I just attended my first meeting for Adult Children of Alcoholics and Dysfunctional Families.
It was a Zoom meeting.
I wanted it to be in person, but I may have liked this better.
I didn't have to make eye contact.
I got to pull my dog into my lap when I felt triggered.
And yes, I got triggered.
Shit I had forgotten about.
Realizations that I STILL OWN THE DESK THAT I USED TO HIDE UNDER WHEN I WAS A CHILD AND MY PARENTS WERE THROWING DISHES AT EACH OTHER WHILE THEY RAGED OVER GOD KNOWS WHAT.
Now I am wondering, why do I keep this desk?
Is it a lifeline?
A safe space?
I mean, yeah, it's a cool desk. It's old. Has a neat mechanism that locks some of the drawers without a key.
I've had it forever.
I can still fit under it, too. You know, if there's an earthquake. Or if I accidentally find myself in yet another abusive relationship.
Anyhow.
These are my thoughts.
The meeting was good. I don't feel alone.
There's an event tonight. Maybe I'll go. Meet some people in person. I'll bring my dog. If they say he can't come in, I'll leave.
Or maybe it's too much too soon. I just found a new therapist. Gonna start pain management for fibromyalgia pretty soon here.
Have to remember that healing is a process. Not a solution. I tend to think I find the answer and dive headlong into it. Gotta get it done! Must fix this! Must make it better! Then I get stressed. Then I shut down.
They call them steps for a reason. You can't take all of them at once.
Well, you can. If your legs are long enough.
But then you'd just be so tall nobody could reach you.
Ever.
I want to be reachable. At least sometimes.
I want to be better.
One step at a time.
Maybe two, if I'm really excited about it.
Photos and words all mine.
Thanks for reading.