I’m sorry. I feel like I let a lot of people down. I also have a horribad hangover…
I wanted to talk about it a little bit, and compare notes on two very different things I’m dealing with in recovery, and maybe shed light on why I relapsed.
I recently overcame the fear of abandonment, which is a monumental step for me. It was due to the other person’s consistency that I was able to learn things like radical self-love, acceptance, awareness, compassion…I was already practicing self-care – these are things that basically require self-reliance to do. Over time, I’ve become quite self-governable. This is so important to me because I never really received this kind of care as a child. Treating myself with the level of lovingkindness that Radical self-care and compassion require used to feel gross. But as I’ve said somewhere…self-love and self-care aren’t treats, they’re absolutely necessary to living a meaningful life.
I’m proud of myself for being able to not only face that fear, but learn to let go and not be so afraid that people are going to leave or ditch me the instant I make a mistake. On top of that, to be able to trust that someone is going to be consistent and trustworthy is such a gift, I don’t care if I know them that well or not.
Overcoming the fear of abandonment helped me learn all of the radicals. As such, I’m capable of living my life as it goes without much worry…and then yesterday happened.
Toward the end of an otherwise normal day, My grandmother called and threatened to kick me out over things that weren’t under my control. She called me and my house disgusting and embarrassing, ugly, and filthy, and she’s not been in my house in ages. She targeted my facial hair specifically, and said she’d never be seen in public with me again. After I told her my facial hair was none of her business, she claimed she was revoking my benefactor and I needed to pack and move in the next week (I legally have 30 days).
I called my father because he normally has reassurance for me by telling me other crazy stories about my grandmother from when I was a baby, but instead he agreed that I was going to hell for being trans and that I was an abomination for it.
Instead of going down my list of what to do/who to call, I marched into the gas station and picked up a case of hard apple cider and downed it as soon as I got home, thus cancelling my sobriety streak at 110 days…apparently to the day. Because 3/5 of my living relatives just dunked me like that. (My aunt blew up my cell phone).
I’m sad about it. And I feel like shit. Even worse is that I feel like I’ve let people down — and if I did, I wanted to apologize. I’m doing really well. But the relapse is super bad because not only does it open me up to doing embarrassing things or ignoring peoples’ personal spaces, it’s medically dangerous. It shouldn’t have happened. I feel very guilty for my behavior, but I am practicing radical self-care. I won’t be mean to myself over it. I promise.
I’m absolutely still inspired. It’s not fair, though, that I keep making mistakes and pushing boundaries (I feel like I am, I have to be, my intuition is rarely wrong). I feel unpredictable sometimes, and I’d rather be consistent. I’m unpredictable because my environment is unpredictable. I really need to change where I live, or I’m risking a lot. I relapsed over this stuff, I have chest pains over it, I’m constantly hypervigilant…I’m making plans to fix that.
Actually I can 100% do something about it. I feel like true radical self-care would be filling my tank, packing, getting a place for the kitties (nooo!!!), and calling around to find a domestic violence shelter that’s willing to take me in. I’d be terrified that I’d lose contact with people, but imagine the freedom and the ability to start fresh! Basically, I need to lose literally everything to get my life back. This is a scary thought, but I think I can do it.