The Calm

 

     “The Calm”

 

“If you act anxiously to hasten your results you delay their arrival.  Calm poise reveals the shortest route home.”

Alan Cohen

 

 

For most of my adult life I have lived on a bit of an emotional roller coaster.  I have swung from high to low and seldom had the privilege of coasting in what I call “the calm” for any length of time.  I used to tell people that I hated the swing and that I longed to stay in the middle more.  But truth be told there was always a part of me that craved the Adrenalin rush of the highs and the maudlin familiarity of the lows, because when I was in the middle, I had to face too many things.

“The Calm” is where everyday life occurs and daily routines are established and play out.  It is where the basis for happy memories are established and it is where the foundation of successes are built.  But it is also where long-buried demons lay dormant.

In the highs, nothing negative could touch me.  In the lows, I felt at home, safe in the dank embrace of miserable immobility.  But in “the calm”, anything can happen at any time.  I used to feel on edge in the mundanity of the everyday, constantly on alert waiting for the other shoe to drop.  While in the soup aisle at the grocery store a dragon from the past would roar up unexpectedly out of nowhere and have me shaking with muscle memory and PTSD.  An innocent tap on the shoulder while in line at the check-out line turned into an attack from a potential predator and I would jump out of my skin.  One of my children entering my bedroom in the middle of the night to ask me a question would become my molester and I would scream, scaring us both.  On a long and boring commute my mind would wander and a creature of memory would rise from the murky depths to pull me under when I was all but defenseless.

I was never defended enough to live in that state for long.  Now, however, I have the tools I need.  After this last stay in rehab in July of 2021, I did a lot of work… a lot.  I participated in an intensive relapse prevention program that helped me to examine my patterns.  It helped me to identify the things I do way before I pick up a drink – in essence the relapse that happens before the relapse.  I also attended a trauma group that had me explore, through psychodrama, unresolved grief and guilt I had over Liam’s untimely death.  To speak aloud how I felt my body betrayed us both was like allowing Atlas’ burden to shrug from my own shoulders.  To lay that spectral pain down at my feet was so profound and the relief I felt from it was oceanic.

I also met with a psychiatrist who changed my medication and for the first time I felt my mind shift to a place of peace. I have been diagnosed and re-diagnosed with so many disorders over the years that I feel like mental health professionals have been spinning a veritable Wheel of Fortune and landing on something new each time I did an intake.  I no longer even care what the diagnoses is as long as this medication regimen stays put now.

One of the many things I learned in relapse prevention is that before I pick up a drink and relapse, I start taking on too many things.  I start believing I can do it all and saying “yes” to everything.  So in order to handle “the calm” and all that comes with it – the memories, nightmares and demons that rear up to be dealt with – I am moving slowly and with peaceful intention.

“The Calm” is now actually my happy place.  I get to be “me” here – my authentic self, awkward and content; full of love and grateful for every mundane and beautiful moment.  I have learned to slow down… Because life is so often lived in the moments lived between the lines.