New Year

I have never been a New Year kinda gal.

Like, it's just another day.

I don't stay up until midnight for all of the hoopla.

I go to sleep at my normal 7 pm-ish and wake up the next day to a new day, a new year...

I've never been a new year's resolution kinda gal, either.

It's always seemed a bit silly to me that we set major goals on one day a year and then forget about them after six weeks, never to return to them.

I've always been a "let's keep going" kinda gal.

I've even been telling people that the last couple of weeks.

I think I've had a change of mind, however.

Isn't it rad how we get to change our mind??

And then say, "Hey! I changed my mind, Yo!"

I do feel very tangibly this New Year's Eve like tomorrow is sort of a clean slate.

Like when they say that you're fresh and new after you're baptized??

Like that.

Except I don't remember feeling fresh and new after I was baptized.

But I have heard that lots of people do feel that way.

I do feel a bit fresh and new today.

I do feel like this new year is a bit of a clean slate.

Much like I felt on June 24, 2019 - the day I began recovery.

I feel like my chalkboard has been not just erased, but like re-painted with that phenomenal chalk paint.

I feel like this year really is like a new start.

At least a newer start.

A start with the lessons learned from the last decade in my mind and heart.

Those lessons are a part of me, after all.

They don't define me, but they do help to make me who I am.

For that, I am grateful.

This fresh decade I am hoping for:

Less hospital stays.

Three more boys graduating from high school.

Continued emotional and mental healing.

More love and laughter in our home.

Will I have any daughter-in-laws in this decade?

Any grand babies?

Will I live in a home, instead of an apartment?

So many things to think about and look forward to!

Happy New Year's Eve, Loves.

Let's do this like a bunch of badasses!

Interventions

One of my favorite people on the planet messaged me on Saturday morning:

Hey. We are getting ready to go do an intervention with my brother. What do you suggest?

First and foremost, I am so grateful that people trust me with these scenerios.

So grateful.

I asked him what the goal was.

He said, "To have him get help."

And right then, my "intervention" of sorts flashed before my eyes.

I would say that I had two interventions.

The first one was absolutely ineffective. 

It was hurtful, threatening, full of anger and accusations.

I left that meeting feeling very rebellious, very unsure of my spiritual beliefs, very upset about the things that were said, and unwilling to listen to anyone who I deemed as knowing nothing.

The second one was very different, and thus eye-opening and started me on the course of therapy and treatment... recovery.

The difference was this:

The first one was a 15 minute meeting. It was with someone whom I had never spoken to. Ever. He was a clergyman - representing my faith and apparently my family.

My family had met with him in secret.

I was threatened with immediately losing my children, told that homes had been found for them. I was threatened with a complete lack of support from anyone and anything within my faith.

I was threatened with the government being involved in removing my children. 

Not once was I asked how I was, what was happening in my life, if I wanted to discuss anything...

I was accused of horrible things and threatened with outcomes.

The second one began after I spoke with my children, their father, my best friend, and our stake president.

My brother was there and expressed his opinions. He was not accusatory; he simply stated his feelings and perceptions.

Our Stake President told me that they would find the resources I needed to get help, and that they would support me through it. 

A therapist and a 12-step group were immediately secured for me. All I had to do was show up.

My best friend and my children were by my side the entire way. 

Through everything.

They still are.

Members of my family have remained very supportive, loving, and caring.

Others have not.

However, here is what I learned about interventions:

1. Have the right people there. This is not a production, People. This is not a "see, you're a failure and we are going to prove it here today." Only those who are completely necessary to have there should be there. Let me be clear: you do not know what you think you might know about your loved one's addiction. If you already have your pre-conceived ideas about who they are, what they are going through and what they need - you should not be there. 

2. Do not be accusatory. Don't threaten. Stand your ground? Yes. But, don't threaten. First of all, the fact that your loved one has an addiction means this - they are no longer able to make choices on their own. Their agency has been taken away by the addiction. Don't argue with the person. Don't raise your voice. 

3. Have a plan. Do you have a treatment center in mind? Do you have resources to a counseling center? A group? What is their insurance like? Are your ideas for treatment just going to put them in further turmoil regarding finances, work, etc.? These are all things that will create chaos and madness in an addict's mind. 

4. Have a prepared statement. Stick to two minutes. Read it. If you love them - tell them you love them! Tell them that you believe in them. Tell them that you, too, are willing to do research and get help if necessary. 

5. If this is a chemical addiction, you have to be really careful about medical care. You can't just throw out all of the alcohol. 

6. Be aware of this: the addiction is not the underlying problem. There is something else involved. Abuse. Neglect. Trauma. Mental illness. Loss. Void. Medical issues.

The alcohol is not the issue. It's the underlying reason why they began drinking alcohol that is the issue. That is the part that needs to be treated.

7. If you don't feel that you can participate in an intervention without becoming defensive, angry, bitter, or making it all about you - don't participate. Please.

The intervention that took place on Saturday went well. He felt loved. He felt supported. He understood. He recognized that he is an addict. (step one)

That was the easy part.

Now, the road to recovery.

Attraction

The law of attraction is the attractive, magnetic power of the Universe that draws similar energies together. It manifests through the power of creation, everywhere and in many ways. Even the law of gravity is part of the law of attraction. This law attracts thoughts, ideas, people, situations and circumstances.

Think about that.

What we do. Who we are. The way that we carry ourselves.

Our goals. Our morals. Our values. 

These things attract like-minded people.

Who we are attracts what we get. 

I'm kind of all kinds of focusing on this right now.

GoalsISH

The new year is upon us next week.

A new year.
A new decade.

Really, though - just another day!

Here's the thing:

I don't like to make new year's resolutions.

An entire year to focus on a goal is too long of a time span for me. 

I need to make goals that are very short-term, then build on them.

Short attention span, I suppose.

Goals are important.

SO important.

They need to be specific, measurable, attainable, relevant, and time specific.

Write them down.

Also, write down how you are going to accomplish them.

What are the steps?

How will you know if you succeeded?

Is it a goal that you need to work on every day for the rest of your life?

Make sure you make all of this known to yourself.

And, make yourself accountable.

Love yourself.

Reward yourself.

Keep going.

That's the most important part!

Get Back Up

Christmas Eve, I found myself really struggling with an onset of a lot of different emotions.

I worked until 1 pm, then went home and went right to my bed.

When Braxton got home, he came in and asked me what was wrong.

I just only knew that I was feeling "depressed."

He told me to take a nap and that if I was still asleep, he would do Christmas Eve traditions with Brothers, and not wake me.

I couldn't believe that I was struggling on Christmas Eve!

I laid in bed for a time.

Then, I got up.

I got up!

I went to the gym before it closed.

I walked and I stretched and I squatted and I did breathing exercises.

When I left, I felt a tiny bit better.

I stopped by the store and ran into my Kaydon, who Braxton sent to get some last minute things.

As we walked around the store together, we talked about how both of us are feeling.

Having Brooklyn over was such a combination of emotions:

Joyful, Exciting, Love, Glee, Anxiety, Sadness, Grief, Emptiness.

Having Jackson in Chile during the holiday has brought on a combination of emotions:

Pride, Gratitude, Happiness, Sadness, Anxiety, some Grief.

Doing holidays differently now has brought on a combination of emotions:

Gratitude, Relief, Fear, Sadness, Anger, Gratitude, Harmony, Love.

For a girl who has just started feeling in the last six months, that is a lot to deal with.

We have really started talking about feelings in our home.

I am quick to ask my children how they FEEL and then to talk about it in different situations.

When Kaydon and I got home, we opened our Christmas Eve pajamas from my mom.

We ate some pizza.

Mama went to bed.

Kaydon and Colton stayed up watching movies.

Braxton set up shop downstairs so that he could take care of his Santa duties.

We got back up.

We always do.

Our Family in a Nutshell!

Uh huh.

Clark Griswold is our person!

We don't have a chimney.

But, it doesn't matter.

We DO have a bunch of nutcases in our nuthouse!

My Strange Addiction

 This morning, whilst getting ready, I was watching My Strange Addiction.

I haven't seen that show for years.

Quite frankly, my children and I used to watch that show and make fun of these people.

We used to call them "Crazy," "Wackadoodles," "Nuts!"

We used to say how this just could not be real and "what is their problem??"

Oh my.

How my thoughts have changed.

How my interpretation of that show and those people have changed.

I literally cried this morning while I watched that show. 

One of the men on the show today was 20 years old.

A student.

He is addicted to blow up pool toys.

For real.

As he talked to his cousin about it, his cousin (I felt, from an addict point-of-view) handled the conversation so beautifully. 

He expressed his concern so lovingly, reminding him that he loves him and supports him, but that he is worried that this addiction will cause him to have very unhealthy human relationships.

His cousin asked him if he would be willing to speak to a therapist.

Then, he went with him.

*Perfect*

It turned out that this man had a neglectful mother.

He felt that he would never be able to receive the love from humans, due to that relationship, that he perceives he is receiving from fake objects.

Therefore, he turned to blow up pool toys for connection.

To express his feelings to.

Yes, that might sound extreme and it might even make people laugh.

Please don't.

Please don't do what I did for my whole life and belittle these people.

Another woman is addicted to licking her cat, to clean the cat as a mother cat would.

Again, it sounds extreme.

It sounds disgusting.

But, as she spoke about it she expressed the connection she feels to her cat when she does this for her.

She feels that she is bonding with a living thing.

She feels that she is able to nurture and care for a living creature and that in return, the cat loves her back and comes to her for that need to be met.

Extreme?

Perhaps.

But real.

Here's the thing about addiction that I have learned:

We are ALL seeking connection.

We are ALL seeking a feeling of belonging.

Addictions fill voids.

And, remember this.

I heard in that show many times from family members and friends of these addicts:

"Just stop it!"

"Seriously. You are sick."

"You need to stop it."

First of all, yes addicts are sick.

That's not something to joke about.

Second, addicts CANNOT JUST STOP.

Please, please, please for the love of everything holy don't be me prior to realizing I was an addict and thinking, "Uh... just knock it off."

We can't JUST STOP.

I am looking forward to another day, another month, another year to continue to work on my recovery.

It's a marathon.

It's not a sprint.

My recovery will take the rest of my life.

And, that's okay.

Strengths

Years ago, while working at the College, we did a Strength's Quest test.

We, meaning myself, our Director and every lead in the department.

I went into the whole thing pretty irritated that we had to do it.

Like, what a waste of time.

Turns out, I have not stopped talking about it over the last nine years, or so!

It was such a great activity for our entire team to do.

First of all, these tests that you take determine your top five strengths.

Secondly, the top five strengths of the entire team are charted and made available to everyone.

That might seem like a boundary has been crossed in regards to confidentiality.

However, it was so eye-opening.

It really made for a stronger team atmosphere.

We were all able to see how each of us work and what our strengths and weaknesses are.

My director, RRH, was completely in the strategic thinking category, while I was completely in the relationship building category.

Those two categories are just about as different as you can get!

The other really great thing about this process was that we were taught that ALL strengths have a balcony and a basement.

My number one strength is empathy.

Well, that basement is so low that it's in the depths of Hell - pretty sure!

And, ironically, I have never had self empathy.

Anyway, I totally recommend doing this strengths finder test and process within families and teams.

It's a great way to really help you each understand each other and what your thought process is and what works best when communicating.

Affirmations

We have talked about this a lot on this blog and on Heidicction Lives.

Affirmations.

When people are at an inpatient facility dealing with addiction, affirmations are something that are taught, and repeated daily.

Yes, addicts stand in front of the mirror and repeat affirmations to themselves.

It's a thing.

And, it's not even that weird of a thing.

12-step groups teach the very same thing.

If you think about it, and as I have tried to pound into my own dang head -

Addictions are not brought about because someone loves to do whatever it is they are doing.

Addictions come about because there is something missing from or broken in the person.

Addiction is brought on by abuse, neglect, pain, trauma, void.

Therefore, it makes complete sense that we would start with something as simple as repeating affirmations to our amazing selves in front of a mirror daily.

And, it's not even hard!

Get out of the shower.

While drying off, repeat the following:

We ARE worthy of love.

i.e. We ARE loveable.

Our worth is completely separate from our performance.

i.e. Our worth is not up for discussion. It is unchangeable.

We ARE enough.

i.e. Shout this one from the rooftops. We are ALL enough.

Our story matters.

i.e. Our story matters so much. Tell your story. It's yours to tell.

We don't have to earn God's love.

i.e. It's already there. It's more abundant than our mortal minds can grasp. No matter what we do, or don't do, it's there. It's all we need, really.

We belong.

i.e. Everyone belongs. We are worthy of belonging. Find your table. Find your seat at that table. 

Soul Work

This quote is on the money.

I do believe that the term "self care" is often perceived to be unicorns and cinnamon rolls at our dispense.

Like, the greatest of all greats.

It's not.

It's really not.

There are parts of it that are comforting and that physically feel good.

There are parts of it where our soul truly feels fed and enveloped with peace and abundance.

But, there are really hard parts about self care as well.

Those are no less self care than the really tough, treacherous parts.

My path into recovery from addiction and my counseling through enormous holes in my soul began very painfully.

Physically painful.

Mentally painful.

Emotionally disastrous.

That is kind of the point.

Without those feelings, we would never know comfort and peace and abundance.

We would never recognize that feeling when our soul, our spirit, feels full of goodness.

It has not yet felt like a high road to me... well maybe it has...

Since the stroke, altitude is not my friend.

I get altitude sickness quickly.

I vomit and vomit and vomit at high altitude and windy roads.

So, in that case - it has felt just like that.

But, it has certainly felt like an unprotected fall into unforgiving darkness.

Confusion.

Shock.

Shame. 

Disappointment.

Fear.

Anger.

Sadness.

Exhaustion.

I still have not found the song that sings me home.

That is because my recovery is not over.

In fact, it is far from over.

It is just beginning.

We are ALL still on training wheels.

The S Word

The S word.

Not shit.

Not suck.

Not suck the suck.

Not scrub the toilet.

Shame.

Read these quotes.

These three quotes are the essence of what I felt for 41 years.

Unworthy of love and belonging.

Capable of courage.

Disconnected.

Depressed.

Eating disorder.

Addiction.

This word is really the worst of the "feeling" words, in my opinion.

It is sort of the catch-all of the negative feelings.

And it is brutal.

It is painful.

It is debilitating.

It is bad.

And, it is worse when we ignore it.

When we shove it into that closet where all of our feelings hide out...

It grows and develops into an absolute monster.

So, what do we do with the S word?

We notice it.

For instance:

Lately, I have been feeling shame about going to the gym.

So, this is what I tell myself:

"I can feel that I am in shame. I feel it in my body not feeling worthy of being there with all of the fit people. I feel it in my wanting to just stay in bed. I hear it in my head, loud and clear - maybe if I lose weight or focus on fasting... I feel you and I hear you, Shame. 

And, in fact I have a chair for you at my table.

But, I am no longer interested in your feedback.

You don't get to have a voice anymore.

I am worthy.

I am enough."

And, that is literally what I have to do with feelings.

I have to have a conversation with them!

That is how I am noticing them.

Not ignoring them.

That is how I put a name to the feeling.

Then I ask myself why I am feeling this feeling.

Feelings are never dangerous.

Some of them just need to come, then go.

Others need to be looked at just a bit closer for information on what we need to do about them.

Then, I either act on them or I let them go and move on.

I know what it is like to feel DESPERATE for worthiness and connection and belonging.

It is the entire essence of my addiction.

It IS my addiction.

So, I keep practicing.

I keep working.

I keep reminding myself, hourly, that I am enough.

My worth has never been in question.

And, we can do hard things.

The Shit-Starter

Curiosity really is scary.

And scary is okay.

It's not dangerous.

Curiosity allows us to explore and learn and grow.

It helps us to know better who we are and what we want.

It allows us to try new things.

Yes, it also teaches us what we don't want and where we shouldn't be.

It teaches us to listen to our "gut." 

People, our gut is the Spirit.

F to the Y to the I.

Be curious!

Even if it is a shit-starter and I'm a shit-stirrer!

An Open Letter to Insecurity

Isn't this picture so beautiful?

Look at how individual and exquisite that log is.

It stands out, doesn't it?

It's so unique and wondrous.

It makes me feel proud of that log.

It is in that pile like a boss.

As if it doesn't even notice that it's different or damaged or broken.

Or, perhaps, it does notice that it is not like all the others and it is marking its spot because it KNOWS it belongs.

 Look at the growth around that rotten circle there.

I think to myself, "What did my log friend endure during those years of 'damage?'"

What kind of storms did it weather?

Did it sit in a forest alone?

Or, was it surrounded by a village that buoyed it up and loved it because it was so resilient?

This log, I've gently named Heidi 2.0, is just my most favorite visual.

And, speaking of Log Heidi 2.0...

I have something I want to say to Insecurity and Invalidation.

Although I have actually brought a chair to the table for Fear, Shame and Comparison (which together are the Insecurity Family), I have rules and regulations.

It is my table, after all.

They are welcome at my table.

I know they are at my table every moment of every day.

I see them and I hear them and I feel them right next to me, or directly across the table from me.

I even set them a place there.

Forks on the left, knife and spoons on the right.

I remind them to put their napkin in their laps, even.

Manners.

However, they are no longer allowed to give me any feedback.

I will no longer listen to their voices.

It is not welcome at MY table.

Their opinions are not worthy of  being voiced.

There are others at my table, as well.

My children, of course.

Courage has a spot.

Strength has a spot.

Compassion, Grace and Love all have spots.

And, me.

I sit at the head of my own table.

Sometimes, too, the Insecurity Family brings friends and allies.

They are in the human form.

I can put a leaf extension in the table and we can make room for them.

I will ensure they have proper silverware, napkins and water.

But the rules are the same for them as they are for the Insecurity Family.

Their opinions won't be heard at my table.

And, should they be voiced over my objection they will then be dismissed.

My table is a safe place.

Where rest is felt.

Where there are all feelings and all are valid.

Where feelings are not dangerous.

Where love and courage and strength and fatigue and sadness and fear and anger and joy and peace and anxiety are all felt, honored, and exercised.

Where we all make mistakes and bad choices.

Where we are loved anyways.

Where we are all aware that our worth and value is never in question.

Ever.

Where we will never not be enough.

Look Within

I haven't posted about this little gem for a minute. 

Inside of my room at IMC was a glass sign.

Rand began writing on it each day;

Or having me write on it from my wheelchair.

My writing was lower because I couldn't reach.

Everyday, Rand would read to me.

He would read the scripture and the Tao to me.

He would then ask me about what he read (which was literally like a paragraph before I would zone out again).

This was to help my comprehension and my ability to focus for a few minutes at a time.

It was also because I could not have any technology at all.

No TV.

No phone.

No nothing.

He would play Christmas music in between therapy sessions, meals, showering, and reading.

We had this amazing routine that we did every day.

And, on the days (2) when he wasn't there the entire day, whoever was in charge of me (Kalynn or T) was given instructions on what to and what not to do.

This sign caught the eyes of everyone.

People would ask about the words on it.

It became a really great connection piece in the hospital.

"Fight" came from a nurse's aid at the U.

She had a mini-stroke a year prior to me being there.

She would come in every morning and say, "Honey, FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT."

"Vision" came from me staring outside, unable to really see with my eyes, but more and more capable of seeing with my heart.

This has only intensified over the last two years.

"Build" came from the therapists constantly telling me that every single little thing I did was HUGE, and even unexpected. They would tell me each day that we would just build on it.

"Slowly" was the same idea.

I hated that word.

It was not in my character to go at anything slowly.

I would cry and cry and cry every time one of the doctors would tell me that this would be slow.

When they would leave, Rand would close the door and turn out the lights and have me rest.

Then, it was "go time" again when I would wake up.

Go-time meant coloring (he would sit me up in my wheelchair and pull the tray table over to me with my markers and a piece of paper).

It took me three weeks to color one paper.

But, it was beautiful.

I did it all by myself.

Slowly.

And, he reminded me of that lesson daily.

There are so many words on there that I am not good at, still.

Patience. Allow. Just be.

But, I know them to be important.

That room was a room full of the Spirit.

Everyone would mention the "different feeling" in our room.

It was full of hope and faith and trust because that was all we had!

We prayed often.

Like, all the time.

We invited others to pray with us.

There were so many tears in that room.

I know he won't read this, ever, but I have something to say to the above-referenced Rand.

Rand LeRoy-

You are brave.

You are full of strength.

You are light in the darkness.

You have described your fears and feelings of being overwhelmed.

You were told I would die.

The girl you loved.

It was December.

Your daughter and her husband were coming home from a different continent any day.

Your mind was stuck on: I need to adopt the four boys and move them to Orem and get that apartment cleaned out.

I need to make sure that Heidi's quality of life is full and good.

I need to comfort the boys.

I need to figure all of this out.

Then I started to recover in miraculous ways.

Now what?

You were there every single day.

You washed me.

You clothed me.

You learned how to pull my hair back.

You rescued me on two choking occasions, then decided that peas and green beans would no longer come to me.

You were there when I sat up the first time, rolled over the first time, and walked the first time.

That first step, you ran onto the apparatus and lifted me up in the hair... sobbing.

WE had done it.

You took care of the boys, and your own kids, and ran your business from a hospital room in Murray.

You then took me home to your house so that they would discharge me prior to Christmas.

You did the holidays for everyone.

By yourself.

Once at your house, you fed me every meal.

Made sure I followed a schedule of yoga, meditation, reading, coloring, showering, going for independent walks (with Tipper).

You continued to take care of the kids (all of them).

Then, it was time for me to go home and be with my boys.

Still unable to drive.

Still unable to do most things, the boys took turns caring for me.

Doing my hair.

Shopping.

Cooking.

Laundry.

Cleaning.

Washing me.

Clothing me.

Giving me my meds.

Taking me to appointments.

Teaching me how to drive.

And, we broke up.

Rand, I will forever love you to the moon.

Thank you.

Thank you for all of it.

So much of it I will never understand.

I will never understand the toll that took on you emotionally, mentally and physically.

Thank you.

50%

I have no doubt that God leads my recovery.

None.

He makes sure that the right people are in my path at all times EVEN when I am not deserving of it - or at least when I don't FEEL deserving of it.

At my med check on Monday, our family doctor (who is literally a God send) and I were having a discussion.

We were talking about that awesome lesson I learned last week - 

That feelings are GOOD.

That we can't actually choose our FEELINGS.

That feelings aren't bad, or even dangerous.

Then he said that he was listening to a podcast with a neuro psychologist.

She said this:

If you are HAPPY 50% of the time, you are doing pretty good.

Praise that neuro psych!

Amen and Hallelujah!

He talked about the swinging pendulum.

Our feelings go back and forth and up and down.

Our thoughts create feelings.

If we aren't careful, our feelings create our attitude.

There is no need to worry until we stay at one end, or the other, of that pendulum.

Is that not the best Christmas news ever?!

Y'all are welcome.

So, wipe off your britches.

We have some swinging to do!

Not that kind of swinging...

We have some feelings to feel, though!

And, it's OK!!!

Abstinence is Not the Same as Recovery

My last appointment with my Katryna was last Wednesday.

I had a whole list of things to talk to her about.

I walked in, plopped my bum down on the cozy couch and pulled my paper out.

She said, "I have some things I want to talk to you about."
Well, by all means!

You go first, I told her.

She stood up and wrote on the white board - all fancy and teacher-like...

"Abstinence is not the same as recovery."

?????

Day one of recovery saw this girl diving head-first, fully clothed, into the deep end of abstinence... and this girl is terrified of water.

I was all-in with abstinence.

Everything I did, and didn't do, revolved around abstinence.

And, I have succeeded at abstinence.

However, that's NOT recovery.

Damnit.

Remember how a pretty long time ago, I talked about how addicts really do replace addiction with another addiction.

It's like a game.

That no one really wins.

Katryna said that, although she is crazy proud of my abstinence, I have started doing things to avoid feelings again.

True.

An example of that is business.

Now, let's be real for a minute.

I AM crazy busy.

Raising children by myself, with no co-parent;

Literally working four jobs;

Running a household;

Trying to manage self care.

I am busy.

However, at times over the last few weeks I have REALLY busied myself up even more than what is usual.

Katryna explained that there is nothing wrong with being busy.

It's WHY I am so busy that is the issue.

Here's some more examples:

WHY do I go to the gym?

For health and so I don't harm humans

OR 

For validation

This one I can answer because it's my place where I go for me and to get my head connected to my body.

WHY do I post selfies with quotes?
To sell makeup and skin care

OR 

For validation.

I took a week off of social media to really think about this one because I wasn't sure.

I think that there were times when I WAS looking for validation from outside sources.

Therefore, I am very intentional now when I post.

I ask myself, and am very honest with myself, about why I post ANYTHING.

WHY do I door dash every single dang night?

Is it for a particular financial situation

OR 

Is it to make myself insanely busy and without rest?

The only way to know your why's is to be honest with yourself.

This has been a great lesson for me!

Recovery is a journey.

I am far from recovery.

Recovery for me will look like this:
Heidi no longer seeks, or even thinks about, outside validation.

Heidi KNOWS who she is and where she came from and knows her worth.

She no longer needs to be reminded of it through outside sources.

And, I have a long ways to go!

I've Reserved a Seat

If you are friends with me on Facebook, you have seen and heard me talking about my ah-ha moment on Saturday whilst at the gym.

My depression for the last two weeks has been about an 8/10.

It has pronounced itself through laziness, fatigue, tears, and no desire to do or be anything.

I have found myself in bed at 5:30.

No gym.

No dashing.

Just there.

As it crept higher and higher on that scale of 1 - 10, I began to feel unworthy to go to the gym.

Unworthy and even frightened to door dash.

Guilty for laying in my bed, yet unable to do anything else.

Saturday, I got up and went to the gym.

All the while, feeling shame, fear, and comparison almost taking over my head space.

Have you been there?

Where nothing good can even get into your head space because it's so full of depressive thoughts?

That's where I was.

I decided to watch a U99 presentation by Brene Brown.

People, this woman has it freaking figured out when it comes to vulnerability and shame.

Her presentation was based on this quote:

Please go watch the presentation.

BUT, here is what I took from it.

Fear, shame and comparison are ever-present in our audience.

Wherever we are.

In our arenas.

Could be at work. Could be at home. Could be in the gym. Could be in the goals that we have set for ourselves. Could be ANYWHERE.

She talked about how most of her life, she had tried everything possible to make those three "guests" go away. If there weren't there, she would perform so much better.

Then, she realized that they weren't going anywhere.

So, she has reserved seats for them in her life.

There is always a seat for fear, shame and comparison.

The difference is that she is no longer willing to listen to their feedback.

This goes for people in our lives, as well.

And, she says this:

While I was on the treadmill, watching this, I began to cry.

Surrounding me, all up in my head space were fear, shame and comparison. 

I literally said to them, in my head:
"I see you. I feel you. I know you are here. You are welcome to stay. There is a place for you here. However, I am no longer willing to hear your feedback. Because also here is strength, courage, compassion, faith, joy, grace, and love. So much love. Those are the guests I am willing to hear from."

That goes for people in our lives, as well.

You are welcome to be here.

There will always be a seat for you if you choose to come.

However, I am no longer interested in your feedback.

If you aren't in the arena also getting your ass kicked, I'm not interested in your feedback.

AND,

One more thing...

I need to stop looking for validation from strangers at Walmart.

From the people at Church whose name I know not.

There are people in my life who hold my hair back when I puke.

Who drive for an hour and a half one way to tickle my back until I fall asleep.

Who wipe my tears when I cry.

Those are the people who have valid feedback.