I’m about to get super REAL about numbing out with y’all because I think this is too important a topic to avoid. <– Hint. Hint.
Occasionally I go through bouts (short, if I’m being honest) of non-drinking; usually when I’m trying to clean up my act overall by eating better, riding that elevator of five pounds, or doing the yoga that makes me feel so loose and long and at ease in my body. When I just want to sleep better, monitor what I eat better, and give my sweet body a break, alcohol is one of the things I’ll cut back on or drop altogether for a bit.
There is one major side effect though, and it sucks. S-U-C-K-S. <– Seriously.
Before I divulge that side effect, I did mention in a previous post that there are positive effects to cutting back or even abstaining from alcohol. Some I’ve noticed are:
- Better sleep
- Less mindless eating
- Clear eyes
- Improved clarity and suppleness of skin
- Weight loss
- More energy
If I’m being honest (and I pledge total honesty, always, here at Moxie Fruit) the one negative side effect that I experience is enough to make me run back to my beloved bubbly and red wine.
(Psssht…everyone knows a glass of bubbly is the appetizer for the main course of a good glass of Cabernet Sauvignon!)
But I digress…
Here’s my negative side effect:
WHEN I SLEEP SOBER, I DREAM SOBER – AND MY SOBER DREAMS FREAK ME OUT.
For me, sober, clearheaded dreams are vivid, sensory, 3-D, complex, in-living-crazy-color-real, and often…so very AWFUL.
Last night’s dream was traumatizing and scary and recurring in theme for me. Relaying my dream to my fiancé this morning, I found myself in tears. Rather, I let myself cry. Sorta. For, like, 30 seconds.
I don’t allow that dragon out of its cage for very long.
I should explain…
I’m a sexual abuse survivor. I was molested at a very young age by a family “friend” and it continued for a few years. Add to that some very harrowing teenage experiences, including rape, and a general childhood lack of safety and security and you get the perfect storm of learning to cope and survive by numbing out my feelings in any way I can.
Therapists have remarked on how I can intellectualize myself right out of FEELINGS while in their office. I’m a pain-avoidance ninja. My heart starts to pulse like an injured bird, my throat tightens, palms sweat, pain rises and—BOOM—I turn on the thinking/analyzing brain and my spirit moves out of my pained heart and into my very busy head, squashing down those pesky traumas and tragedies.
Imagine a revolving door. I breeze in and suddenly sense the place is littered with soul debris and I keep on trucking, spinning around in a 180 right back out.
Buh-bye feelings!
The most honest way I can explain it is this: I’m afraid if I break down, I might fly apart and never pull it together. If I cry over my pain I might never stop. I will dehydrate and shrivel from lack of moisture. I will crack and turn to ash and blow away.
In the basest way, it’s like this…
If I feel too much, I might not survive it.
Intellectually, I know I will survive but it feels like my very existence is dependent upon this mental glue I use to seal up my many cracks.
So, it’s no surprise that I’ve “used” over the years to numb out those “dangerous” feelings. Alcohol, food, busyness, shopping, sex, flying planes, skydiving; doing anything strong or sensational to instigate a euphoria that would override my pain.
My fiancé, who is also a doctoral student in psychology, (what luck for me, right?) said what many therapists have said, “Perhaps if you LET YOURSELF FEEL, the strength and frequency of these dreams will dissipate over time.”
Wait, I’m supposed to just trust in that??!!
Now that I’m in midlife, though, and have been at this avoidance thing for almost five decades, I wonder if it’s time to let myself feel. Surely, my pain shows up in other ways. Pain is a vapor that seeps out even when we think we’ve got it locked in.
More and more, I find myself asking:
WHAT IF I QUIT FIGHTING? WHAT IF I SURRENDERED?
Hey, I’m the girl who’s hurled herself out of airplanes and learned to fly them, I’ve dared to put my heart on the page in the hopes of being published, I’ve birthed babies and, god
I’m freaking brave, right?
BUT—Am I brave enough to feel the heat of the pain I’ve suppressed for so long so that it might burn hot and feed on itself for fuel (rather than on me) until it’s nothing but a fine powder that I keep in a vial labeled “memories?”
Would I then be free? Able to sleep stoned or sober and not fear what characters and scenarios my subconscious will trot out? Will my light shine brighter because I stopped trying to hold in my shadow and finally released it?
(I’ve suddenly realized I should name my inner-feelings-dragon ‘Shadow’. There I go, veering into my head again.) Old habits die hard, Moxie friends.
No one escapes pain in life. But I’m beginning to think it’s folly to believe we’ll escape FEELING the aftershocks of our pain. Even if we numb out on busyness, exercise, alcohol, food, sex, etc., we are simply in other kinds of pain.
We’re mortgaging our full expressions of who we are, putting ultimate peace and happiness on layaway, thinking we can pay later.
The truth is; the bill always comes due.
I think I’m more ready than I’ve ever been to settle that check and move on and see what new trouble I can get into. I want to feel lighter, unencumbered by old pain. I want true freedom.
What would that look like? Maybe…
Checking in with myself throughout the day.
Allowing myself to get quiet enough to assess how I’m feeling when the urge to numb out in some way comes on hard. Be willing to ask questions of it. What triggered it? Stress? Boredom? A random comment? A smell? A story my fearful self is telling inside my head? Maybe I can set a reminder to do a heart-check a few times each day.
It might also be useful to jot down some notes such
Settling my attention on my heart and staying put long enough to FEEL.
Allowing my focus to drop from my head to my chest where so much of my hurt is stored. (I do believe our bodies store hurt all over.) Maybe I could just sit with it, with whatever comes up. I could watch it bubble and maybe even boil over like a witches cauldron until it fizzles out.
Pausing before numbing.
Giving space for feelings when the urge to DO screams louder than the urge to BE. I could stop, pause, breathe and wait. Maybe the feelz-storm will pass quickly. Maybe it’ll drizzle for a day. Either way, I could allow for the space to see what comes up before I tamp it down.
Trust.
Maybe for the first time in my 48 years, I could trust. Trust that the therapists and books and yes, my fiancé, are right—that walking through the fire of my feelings is the only way to emerge whole.
In what ways are you numbing out? Do you wonder if there’s another YOU on the other side of that fire? Has midlife been a catalyst for you to want to free yourself from your past?
I’d love to hear from you!
Gotta go for now. I have an appointment with a dragon.
(Say hello to “Shadow”)
XO,
Tracy
