FEELINGS
July 25, from “Strengthening My Recovery” daily reader
“People want recovery, but they prefer it be pain free. That is understandable, but unfortunately, identifying and feeling our feelings is a part of healing.” BRB Introduction p. xxiii
“Feelings? What are those?!” As children from dysfunctional homes, if we cried, many of us were told, “Stop crying or I’ll give you something to cry about!” If we openly showed our feelings, we risked being told we were stupid or that we’d never amount to anything. When our parents failed to show up at our special school events, we learned not to show hurt or disappointment. The more vulnerable we were, the more we were shamed. When we were verbally or physically abused, we pretended it didn’t happen. Our broken hearts shut down.
When many of us first come to ACA, we may have no idea how we’re feeling. We’ve been shut down for so long that numb feels normal. Our tears are frozen. Opening up to our feelings seems threatening and scary.
As we keep coming back, we learn to heal by developing trust in our fellow travelers. This feeling of trust can lead to the opening of the flood gates, an expression of emotion that eventually feels normal. As we release our old pain, we make room for discovering how to play and have fun again. We open our hearts and feel joy in our lives.
On this day I welcome all of my feelings, especially those that are unfamiliar and uncomfortable. I have the tools to work through them in order to mend my broken heart from childhood.”
My Experience:
I cannot tell you the countless baseball games, basketball games, soccer games, and football games that I had no one in the stands to watch me. Other people’s parents were impressed with my performance as I talked to some of those folks after the games and/or heard them speak of me while they sat in the stands. But I was heartbroken that I didn’t have my people there in the stands. I got so used to being alone that I stopped telling people about my accomplishments, because it never seemed to matter. In fact to this day I bet my mother, or my father, if he was still alive, even know I played soccer. How sad is that.
“I’ll give you something to cry about.” Just reading those words right now brings immense tension to my body. Those words were said so often that I shut my tears down. I vowed that no one would ever see me cry again. Even in those rare times that I allowed myself to cry, I did it in the shadows so no one could have an opinion about it. I didn’t even cry as I assisted my father during his last moments on earth. I was there the moment he died; I worked on the funeral arrangements and was of course there at the funeral. No tears though. It was not allowed. Today I cry!
Today I cry
I cried today
Remembering all those times that I could have been shown that I mattered
I cried today
Remembering with horror all those who molded me into a gladiator
I cried today
Remembering with grief those that could have shown some tenderness
I cried today
Remembering with contempt those that could have waited to pass judgement until they met me
I cried today
Remembering as the light of my smile dimmed
For I was a just a boy that had dreams and goals
A boy that wished to grow up and participate in the American Dream
Family, wife, children, good schools and good neighborhood
A boy that yearned to be shown what love and family look like
A boy, afraid to reach out for help, but wanted desperately not to be
Empty remains the yearning
Today I just cry
Blog: www.bkcoates.com
Instagram: bkcoates
Facebook: brian coates Twitter: @cornbread1 nObject(r)){l||