May 24, 2010

It’s Me…

Posted in recovery tagged , , , , , , , , , , , at 1:08 am by eddejae

I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn’t quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn’t make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet. ~Sylvia Plath

I am not the person who is singing
I am the silent one inside
I am not the one who laughs at people’s jokes
I just pacify their egos
I am not my house, my car, my songs
They are only just stops along my way
I am like the winter
I’m a dark cold female
With a golden ring of wisdom in my cave

And it is me who is my enemy
Me who beats me up
Me who makes the monsters
Me who strips my confidence

I am carrying my voice
I am carrying my heart
I am carrying my rhythm
I am carrying my prayers
But you can’t kill my spirit
It’s soaring and it’s strong
Like a mountain
I’ll go on and on
But when my wings are folded
The brightly colored moth
Blends into the dirt into the ground

And it’s me who’s too weak
And it’s me who’s too shy
To ask for the thing I love
And it’s me who’s too weak
And it’s me who’s too shy
To ask for the thing I love
That I love

I am walking on the bridge
I am over the water
And I’m scared as hell
But I know there’s something better
Yes I know there’s something
Yes I know, I know, yes I know

That I love

But it’s me
And it’s me
But it’s me

March 28, 2010

Empowerment

Posted in recovery tagged , , , , , , , , at 8:56 pm by eddejae

My therapist once gave me a list called “My Bill of Rights.” It was during a time when I was struggling with inappropriate guilt and lack of assertiveness in relationships. She said to keep a copy in my car, in my room, at work… Wherever I would see it often. I had actually forgotten all about it until the other day when I found it in a random pile of scrap paper. I still have a difficult time with some of these things, so it is good to be reminded.

MY BILL OF RIGHTS

I HAVE THE RIGHT TO BE TREATED WITH RESPECT.

I HAVE THE RIGHT TO SAY NO AND NOT FEEL GUILTY.

I HAVE THE RIGHT TO EXPERIENCE AND EXPRESS MY FEELINGS.

I HAVE THE RIGHT TO TAKE CARE OF MYSELF.

I HAVE THE RIGHT TO CHANGE MY MIND.

I HAVE THE RIGHT TO ASK FOR WHAT I WANT.

I HAVE THE RIGHT TO ASK FOR INFORMATION.

I HAVE THE RIGHT TO MAKE MISTAKES.

I HAVE THE RIGHT TO DO LESS THAN I AM HUMANLY CAPABLE OF (seriously!)

I HAVE THE RIGHT TO FEEL GOOD ABOUT MYSELF.

I HAVE THE RIGHT TO ACT IN WAYS THAT PROMOTE MY DIGNITY AND SELF-RESPECT AS LONG AS OTHERS ARE NOT VIOLATED IN THE PROCESS.

Virginia Satir said the following, which I think goes right along with the concept of our rights as individuals:

I am Me. In all the world, there is no one else exactly like me. Everything that comes out of me is authentically mine, because I alone chose it — I own everything about me: my body, my feelings, my mouth, my voice, all my actions, whether they be to others or myself. I own my fantasies, my dreams, my hopes, my fears. I own my triumphs and successes, all my failures and mistakes. Because I own all of me, I can become intimately acquainted with me. By so doing, I can love me and be friendly with all my parts. I know there are aspects about myself that puzzle me, and other aspects that I do not know — but as long as I am friendly and loving to myself, I can courageously and hopefully look for solutions to the puzzles and ways to find out more about me. However I look and sound, whatever I say and do, and whatever I think and feel at a given moment in time is authentically me. If later some parts of how I looked, sounded, thought, and felt turn out to be unfitting, I can discard that which is unfitting, keep the rest, and invent something new for that which I discarded. I can see, hear, feel, think, say, and do. I have the tools to survive, to be close to others, to be productive, and to make sense and order out of the world of people and things outside of me. I own me, and therefore, I can engineer me. I am me, and I am Okay.

Empowering, no?