The Doorstep

Every time I hear a story of when it all fell apart and there came a point when the pain was just too great. It seems that more often than not, you hear the line "and I showed up on _______'s doorstep"I keep thinking about this doorstep scene. Do we gravitate toward it because it seems like something from a movie? Or is that moment truly more significant than all the others surrounding it?

I did the same thing, 3 years ago.  The day I showed up on my mom's doorstep with a baby, a 2 year old, an overnight bag and 2 eyes full of tears. 

That moment was big for me. Big for my relationship with my mom. Big for my relationship with my husband (who I had left behind) and big for my recovery.

I had finally had enough of having the same fight and I was finished, absolutely finished having the same damn discussion every stupid day. I couldn't handle it anymore. And although I knew I wasn't leaving him, I didn't know what I was doing. I only knew I couldn't be there anymore.

So I packed a bag with a million diapers and changes of clothes for my kids and left.

I got in the car and realized I had nowhere to go. Nobody knew anything that was going on and I didn't really want to tell anybody. Of course I wound up at my mom's house, because getting anywhere else would have taken more conscious effort and brain power I simply lacked.

So there I stood, in my doorstep moment. Ringing my mother's doorbell for the first (and only) time ever in my life. Not sure if I wanted her to be home or not. She opened the door and I fell apart on the porch. She got my bags and helped me carry in my little ones and let me cry on her shoulder for at least 20 minutes before I offered any kind of explanation.She invited my in all of my mess into her home and held me in my pain.

I think that's what the big deal about the doorstep is. You stand there, waiting. Hoping that the person on the other side of that door will open the door and accept you in all of your mess. But until they do, you just wait. You just stand there waiting for their open arms to pull you in and take care of you.

pendulating progress

Therapist used a word today that I just really love even though I'm certain I don't understand it yet in the clinical way he means it. But we were about to talk through some really tough stuff and he wanted to make sure before we dove in that I was ready and that I had a safe place to retreat. 

So, we talked through the ways we create a safe place to return after doing something hard/scary. 

"You want to be able to picture a serene and calming place in your mind. Visualize it very clearly and easily. Make sure it's comfortable and inviting." I nodded almost immediately. There are a few happy places in my mind I could recall quickly and easily. Because the truth is this is a beautiful world filled with happy places.

 

"An important skill is to breath and calm your body. Notice your heart rate. Be able to sooth and calm it afterward." I nodded again, (thank you Sariah for your breathing tracks on the membership area of addorecovery.com, Calm your breath to calm your heart She says. Breath in with your heart beat, then notice the beats of your heart at the top of that breath. Keeping the awareness of your heart, release your breath counting the beats. Calm your breath to calm your heart.) 

 

"It's so helpful to have a few very close friends to whom you can retreat. Someone whose shoulder you can cry on, who can be with you in your experience and who you can count on." The fastest nod yet. I have many of these people, and a few in particular whose shoulders I cry on regularly. 

 

"And a physical place you can go that is safe for you. It might be a park, a holy place, a room in your home. Somewhere that you can connect, calm, sooth, and feel safe." Again! I have so many! I have my zen yoga room in my home, my chair in my bedroom, my backyard, the neighborhood park, a temple (or 5) within a 30 minute drive. 

After running through that checklist we dug in and did all (okay, just some) of the hard things. I didn't notice it until I had retreated to my safe people, done some breathing, writing, thinking and processing that I realized what a beautiful thing it is to have my life set up to support me. I have places to go, people to turn to, and many calming habits and tools I didn't have a year ago. 

A year ago he would have said these same things getting ready to go in and process the hard trauma, and he would have started "picture a place in your mind" and I would have (and probably did) burst into tears and stopped breathing because I couldn't even imagine feeling safe or comfortable and there was no place on earth I wanted to be. Today, we blew past that. And the next 3 ways to create a safe home base. 

And so we rode the pendulum. Into the trauma, noticing it, observing it, feeling it, noticing what it means, and then back out to my safe place. Into the trauma and back to breathing. Into the trauma and back at a distance to notice the effects.

So today I feel relieved and happy about the progress made. Now to master the art of swinging into the trauma and back out. And of course to make that more consistent.