Empathy for Mr. Hyde

        Poor Mr.Hyde. He and Dr. Jekyll do not have my sympathy. I do not feel badly for them in a way I cannot relate. Rather, they have my empathy. I know exactly how maddening being a walking, talking, living dichotomy can be. I would venture to say all of us alcoholics do. This contrast of self has consumed my thoughts today. Okay, maybe not consumed, per se. More like, "taken up a lot of thinking space". (see what I did there? Corrected my tendency to dramatize and speak in hyperbole- 2 pts for Jill). Either way, I am beginning to see the dichotomy that is my inner self. Perhaps this inner struggle has been what I have been trying to quiet with years of vodka and wine. Perhaps those were the only two constants I had; the only two tools that could, briefly, combine my inner selves into one.

         Clear mind. With an alcohol-free brain, I am beginning to pick away at all of my misconceptions of self. I am beginning to recognize all of my puzzling contradictions. I'm not sure I know how to reconcile them yet to become a peaceful and congruent self, but I think the first step is identification, anyway. For example, how is it that I can feel so incredibly happy with my career choice, so excited to make a difference in the lives of others and yet be such a bloody mess myself?  How can I often praise myself for a job well-done and in the very next moment downplay recognition and compliments offered by others? It's maddening to teach parents how to parent, look at my own children and feel proud of how beautifully they are turning out, and yet wallow in a deep and murky pool of mommy guilt and the blasted shoulda/woulda/couldas? Or, here is a new one: feel cathartic and calm after writing a new post, proud of myself for facing and documenting my journey and then feeling like a complete failure or an outcast because I have no followers or have yet to build any blogging/online sobriety relationships yet. Sigh, absolutely maddening.

        I think this all has much to do with acceptance, patience, forgiveness, and love. Acceptance of self. The conscious effort of taking myself as I am. Accepting what is inherent and part of who I am, and resolving to change and improve those pieces of me I simply cannot tolerate any longer. Patience to understand that this is a process. It will not happen because 8 days (Yay, EIGHT!) ago I decided to make perhaps the biggest change of my life. Patience with the path to Forgiveness is key here, too. I find myself dwelling on all of the mistakes, all of the poor decisions, especially all of the missed memories that were a result of my drinking. Although I cannot stay in that place of pity, I certainly can't expect myself, nor those around me, to forgive them all so quickly. I will get there, to that place of forgiveness, eventually. I hope I never forget- I think we need those regrets to keep us hungry for more sobriety, but I know, with patience, I will forgive.

           Love. Ah, perhaps the most elusive. Because, how can one truly love oneself without first accepting and forgiving? I know what it feels like to love my children. I thank God everyday that even through my endless acts of selfish alcohol indulging, my love for my children always remained strong and unfaltering. I can say, also, that I love Hubby, and friends, and coworkers, and clients. The dichotomous part of me would also venture to say that I love myself. If love were a noun, then I have this shit covered. I feel love all the time. I am good at feeling warm regard for others and, even, sometimes, myself. Its the verb that I have yet to master. Master? Hell, I have yet to even truly, honestly, and bravely attempt. And I know that I cannot truly engage in the act of loving another until I first enter an active state of loving myself. If that's not a daunting task, I don't know what the hell is.

            Even as I typed that last bit out, one of my inner selves ( I wonder how many there really are), cried out, "Stop! Erase that! That makes you sound so incredibly selfish. How can you be so selfish?!"  I KNOW better though. I KNOW that the act of loving myself will strengthen, enrich, and nurture my love for others. I know that I can give my Oldest, especially as a woman, no greater gift than a model of how to accept and love oneself. I know that loving myself, truly and raw-ly, will allow me to stop projecting my own fears and resentments and irritations onto Hubby. Being at peace with me means I can truly be available and present and whole for Middle and Little. It will make me a better daughter, sister, friend, therapist, person.

           How do I get there? I have no fucking idea. But I know I am on the right track. I know I am being kind and gentle with me for awhile. I know I will need to tough love myself at times. I know I am setting daily goals, in addition to not drinking, and am celebrating when I reach them. I know that I am loving myself right at this moment, as I sit out on my sunny deck, in a process of catharsis, while Oldest showers, Middle plays outside with his mates, and Little naps. I know that a week ago, I would be out here with a glass of wine, wasting time on Facebook while half-invested in the goings-on around me. So, just as I am vowing to not drink, one day at a time, I am also vowing to recommit to myself and those in my world, by learning how to accept with patience, forgive, and love myself. Dichotomy be damned. I wonder if Mr.Hyde would have had more success had he learned to do the same?