What Goes Up...

What goes up, must come down. This is a basic scientific principle. The laws of nature dictate balance.

I have recently come to realize that I am a junkie. I love adrenaline, the high. I love the thrill ride of being whole-heartedly invested in something... like being so crazy in love you can't see straight, or throwing myself into school or work, or even transition. I love those moments while having sex when the whole world disappears and you are on an island with intense physical pleasure, wholly unaware of anything around you (except maybe the person that is there with you). I asked myself WHY I love these things... because in reality I can recognize that putting TOO much of yourself into something only sets up disappointment and debt. And, eventually, you must come down.

I have basically lived my life like a gambling addict. I have used my own energy and soul as chips, wagering them against the odds. So, I keep hoping for the big haul: approval/affirmation/love or better yet, escape. That is the jackpot. So, I push a stack of chips out on the table, often going all in, sometimes throwing in my watch, my rings, anything I have of value. And I let it ride. Because what if, what if THIS TIME, I win? And I would win little payouts often enough to keep me coming back. And I keep coming back and coming back until I am totally broke, broken and in debt.

So, understanding that the reality is that I am so much more likely to be disappointed and disillusioned, why do I keep going back? What am I wanting? Why is the high SO important that I will risk so much for it? I have come to realize that for me, it was the escape. That moment when the world stands still and something, anything, is loud enough to drown out my own pain and fear. And then I realized that all those years of trying to be someone I wasn't, telling myself to sit down, shut up, be still... the pain of being invisible was largely what I was trying to escape.

So, now that pain is easing but I still have the habit of thrill seeking. According to my therapist, I need to mourn the loss of that top edge of the high. I will miss that feeling that comes with detaching... the climb... the apex. But, I will not miss the terror of plummeting toward rock bottom, aware of impending impact. And I certainly will not miss the pain of splatting at the bottom. This pain at the end was all part of a sad cycle. Somewhere along the way I picked up this idea that pain is the price that must be paid. "No pain, no gain." "Pain is weakness leaving the body." So on and so forth.

But I now realize that I can CHOOSE to be still, and stable, and safe and avoid bringing pain on myself. I have realized that I can and do deserve to be happy and don't have to risk it all in the process. Self care.

I used to think that going gung ho was indicative of courage. Now, I am learning it takes far more courage to live in the moment, to sit still, to FEEL. It takes more courage to look inside yourself and poke around and to love yourself no matter what you find in there.

That is what I am working on now. I'll still take risks and embrace adventure... but maybe I'll just take 20 bucks to the casino and play for fun. And walk out with my emotional, spiritual and energetic savings account in tact.

It's my own personal bail out plan. :)