The recovery process

May 21, 4:41 PMSan Antonio Relationship Health ExaminerPaige Stroman

Previous Next

Comment Print Email RSS Subscribe

Subscribe

Get alerts when there is a new article from the San Antonio Relationship Health Examiner. Read Examiner.com's terms of use.

Email Address   Include other special offers from Examiner.com Terms of Use

The road to recovery is often difficult to find.  Or sometimes, you wake up miserable, not knowing where you are (metaphorically) and find yourself smack-dab in the middle of Recoveryville.  Recovery from what, you might ask?  Well, that's up to you.  It can be recovery from an addiction (alcohol, drugs, sex, love, work, etc) or recovery from destructive behavioral patterns that you realize aren't't serving you any longer.  Whatever you fill in the blank with, recovery is an arduous road that is far less-traveled.  It is full of twists and turns and rarely winds up where you think it will.  Where it does end up, with hard work and persistence, is a wonderful place full of freedom, love and reward. 

I was reading a Web MD article about Sheryl Crow, where she speaks of her recovery from Breast Cancer and I found it to be exactly the same feelings I was faced with after the loss of my father and the loss of my innocence surrounding the realities of my childhood and my life.  "In the wake of a broken heart and a recovering body, Crow didn't't go out much...I took care of myself, and I learned the only way to get through grief is to grieve, to experience those emotions.  I would tell people when I needed space, if I needed them to run an errand for me.  And I allowed myself to sleep as much as I wanted to, and to do absolutely nothing...and I let myself feel everything." 

"You have to feel it to heal it" is one of my favorite sayings I heard from someone.  When my dad died, it just rocked me to the core.  Suddenly, everything I was doing in life was questioned.  And I was just plain broken.  I had my son's father take care of our son and I just stayed in bed for days.  I remember reading a story in Amy Grant's Book "Mosaic" about an old woman she and Vince Gill visited on the woman's birthday.  Amy and Vince surprised her at her house for her birthday after the woman's daughter had written Vince saying how her mom would love to have him call her on her birthday.  Since the house was nearby, they called and then visited her.  The old woman talked about love and life and the loss of her mother many, many years back.  She spoke of how her husband would answer the phone and just tell people, "Nope, it's not a good day today."   And she just stayed in bed.  When Amy asked how long that went on for, the woman replied, matter of factly, "Oh, two to three years."  She also said, "Grief takes as long as it takes."

When my dad died, I remembered that story and just allowed myself to grieve.  To just REALLY feel the pain.  What I discovered is all sorts of things I wasn't expecting.  I realized that I felt just like a scared, lonely little girl who wanted nothing more than the comfort and security of her daddy.  I realized that the music career I had been pursuing for 20 years wasn't't really what I wanted to do with my life.  I also discovered that I felt as if my identity had been stripped away.  Like it went with my dad.  For the first time, I was left to define me by MY terms, not by how I wanted to appear to somebody or to prove anything.  My marriage was in a shambles.  My dad was dead.  Any passion I had left for my business was gone.  When my dad died on April 5th, a large part of me died, too.  And I found myself smack-dab in the middle of recovery from Love Addiction.   And let me tell you, it's been painful.  At various times over the past year, I've often retreated to my bed after an especially deep session with my therapist or with a painful interaction with someone.  And again, I just allow myself to feel.  I hug the Emotional-Porcelain God!

Having good friends who are great listeners is very important.  And having a support group of some kind does wonders as well.  Books have become a favorite tool of mine.  I have more than a dozen books that I can go to when I'm in any particular mood and find comfort, solace or words of wisdom.  For me, reading about how I ended up at this crossroads of pain helps me to remove the charge from the situation and allows me to start finding a new path.  "Finding Your Way Home" by Melody Beattie has been a God-send.  "The Language of Letting Go" by Melody Beattie is a wonderful daily meditation book that has become like a bible to me. "Courage to Change" an Al-Anon book is another great daily reader.   My first article for Examiner was a book review on"Ready to Heal" by Kelly McDaniel, LPC.

The main thing I've found is that I've needed to learn how to trust myself and trust God.  (I'm not trying to get religious here - you can insert whatever name you call God - the Universe, Allah, Heavenly Father or no God at all). I consistently ask myself, "What is it that I really want?"  I don't worry what other people will think or say.  No one has to understand this journey that I'm on.  Recovery is a unique and individualized process.  Everyone's recovery takes a different path and takes a different amount of time before relief is felt from the pain.  All I am merely doing is sharing my experience, strength and hope and my love.  Anyone who chooses to truly look at themselves and all the pain they have stored up is someone whom I admire greatly.  I know firsthand how difficult this path is to choose.  And sometimes, I still think that ignorance was bliss. 

But then on other days, the good days, which now seem to outnumber the bad ones, I wouldn't ever go back to the ignorance and the perpetual cycles of pain and sorrow.  I'm learning how to rely on myself and on my God.  I don't try to control outcomes.  I let go and trust.  As in Margaret Becker's song, "It's Not All Said and Done" , "let your feet bring the road to you.  You can't be shown, you can't be told, there are some things only you will know..."  And I learn every day more about myself, more about those closest to me and more about how I interact with the world and how I've contributed to the drama in my life that I was blaming everyone else for.  And I have learned how to "Surrender."  (Again, a song by Margaret Becker).  "Nothing grows on rock and steel."  Vulnerability is at the foundation of recovery, in my opinion.  Opening yourself up to you, to your friends, to your God...really digging deep down to find out what motivates your subconscious to do what you do. 

Life is too short to hold on to anything negative.  And life is too short to live it asleep.  I'm waking up, taking stock and taking steps forward.  And what a great feeling!!

If you liked this article, read my other article on "Ready to Heal" - a book by Kelly McDaniel or find a support group in San Antonio.