Why put yourself through all that?
A question I periodically get asked, always by people who have not known the reward of exploring internal landscapes or the joy of becoming free
My life has been a journey of recovery, and like anything worthwhile it could not have been achieved without some footwork.
Aged 18-21 intense psychotherapy with a psychiatrist.
Aged 21-24 gestalt and release work to purge negative emotion and energy from my body.
Aged 25-34 intermittent therapies with a) a psychologist b) counsellor c) psychiatrist.
Aged 35-55 12-step work, attending meetings pretty much every week.
Aged 56 quitting alcohol.
Aged 59 EMDR therapy.
Aged 61 the use of a psychedelic in a therapeutic setting.
Listing it like that makes it all seem a bit clinical and boring. What it doesn’t get across is that every step of the way has been filled with exploration, discovery and wonder. Sure, there was pain, especially at the beginning—yet also joy, especially in later years.
I sometimes get asked why I keep revisiting my old hurts. I mean, wasn’t it enough to live through them the first time?? Why would I willingly put myself through that again?
To that I say: recovery is not a linear process with a little graduation at the end. It’s a spiral. Yes, I may be revisiting the old wounds, but each time it is different, because each time I am stronger and can accept more, absorb more, distance myself more from them. As I do, I become stronger, more aligned with my own power.
For instance, people asked me when I decided to write a book about my early years why I wanted to put myself through it all again. Well, because those old hurts, resentments, shame, whatever, were still there, nibbling at my psyche, impacting my self-esteem, draining my strength and future potential. I did not want to live that way, so I wrote the book, and man, what freedom when it was out in the world! I was able to set down such a heavy burden through that process, which allowed me to carry on, lighter and more self-assured … not to mention more assured of who my real friends and supporters are, and were.
Incidentally, as referenced in the list above, I needed therapy while I was writing it, and was not shy about going out and getting that support. I was coming up against a lot of broken parts in my psyche, and I see no difference between having a broken leg and having a broken psychological part. Both need care, both need treatment, and there should not be a stigma attached to one, and not the other.
The way I see it, there really are only two options. There is the option of moving forward, and there is the option of stasis. Or—no. There is no stasis, not really. If you are in stasis, you are going backward. You are resisting the natural movement of life towards wholeness. And when you resist, you have to find ways to numb yourself. Numbing is always progressive. You can’t just continually numb a little bit, you have to numb more and more until your life spins out of control.
In 12-step programmes, the first step is as follows:
We admitted that we were powerless over [insert whatever it is], that our lives had become unmanageable.
There is immense power in that step. Just to admit that you have lost the ability to manage your life is huge. Most of us don’t like to admit it … and yet most of us reach that point, sooner or later, because our default response is to numb “the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to” as Shakespeare so aptly put it1.
Surrendering to that understanding, giving up, is not weakness—it is strength. From that levelled ground we can begin to build on something firm, rather than the sand of numbness and denial. Committing to becoming whole means initiating a progressive movement into clarity, wisdom, empathy, and agency over your life.
A final thought: at this time in history, with the forces of darkness gathering around us like storm clouds, it is more imperative than ever for us to go inside and find our own truth, our own strength, and our own healthy resistance. It is more important than ever to be able to discern truth from lies, and the only way we can do that is from a point of clarity within ourselves.
That is one reason why “putting ourselves through all that” is so important.
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… in Hamlet, Act III scene 1.
Thank you so much, Alda, for continuing these posts! They have become a positive "voice" in my head, a little encouragement, a cheering section, if you will, helping to validate my feelings and emotions as I take the steps in my own journey, especially when I have doubts.
And I have a lot of them! They rush at me sometimes and overtake me, sometimes lasting for days, other times only a few moments. In therapy, I'm experiencing a lot of frustration with myself; I feel as though I cannot get past certain situations in my life, not allowing myself the time it takes to heal. Everything is so interconnected – ugh! I’ll do great for a while, and something will happen, and then I feel as though I am falling backwards, arms flailing like a pinwheel. Sometimes I turn that frustration inwards, thinking there’s something wrong with me because I can’t “get over it.” Which is the broken record pattern of my youth – “I don’t understand what’s wrong with you! Why can’t you just get over it?!”
I think you mentioned coping skills in one of your older posts and since then I’ve thought a great deal about how my coping skills developed as a child – although, as I write this, I think you might have called them survival skills…which is a more accurate description. I like to say I wasn’t raised, I grew, and the coping/survival skills I developed became a barrier to developing healthy relationships, or even recognizing them, in my younger adult years.
Yet therapy is helping me to develop tools, unique to me, to cope with those challenges of how to handle feelings and thoughts that overwhelm me when I find myself going over those certain situations again. Healing is not necessarily putting those situations behind me, but rather developing new, healthier ways of addressing them, so I no longer have to rely on those coping/survival skills of my childhood years. I think that may be the building blocks to moving forward, as your post describes to me.
I’m not sure if all that made sense, but I want to thank you for all you are doing here in the recovery salon. I truly feel a sense of peace & comfort when I read your posts ❤️
I've watched my brother refuse to go through the pain of healing. He's stuck in pointless pain, doing the same things that don't work over and over again.
Healing is hard. It never ends. But the pain is worth it, because I've become someone I can live with. Yes, it is cyclical.
I just got back from blacksmithing, so please pardon the analogy. In blacksmithing, you put the raw material in an oven and heat it until it becomes malleable. You hammer on it just so, making mistakes that you hammer out. When the iron won't move, back it goes into the fire.
Eventually, you get a useful object. Heat, hammer, over and over, until you have a tool.
I was useless when I was stuck in the chronic pain. Eventually, it got so hot, I became malleable, willing to change. I made mistakes. Into the heat again, the pain, make amends, fix what I can.
As I do this more and more, I get better. It takes fewer hammer strokes. I see progress. And, now, I'm useful.