Such an odd feeling to have so many tears watering my heart flower, shedding tears..... letting go tears.
The process of letting go is what I want to focus on today and for the last time... hopefully. I feel like it is a topic I have been beating a dead horse with. I am always trying to let go of something. Dope. Food. The sexy bad boy that chews at my heart. Always struggling with giving up something that used to make me happy, yet quickly back spins and turn toxic. That has been the story of my entire adult years, I am so tired of that story.
When the pain of remaining the same becomes greater then the pain of change.... the seed will break out of its shell and shoot through the soil into the light. I am ready to shoot.
When I was at Aventa, A woman's treatment center, we were asked to write a letter to our addicts. I love to write and welcomed the assignment. I wrote with vigor to my beloved Lady Vixen. I let the images of her flow to my mind and I let my higher self speak to her directly. I wrote about her beginnings, her journey and her ending. I could see the process so clearly nestled safely in an all women's facility for six weeks. The work to walk the process began when I left that safe haven.
That process is finally coming to a close now, two years later. Time, Time, Time. Patience is not for the weak of heart because everything happens in its own time not ours. Walking through is the only thing we have control over. I lost control of that several times over the past couple of years. Each time I gave in to my addict I held on.
I held on with each drug relapse. I held on with each food binge. I held on with each new bad boy conquest. My arms are sore from holding on so damn tight. I can't hold on anymore. I am too tired. I have no more strength. Such an odd concept to say it takes strength to let go, yet I am to tired to do anything but let go. One of those paradox's.
What I have recently begun to fully understand is that to let go is not to let go of just the focus of my addicts attention, but to release the addict herself. I have been so busy working like a bee on the minor details of drugs, food and boys that I always over look the mane problem. A case of spending my energy on the symptoms and not the cause. Which coming from a person who teaches others to look beyond the illness to the emotional cause, is odd. don't you think?
The problem is not the drug, the food or the boy. The problem is my addict, it's Lady Vixen. When I was in treatment I wrote so passionately about my gratitude towards Vixen for keeping me safe during my childhood. IT was my emerging addict that kept the feelings off fear, betrayal, hurt and anger from consuming me when I was that lost little girl. It was Lady vixen who taught me how to respond emotionally to my situations that kept me not only safe but growing. As I got older it was Vixen who taught me how to numb out the pain that was always on the surface wanting an outlet. It was my addict that brought joy to my life where only despair resided. My addict kept me alive for the first half of my life. In my letter to her I cried tears of deep thanks, without her I don't know how I would have gotten through it.
As my letter progressed I became aware of how toxic and controlling Lady Vixen had become in my life. Where my own inner joy was beginning to flourish she would kill it. Where my own growth was occurring she would jump in an stunt it. I was learning how much she needed to keep me in the place of childness. She only survived as my scared child thrived. Without that fearful little girl lady Vixen was nothing. In my letter I confidently put my adult foot down and said 'No More'. I showed all the places that Vixen was killing me as an adult. Where once she kept me protected now she threatened to destroy me. I bid farewell to Lady Vixen in that Letter. I sealed it with my tears and I never looked back.
That was two years ago.
Last night as I sat with tears over the pain that flows from me. Pain from my childhood. Pain for my lost youth. Pain for my misused time as an adult. Pain from all the hurt I played out through others because of my inability to walk through it on my own. The smell of weed wafted so seductively through my open balcony window. I inhaled deeply and knew that I could hold on if I wanted to. I thought of a bad boy I could call to distract me from my pain.
Instead my best friend and Sponsor texted me in that creepy way that friends know when something is really up. They kept me tethered as I had an out, a healthy out if I needed it. I stayed on my couch and let the waves of hurt wash over me...... and then I went to bed raw but clean.
I fell asleep knowing that Lady Vixen has finally left the building.
When I woke up I found a Moon flower in full bloom within my chest, with a note attached to it. 'You don't need me anymore, your Strong enough now. Love Lady V.' My heart aches with each new breath of expansion. My mind unsteady with each new step without my trusted other half.
Its finally a new day for me. Metaphors aside, I am done acting out, I am done using to numb out. I am done hurting people to avoid my own pain. I am just done with the old ways of my life. I am walking through the grief phase of letting go and oddly enough the tears feel wonderful. Such a strange thing these things called feelings.
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