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Believable Delusions...

Don’t tell anyone, but I have a lot of them. Constantly. Ideas, thoughts, beliefs about myself, you, life, pretty much anything, that I have and can convince myself is right, correct or true in the moment. And I believe it. Sometimes, it is only because I want to. Other times, it is because I have lost the ability to differentiate the true from the false.

I am there again. Dealing with shit that I didn’t know was there, even though as I write that, I know that it was apparent, even to me, on some level, before.

Right now my dream life is kicking my ass. It is like my subconscious is saying:

“Hi, Erin. Ummm, this isn’t easy to tell you but you are wholeheartedly delusional about some stuff in your life, so we (the collective unconscious in your mind) have all decided that since you won’t slow down enough to see this yourself, we are gonna have to use your dreams to get your attention. This is important shit that you are glossing over, and we can’t, and we won’t let that happen...

Love the parts of you that you would rather pretend aren’t here.”

Fuck me.

Well, the unconscious parts of me have my attention. This is like the fifth night in a row that I have awakened upset or angry or distraught from the dreams I have been having.

Apparently, dreams are a relatively safe way to process trauma. And that which my waking mind will not let me process, my asleep mind has no defense against. So here I am. Tired from all the dreaming and processing. Let me assure myself and then you, that all the shit that is going on has my full attention. Really.

I guess what I am most amazed about is that I have done it again. Told myself a believeable story that isn’t really true. Fuck, this is one of those things that I keep thinking that I have dealt with, but only find myself back here again, thinking how did this happen again?

I was just talking about this last night too. At my women’s meeting, we were discussing why in recovery it is so important to not just admit our shit to God, why it is so important to admit it to an actual, breathing person. And the consensus was because we need an actual person sometimes to punctuate our well developed and often over developed denial systems.

I said, “what I love about recovery is that I know that right now I am throwing down some shit that I will realize in like two weeks or two years that I am being completely delusional about right now...”

And I meant it. I just didn’t know that I would wake this morning to realize that the time for me to realize the depth of my own pathology and delusion would be this morning at 5:30 am.

Again, have I mentioned, “FUCK!”

After a good session with my sponsor, I feel less angry and upset. I am following direction and doing the work assigned so that which is currently kicking my ass, doesn’t kick my ass forever. And that I don’t slip back into that delusional state where I think I am just fine...

I am fine (fucked up, insecure, neurotic and emotional). Always.

And today I think I am little less delusional because I can see what I am really grappling with, and I am willing, begrudgingly to do the fucking work to process all that has happened and hopefully heal on some new, previously unacquired level.

What I am coming to terms with this morning is that in order to endure, we have to believe the lie we tell ourselves. And I am true believer in this sense. And I am very good at convincing you, that I believe, so that you will believe.

I am a really good liar. Mostly to myself about myself. All the other avenues of lying are mostly untraveled today, as the program works its magic and makes me a responsible, contributing member of society, far from perfect, but not a felonious drunk anymore either.


I guess my point this morning is to own that I still create many, many believable delusions. So many in fact that my subconscious parts have decided to gang up against me and take over my sleeping life in a mad grab to get my attention.

Well, internal Erin parts, you have my fucking attention!

I guess the bubble has popped and I am no longer believing the lies I have been telling myself. And I have the subconscious parts of me to thank for that. It is feeling more like an integration, but I know that there is a lot of mental and emotional and spiritual heavy lifting in the weeks ahead. And my penchance for telling lies that I will willingly believe, activated, alive and thriving. So I have to beware, of me, and my desire to really spin a tale to distract me from the unavoidable truths in my life.

Healing is never easy and it is never pain free. Healing and recovery is a process so that if we are alive, is always an opportunity, but in order for the opportunity to have any depth and weight, I have to drop the blinders, the pretty lies, the delusional ideas about myself and others and be willing to just call it all what it is. Hard. Messy. Painful. Grievous.

And to own, that I really don’t want to do the work. I just want to be happy and play. But the collective unconscious committee in my head has gotten my attention, letting me know that without the work to heal, I will not enjoy the benefits of healing.

I am in this place where I have done surgery, cauterized the wounds and sewed myself up. Now it appears that I am shocked that I am not at 100%. I totally forgot that surgery requires recovery, and healing time. The process isn’t over when the last suture is placed, the recovery is complete when I am no longer in pain over shit that happened. And that takes time. And I am not in charge of that timeline no matter what believable bullshit I tell myself.

I just have to get up every day and begin with the knowledge that things are hard, and they hurt. And I can deny that with every fiber of my being but it doesn’t change the immutable truth: trauma, is traumatic and it takes whatever it takes to heal and grow beyond. And if you are alcoholic, you have a built in defense system that will tell you that all is well and “nothing to see here” all while you are burning your life to the ground.

Denial kills. Really. And I for one, do not want to fall victim to the believable delusions that my mind throws about. So I will do the work, because that is the only thing I have ever found that makes living inside myself quiet, calm and pleasant.

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