Sobriety has given me the foundation needed, to start addressing the trauma I've experienced.
The chances of a person who experiences trauma in childhood becoming an addict is high and I know I'm one of millions. That doesn't make it less painful but it does seem worth sharing how I cope with trauma now its not lying in a drug or alcohol induced coma. The first step was hard and its one I took before getting sober, I made a sensitive-claim through ACC here in New Zealand were I live (maybe called something else to you). I made this claim through a General Practitioner, I received a claim number that I was able to use to engage with a clinical psychologist trained in counselling people with the kinds of trauma I experienced. For the first year, I saw her every week. Now I see her fortnightly, I also took a 9 month break before reengaging recently. Treatment needs to fit in with lifestyle and I need the freedom to come and go. It took a while to remove the walls and masks. I used to attend my appointments in a polished state. Hair was blow-dried, styled. Make-up meticulously applied. Clothes paired carefully. I looked put together. And looking put together helped me to feel that way. Truth was that when I first attended counselling I was falling apart. I was suicidal and I was scared. The walls and masks have come away now and I'm so thankful they have. It was so tiring holding it all together in a place I needed to let myself fall. Yesterday I attended counselling in track pants with wild hair and a clean face. Now... I let myself fall apart during the hour we have. I cry. I swear. I speak with no filter. For me, counselling is proving to help. There are things that are still unfolding today that if I didn't have a trained counselor to share it with, I'm not sure I'd still be sober.
I'm not alone when I share that my years of drugging and drinking completely screwed with my emotions and removed any resilience to feel the things that hurt. I'm so thankful to report that 11 months of sobriety and counseling has changed that. The slightest upset used to see me sculling bottles of wine. The slightest upset would turn into something much worse. I have resilience now. I can feel things that hurt. I can cope with raw emotion. My firstborn, recently moved her sweet self and my almost 4 year old grandson, (whom I adoringly refer to as my Sunshine), to Australia to live. And instead of blurring my emotions with bottles of wine, I felt it. I felt it all. I can recall the precious time spent with them in the weeks leading up to their departure. I can recall the sound of my Sunshine's voice telling me he loves me. I can savour the memory of the night before their flight spent with my Sunshine, how he jumped between the beds in our hotel room with smiles and laughter. How he snuggled into me and fell asleep then woke with me at 3am with a smile telling me, "I love you Nonna". And while it hurt to say goodbye to my precious daughter and my Sunshine, I am beyond grateful that I was absolutely present and sober.
Recovery is not all roses. sometimes its confronting and plain hard. Sometimes the guilt and pain that surround many memories become too heavy. I've recently discovered a new tool that helps. I imagine the pain as small pebbles in my pocket and when my pockets are full, I empty them. There are two pockets in my imaginary coat. The pockets are deep. When I'm safe in bed, I reach in and I take them out one by one and I hand them over. I hand them to God. When my pockets fill up but I'm too busy with the day, I imagine my pain is a big old beaten up truck with rust and a kind face. I get in and I park it beside grass and trees. The memories that cause pain used to consume me and drugging and drinking them away seemed to be the only possible respite but by imagining the pain as a separate physical thing, an old truck, the pain is removed from me a little.
Sobriety has given me the foundation to build a life and all the things I was attempting to escape, the things that almost broke me completely, they just aren't so scary now.
