Stumped
"Life gets lived in miniature. In lieu of the large feelings - sorrow, fury, joy - I had their junior counterparts - anxiety, irritation, excitement."
- Mary Karr, Lit
The last eight years of my life have been filled with joyous events. I married an emotionally present, loving husband, gave birth to three children, forged wonderful friendships, and experienced great personal growth. But I can't say I've felt an abundance of joy. I've had excitement, overwhelming gratitude, fear, anxiety, anger, disappointment, discontent, guilt... and still more gratitude (after all, who am I to deserve this life?). But joy? Sorrow? Big feelings for life-altering events? No... not often, not for long. I can't hold them. I don't have the space to foster big feelings. When I allowed myself to feel these things in the past, they immobilized me. I have a life to live now, and this lovely family to raise - I don't have time to be bowled over by feelings.
When my grandmother died a few years ago, I was stricken by how terrible grief felt. I'd had more than my share of negative feelings over the past decade or so, but nothing so profound as grief in many years. I only cried once after her death - one long, agonizing car ride filled with tears. I felt trapped, like the grief was slowly crushing me and there was no escape. It's so hard to sit with feelings when you're not used to it, and don't have enough experience to trust that they will pass.
I am trying to be here, in the present moment, now that I am sober. It is so hard. I don't know what I feel. I don't know what's beneath the surface. I can barely identify the surface itself, much less chip away at it. But, by God, I am trying. I can't help but wonder constantly if I'm screwing up this sobriety thing. What if I'm just making myself into a dry drunk, still holding onto all the dysfunction that got me here, but resisting the urge to drink? What if I think I'm healing, but all the darkness inside me is just hiding in a corner waiting to pounce the moment I get comfortable in this new way of living?
I'm curious about doing a 12-step program. I honestly don't feel the need to discuss my alcohol use with others at length. I've spent 18 years analyzing and agonizing over my drinking, I'm blatantly aware it was a problem, and I'm soaking in memoirs and blogs that shed plenty of light on my habits and the reasons behind them. But the specific thought patterns and dysfunction that drove the drinking are a only vaguely apparent to me. I need to identify these things so I can be diligent in correcting them. There is a beast inside me I need to rip apart, but I can't grab hold of it or see its limbs to extract it from myself. This is where I am today - sober, but stumped, waiting for some light to reveal itself.
- Mary Karr, Lit
The last eight years of my life have been filled with joyous events. I married an emotionally present, loving husband, gave birth to three children, forged wonderful friendships, and experienced great personal growth. But I can't say I've felt an abundance of joy. I've had excitement, overwhelming gratitude, fear, anxiety, anger, disappointment, discontent, guilt... and still more gratitude (after all, who am I to deserve this life?). But joy? Sorrow? Big feelings for life-altering events? No... not often, not for long. I can't hold them. I don't have the space to foster big feelings. When I allowed myself to feel these things in the past, they immobilized me. I have a life to live now, and this lovely family to raise - I don't have time to be bowled over by feelings.
When my grandmother died a few years ago, I was stricken by how terrible grief felt. I'd had more than my share of negative feelings over the past decade or so, but nothing so profound as grief in many years. I only cried once after her death - one long, agonizing car ride filled with tears. I felt trapped, like the grief was slowly crushing me and there was no escape. It's so hard to sit with feelings when you're not used to it, and don't have enough experience to trust that they will pass.
I am trying to be here, in the present moment, now that I am sober. It is so hard. I don't know what I feel. I don't know what's beneath the surface. I can barely identify the surface itself, much less chip away at it. But, by God, I am trying. I can't help but wonder constantly if I'm screwing up this sobriety thing. What if I'm just making myself into a dry drunk, still holding onto all the dysfunction that got me here, but resisting the urge to drink? What if I think I'm healing, but all the darkness inside me is just hiding in a corner waiting to pounce the moment I get comfortable in this new way of living?
I'm curious about doing a 12-step program. I honestly don't feel the need to discuss my alcohol use with others at length. I've spent 18 years analyzing and agonizing over my drinking, I'm blatantly aware it was a problem, and I'm soaking in memoirs and blogs that shed plenty of light on my habits and the reasons behind them. But the specific thought patterns and dysfunction that drove the drinking are a only vaguely apparent to me. I need to identify these things so I can be diligent in correcting them. There is a beast inside me I need to rip apart, but I can't grab hold of it or see its limbs to extract it from myself. This is where I am today - sober, but stumped, waiting for some light to reveal itself.
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