I will let you in.
you can overwhelm me but
you shall not remain
I have never felt
alone. Now, in your absence
it is all I am.
I cannot influence all outcomes. I cannot control things. Things will always work out, not necessarily the way you want them to. That is okay.
I had another great meeting with Lisa again. I think I have my head around controlling behavior and anxiety. Controlling behavior is a coping mechanism. If you are in charge of every detail, you no longer have anything to be anxious about. Nothing is going to happen that you can’t directly influence…so, poof, anxiety gone. The problem is, it isn’t gone. It makes you a difficult person to be around. It makes other people have to bend themselves around you. It’s unfair and selfish. I can see my lack of patience is part of that.
Lisa and I worked on having a calming place to go to in my head. I imagine sitting on a beach at night when no one is around. It’s Mission Beach. I think about: the sound of the waves crashing, the feel of the sand on my fingertips, the feel of the breeze on my skin, the glow of Belmont Park up the beach, and the feeling of the stress draining out of my chest. She had me meditate on that a bit. Then she asked me for a word I could use to help associate with that…Belmont.
I woke up in the middle of the night last night. I had all the thoughts that run through my mind about Michelle and I. I immediately told myself I can’t control those outcomes. I then did the breathing exercise and just said Belmont (in my head) over and over until the thoughts stopped. It took a bit but it helped. These aren’t helpful thoughts. I understand where they are coming from, having them is normal and to be expected but I need to let go.
I was cooking dinner yesterday and “The Soldier and the Oak” by Elliot Park came on. It’s such a beautiful and sad song. It broke me. I ended up sobbing in the kitchen. I cried for the shame I feel (over my treatment of Michelle in Arizona). I cried for the love I’ve lost and the mother Dennis and Brad have lost with her leaving me. I cried for the embarrassment and humiliation I feel about having a drinking problem.
I didn’t fight it. I didn’t hold the grief back. I let it in and let it overwhelm me. When it passed, I was exhausted but I felt better. It’s almost like letting it pass through me and not fighting it helped release some of it.
I feel sad. I feel overwhelmed with grief at times.