The Buddhist path to recovery has had me considering more regularly that I am not the one who is sober, because I don't exist, so to speak. It certainly feels like I exist, especially in misery and suffering, or the dull fact of boredom, or the electrical fire of anxiety. But, instead of the gentle, nurturing and surrounding feeling of a loving God, the past year or so has more been characterized by relief through emptiness.
I'll take it wherever I can get it.
Anyway, as I turn 15, it becomes more and more clear to me that the serious issues I have now are with sexual, romantic and intimate relationships. These have always been a thorn in my side, since a very young age- maybe 13 or so, maybe younger. Most of the major suffering, sense of hopelessness, desperation, isolation, abandonment, exhilaration, joy, rightness and solidity of my life is attributable to romantic involvement. From the first girlfriend (where the two of us were talking about getting married and having children after being together for four months, when I was 17), to my current life, the longest stretch of time that I have been single has been nine months.
Slowly getting into relationship recovery over the past two years, after a while of being engaged in it (no pun intended) back in 2010, has been eye opening. It's also been interesting to see how all of my relationships, even the non-romantic ones, such as those with colleagues, friends, people in AA or CoDA, etc, have been problematic for years. More on all of this going forward into year 16 of sobriety, where the new intention is for emotional sobriety and well being.
I saw Dr. O for the first time in six months today, and told him I was not feeling resilient in the face of the loss of U, eye surgeries, prostate cancer, the challenges of finishing the dissertation. Contrary to what many people say about "Big Pharma" he did not suggest any new medication. In fact, he said it sounded normal and situational for me to be wrecked a lot of the time right now. He recommended I take it easy, he reduced the dose of buproprion to 150 mg extended release a day, and he referred me to a counselor. "You need to talk this stuff out more. Check back in, and if your circumstances have improved but you are still feeling awful, let's talk about meds." I found this incredibly reassuring on many levels. I have been beating myself up a lot lately for having feelings of sadness, anger, frustration, resignation, hopelessness, fear and resentment. The appointment and his advice puts it in perspective and helps me get a sense of my current situation.
As I have been saying, sometimes maybe whistling past the graveyard, the emotional turmoil that I am in these days seems proportional to the combination of health issues, grief, constant failure at the PhD and loneliness.
Meanwhile I embarked on a deep cleaning of my place this morning, and have a lot more of that to go. Getting ready to move at the end of July. I guess if I'm preparing at the beginning of April, I'm ready to get moving. I felt a certain amount of rebellious anger at depression this morning, recognizing the ways in which I have been under water the past few months. Barely, functionally dysfunctional.
By the basic rule of three degrees applying and two degrees departing, today also marks the beginning of my second Saturn return, with Saturn at 20 degrees 15 minutes Capricorn and at 23 degrees 17 minutes in my natal chart. The mythology around the first Saturn return is heavy indeed- limitation, restriction, The Tower collapsing because of unstable structures, tough transitions, accepting heavy responsibilities, etc- largely due to its timing around age 27 to 29 or so. In fact my first Saturn return roughly coincides with my trip to inpatient rehab. So it's a very special sobriety anniversary this year, and I think the second Saturn return will be good for me. There is less mythology around the second (or third for that matter), but the positive elements of structure, taking stock, taking inventory, consolidating, getting ride of broken or useless things, protecting myself and finding ways to engage in being a hermit all sound okay with me, considering the wildness and weirdness of the Pluto mythology that's been in the air. From Hades to Chronos, maybe a good thing? Let's hope I don't look too appetizing.
I've been reading Gorski's booklet, a transcription of an Adult Children of Alcoholics talk he gave in 1993, called "Addictive Relationships: Why Love Goes Wrong in Recovery." While he is awfully black and white concerning matters of the heart that in my opinion by necessity are messy, confusing and often painful, I'm being challenged by his framework- which is basically a recycling of John Bradshaw and, extending further back in the lineage, to Erik Erickson.
When he was invited to give the talk, he was asked to focus it on his idea of the answer to this question: "What is normal in a relationship?" His first approach was to go back to a more fundamental question: "How many people in America come from basically functional families?" His definition of a functional family:
"A functional family of origin is a family unit or home that basically equips a child with the necessary emotional, intellectual, and relationship skills to deal with life as an adolescent and as an adult. In a functional family, we learn to recognize what we feel, put labels on our feelings, and then tell other people about the feelings. Conversely, we gain the capacity to care about what others feel, to listen to their feelings, to respond to them.
A functional family also prepares children to cope intellectually with the world. It teaches them to think clearly and accurately without major denial. It teaches them to see reality more or less for what it is. And, finally, a healthy family teaches children how to relate in a productive manner through relationships with other human beings."
He estimates that about 20% of people have a functional family of origin. So any effort to find healthy and loving relationships is truly an effort to be abnormal in our culture, not normal. It is to find ways to be abnormally functional, "healthy" and capable of intimacy. I put the word "healthy" in scare quotes because I dislike the connotations. This is where I mildly depart from a lot of the black and white proclamations of Gorski and other helpers- I think it is perfectly alright to be dysfunctional and functional, both. I think, realistically, we are a mix of unskilled, unconscious patterns and skilled, capable responses which we have practiced. I think being in love with someone is bound to be messy and painful, and I don't think that is "unhealthy" or dysfunctional. I think some of the most beautiful, alive, vital and transforming experiences of my life have happened in that mess, chaos, intensity and mutual seeing with another human being. The recovery community can be intensely cynical and dismissive of romantic love.
At the same time, we grow and become more capable of reliable, trustworthy and true experiences. So to say, well, this is healthy and that is unhealthy- I find that emotionally shallow, shaming and an all too easy judgment to make when one is not in the maelstrom of fucking loving someone to goddamned death. I want to be capable of the whole range of love and feeling, but I also want as many skills as I can practice. U asks me, are you sad? I can't tell you how tempted I am to say Oh no, I am FINE. Just fine. How are you? But instead, I say, yeah, I am sad. Not asking you for anything, U, just telling you. Being honest. It's not yours, but our friendship is.
It seems like it is shaping up to be an interesting year.
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