Sometimes, Owning your Disconnection, Brings Connection...
I posted yesterday, as I have for awhile now, about how disconnected I feel. I am not sharing in my groups, I am feeling lost and alone. I am spiraling. And I am trying to be honest about it. I am trying to show up in the skin I am in, even when it doesn’t make me look very good, makes me looks nuts, like I am not a very good example of long term sobriety. I am still trying to tell the truth about who I am and how I show up, even when it is less than flattering.
I keep doing this because I am actually quite terrified to not do it. I have been lost on the sea of my own self promotion. And I really don’t think I have another battle with reality in me. I lost, getting my ass kicked so fucking many times. And I just can’t go another round. So it feels better (even though it doesn’t at times) to just own that sometimes, even with long term sobriety, I am and can be a bit of a shitshow. It isn’t pretty but it is true and I guess after all these years, true is better than pretty.
So I put it out there. Repeatedly. For any and all who are wiling to give me a few minutes of your life, to read what I am thinking, feeling. I put it out there in an effort to save myself, and hopefully, some of you, one of you can relate and save yourself.
So yesterday, I owned how disconnected I feel. How there is this part of me that seems to enjoy it. Like I am terrified to be close to people, and as much as I want to be connected, I tend to run, like fast and far. So I am sitting with that. Trying to see why and how and all the ways it comes up in my life and relationships.
And yesterday, it was this owning of that, all of that stuff that makes me afraid to share because I feel crazy, and stupid and alone, that connected me to someone else. Someone from my past, someone who I have never been incredibly close to, but she reached out over miles and years to tell me that she saw me and that she loved me. I cannot tell you how much I needed to hear that yesterday. I needed to hear that she struggles with this too and that my efforts to be real, to show up and do what I can to share these not so great parts of me, was appreciated and relatable to her. And I am grateful. So grateful for the courage to put it out there and so incredibly grateful to her that she was willing to stop her busy head and life to send me a life line, because that is exactly what she did.
I was having a bad day. Like the worst I have had in awhile. Being thrown away by someone you thought you mattered to is hard, and my ego does not like it one little bit. I have had imaginary arguments in my head with this person. I have yelled, cried, begged and pleaded my case. Finally, as the day drew to a close yesterday, I was finally able to own my powerlessness. And finally, find some acceptance that relationships are risky propositions, always. I am never guaranteed a good return on investment and I really need to do a better job of being more discerning with whom I share what. This whole open book thing has kicked my ass a few too many times than is good for me.
So while I sat with my desire to run, to leave the proverbial building and community that I have worked hard to build. Feeling completely not able to even begin to try again, I began again. Anyway, in spite of myself. And the universe sent me Heather. Across the country and the years to give me a boost that I desperately needed. Thank you so much my sweet friend. I am so honored to be in your life and I see you too! All your effort, all your struggles, all your grief. I see it too and I am here. I am willing to listen. I am, like you, a hard connector. Feeling way more comfortable with the disconnection than is healthy.
I have spent the better part of my life leaving. Leaving relationships, friendships, places, jobs, myself. All of the things I have left, have really just been an outward manifestation of me trying, quite desperately to leave me. And yet I am still here. Struggling to find worth and value when it appears that others do not. Struggling to see that while I am not all good, I am not all bad either. And to give myself some grace, in that I have not done this perfectly and I never will. But fuck if I don’t keep trying...every moment of my life.
It is exhausting being me. Like legit, fucking tiring. But that is the struggle of all human existence, to see yourself for who and what you are, make the changes you can to grow more into the person God wants you to be, while at the same time, not trying to destroy yourself when you continuously fall short of the mark. This is where I wake up every day, precariously perched on the edge of myself, never knowing if today will be the day I turn back toward the darkness or take yet another step out into the void that faith seems to require.
So far, I have a great track record of stepping off the edge and into faith. But it is a daily choice, and sometimes it is hourly. I like to think that all the years I have behind me, give me something to count on. But I know all too well that time gives you a disorienting belief that you can live today’s life on yesterday’s lessons. It does not in fact. The only place I have ever really lived my life is right here, right now.
I cannot stay sober on yesterday’s sobriety. It is after all a daily reprieve based on the maintenance of my spiritual condition. I still do not have this down. I still do not have it all figured out. I am still fucking it up but I am also fixing it, remaining teachable even when the teachers I seem to find, may appear, to everyone observing, that I should have already learned that lesson like a million lessons ago. I am here, I am sober and I am showing up for another day where I feel adrift, lost onto that great and vast sea of me, trying to make contact with another person on the same journey.
I am sending up flares. I am casting about. I am showing up in the skin I am in, even when that is easy to judge, and hardly a good example. I am doing the very best I can. Even if you judge that to be piss poor. It is my best. And I can’t do it differently, believe me I have and am trying.
I am grateful that there is nothing wasted in God’s world. Nothing at all. My grossest handicaps, even those can be used to bridge a gap, span a distance, and bring closeness and intimacy where it did not seem possible or even really likely.
Thank you to my friend who reached out yesterday and saved me. Thank you for seeing me, thank you for telling me “me too”, thank you for taking the time to connect. It really saved my day.