How strange it is to feel comforted by the odd yet familiar feelings of misery. It’s as though a phenomenon comes over me that is as old a companion as life itself. Wallowing in this place of old wounds and lost wanderings I seek any form of instant gratification to find relief. Like ‘mother’s milk’ misery feeds me with words of unkindness, conflict and confusion. I am no longer homesick when I am enveloped in this way of being. However, the longing, the yearning for a release is ever present as well. What a dance I do with both.
Isolation is where I must remain, silent and sure of what I ‘know’ to be true. I will never find any other way of being in this lifetime. Yet, what a waste of time. Being in any form of recovery forces us to look deeply at these beliefs handed down to us from generation to generation. So well known is this type of life it is universal. Yet, I have known a deeper sense of myself. I’ve been told there is another way that suggests being comfortable living in the, “I don’t know.”
I find myself, lately, in a space of being lost in misery. It is so intoxicating to feel melancholy – taking my seat with the hopeless. How familiar to be in the day-to-day existence arm in arm with a self hate. The deepest places, where emotional pain is stored, sense the warm presence of this dangerous familiar.
Gentle, loving people scare me. Great kindnesses done make my skin crawl. Stony cold aloneness feels like home to me. Fear comes to ‘rescue’ me every time from situations and people who might bring light to the darkness of this place. Only the reassurance from another human being, who has already gone through this transformation, can companion me through the excruciating fear of the unfamiliar. I want to go back to the abuser each time, even though to do so is sick and bad for me. Is it possible to slowly, surely leave misery behind? Can I wave goodbye to the shell now broken apart to spill out the stories of old wounds and the truth of living in that shell.
Who will I be if I’m not in misery? That is the most fearful of all unknowing. Will it be worth it to leave victimhood behind for who I find myself becoming in recovery?
Each day we face and soften the pain. Isolation is unmasked for the intimate enabler it is, necessary to remain broken. We let go of familiar and walk toward what might be called ‘God’s will”.
Debra Whittam is the author of “I'm I Going to be Ok?" For any media inquiries or questions please contact: Contact@DebraWhittam.com