made mistakes by allowing anything to stand in the way of who I am and why I'm here.

And now, I've furiously pulled down the weeds and remembered that my insecurities will never define me, they just annoy me. And life moves on.