My mother died of liver disease. Cirrhosis. The kind related to misuse of alcohol perhaps combined with too much acetaminophen. It is a ten or 15 year progressive illness, so this history of hers dates back to almost when I left home for University. Her drinking began also close to the time her own mother - the family matriarch - passed away. Her diagnosis however, only came into my awareness about a year and a half ago. Precisely the time when I was home with a newborn and came to understand my husband had chosen a different course for himself and the family that would lead to divorce. I have handled both of these events primarily alone or sometimes with close friends to whom I am grateful they were willing to simply bear witness to my suffering.
We all have different coping mechanisms when we are faced with grief, loss or really intense emotions. My mother was an incredibly sensitive woman, and I believe life on Earth was emotionally painful for her. She chose a couple different vices to cope with the intense feelings that she did not have the tools to process or understand.
I believe addiction touches every single American family in one way other another. We each handle the perceived shame of it differently. Where some families want to push it under the rug or keep it discreet, I'd prefer to blow the lid right off the sucker and call it for what it is. In this season of my life, I wield a very large metaphoric floodlight and shine it on that which wants to remain hidden. Shining light on it reduces its power over one's life.
Pushing emotionally charged things under the rug, killed my marriage and my own family. That in and of itself is some people's coping mechanism - pretending an issue does not exist. I believe we give it more power, though, when we try to deny it or push it away. Eventually it will find a way to rear it's head. It will find a way to surface. And in that extra time, lies suffering and reduced relationships with others.
I realize my mother's tendencies to deny and cope by dulling with substances, followed by my own marrying into a family with substance abuse issues, must have subconsciously created a need in me to FULLY FEEL EVERYTHING. I gave natural birth to my children - one of the most intense forms of suffering a human can experience on this earth - and then I became a midwife, so that I could bear witness to others' suffering on a regular basis. I am articulate about my feelings, and then publish them. I give power to my emotions and feelings rather than seek to dull and chase them away. It is in this process that I find some semblance or order in my life and bring order to my feelings.
As a youth, I was never overly drawn to experiment with drugs and alcohol - okay there was that one season.... but for the most part, I'm fascinated enough with the intricacies and mysteries of my own mind, emotions, and heart that it actually scared me to alter my natural state at all. The experiences I had when I was offered and partook in alcohol or other means of coping - really frightened me. I was aware at a young age that I was interesting enough as it is, if I just spent enough time with myself naturally.... it was like a recreational activity or adventure.
My feelings and emotions are always shifting, never the same for more than a few days or even hours. Much like in childbirth, the less we meddle with our body's natural chemistry, the sooner the feeling passes and we emerge slightly changed. Different. Herein lies spiritual and emotional resilience and growth.
I have never surfed, but I imagine how I feel as I ride the waves of my own human emotions, and I think this is how surfing might feel.
Grief
Over the past year, I've gotten to know myself better through grief. I have had moments where my entire body - especially my heart - hurts and aches. On my darkest days, precisely at the point where many people in our culture might have sought an addiction to cope and avoid, I pulled the covers over my head for a few hours and just let it ride over my body. After observing myself and this powerful feeling that originated outside of me yet occupied my total being, I learned that it would reliably pass in 4-6 hours. I grew to the point where rather than run to my bedroom, I could notice the grief when the wave washed over me. I'd stop whatever I was doing and just notice it and then close my eyes and feel it. I learned to deeply breathe, placed my focus on where it felt strongest in my body.... and then focus all the love for myself I could muster right there - to that spot. And it would pass.
I grew resilient enough that when grief came knocking, I could stop what I was doing, actually speak its presence out loud to whoever happened to be with me or just to myself, and notice how it took my breath away for a few moments.... Since it's desire was to choke and paralyze me, I instead started to deeply breathe in and out when it came. And sometimes within moments, it would pass. My coping skills became sharper, as was my ability to feel and put words around the feeling. This is how I moved through the grief of my divorce and my mother's illness and passing simultaneously.
Anger
This is a tricky one... Anger is one of the more complex feelings for me to comprehend. My understanding of it though, is what lies beneath anger, is grief. Something unmet. I have had some anger. Some normal and related directly to the events in my life over the past year. Sometimes I feel anger with people I love when their words or actions elicit frustration. I feel frustrated sometimes, by circumstances and situations. I'm learning what best cancels it, is patience and faith. With anger and frustration comes a great deal of passion. Passion - in it's bridled form - is something I'd like to hang onto. Someday, when I am married, I will have significant physical expressions of my grief and anger to manifest intimately, with a man who is equally in touch with his emotions or wants me to help him get in touch with them. I'm curious if this will equal fireworks.
Love
I am on a walk to be able to love someone correctly, and be able to receive love willingly. I am learning to establish greater boundaries and manage expectations. I feel love every single day. I feel love for my children and for my friends. Following the horrific grief that I have allowed to work change in me, my heart today feels like this open and expanding canvass upon which my future will be written. It has no bounds. Love knows no bounds.
I realize that my intense feelings, emotions and expressions of them will be too much for most men to handle. It may take a some time to partner with the one emotionally and physically available man who fits with me like a puzzle piece at precisely the right time for both of us, and who wants to go surfing with me. I can wait. God is suggesting that I wait a bit longer - not to rush.
Joy
Sometimes I get glimpses of joy. More and more moments are coming every day, where the joy overrides the sorrow. I love and appreciate my life, my moments with my children. Moments with my friends. I can feel the permanent joy filling up my heart as things are observed, heard, smelled, felt and I guess you can say even tasted. I believe all five or six senses are to be used to feel joy. It's that sixth sense I am most interested in listening to and developing further. It's pretty active in me.
Gratitude
I have gratitude to my mother, whose own vices and life choices have ironically made me the woman I am today. Without her particular life course, I might not want to fully feel life as I do. Every day I open my eyes feeling gratitude for a new day and a new shot at Life and feeling it all.
This... is Life's Beautiful Surfing Mess.
Ciao!
Ciao!
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