Today was a rough one. All day, I’ve had the feeling of an elephant sitting on my chest, waking up in a funk that never passed.
I live in a medium sized city. Traffic is minimal, people are friendly, and crime is low. I work at an unsatisfying office job at a company that allows me good flexibility, incredible benefits (I get 30 massages a year covered by insurance. 30!), and a livable wage. I own my house that was built in 1900, with plenty of little projects to do and character that I love. I have a wonderful family, a sweet daughter and a silly kitten. Even with all this, I felt an acute sense of lack.
3 distinct things played into my feeling of lack today: First, I cut my thumb about 3 months ago on a broken bowl and lacerated my tendon AND nerve, so I’ve been 1 handed since. So. Frustrating. Physical therapy today was difficult and nothing had changed. I’m waiting for the day when I walk in and it’s miraculously fixed. Instead, I have about a year of physical therapy ahead of me.
Second, not long before I was about to head home from work, there was news that a fugitive was potentially loose in my side of town. The thought made me uneasy, but I decided to go home anyway. As I was driving home, I got caught in the area where the police officers had indeed caught the fugitive and there were gunshots with 3 people being hit not far from where I was. With all the hate and violence that has been in the news lately, this hit hard. I felt unsafe in my only safe zone.
Third, when I got home, there were 3 beers chilling in the fridge. I knew that The Boyfriend had met a friend for beers that afternoon, but seeing those beers instantly gave me a feeling of relief; like THAT is what I needed to get this elephant off my chest. Of course, I closed the fridge and made some tea, but later, a bottle of wine was opened and I had the same visceral reaction, but this time, when I realized I couldn’t have any, it hurt. BAD. I realized I don’t have a coping skill to replace the drinking I did after a sad and difficult day.
A month ago, I would have immediately poured myself some of that Paso Robles Cab Sav gold as soon as I got home, played a game with my daughter and waited until she went to sleep to make myself some delicious whiskey drink (it IS Friday after all), to deliberately un-feel the feels. Un-feel all the uncomfortable feelings. Plus, I would have felt “happy”.
Not having a way to move past these feelings seems so crazy. How hard could it be?! Just about as hard as breaking a 10 year habit. Writing this feels good. I think I’m going to go to a Refuge Recovery meeting tomorrow, and like I mentioned in my last post, meditate. Finding something to relieve this feeling is a major priority. Ick.
On a positive note, I’M DOING IT! I’m sitting in the muck. I’m feeling the feels, and by some miracle, I’m still alive. Go me! 🙂