The Journey, Entry #4 - Raw Recovery Beginnings

(This piece is a mixed media in progress. It's chaotic, which is really by design. And it's not finished. I don't quite know what it's going to look like when I am done, but that is part of the mysterious beauty of this kind of art. And don't you think that is a bit like us too?)

It would be so easy to say that I haven't written more because I've just had a busy week( partly true). Or perhaps to make up some exotic excuse, like that I was 'traveling'. Or I could say that it is because I have company. And it's true, I do have company.

But the real reason I haven't written more of what I had promised was because the last time I sat down to prepare for my next post, I had an anxiety attack. 

Perhaps this is the exact segue needed to describe in accurate detail what the recovery process is about. Every day since that day, when the thought 'I want to sit down and write' enters my head, I quickly dismiss it with some sort of excuse which really means 'SHIT! I don't think I'm ready to write that bit without feeling that same dreaded interrupted breathing!'

Panic attack, anxiety attacks, or whatever other descriptive one might use to describe the feeling that comes over a person when they are overwhelmed beyond a normal 'gee, this is stressing me out' kind of level. I haven't had a proper diagnosis on the topic. I just know that when I feel emotionally overwhelmed lately, my breathing becomes difficult and it feels like a brick is sitting on my chest. And the feeling takes a very long time to go away.

I began having them last summer, after a few interactions with people close during which it was becoming clear that I was experiencing disconnection from them and that it was likely that the disconnection was going to be permanent.

I'm 47 years old. Prior to last summer, I hadn't had an attack like that since I was 29. But since last summer, it's been a very common occurrence. Sometimes even daily. Sometimes literally ALL DAY LONG.

I actually didn't realize that was what was happening for many months, thinking instead that I was suffering some sort of allergy event, or that I was developing lung cancer or who knows what. Somehow, I eventually connected the regularity of the breathing difficulty to interactions with certain people, or to thinking about those people and the breakdowns of the relationships. At this point, it's developed into a much more common event which I can only describe as a trauma response. (yes, I have discussed all this with my therapist. no, I don't need to see a doctor yet, please don't worry, and thank you for your concern if you do anyway)

So, today happened.

I was doing my meditation, and then I thought that I would sit down to write and, there was the panic, all over again. And that's why I am here now, writing this down, because the reality is that, I can function really well most of the time.............as long as I ignore the trauma of what happened in the last year+. 

But, when I try to look at how I have been affected, how my life has been utterly changed in the blink of an eye........... that is when I can't breath........... when the weight comes crashing down............ and when I am faced with the reality that recovery is a lot. of. work. 

What is recovery like? 

It's a lot of work. 

It hurts. It makes you angry. It makes you resentful. It makes you bitter. It causes you to imagine what it would be like if you could know that the people who inflicted the trauma were feeling what you are feeling. 

It costs you money, LOTS OF MONEY. It costs you joy, so very much joy. It costs you new relationships. It costs you creativity. It costs you.

It costs you.

Recovery is never free.

It may cost you even more relationships. It will certainly cost you way more time than seems necessary. It may cost you the realization of some of your dreams and hopes. It may cost you your health. It may cost you your song.

The thing is, not recovering costs all that, and even more. 

At least when you work on recovery, you have the hope of ending up with the thing you are recovering, Your Self!

Not recovering would have cost me Ursula. In fact, it would have cost not just me, the price of Ursula. It would cost my husband, and my children, and my grandchildren, and my friends, and the World. Because there is something I am supposed to do in the world and if I was not recovering, that thing wouldn't happen. 

This isn't at all what I had planned to say, but I think it was probably important. Maybe I can't promise you a topic for 'the next time'. But I am going to keep working on recovery and as I do, more of my story will come out. Thank you for listening!

If you're joining for the first time, you may want to check out previous posts that are earlier installations of this story by clicking on the following link. The Journey  Also, if you are enjoying reading about this Journey, please consider subscribing. Thank you so much for reading today!