Learning How To Live With Emotions

My therapist (Faith) and I have been tackling the challenges and complications that are rising to the surface.  Namely, living as the emotional person God created all of us to be.  It's not easy when your past required submerging those emotions for the sake of survival.

I grew up in an environment where only one person was allowed to be angry - my dad.  His anger was explosive and many times was taken out on me in the form of physical abuse.  I remember clearly his thundering voice and his brutal hands.

I was not allowed to cry or express frustration.  I was not allowed to disagree or voice my opinion.  I was expected to guess what he wanted me to do or say.  I never did figure that out.  Almost nose to nose staring matches became a routine.  No emotion on my face but angry beady eyes and a face of red fury on his face.  It was a standoff.

When my parents divorced I was overjoyed.  A freshman in high school, I was living under the illusion that all will be well now that he was out of the house.  I didn't realize that the abuse I survived would be with me for just over three more decades.

Therapists, hospitalizations, medication and tackling those memories has been a roller coaster ride I wish I hadn't been forced to get in line.  I didn't choose to be abused by someone who was supposed to be my protector.  I didn't choose to be neglected by someone who was supposed to stop the insanity.  But it is what it was.

I'm not sure about the word "manage" when it comes to emotions.  At least, not lately.  Feeling what I am today, I have enormous difficulty dealing with someone who treats me the way my dad treated me most of the time.  Disrespectful, bossy and acting as if they know it all.  In retrospect, I can see the pattern of others behavior and how it takes over my mind.  In twelve step groups we call it, "Giving rent free space to someone in our head."

I have an aggressive side that always wants to handle angry emotions with violence.  I get tangled up in my head because I'd rather verbally lash out or punch someone out.  It was how I was raised.

In my recovery, I remind myself that:

1. I am a new creation in Christ.  The old has gone; the new has come.
2. The abuser died in Feb 2008 and can no longer hurt me.
3. Feeling my emotions full throttle is good as long as I don't self-injure or pick up a drink.
4. My therapist knows what she's doing even when I get annoyed at what she's saying.
5. It's up to me to learn about emotions and let them rise instead of eating.

There's another saying:  "As far as it is up to me, be at peace with all people."

I am a person who needs to receive grace and peace from my Heavenly Father.  What my head tells me to do is not always a good thing.  What my heart tells me to do is not always a good thing, either.  Relying on the Holy Spirit to guide my footsteps through the bog of emotions is a good thing.

Otherwise, who will help me when I fall into the muck?

Connecting the Dots

Connecting the Dots

When life carries on in a somewhat "normal" manner, I forget what it's like to wake up, again, to a paralyzed mind.  What I mean by that is my mind freezes.  It's hard to put thoughts together.  My body is still and it's difficult to concentrate.

This is a common symptom of depression.  I find myself trying to clean my little house and after two rooms and a hallway, I sit down.  I know what to do next yet my thoughts are like scrambled eggs.  I think of the appointments I have each day and I need to say "no" so that I can have a day by myself.

I'm on a restricted diet which is working well most days of the week.  Saturday night I decided to order Chinese food.  It would have been okay had I ordered less.  Instead, I ate too much then finished it off the next day instead of throwing it in the garbage.  I feel remorse for the way I treat my body because I also feel guilty that as a Christian, my body is the temple of the Holy Spirit.

Is all of this connected in some way?

Probably.  But that's for the appointment on Thursday.

Weeds In Our Lives and Flowers In Our Garden

Stades Market, Fox Lake, IL

Have you ever felt excited about starting a garden?  I have two dear friends who have beautiful gardens.  All kinds of plants and flowers and garden decorations sprinkled throughout.

I marvel at the delicacy and work each of them put into their gardens.  It takes a lot of care to grow plants, flowers and vegetables.  As you may know, I planted my first two tomato plants this past summer.  It took work to help them grow.

Weeds.  Not many people who have gardens like weeds.  After all, a weed can snuff out the growth of plants by choking the life out of them.  Weeds must be removed or the health of the garden diminishes.

What about the weeds in our lives?  What do those look like?  They prevent us from moving forward in a positive direction.  They stall our growth until they are found and pulled out by the root.  They can be deceiving and look like a plant until they reveal their true identity.

Weeds are in our lives to show us what to keep out of our lives.  They keep us sharp as we live our lives according to God's plan and purpose.  Weeds keep us alert to what is supposed to be in our life and what we need to remove.  Weeds are not hard to remove - just give them a pull and they're out.

Flowers.  Beautiful colors, some are buds when they begin and they can be fragrant, pleasant to our senses.  Some need to be pruned, some need to be thinned out and all of them need gentle love and water to grow.

Flowers in our lives remind us of the good things.  Like what?  Well, being alive for one. God chose us to be alive, at this time in history and He desires a personal relationship with us.  We choose flowers as friends, a lot of us have flowers as family and each of us has the choice of how many and what kind of flowers to have in our garden.

We want our flowers to grow in a healthy way, perhaps adding Miracle Gro.
We want the weeds to be identified and removed, sometimes they're prickly.
We want our flowers to give us joy and happiness so we spend time with them.
We want the weeds to be pulled out to make room for more flowers so that all those colors nourish our soul.

For me, I'm adding flowers but I'm being choosy.  I want flowers I can easily incorporate into my garden.  I want flowers that will not take over the garden.  I want flowers that can be independent and flourish with some tender loving care.

Good soil, regular watering and bending over to pull weeds.

That's what makes a flower (and a tomato) grow.

When Stinkin' Thinkin' Is All You Have

Today I'm feeling deep seeded anger.  Maybe it's because everywhere I turn, my life oozes with stress.  Maybe it's because I'm restricting my eating so NOT stuffing my feelings with food is aggravating.  Maybe it's because I just finished re-hanging loved ones who have passed away - my memory wall.

Maybe I'm angry because my blood work came back and my triglycerides are so high they could be rented out as an excursion tour.  Maybe I'm angry because I have to lose 100 pounds.  Maybe I'm angry because, unlike my first 90 days in AA where I attended 90 meetings, I can't lose 100 pounds in 100 days.  It's "unhealthy."

Really?  I'd like to know what skinny person said that because I'd punch them in the nose hard enough so they'd hit the ground.  I've watched shows where these 500/600lb men and women lose 50 pounds in a month and they are TOLD to do it.  TOLD.  My doctor didn't blink when last Thursday I said I'd lost 7 pounds since the week before.  He was all for it.

Today is "F" word day.  Don't ask me why, it just is.  I've had so much shit happening that I'm using swear words and it feels satisfying.  Worst of all, I don't care.  I'm told feeling my feelings is good, healthy, emotionally healing, good self-care even though what I really want to do is flip my finger off at the world and quit.

Writing this book is killing me.  Not literally, of course, but it's killing me that it's not getting written.  I mean it's getting written it's just not being put into some sort of order - any order.  Timeline or topic or whatever - it has to get going and it has to get going now.  I feel a sense of urgency.  So I made a call and a friend is going to help.

There are days I hate my life and I've had so many of them strung together for 3-4 weeks.  Medication adjustments, blood tests, carpel tunnel surgery, Lipitor increased, glucose elevated when I had it down six months ago, kitties disappearing then reappearing, my car needs work and I'm screwed up about who should do it.  Trust the people I don't know but are 12 step and Christians or have it done by my mechanics.  It frustrates the "F" out of me.  Right now, I chose the first one on faith.

Oh, yes, I still have faith.
Faith that I'm no good.  I'm no good to people or God or anyone.
Awareness that I'm angry and I feel no good to people or God or anyone.
Remembering I'm angry sober and food free and I feel no good to people or God or anyone.

Faith tells me I'm right where I should be:
1.  In God's capable hands.
2.  In the season of life that He's chosen for me.
3.  Trust the Creator, not the creation.

FAITH:  The other "F" word.

I thought this was cute:  Creator vs. Creation

Old Friends, A Mini-Seizure and A Punching Bag

It was an odd day.  I woke up early for church and ate two breakfasts.  Not sure why other than I was hungry.  I arrived at church to see friends I hadn't seen for over a decade.  I was hesitant because I couldn't remember why we lost touch.  Also because I'd gained 80 pounds since we last saw each other.  I felt self-conscious but that didn't stop me from receiving their surprised greeting.

Lynne used to be an Elder Assistant at my previous church.  It was the first time I'd left my partner and I sought prayer through our Elder Assistants knowing Satan was going to pull on me even harder because I'd left my partner and thought I'd left the lesbian community (If you haven't read this part of my story, read http://godsstoryinmylife.blogspot.com/2015/06/my-story-as-it-relates-to-legalizing.html)  I thought I had put it behind me when in fact, the lure was lurking just under the surface.

So I walk into Elders prayer, surrounded by these spiritual giants, and I utter this prayer:  "God, whoever is meant to be my prayer person, have them tap me on the shoulder."  TAP - It was Lynne.  I told her my story in a brief fashion.  She was wowed and asked the other three pray-ers to join her in praying for me.  We prayed monthly for about two years, even after I went back into the lifestyle and again when I came out of it completely.

I worked for she and Dave, babysat their kids and grew fondly attached to them.  Lynne even helped reconcile two friends and I.  And one day, POOF.  They were gone.  I never found out why even though I left inquiring messages.  So, I figured they'd gotten what they needed from me.

Now all of a sudden they are at my new church.  Not a coincidence.  Lynne was so shocked, happy and shocked all at one time.  She lovingly put her hands on my face a couple of times and the love of my friend and spiritual advisor came flooding back.  I felt so loved and missed.  I gave Dave a big hug, remembering him teaching me about his two businesses.  Both of them are such hard workers.

So I go into church and I don't know if it's from all of the problems with my medications, the self-injury in my mouth, wetting the bed two times, talking to Earl so much which is great, new friends at small group and around my neighborhood, the pressure of getting my car fixed before winter, going back to food pantries or what but now that I think about it, all of the above are connected to emotions.  Let's see.....fear, love, delight from others, pain, embarrassment, anticipation, comfortable, anxious/panicky, sad and perservering.

Right before the service Ann and I connected for a quick hand squeeze and kisses.  Near the end of the service I began to have a seizure.  I down played it as best I could but these ladies were not letting go of me (literally).  They interceded on my behalf that Satan's power would be blown away and off of me like dust.  I felt myself settle down a bit, trying to tell them this is what my body does but Jill was having none of it.  So I sat with them for awhile and yes, I felt loved and guarded against Satan because of these ladies intercession of prayer.  Thank God for discerning women when I'm not giving the right amount of attention to my ailment.

I finally sold the 100 pound punching bag I'd used to get out the anger I felt toward my Dad, Jill and something more recent.  It really does feel like a weight has been lifted off me.  I'm also missing my dad, the one who abused me so badly.  I miss him when I smell leaves burning, being down by the river when I sit or take pictures or fish and I miss him when my friend Carol is grilling.  My Dad liked to do most of these things (except take pictures). 

So, I miss my dad.



(Me as an infant and of course, my proud Dad grilling for us)