Feelings sometimes feel like facts

I hear the statement that feelings aren't facts at meetings frequently.  But as was shared in the meeting last night: “Feelings aren’t facts, but it’s a fact that I’m having my feelings”.  And that surely is okay because for so long emotions are often repressed around alcoholics.  They are repressed until they boil over in anger and resentment.  So feelings are a good thing.

But where does the phrase "Feelings aren't facts" come in?  To me this means that some of my thoughts are really fabricated projections and aren't based on reality.  It is easy for me to relapse into the old way of thinking that involves blame, judgment, obsession, and even dislike. My thoughts can either be ones that are distorted, based on unfounded assumptions and negative projections or they can be ones that bring me pleasure, comfort, peace, and acceptance.

The feelings that I have had which were counter-productive to recovery were those in which I blame myself for what I perceive as a slight by another: "If only I had said something different, the person would like me."  And usually if I stay in that frame of mind long enough, I get around to twisting those thoughts of blaming into having angry thoughts about others:  "I don't deserve to be treated this way.  This person is a royal pain."

I have to smile at these little internal rants that so quickly can take over if I am not careful.  And these can occur whether I actually know the person or not.  It may be a perceived snub from someone on line.  Or it may be someone I know who was busy and didn't say Hello.   These thoughts happen instantaneously based on the old fears of abandonment, rejection, and criticism that happened in the past, mostly in my family of origin.  It is the child within raging against all kinds of perceived slights.

So when these unhealthy and negative thoughts come up,  I take time to sit with them and look at them from an adult perspective.  Are these thoughts really true or are they some dregs from the past that can poison my present?

What I have learned in Al-Anon is to speak my true thoughts to myself.  I see if they are real, based on the facts in front of me.  If they are just something that I have invented based on the old painful stuff from the past,  then I need to look hard at whether I want to believe that these emotions fit the current situation.

I don't want to live in emotional drama in which my thoughts are based on hating others or myself.  I believe that I have a choice about what thoughts to accept as true and which ones are fueled by my past experiences that go all the way back to childhood.  I am glad to realize that not every thought that comes into my head today is valid.  Not everyone is out to get me or be a jerk.  In fact, I think the opposite of that by thinking that most people are truly good and well-intentioned.  If I take the time to think clearly without reacting,  I get along with my fellows better, am more mature in my outlook, and see other points of view that I might not have even considered.

Thoughts are the shadows of our feelings - always darker, emptier and simpler. ~F. Nietzsche

The Rave

There was a huge concert at the marina on Saturday evening.  All day Friday, we could see a large circus tent being erected.  I heard various things about the concert--that it was a DJ, that there were 3000 people coming, that it would be crazy, and that it was a Rave. 

I know that I am behind the times, but I did not know what a Rave was.  I only just looked it up on Google today.  For those of you who are equally uninformed and might be curious it is:

Any gathering of people centered around listening to and dancing to electronic music, as played by a set of live djs. Originated in 1989 in the UK as underground, often illegal gatherings in abandoned warehouses. Often characterized by the positive, psychedelic atmosphere, influenced often (but not always) by drugs and casual sex. Source: Urban Dictionary

After working on tracing the plumbing and waste system on Sojourner (getting to know her inner guts literally) all day,  I walked the old Labrador up to the grassy spot near where the circus goings on were occurring.  There were people, mostly 16-20 year olds from what I could tell, dressed in all manner of costumes from the ridiculous to the sublime going to the tent. 

I went back to the boat and forgot about the concert because about ten people from the marina came over to see Sojourner and brought snacks.  We sat around and talked for over two hours.  Eventually, someone suggested that we all take a walk up to the tent to see what was going on.  So we strolled up there and walked right into the Rave. 

I have to say that it was an interesting experience.  This was a concert by Pretty Lights which consists of one fellow who hits keys on his computer and turns knobs to produce electronic music.  Another fellow is playing drums.  They crank out some wobbly-thump bump and boom beat, and coordinate the big hits with LED explosions of light.  All around kids were waving hands in the air and grinding to the sound. 

There were lots of lights of all kinds.  The most fascinating being the ones that were attached to people who wore lots of glow sticks.  Several individuals had fastened glow sticks to their clothing to make an outline of a person.  I wish that I had taken photos of that. 

I could tell that there were a lot of underage kids drinking and doing whatever substance the kids are doing now.  One girl staggered past us and threw up in a trash can.  Not very pretty, lights or not.  Another young woman came up to ask me if I knew where she could get some acid.  I know that I looked rather dingy with a two day old beard and the fact that I was twice the age and more of these kids, but I didn't think that I looked like a drug dealer.  Anyway, I told her that I didn't know and that I wouldn't touch that stuff as it could make a person crazy.  She probably thought, "Old fart".  I know that is what I am, especially at the Rave. 

However,  C. and I did decide to bump and grind to the music.  That probably isn't what you wanted to read, but we had a good time.  We added a few glow sticks to our clothing, put both our hands in the air and danced for over an hour. 

Now I can say that I experienced a Rave with Pretty Lights.   Too bad these kids missed Pink Floyd. Now those were the days.......

Outcasts

I am feeling a bit like the stuffed animal in the photo.  I am tired for one thing and that leads me to some places in my head where I'd rather not go.  I don't feel energetic, have a headache, and know that the bug I picked up last week is still incubating in my body.

I have witnessed some unkindness this week that has made me wonder what is gained by making others feel rotten.  I can go along sweeping my side of the street and then a garbage truck will go by and deposit its entire load right in front of me.  Is the person in the garbage truck laughing? What pleasure is it to dump that load of garbage on another?  I don't know about you but dumping on another person has never made me feel good, superior or enhanced me spiritually.  It has had the opposite effect. 

I know that the tools of the program tell me to let things go, not pick up a thrown gauntlet, and to keep sweeping.  But I am tired today so I needed to wonder out loud here instead of listening to the voices telling me that I too am an outcast.

I know that when I am faced with angry people and criticism,  I feel great anxiety. The feeling of isolation that I had as a child is still within, just waiting to bring me down.  I have written here before that I fear nothing more than abandonment and have for the most part held on in relationships rather than experience the pain of feeling abandoned and rejection.  These feelings of not being able to cope with abandonment stem from living in an dysfunctional environment where no one was emotionally there for me.

So where does that leave me?  Today, it means that I am going to go to a noon meeting.  I'm going to get plenty of rest tonight.  I'm going to meet with a sponsee for an hour after work.  And I'm going to keep sweeping my side of the street.  The outrages, anger, selfishness, and fears of others are not mine to own.  I have given those shortcomings enough of my energy this week.  I don't need to know "why"?  I only know that I will pick up that abandoned outcast part of me, dust it off, give it a good hug, and treat it as gently as I possibly can.

How therapy helped

I've mentioned a few times on here that I went to therapy for a while.  Actually, I went to therapy on and off for over the course of ten years.  I knew that I wasn't really happy and was seeking a way to change my behavior.  So I got a recommendation from someone and went to see what I could do.

The first psychiatrist that I went to was a kind old gentleman, Dr. W.  But he didn't really probe much, and I never had a sense of any kind of satisfaction after our sessions.  It was as if he was skimming the surface but what I had was buried very deep. And I wanted to hide it. Interestingly enough, my mother was also seeing him for her depression.  He wasn't able to discern the depth of her mental illness though, did not prescribe any medications, so her depression worsened. One traumatic day, after she had a major depressive episode, I took her to the shrink on call.  He said that my mother needed to be hospitalized and  indicated severe "textbook" biological depression. I never made any more appointments with Dr. W. after that.

My next psychiatrist, Dr. D.,  was a tough fellow who didn't suffer fools gladly.  He was physically imposing. We were about the same height but he had me by a good 30 pounds. He had shaggy white hair and a white beard.  He liked to wear jeans and old sweaters. I remember the first sessions alone with him and how we would sit and stare at each other.  He was good at waiting me out.  I would cave, and when I did speak it seemed I wanted his approval.

He was definitely a father figure for me.  He could fix his eyes on me and know that I was faking a lot.  The group sessions were particularly difficult because I didn't want to talk at first in front of strangers.  But the more that I did, the better I got at not being afraid to speak. He taught me about asking for what I needed, rather than leaving it for the other person to intuit. I remember Dr. D. talking to me about how depleting it was to stuff my anger, how it was okay to let it flow in productive ways such as humor, fantasies, but not through acting it out.  He was the one who told me that I had choices when dealing with difficult people: I could try to "out crazy" them, or I could decide to "leave the field of battle".  He said that if I chose the former then I had best be prepared to spit my anger out in such a way that they would be crushed, and that would be at great emotional cost to me and the other person.  He thought that I would fully "graduate" when I could not flinch and look him in the eye and tell him to "go fuck yourself".  I finally did that, he laughed uproariously, and I felt better.....for a time.

After a number of years though, the same old me was still there and the lessons of humor, asking for what I needed, and choices about how to deal with my anger became a distant memory.  I was back to being simply miserable.  I started going to Dr. D's wife, Dr. D-S,  because Dr. D. had died a few years earlier.  She was a gentle woman who was very spiritual.  She was also seeing my wife in separate appointments.

I would talk to Dr. D-S.  about my emptiness, my feelings of dissatisfaction with myself and my marriage, and she would make some suggestions.  But I can't remember today what the take away message was--maybe just that I needed to try to communicate better with my wife, or that I needed to pursue some hobbies which I didn't really have at the time.  I know that many times I talked about my feelings around my wife's drinking. Dr. D-S.  actually thought that I might have PTSD as a result of living around alcoholism for much of my life. However, she never suggested that I go to Al-Anon.

While seeing Dr. D-S., a friend suggested that I needed to go to Al-Anon.  I talked with Dr. D-S. about it, and she seemed to think that it would be good for me.  My wife started going to AA at the same time. For some reason, Dr. D-S. became uncomfortable with seeing both of us in separate sessions and suggested that it might be better for me to seek help from her therapist.  (There is a bit of irony here).  So off I went to see Dr. H. 

Dr. H. is a psychologist.  She shared a lot of knowledge about alcoholism with me.  She had worked as a counselor at a rehab facility. She talked to me about co-dependency.  I learned that I had poor coping skills for dealing with conflict, anger, and anxiety (see diagram at left taken from Joe's blog Just for Today-Leveraging the Tools of Al-Anon).  We did some role playing so that I could begin to develop ways to take care of myself.  And she was the one who suggested that I develop hobbies and learn to entertain myself, rather than having expectations of others to do that with me or for me.  I really believe that I was at last beginning to comprehend (or at least hear) that I could not control what others did. 

As I got further into Al-Anon, I began to see that much of what I was hearing in meetings was similar to what Dr. H. was telling me.  And after a mutual agreement,  I decided that it was time for me to move away from therapy. 

In retrospect, I can see that therapy prepared me to more fully comprehend Al-Anon.  I was not afraid to share, to open up, to inventory my feelings, or to seek a guide (i.e. sponsor).  And for a minimal voluntary contribution at every meeting,  I have learned some of the best coping skills that anyone could offer--the 12 steps.

Harvest moon

This weekend was the harvest moon. It was so incredible to see as it rose large and glowing. It shone brightly on the water, illuminating the ripples that flowed past the boat.

The sun had just gone down and there was the full moon rising following on its heels. The harvest moon got its name because it was said to help farmers working to bring in their crops. They could continue to work on harvesting their crops by moonlight even after the sun had set.

It's evidently an illusion that the moon appears larger around the autumnal equinox. I don't want to think about the illusions. I don't want to be a grown man who understands astronomy. Instead, I want to believe that I could reach out and catch a moon beam.

I thought of driving back from Tennessee years ago with my old Labrador. He had been to a hunt that day and been the pick up dog. He had enjoyed the water, retrieved many a bird, and was snoring gently as I watched the harvest moon loom up from behind a mountain on its celestial ladder. It was such a moment of peace tinged with a dash of longing. The old dog is long gone. But I knew that he too felt the pull of the harvest moon even as he slept.

I think each of us at times has a similar inexpressible and poignant moment that comes not from logic or reason, but from a place inside where wonder and mystery dwell.

"I want to see you dance again
Because I’m still in love with you
On this harvest moon"- Neil Young

Grieving our Losses

The meeting yesterday was good. We discussed the introduction to the book Grieving our Losses, which is a new CAL from Al-Anon. Many people in the group have suffered major losses of children, spouses, friends and parents.

I've lost both my parents but I've come to grips with that. What has struck me though is the need to grieve the free spirited kid that was me until alcohol came into the picture. I don't think that I ever really got good parenting that protected the little kid within me. There were a lot of expectations that I was to get good grades, be polite, do the right thing--these are all great things but when you're a kid exposed to heavy drinking, there is a balancing act between being responsible and having a lot of responsibility to live up to the expectations of others.

I felt that as I got older, I had a lot of expectations piled on me. That weight grew heavier with time and became almost suffocating in my marriage. I never really allowed myself to play much or break away from the daily grind of job and home responsibilities. After a while, I felt imprisoned because I didn't want to socialize for fear that my wife would get drunk, having people over was even worse because then there would be drinking at home. So I isolated and felt lonelier and lonelier.

One of the things that my wife would say with derision was "Oh, you're so predictable." And the other was that I acted like someone who was much older than I was. But just the other day, she said, "I need to be careful what I say because look what happened". Now she sees me as unpredictable and carefree, and a person who does things and has an attitude that is much younger than my years.

The ability to not live by the expectations of others has been a wonderful gift of this program. I do feel much freer in my heart and soul. The optimism of my early childhood is blossoming again and allowing me to feel positive about much of my life. These are things that I don't think would have been possible without this program of recovery.

Cold at last

The weather turned cold and very windy on Saturday evening. I went to a Christmas concert, meeting up with my sponsor. The seats were literally front row which turned out to be interesting because of being able to see just about everything the violinists did as well as the conductor, harp player and percussionists. It really helped to get in the Christmas spirit to hear carol favorites.

The 40 knot winds that kicked up kept me close to port, but I still spent time on Compass Rose. She was safe and dry in her slip at the marina. It was one of the few times that waves were crashing over the sea wall.

I have gotten all of my Christmas shopping done. Wrapping a few dozen presents is the last thing to do. The tree is up and the house decorated. I have to say that all the coziness makes me want to stay home and just enjoy a fire and a good book. There's always something about the period from Thanksgiving to Christmas that turns me into a kid again.

I remember when I learned that Santa Claus was a bit suspect. I would lie awake on Christmas Eve listening for reindeer and wondering if Santa could get down the chimney. Eventually, I'd fall asleep, but as I got older it got harder for me to fall asleep. So one year when I was around 6 or 7 years old, I heard my parents whispering and going up and down the stairs. From then on I guessed the Santa theory didn't add up. And eventually I started to snoop around and find things under beds and at the rear of closets. I remember when I found some gifts that I wished I hadn't. From then on, I stopped snooping and to the this day don't want any hints about what anyone has gotten me. I guess I prefer to revert back to childhood thoughts that it's all magic. And maybe it is.

Christmas shopping

I have managed to get most of my Christmas shopping done.  I have found that ordering presents on line has really helped.  I don't feel rushed or in a panic about any of this.  Wrapping hasn't occurred yet but I'll get that done over a couple of evenings this week.  

To be honest, I seem to look forward to the celebration of Christmas rather than all the trappings of it.  I think that so much of it is overdone and the commercialization is definitely not what it's about for me.  I think that if Christmas could be more like the feeling that I have about Thanksgiving, it would be ideal.  I can't help but think about the real meaning of Christmas and it doesn't have anything to do with all the things that you see in stores or all the airblown Santas in yards.  

Nonetheless, I've done my part for the economy this year.  And I'm actually beginning to feel more in the holiday spirit.  The Christmas Symphony is on Saturday and I think that will definitely be a nice event and always festive.  And I'm going to put a few lights up on Compass Rose so she looks a bit jaunty for the holiday.  

Last night we decided to have the Christmas night Al-Anon meeting as scheduled.  There were 30 plus people there.  It was a good meeting with lots of new faces.  I'm glad that we will be meeting as it seems that most people aren't looking forward to the holidays.  I guess that I'm feeling as I usually do: glad for some time off, thinking about the real meaning of the day, and not worrying about much of anything.  And trying to recapture that childlike wonder from years past.  

Goblins

I don't know that I've ever really liked Halloween. I say that because I can't remember too much about what I did on Halloweens. I can remember going out a few times as a kid on Halloween but nothing really stands out in my mind. I can't remember whether I had a really good time or not.

There's something about seeing kids dressed up in their costumes and being happy about going to pumpkin mazes and scary hay rides that makes me smile but also nostalgic for something that I missed. Although I live too far out in the country for kids to come for trick or treat, I bought a pumpkin from the pumpkin patch at a local church and put it on the front porch. I think that the squirrels will enjoy it.

The origin of the jack-o'-lantern evidently traces back to the Irish legend of Stingy Jack, a greedy, gambling, hard drinking old farmer who tricked the devil into climbing a tree, and trapped him by carving a cross into the trunk of the tree. In revenge, the devil placed a curse on Jack which dooms him to forever wander the earth at night. This bedtime story was told by Irish parents to their children. Not particularly something that would make me want to go to sleep.

I hope that everyone has a safe and happy time on this All Saint's Eve. And that your sleep is free of goblins.

Inner child

It seems that because this is the eighth month there have been a lot of Step 8 meetings. Tonight's step study was about the eighth step: "Made a list of all persons we had harmed and became willing to make amends to them all." Although the list comes largely from my step four list, there is also room for additions.

I think that one of the entities at the top of my list will be the little child within me. That child didn't get a good kind of nurturing growing up. The child tried hard to please but didn't get a lot of positive strokes back. That child was brave but often felt fearful and confused. Later that child got stifled in an attempt to be grown up, perfect and organized. The child within also hid when confrontations occurred, lashed out when cornered, and cried when in pain.

So first on my list will be I. I know how I can now make amends to me for not really living my life to the fullest over the years and for not forgiving myself for the past. From now on, I am taking good care of that inner child. I'm thankful for a program that helps me to realize that I'm never too old or too worn down to listen to the voice within and make amends.