Waiting on the Edge

So if any of you know my baby brother Barrett, he is relatively obsessed with "The Lord of the Rings", both the movies & the books.  He loves epic stories, & the rest of us tend to agree on a slightly lesser scale as we tend to watch at least one of the films once every month or so.  For me, one of my favorite characters (yes he is a goofball & that is part of it) has always been Pippin.  He's a total ding dong pothead (reminds me of someone I love & miss more than anything), but he's fiercely loyal without ever even thinking about it and always comes through in the end.  His line towards the end of the series has always been one of my favorites, because I relate to it so well.

"I don't want to be in a battle.  But waiting on the edge of one I can't escape is even worse.  Is there any hope?"

I've felt like this a lot lately.  I feel the time drawing near when I will be "out" as they say, when everyone will know & I'll have nowhere to hide.  I don't worry that someone will out me.  I've been very selective with the information that I give out and to whom it is given, as I want this all to be on my terms.  The reality is that I have made the decision that professionally, I want to help others like me.  I have known and been lifted by fellow recovering addicts, much further along in their own journeys, & the reality is that their interventions and guidance would have meant so little had I not known that they truly understood where I then stood.  I have been told time & again that I will be able to empathize with others & understand when they are in need.  I have come to understand that this will require a great deal of humility & faith on my part, allowing people to know things that I might feel safer were they never known.

The thing is, I've felt a desperate need lately to live a more authentic life.  There have been conversations where I've felt a desire to share but could not do so because the one or two minutes of input I might like to give would require hours or even days of explanation given the other person's ignorance concerning my past.  I've been ridiculously sick, congested, coughing all night long, essentially no voice for the past few days.  When I woke up (technically this afternoon) my baby sister was listening to a song they played for us in rehab.

Yes y'all, I've been to what I call rehab but they call a counseling intensive.  Just a few days of LOTS of talking, intense mental/emotional exercises & activities, drawing & writing things down, with no outside world contact.  My very dear friend accurately calls it the bubble, & even now over 8.5 months later I still crave its simplicity & safety.  Everyone there was an addict or involved with an addict, in varying stages of recovery.  Yes, even the therapists.  There was no need to hide or pretend.  We were all equal, & it was more liberating than I could possibly describe.  They took our phones in the beginning, & we got them back at the end.  No triggers, no outside world....it was indescribable.

In "rehab" the word authentic is tossed around like crazy.  Not in a facetious, "hey, get real" kind of way, but in a way where we're encouraged to recognize who we are, what we aren't or don't have to be anymore, & to continually strive to be true to that.  We're encouraged to come to know ourselves & to know God & more importantly, to know ourselves as He knows us in a way I don't think any of us ever fathomed possible.  I'm not there yet, not even close, but I'm trying.  And the thing is, I want to be authentic.  I want that song to come on & to be able to say "hey, they played this song in rehab, I love it!" & not have that topic be something from which I have to shy away.

In shedding, or beginning to shed all the shame associated with my addiction & with the weakness it feels like must have been in me to become an addict, it has been an enormous blessing to tell the truth.  We learned that addicts are simply people who had needs that weren't being met, so they found a way to meet them.  It's a measure of control, albeit one that causes an eventual complete & total loss of control.  How's that for some irony?  But being able to share those insights, to connect with people & say "this is REALLY me.  Take me or leave me, but I will never pretend again" is...amazing.  I never thought I could have that.

I'm afraid.  Deeply afraid.  The response to my previous, more vulnerable than ever before blog entry was phenomenal.  Not that I had crazy amounts of people writing me, but that people I've always known & loved but been too afraid to allow to know & love me could start to understand why.  No one said "oh you're an addict?  Well what is it that you wanted so badly you almost destroyed your life?"  To be fair, I was a closet addict.  I think most people knew I wasn't happy & that my life wasn't progressing as I wanted, but not why.  People aren't stupid, but neither am I.  As the truth comes out, people WILL leave.  People will not understand.  The funny part is that I recognize some of those people will even believe they are being supportive.  "There's nothing wrong with what you were doing.  It's healthy.  It's natural.  Don't let religion tell you otherwise".  I know myself.  I know my weaknesses.  I know what makes me happy (or at least I'm learning).  I know when I act out of misery & desperation.  That is NEVER healthy.

Mormons, Christians, Atheists, Agnostics, everyone has their own beliefs & perceptions of what it means to be an addict, or if such a thing even exists.  I am fully aware that even within all of these little social compartments, others' reactions will not be the same.  They cannot be.  Just as there are so many different kinds of addictions, there are so many different kinds of people.  Some cannot understand what it is to lose control, to anything.  Some cannot understand the problem with losing control, because they believe it was a conscious choice made to do so (how is that even possible?!) & hey, whatever makes you happy.  Let me be EMPHATICALLY clear.  As an active addict, I was many things.  I was self-absorbed, the center of attention, numb, broken, deluded.  I was NEVER happy.

I know the day is coming when it will be right for this blog to center around a very different topic.  I know one day I will have an entry that starts "My name is..."  I know there will be backlash.  I know there will be criticism.  I know there will be fear & backpedaling & running away.  I know there will be guilt, & questions, & wondering "why did this happen?  Why weren't you strong enough to stop it sooner?"  I know I will lose many I love, but I have also been entrusted with the knowledge that as I have already done, I will continue to reach others that maybe I never knew suffered under the same crippling burden.  I am afraid, but I am also being guided.  I will know, when the time is right.  And someday, so will you.  What if?