It feels as if I have been absent from my blog for far too long. And in true Tia fashion I am back with a very long, and very necessary post.
"I don't wanna live to waste another day underneath the shadow of mistakes I've made..." Shinedown, "Breaking Inside"November 3, 2014
Usually I don’t ask myself, how much sharing is too
much? How much vulnerability is too
much? How much transparency is too
much? But I came to a point within the
last couple of months in which I began to wonder about sharing a particular
piece of my story.
Robin Roberts said, “Make your mess your message.” And I agree with that statement. There’s treasure buried within our stories,
our challenges, our heartache, our pain, our love, our joy. It is through the digging deep within all of
those parts of us, and gathering the treasure that lies in wait for us there,
and then sharing that, that we can live in service to ourselves and
others. I believe deeply in the
importance of that.
Yet, there is a tiny piece of my story I have not
shared. And a seed was planted,
seemingly out of nowhere, (but I know it was in fact a message from my Soul),
which asked the question, do I share that particular piece? Would there be a benefit to others and
myself? What would the implications be,
if any? I had to sit with that and gain
clarity, and watch the signs that appeared.
Four weeks ago I had to make a trip to the dentist. At first I didn’t get the connection but it
became all too clear as I sat in that dentist chair. It started with a pain in my tooth. I knew the signs and recognized that the
third abscess of this particular tooth was beginning. I took some ibuprofen for the discomfort , garlic
for the infection, and worked through the affirmations for an abscess in You
Can Heal Your Life, but every day I
woke up with the infection spreading and more of my face swelling. Despite my best natural efforts I knew it was
time to visit the dentist.
I am not a person who is uncomfortable with, or afraid of
the dentist. But as I sat in the chair I
became very uncomfortable. While I have
had no issue writing about the addiction that is part of my past and about
being in recovery, what I do not write about is the damage that my teeth
suffered during that time. I am not sure
if it was that, the medication I was on the first time I got clean to help me
stay that way, or the bulimia I struggled with in the past. Regardless, my teeth are in bad shape, and
that is an understatement.
When people make jokes about others lacking teeth, I don’t
laugh because it makes me uncomfortable as I understand the shame of it. While I was gifted by someone in AA with an
upper front partial, I am still very careful when I talk to make sure I don’t
open my mouth too much, and to smile with my mouth closed. So, imagine my anxiety at having to open my
mouth and have my teeth examined by people I don’t know.
What is interesting is that I thought I had worked through
all of the shame of my past addiction as I have spent the past 5 years and 5
months digging into myself and bringing a light to all of my dark spaces so
that I can continue to heal. In 2013 a
sudden and painful breakup brought all the tiny bits of shame that had been
hiding out up to the surface. While I
acknowledged it to a point, I obviously didn’t dive as deeply into it as I
needed to and on some level I knew that.
So, as I sat in that dentist chair and opened my mouth, all
of those fragmented slivers of shame came rushing up and gathered together to
form the shape of tears in my eyes. The
whole time they were examining my mouth I had to fight them back. There I was, fully exposed in all my past and
it felt horrible and embarrassing and I wanted to crawl in a hole.
As I said, while I openly write about being in recovery (some here and here) I do
not announce it to everyone that I meet.
And I suppose it’s easier to write about it here where I don't really
know the people who read it and I probably won't come face to face with any of
them. Most of those that I do personally
know already know my story. Having a
stranger that I am face to face with know, just by looking at some part of me,
left me feeling very exposed.
I was worried about being judged as, unfortunately, there is
a lot of judgment around addiction. Some
people have a difficult time understanding the nature of it and why it can be
so difficult for an addict to just stop.
But what I was literally brought face to face with is that it was not
outside judgment I was afraid of, it was my own. If I had truly healed all of the shame of my
past addiction then I would not be concerned with what other people
thought. My fear of the judgment of
others was simply a mirror of my own judgment of myself.
During that entire examination neither the dentist nor his
assistant looked shocked or horrified which, to be perfectly honest, I had
expected them to. While the dentist knew
that I was in recovery, he did not judge me or make any rude comments at
all. He asked if I had done meth because
he sees a lot of my type of teeth issues with that particular drug and I said
no. My past drug of choice was on the
tip of my tongue but even though they were being so kind, I could not speak
it. The dentist even apologized later
for asking that as he was concerned it had offended me which, I assured him, it
had not. They were nothing but kind and
compassionate and gentle, there was nothing in anything they did that offended
me.
Yet, when I stood up to leave my legs would not move. The shame that had pooled up in my eyes
started rolling down my cheeks. I buried
my face in my sweatshirt and cried. The
dental assistant came over to me, put her hand on my shoulder and
apologized. “It’s okay,” I told her, “I
have been clean and sober for over five years and I thought I worked through
the shame but apparently not because I feel really embarrassed.” She kindly proceeded to tell me a story about
her own father who is also in recovery and let me know that, on some level, she
understood.
While I do give myself credit for talking about how I was
feeling, especially to a stranger, as I would not have done that in the past, I
still left the office and cried, wanting nothing more than to go home and hide.
And that is exactly what I did, I skipped dropping off my
much needed antibiotic prescription and I went home. The thing about being body deep in a moment
of shame like that is that it feels like you are completely transparent, as if
someone can merely look at you and know your story, know all of your darkest
parts. After a short period of hiding
out I went back out to get my antibiotics but I did not feel any better.
I am not content to just be in a place like that, feeling so
low, without looking for the gift, the meaning, and what needs to be acknowledged
so that I can begin my climb out. My
mind started spinning, twirling, and dancing it all around. It’s still a practice for me but I have found
that the key is to feel how I feel and to be where I am at without wallowing in
it. Practice. I knew that I had to be there and feel the
shame and I also knew that bringing the light to it, and sharing it, was the
key out. The only way out is through the
door marked ‘in.’
I am a healer and one of the avenues I use to help people
heal is through my gift of writing and, in a sense, truth telling, telling my
truth that is. There are other avenues I
have gifts in as well yet I hold back because I speak truth from my mouth and
the state of its insides is nothing I am proud of. So, I think to myself, how can anyone value
what I say when it comes from that place.
And yes, I do know better but this is where I was at.
I have left out a piece of my story, as mentioned at the
beginning, and I realized that holding that piece of truth in, as well as the
shame and judgment I have had about it, had manifested itself into an infection
that left my mouth, and my face, swollen, my face being the part of me that I
show the world (You Can Heal Your Life by Louise Hay).
The truth is that, statistically speaking, I should be dead,
in prison, or living on the streets. The
truth is that I was a heroin and pill addict.
The truth is that even among drug dealers there is a huge cloud of judgment,
a giant mister yuck sticker type cloud hovering over that particular drug, and
the average person has no lack of judgment with that as well. The truth is that the only way for me to heal
the shame of that, even as I write this I can feel the heavy energy of it in my
body as it stirs and awaits its way out, is to share it, to bring light to
it. I have been clean and sober for 5
years, 5 months and some odd days and the only way for me to help others and
give hope to those who may be where I have been, is to share it.
My journey into heroin addiction and out into sobriety
started me on a path of healing and spirituality that I am beyond grateful
for. It, along with other challenges in
my life, has blessed me with the gift of being a “wounded healer.” One of many gifts it has blessed me with
actually. If I am ashamed of part of
that journey then it makes it difficult for me to value the gifts it has
blessed me with. I can't make my “mess
my message” if I hide part of the mess.
I can’t inspire others to open to that part of themselves, to tell their
truth and own and honor their stories if I hide part of mine. The energy of that will radiate out and who
will trust me with their stories if I sit in judgment of my own?
I wouldn't change it. Granted, there are some things in the story
of my life that a small part of me would like to change but I still wouldn’t
even if I could. I wouldn't change it
because coming out the other side, healing, transforming, continuing to heal
and transform, being able to help others, opening to my gifts, learning to love
myself (still navigating through that one) and be gentle with myself, along
with the wisdom and treasure I have uncovered along the way have been worth it
all.
If I feel ashamed of it I dishonor my journey, I dishonor
myself and I dishonor my gifts. How can
I grow forward from that space? I
cannot. As I have said, for me to own my
gifts, to value them, to stand fully and beautifully in my power, light must be
brought to the gloomy dark damp spaces of shame.
Will people judge me?
I’m sure that some people will but I don’t have to be one of those
people. My journey is about me, the
evolution of my Soul and how I can use my journey to help others through
theirs. It’s not about them.
The thing is, there is such beauty and treasure and wisdom
in the perceived messes of our lives.
They are imperfectly perfect and if we bless and embrace them and stay
open to the treasures within them, the treasures will reveal themselves. I feel that it is so important to share our
stories, to bring light to our dark and shamed and seemingly broken places
because that is how healing takes place.
During one of my feeble attempts at sobriety, many years
ago, I remember reading in one of Wayne Dyer’s books that he had left
addictions behind. And I remember
thinking that if he had addictions and is now this amazing author and spiritual
teacher, then maybe just maybe there was hope for me. When we tell our stories, when we out our
shame and refuse to let it fester any longer, we give hope to those who are
going through similar situations and we let people know they are not alone.
Does that mean I am not scared? Of course I am scared, I am actually a little
terrified and part of me is screaming, “Tia, what the hell are you about to do?! But I refuse to be held hostage by the
darkness and the shame. I refuse to hold
back my gifts any longer because I judge my story or am afraid someone else
will. So here’s to being brave!
