Days later, the pain continues …

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I was once asked by a yoga teacher what freedom would look like for me. It was an easy answer. Sleep, restful, nonscary sleep would be such sweet freedom.

And, in this moment, I would also choose to stop shaking. I’ve been shaking off and on all day today. I talked about the Freddy Bear post today in therapy. I still cry when I read it. Out of all of my posts, it’s the only one that makes me cry again and again and again. I had no idea that I even had any pain or loss around Freddy. Up until I wrote about him, if you had asked me about him I would have described him as my youngest brother with whom I am not very close. Period. I would not have thought about it any further than that.

I would like to write further, but this is too hard for me right now, so I’ll sign off for now.

Pull those weeds!

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Garden Weeds

The floatiness came upon me when I woke up this morning, and it would not leave. It stayed like an unwanted guest. All day I felt like I was walking in swaths of cotton. I texted my friend Jack, and he had an idea, or at least I thought he had an idea:

Jack: Come over and weed my garden. It’s therapeutic 🙂

Me: Ok. I’ll come over after dinner around 7.

Jack: Seriously? I was kidding, but you’re welcome to weed if you like.

I had not weeded a garden for decades. My grandmother’s garden was the last garden I ever worked in, and “worked in” is putting it loosely. I puttered in there, and she worked.

As soon as I arrived, I dove right into pulling those damn weeds. The earth in my fingernails felt real and grounding. I pulled those weeds, and after a while, I was pulling my mother’s hate, her wrath, self-loathing, and rage. I pulled as if I was pulling those demons out. I would still be out there pulling, but night fell, mosquitoes came, and my body hurt. I think I have dirt in my teeth, but the floatiness is gone.

(Photo credit: Auntie P)

I can’t believe I missed the Olympics …

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London Olympics 2012

This past Friday night, as I watched the opening ceremonies, I realized that I missed an entire Olympics four years ago. I had no idea of this fact until I was watching the ceremonies. I even had to look up where the previous Olympics were held in 2008. Apparently they were held in Beijing. Who knew? Looks like the rest of the world was aware of this fact.

This is significant because I always loved the Olympics. I remember my first Olympics that got my attention in 1984. I even bought a handbook with all the rules for every game in the Olympics. I held court in our living room with my Smurf sleeping bag for the entire run of the games. Though I am not an athlete, I love watching people strive for something they believe in, and I’ve always appreciated seeing people perform at the height of their passion. I have a soft spot for dreamers, and Olympians are dreamers just like us writers and artists.

But, I missed an entire Olympics in 2008. This fact is still amazing to me even as I type this post. The larger question is what happened?

Addictions happened. While the Olympics were taking place in Beijing I was about to hit bottom with my alcoholism and sex addiction, and I did hit bottom on August 28, 2008.

In retrospect, I can see that I replaced my passions with addictions to the point that there was little left of the real me. So, let it be a cautionary tale, if you find yourself setting your passions aside, ask yourself why. And, most importantly, what is replacing your passion?

I hope that every Olympics for the rest of my life I find myself sober on all addictive fronts, and pursuing all of my passions.

(Photo credit: Andrea Vascellari)