Guarding "The Holes"
You know that recovery poem about falling in the same hole over and over again. The basic gist is you keep falling in the hole, and each time you do the length of time you stay in the hole gets shorter, until you learn to walk around it and eventually don't even go down the street with the hole. In the poem it is broken down step by step by the progress made with the goal of not going down the 'bad' street anymore.
Well, I've been jumping into this gigantic hole with the expectations that this time I will make it work for me, only to be swallowed by this hole and not finding a way out. I've been in it officially for three days, but it has been an on going thing for years and well, today I couldn't get out of it no matter how hard I tried. In fact by today I'd found me a huge 2 x 4 in the hole and did nothing but beat the living crap out of myself for being such a worthless person who can't even walk her dogs. That's right, all over walking the dogs when I'm in a place of mental and physical weariness and just can not do it. Yet I kept pushing and forcing myself and in my defeat I berated myself to what felt like close to death. Guilt and shame began filling in on me. I was being buried alive. The only difference with today was I didn't dig the hole deeper. Usually I will start tunneling to find a place to hide from myself in order to stop the beatings. Today I stood looking at the bottom of this hole and just stared at the small puddle at my feet. I must have decided I wasn't going any further. It was progress. HUGE progress. Finally when I could take no more, I called my lifeline, my husband and told him to tell me, I don't have to walk the dogs. And he did. And I started to breathe as I was able to give myself permission to drop the baseball bat out of my hands. I couldn't do it alone. I was so far down, battling myself and the abuser in me was winning. I couldn't trust myself anymore. When I looked to the dogs for help all I saw was their misery and contempt for me. I couldn't trust what I thought they were thinking of me and the horrible dog mom I am. I was letting them down...again. It didn't matter the reasons. We've been down this low road before. No energy, struggling thoughts and motivation and a killing sense of apathy.
I must have begun to do some clawing at the walls, because I found myself flipping back and forth between it was OK (not to walk dogs) and the worst thing I could do. But I could never settle on a final decision that I could trust. I needed someone more trusting than me to help me make that decision. I knew what I needed, not to walk my dogs, I just needed someone to confirm it for me. That's where hubby came in and I finally got the hand I needed to help pull me out. It worked.
Now the question is, will I jump in next time or just fall?