Something I’ve been thinking a lot about lately is the idea of having a life in addition to my Recovery. Not outside of, in addition to. Recovery is my foundation, and it is important, but so is living. The program gives me a way to live, but simply existing in the rooms is not living. Meetings are important; working my steps are important; prayer and working with others, all important as well. But they are not ends unto themselves. They are means unto a very specific end: the ability to live my life. Not too long ago, I read a ‘Just For Today’ that discussed letting go of ones progress in Recovery.
Letting go is probably one of the scariest things anyone can do. It certainly is for me. The idea of letting go of my progress in Recovery? Terrifying. All kinds of questions come up. What if I relapse? What if I cause more chaos? What if I revert to old behaviors and begin hurting those I love all over again? After spending so much time and energy trying to repair damage from the past, the last thing I want to do is start creating more wreckage.
The JFT says letting go is an act of Faith, and they’re right. It’s a powerful, enormous act of faith. It’s having faith in God to take care of me and give me what I need, be that opportunities, choices, or presence of mind. But it’s also an act of faith in myself: that I can trust myself and my healthy instincts; that I will continue to learn and to grow, and that I don’t have to force it. I can have faith that things will happen naturally, as they are supposed to; as God intends them to.
It isn’t easy, but it is simple.
Another thing I’ve been thinking a lot on lately is the topic of abuse. A great many of us who find our way into the rooms of Recovery have suffered some form of abuse in our past. I don’t know if there are any official statistics out there, but I’d guess the percentage to be pretty high. It’s one of the miracles of the rooms that we can be around others who have endured similar pain. Sharing about this issue in particular with someone else who has experienced it can be a life-changing experience. For the first time, we can begin to feel that we are not alone in our suffering.
My journey in understanding the abuse I suffered is an ongoing one. Sometimes I devote more attention to it than others. I’ve done a lot of research over the years. I’ve been in and out of therapy since I was about 16 years old. The fact that I have yet to find peace on the subject tells me that there is still more work to do.
Given all the psychological and psychiatric professionals I’ve been to over the years, it’s frustrating to me that I don’t have more resolved feelings about this issue. The only things I know for certain are what *didn’t* happen to me. I wasn’t ever beaten. I wasn’t molested. No one in my family ever called me a worthless sack of shit. And yet… I have to admit that I don’t really know these things for sure. I have large gaps in my memories. I don’t really remember my childhood. Part of that is undoubtedly because I wasn’t allowed to have one. I remember thinking at a young age that my dad didn’t know how to let kids be kids. But I can’t recall any examples of how I learned this.
I don’t have any memories of being at home, playing, being a kid. The few things I remember are things I did and was punished for: the time when I was about five or six that I got caught peeing in the backyard; my various attempts at pyromania. I try to come up with some more examples and can’t seem to. I think back on the times I was spanked and have difficulty referring to it as abuse. I know people who got themselves a whoopin’, and what I went through was definitely not a whoopin’. The only thing traumatic about it was the way my mom would be constantly screaming at my dad to stop. Having just written that, it occurs to me that I might be minimizing. Sill, when I think of what others have endured, it really doesn’t strike me as all that bad.
I recently found a website, mainly geared towards therapists, which has some thorough and detailed information regarding signs of abuse. The things listed really give me pause to stop and re-evaluate my opinion of my past. Lack of confidence; low self esteem; strong feelings of inadequacy; inability to trust; problem relationships; sexual dysfunction; food / drug / alcohol abuse; low or over emotional control; panic attacks; phobias; illness; self-harm; sleep disturbances; flashbacks; inability to touch or be touched; depression; suicide attempts; high / low risk-taking; security seeking; alienation from body; aversion to making noise; memory blanks. My personal list checks off 16 of those 22.
Maybe I’m overindulging, here. Maybe my need to be critical of myself and desire to control are over-reaching. It could just be that my childhood sucked and that there isn’t any deeper an explanation. It could be that what I most need to do is simply let go and have faith that everything is okay. There’s nothing wrong with being grateful for where I am now. Trying to force the issue is an attempt at control. Trusting God to reveal new information to me when I’m ready for it is an act of faith. At least I have my Recovery; at least I have a clear head now and the courage to examine these issues should I so choose.
Letting go; it’s the ultimate act of faith.
Penny Parks Foundation - Abuse Information
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