In order to heal

we need to feel

I am attending a trauma-release through yoga workshop today.

And this line was something that is put within the description.

It sounds hokey, for sure, the quippyness, the rhyme of it all.

And yet, such truth.

So many of us attempt to mask pain or engage in some sort of escapism—whether that’s through substance abuse, where you pick your poison—narcotics, alcohol, coke, etc. Or maybe it’s through sex or gambling or over-eating or work-aholism, zoning out to video games.

There are all sorts of methods we humans use in avoidance.

I readily admit I have self medicated through alcohol—a dangerous practice, given my family’s history of alcoholism.

And, as many who have struggled with active substance abuse addiction have noted, when you numb in this way, you de-sensitize yourself not only to the bad, but also to the good.

I understand that then pushing yourself to do things that are scary, to make yourself really feel all the emotions, it does make you feel all the more raw and vulnerable, but it is a vital part of that recovery for those individuals.

In complete candor, for me and my case, I felt overwhelmed, all-consumed. I couldn’t process all the trauma and grief at once. It was too much. And I still had shit to do—for the longest time.

I had to finish my doctorate. Care for my mother. Move. Work amidst another suicide. I was in shock. I couldn’t sleep. My body was in flight mode and my cortisol was in over-drive.

And I over-consumed wine. I did. To sleep. To calm down. To make it all freeze for a moment. But I also stopped my grieving.

When I stopped, my mental state improved. But there are also all the residual feelings of grief to address. That was so important for healing. But that was hard too.

I still process my lost babies, my mother’s death. I am still processing the levels of emotional abuse I endured. I still process the two suicides.

But without escapism, I am feeling all the feels. Yet, that includes the good things too.

It’s often times overwhelming if I’m emotional or it’s a bad grief day.

But, I am healing now. I probably will never stop.

But I am honoring my body. I am taking care of myself, my body and my mind. I am gentle with myself. Tending to my wounded inner child, grief-stricken heart and broken spirit. Taking my maternal and nurturing love that I learned so well from my dearest mama, and I am finally taking seriously that semi colon that I see every time I look at the middle finger on my right hand:

I am choosing life. I am choosing to go on.

And I realize that that no longer means just not taking a gun to my head or depleting my health in passive suicide. It also means no longer escaping and self-medicating or half-existing.

I have had to feel the feels to get to the good stuff too.

You can’t have one without the other.