Now I’ll confront my fears head on

Speak my truth, sing my song

And if you chose to walk away

After you’ve heard what I have to say

At least I believed in me.

~ All These Fears by Juliet A. Wright

copyright 2011, all rights reserved

In the next entry, I discuss an experience I had with a parent who expressed dissatisfaction with some elements of my work. How I handled the situation shows my recovery at work. I’m proud of that.

What other people think of me is none of my business. My therapist told me this and I like it. Other people’s thoughts and opinions are about them. They have nothing to do with me.

Thank you God.

I’m sitting here fretting and stewing about what some of my parents think of me. So if what other people think of me is none of my business that is great news. One parent hasn’t thought much of me this particular week.

Teachers are really public servants. My sponsor/teacher/mentor/friend told me that and I believe her. We are public servants. This, amongst many other factors, makes it a very difficult job. We do are best. Juliet does her best.

Yes, Juliet does her best for her students every day. She did her best at her first Rosemead School concert on Monday. The concert turned out well. The kids who were there performed well. At least four students didn’t show up, which was a bummer. But the students who did show up were great. Thanks be to God.

My commute was horrible that day, but I dealt with it. There was road construction everywhere and traffic was awful. I don’t mean Los Angeles awful, but still awful. We all know how Juliet feels about traffic. I have to put in my Matrix Reloaded soundtrack and stare at my Angry Birds to be able to deal with it and not curse like a sailor. Breathe. It’s okay. This wonderful construction will be going on for one month, until the end of school. Oh joy. Lucky me. Deal with it. Okay. Let it go. Breathe. Cool. God loves me. Thank God. Put in a bible tape after Marilyn Manson gets done screaming. Breathe. Okay. I’m okay now.

I got to school, with only one minute to get my kids for class. You see my Early Morning Orchestra is a before school activity. So I have to meet my students at the front door, which takes extra time and effort. Forget about going to the bathroom, setting up, breathing in and out. Just hit the ground running. I dealt with it. I got through my teaching day, trying to live in the moment and focus on my students. I tried to not let my mind and heart worry about Alice and her grief over the death of her husband.

That same evening, we had our spring concert. After the concert was over, one parent came to see me in my room. She expressed dissatisfaction with her child’s placement on stage. She wanted her child to be in the front. She told me that her child also wanted to be in the front but was in the back for both concerts. She felt that her child was discouraged by this. Her child plays the bass.

“Bass players don’t sit in the front,” I began to explain. “Their instruments are big and I wouldn’t be able to see anyone else if I put them in the front.”

“Well, that wasn’t very well received,” she said rather defensively.

“This is a standard setup for an orchestra,” I told her.

Still she wasn’t satisfied.

“Well, think about it,” I continued. “If I put Irving in the front that means someone has to go in back of him and I’ll get complaints from that parent that their child can’t be seen.”

 
The parent continued. “He is a sensitive boy so he may not play next year. He doesn’t want to sit in the back and none of his friends play bass. He doesn’t like being the only one. I can send him back to the music school. He wants to be in the front.”

So up came Irving to see his mom. I began trying to talk to Irving and his mom put up her hand to stop me.

“We can talk about this later,” the mom said. She glanced towards her son in a way that said, “Please don’t talk about this now.”

So we ended the conversation somehow and I went back into my room.

Soon I headed out to the parking lot and there was that parent again.

“I feel like I miscommunicated. I’m not being a back stage mom, I’m really not. I don’t need him in the spotlight. I can take him to the music school for that.”

This was the second time she mentioned the music school. So was this a threat?

“Maybe if you explained to him that it has nothing to do with him not being good enough,” the mom continued. “It’s just because it is a big instrument, that this is the standard format of an orchestra. He would understand that.”

Okay, I just tried to do that and you stopped me, I thought to myself.

“I wish I hadn’t said anything,” the mom concluded as she started to walk away. “This didn’t go well.”

“I’m just trying to figure it out and communicate,” I said calmly as I watched her head toward her car. “We’ll figure it out,” I added. At least I think I said that last part.

So I stewed and fussed about it all the way home.

Juliet’s Defects of Character at work:

• Other people’s beliefs and opinions are always more important than mine. They are always right and I am always wrong.
• Your moods and actions are my fault.
• Your customs and thoughts are always right. I’m always wrong.
• I think I have to be perfect and so do you. Nothing less will do. I am less than.

Juliet’s Feelings at work:

• This all my fault. I did something wrong.
• They are right. I am wrong.
• They are going to abandon me.
• They are going to reject me.
• I am less than.

On my way home, I started talking to God about it.

“God, please help me focus on you and not this woman. Please help me turn it over, because you have something to say to me. Help me, Lord. Help me get this. Help me understand. Help me to just focus on you and I’ll give it to you and you’ll figure it out. It’s all for the highest good. Show me the steps forward. I did a little step work and talked to a program friend and that is a step forward. I have value and I deserve to be happy. All that matters is that you be glorified. I will listen to the Holy Spirit and will be obedient. That is what I need to do.”

During worship, God comforted me with the following verse:

Am I now trying to win the approval of human beings, or of God?

Or am I trying to please people?

If I were still trying to please people,

I would not be a servant of Christ.

~ Galatians 1:10 (NIV)

I gave it to God and he gave me comfort. I got on my knees and surrendered to God. I put a note in my God Box about it. That always helps.

Positive Affirmation:

• Let’s just trust God for that.

Juliet’s Codependency Pattern:

• Your customs and thoughts are always right. I’m always wrong.

In recovery, I realize that the world is not always this black and white. No one is always right but God.

In recovery, I realize that communication with others is a two way street. I always do my best to speak the truth as I know it and act on the best interests of everyone.

So what other people think of me is none of my business.

As my therapist says, what other people think is about them. It is what they see through their screen. It is theirs.

Then a light bulb went on inside my head. Suddenly all the hard work I’ve been doing in recovery and therapy started its engines, and I had my own power supply running in my tired teaching head.

Maybe this woman wasn’t trying to make me feel like crap. Maybe she feels like she messed up and she shouldn’t have said anything. Maybe she is struggling with insecurity inside herself. That could be true too. My being able to think that and not just blame myself for it is a miracle from God. That’s recovery.

There was another way to think about it. I didn’t have to come from a place of fear, thinking things like, Oh my Gosh, this kid is going to quit and I’m a bad teacher. I am a less-than human being. I’ve failed and everyone knows it. None of that was true.

Positive Affirmation:

I will not believe Lucifer’s lies. I will believe the truth that I am a beloved child of God.

Then I came up with some solutions:

• I’ll try to rearrange the seating plan so Irving is in the front and still is in orchestra formation.
• I will also ask him if he wants to do a solo.

Pastor Steve Mays says we have to admit powerlessness over things we can’t control and things we can’t fix. That is when God is getting ready to do a major work in our life. So I admit powerlessness over this parent and her opinions of me.

Signs of Recovery

All of this hard work was worth it. I am, by the grace of God, seeing growth. I am seeing recovery.

For one thing, the time I spent in anguish about this occurrence was shorter. I have been obsessive about it for the past couple of days, but it hasn’t been constant and I haven’t been in complete despair about it. All or nothing catastrophic thinking is not at work as much as it used to be. I now see solutions and a way out. I also see both sides of the situation a little better. I am still stewing about it, but it is not devastating like it used to be. These are signs of growth.

In those moments of the exchanges between the mom and me, I was upset. My heart was pounding and my inner child was upset. However, I was able to look at this woman and see that she was struggling too. She was trying to get what she wanted. She wanted her kid to be in the front.

The next day, I emailed both parents. I thanked the woman for our exchange and told the dad I was copying him on the email at his request to be on the list. I told them I had rearranged the entire seating arrangement so that Irving could be in the front and still be in orchestra formation. I also suggested he do a solo and asked them to discuss it with their son and get back to me. I also stated that I totally support private instruction at the music school and that it really helps students to grow as musicians. I was happy with my email when I sent it.

I have never heard anything further from the mom on this matter.

Now I can look at the situation and realize I did my best.

All of this is for my growth. All of this is for my learning.

Again, as my therapist once told me, what other people think of me is none of my business, even if it’s good. It is about them, what they’re thinking. This makes it an outside issue, just like Tradition 10 says:

CoDA has no opinion on outside issues; hence the CoDA name ought never be drawn into public controversy.

            Tradition 10, Co-Dependents Anonymous, Second Edition, second printing, 2009. P. v.

This applies directly to my issue with this parent. This about her and her thoughts are an outside issue. They have nothing to do with me. This gets me off the hook. 

If I made a mistake, I’ll promptly admit it. But I don’t think I made a mistake. I didn’t know anything was wrong. I even tried to have Irving in orchestra at the beginning of the year, but it seemed like it was too much for him. Besides, his mother complained about having to bring him early, citing transportation issues. She seemed relieved when she didn’t have to bring him early anymore.

Positive Affirmation:

• Today I release myself from all expectations.

I have to release myself from all expectations because I had the expectation that this woman would say something, like “Thank you for what you do,” or “I think what you do is good,” but she said nothing after I made those changes.

I have to stop having expectations about people and what they will say and do. I am just setting myself up for disappointment when I have expectations about anything.

I used to have high expectations for everything and sometimes I still do. But there are moments in my life now when I’m satisfied if I can just get the lawn mower started. That would be a good day. Waking up and realizing I am still alive is enough to make it a good day.

I did the best I could. I am not less than. I am a beloved child of God. I am a very hard working teacher. I answer to a higher authority, to a loving God who is always with me, always watching, always sovereign.

I will keep an open mind about others and accept them as they are. This means keeping an open mind about myself and accepting myself as I am.

Positive Affirmation:

• God knows everything about me and loves me anyway.

This is hard work and there are challenges. There is pain and hurt, but there is also growth, recovery, and joy. God is in control of all of it. I am grateful. Program works. Thank you God.

One morning during my worship, I received a message from God that I didn’t understand. 

The message was Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma is what you need to be concerned about.  Be who you are.

What is Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma?  I didn’t know what it was or what it had to do with being myself. So later on in my day, when I had a minute, I got on the Internet and looked it up.  This disease is a form of cancer.  The cause of this disease has been linked to hair dye.  I was bleaching my hair at the time and had been for years.  This message hit me like a ton of bricks.  I prayed and prayed about it and eventually went back to my natural hair color. 

But there was more to the message.  Be who you are.   What did that mean?  I prayed some more.  I listened some more. 

The next message that came through was Cut your hair.  Be who you are.  

I was very troubled by this as I had long hair that I really liked.  I prayed some more and listened.  Over the next couple of months, I repeatedly received the same message.  I listened, obeyed, and cut my hair.

I know now that the purpose of this message and of cutting my hair was to get me in touch with my inner teen.  My inner teen is me at 14.  She is overweight, has short hair, and a very round face.  By cutting my hair, in a way I became her again (minus the weight). 

The message became more detailed, adding things like do that book. I had been talking to a friend of mine about writing a book about my codependency and this message from God just confirmed that.  Writing the book is also helping me to heal my inner teen.

My inner teen has even lower self-esteem than my inner child. She often hides her face from me too full of shame to turn around.  She sees herself as a fat ugly loser. She is me at 14, that same year that Dad yelled at me for being fat in a restaurant full of people. The same year Cain tore my clothes off behind the Catholic Church. The same year Betty stopped talking to me. The same year that we had that awful “If you don’t stop, I’m leaving you” family meeting that produced absolutely zero positive results regarding my mother and her drinking.

My inner teen had all of these bad sexual experiences, and it has had a lasting effect on her.  Yet she has sexual urges herself and she thinks herself dirty for it.  She hates talking about this. However, Elizabeth Gilbert who toured the world and wrote a great book Eat, Pray, Love talks about it so why not?  Sexuality.  I don’t know if my inner teen will ever be accepting of and comfortable with this subject.   She deals with the sensual part of herself as best she can. 

This pimply kid still exists inside me. Every day, I go inside and give her a big hug.  I tell her everything is going to be okay. I want to go back in time and tell her love starts here.  So what if 20 years beyond your teens, your husband has a change of heart and skips town?  So what if your best friend isn’t talking to you?  You’re still okay.  You are a beloved child of God, just the way you are. 

Inner child work has been a very important part of my recovery.  I try to connect with my inner children as often as possible.  I will continue this important work.

Let the Child speak

Let her voice be heard

She’s no longer weak.

But she hasn’t said a word.

(Let the Child Speak, from Fearless Moral Inventory, by Juliet A. Wright, copyright 2010, all rights reserved.)

Who is the inner child? Cathryn L. Taylor, author of The Inner Child Workbook, describes the inner child or inner children as “the voices inside you that carry the feelings you were unable to express as a child.”[1]

My inner child is the real me, the one that was squashed into the corner when I was little. The one that was scared and screamed at by my dad to be perfect all the time. She is who I really am.  And she is wise.  She is a part of God.  But she gets ignored a lot.  After a while, this really ticks her off.  My inner child gets to the point where she will not be ignored anymore. 

I have done quite a bit of inner child work, and it has been some of the most difficult, yet rewarding.  I’m learning who I am and how I feel by doing this work.  It’s my true self revealed.  I wrote my song Let the Child Speak about this very subject.

I first started doing inner child work with my therapist.  It was then that I discovered this sometimes scared, angry, frustrated, sad, lonely little girl.  This little girl thinks she has to be perfect to be okay. This little girl thinks she has to earn her right to be.  If she makes mistakes, she is less than.  She has no self-esteem.  She thinks everything she does is wrong.

It is through this inner child work that I uncovered my memories about Grandpa Roman that I spoke of earlier in this book.

Yes, she feels all the feelings on Juliet’s Feelings List on a regular basis. 

[1] Cathryn L. Taylor, The Inner Child Notebook: What to do with your past when it won’t go away. (New York: Jeremy P. Tarcher/Putnam, 1991), p. 1.

The moment I woke up

Was the day the tests came back

With ev’ry word that left his lips

Sweat poured down my back.

Heart pounding, mind racing,

Soul screaming, paralyzing,

Knee buckling,

blood draining disbelief.

(God, this isn’t real!)

With ev’ry breath

I’m filled with fear

Please dear Lord,

don’t leave me alone here

Bring your angels,

I need you near,

To say, “Fear not”

~ Something to Believe In, by Juliet A. Wright

copyright 2010, all rights reserved

In this entry, written in April 2014, I explore the recent heroin epidemic in Vermont. I relate the search for a solution to my desperate search for a miracle cure for Zeb’s cancer. One of the reasons I was so desperate at this point in time is because the vaccine he had received, which we were all so hopeful would cure him, had failed. He was out of treatment options, his tumor was growing again, and he was going downhill rapidly. He died a month after I wrote this piece.

There is a heroin epidemic that’s plaguing my beautiful home state of Vermont. It has been all over the news. “Junk” is everywhere and just about everyone is doing it, the news reporters say. In fact, rehab centers are turning people away and telling them to keep using until a bed opens up!

Imagine a young girl running down the street. She is asking everyone she sees, “You got a fix? I need a fix.” She repeats this over and over. She owes her dealer so he’s cut her off. She is desperate. She is a junkie. The big H has become her God. She can’t live without it. Getting and using stuff is now her full-time job.

Now imagine this same girl running down the road. Only now she is not looking for a fix. She is looking for a cure for cancer. “You got a cure, you got a cure?” She repeats this over and over to everyone she sees. She is desperate to help her family.

You got a cure?

No cure.

Now she is running down the road looking for a prayer. “Can you pray, will you pray?”

She is seeking to get the God in them to save her brother-in-law and her poor sister who cares for him. If she just gets enough people to pray, she can surely fix it. She can save him and her sister too. She can control the world. She can fix it!

Look at this girl. Look at what her codependency is doing to her. It is killing her the way H is killing young people in this beautiful rural state. “Can you save my brother? I think if you can pray one more time, you can save him. Can you pray for a new brain?”

I can’t say I was that person exactly, but I sure wasn’t far off. That pretty much describes my behavior for the past 14 months. Begging every person I knew to pray for him, trying to save him. He is my brother, I love him. Deep down, to save my family of origin, my sister, to save her from pain and anguish, especially after what she had just been through with Mom. Trying to save her. Trying to fix her. Trying to make it okay. Trying to play God.

Now this is where I am. I am still trying to fix it, save it, fix her, save her, fix him, save him. I am feeling their feelings. I feel their despair. And when I’m not feeling it, I’m telling myself I should be. Most of the time I don’t need to do that. Feeling their despair comes naturally. It’s as natural as flicking on a light switch. I have had years of training in taking on the feelings of others.

Here are my codependency patterns, which were running wild:

• If you hurt. I hurt; I think I have to fix you.
• Your moods and actions are my fault.
• I don’t know what I need. I focus on what you need.
• I am obsessed with making you happy, with saving you.
• My fear of abandonment and fear of rejection determine how I behave.^[1]

I feel what they feel. I need to detach. It doesn’t have to be about drugs, alcohol or gambling, men or sex. It can just be that you love someone and you want them to be well. You want to fix something that you can’t fix, change something that you can’t change, and that lack of power sends you into despair and affects everything in your life. There’s this big, thick grey cloud hanging over your head. You wake up and think, “There’s that feeling again.”

Pretty soon, it’s not just obsession with my brother who has cancer and I’m taking on his despair, and my sister’s feelings. Now a little boy at one of my schools died and I have to feel what those parents are feeling too. Then I hear about the mudslide in Washington state and what about the people in that area? I have to feel what they’re feeling too. And what about the people in Malaysia who are waiting for news of their loved ones on that missing plane? Where is that flipping plane anyway? And the people at the hospital in North Adams, Massachusetts! The hospital is closed and they’ve all lost their jobs. Now I have to feel their feelings and fix them too? Better put them on the list. And another friend has a lung that is collapsing. This is going to kill me!!

This is enough to drive me to insanity. This is when my life has become unmanageable. This is when I need to come to CoDA. I need to detach with love and start to take care of myself. The only thing I have control over is how I react to what’s happening.

All of this drove me to exhaustion, depression, selfishness, and despair, and it ruined one of my Sunday worships at Quaker Meeting to the point that I was worried I wouldn’t be able to go to my Quaker Meeting anymore. The thought of that sent me even further into my despair spiral, the idea of not being able to see my spiritual family. (I was falling asleep in Quaker Meeting, which is a no-no. A member of the Meeting spoke to me about it and I was mortified. My falling asleep was a result of my exhaustion, mostly due to my insanity over the situation with my family of origin.)

Soon I am thinking, How can I fix this, how can I change it, who can I call? I’m desperate… help me help me help me. No answer, no answer. No one is home.

So what’s the answer? For Juliet, it means I need to work my program. I need to admit my powerlessness over others, cancer, disasters, disease, and death. I need to give it to God. I need to humble myself before him, admit that I am out of control, and that I need help. I need to get to a meeting, write out some step work and read it to my sponsor. I need to let go of what’s not mine and give it back to its owner. There is a God and it is not me. I need to take the focus off of others and put it back on myself. I need to admit my powerlessness over my enmeshment.

Slogan:

I can’t, God can. I think I’ll let him.

Admitting powerlessness is half the battle. Just admitting to God that I am out of control and powerless over these obsessions, feelings, control and compliance patterns helps it ease up. Suddenly the pressure is off. Someone pressed the pause button and I can breathe in and out. I can figure out my hand position and get my bow straight before they press the play button again. I can let go. I write out my steps. I read them to my sponsor. Suddenly the current is back flowing in the right direction and I’m going with it. Breathe. Just breathe. Give every breath to God. It’s okay. I’m not driving the boat. None of us are. God is driving the boat. God bless the 12 Steps. Breathe, just breathe. Live every day in gratitude. And let go. Just let go.

It was good for me to be afflicted

So that I might learn your decrees.

~ Psalm 119:71 (NIV)

If there’s one thing that Zeb’s illness and death has taught me, it is that I must trust God. There’s no other option.

Thank you God for this learning.

^[1] Ibid.

I started keeping a Gratitude List early on in my recovery.  I had started working the 12 Steps with a sponsor, and she had me start a Gratitude List as a part of my recovery.  One of my assignments was to add five things to my Gratitude List every day.  Sometimes I added ten. 

I now have a Gratitude List that has more than 645 items on it.  That’s pretty darned cool for someone who always saw the dark, pessimistic side of life.  

I always feel better after reading and adding to my Gratitude List.  It helps me get out of my obsession and depression.  I have even gotten to the point where I can be thankful for some of the most challenging events in my life. 

I have everything on my list from God to Green Mountain Coffee Roasters.  I have things on it like “the sound of my brook.”  I have items on my list that are repeated.  Who cares?  It’s my list.  I can have it any way I want.  God is on there a bunch of times.  Silly things are on there too, such as “being in front of the bus, not behind,” and “big fat kitting needles.” It’s great.

I will continue to read my list at least a couple of times a week and add things to it as often as I can.

I have mentioned slogans already here and there in the book. On my recovery tool list, slogans have been right up near the top with positive affirmations.  They have helped me to get back on track when I’m upset or obsessing about a problem, or feeling lost because of something that’s going on in my life. 

Slogans help me keep things in perspective.  They help me get back into focus with reality.  And this is not my reality but God’s reality and what’s really true in His plan. 

They help me realize that it’s okay for me to take care of myself.  It’s okay for me to say no. I need to sleep when I’m tired. I need to eat when I’m hungry. It’s okay for me to take a break.

The slogans also remind me that I don’t have to do it alone.  God is there to help and he should come first.

I like to type up the slogans and put them all over the house.  I think they help me to keep focused on God, His plan and what is real, instead of what’s going on in my own compulsive, obsessive head.

On this webpage, http://webpages.charter.net/jlbond/slogans.htm, you’ll find 400 Alcoholics Anonymous slogans. (Again, AA is another 12 Step Program, and its approach is actually the foundation for Codependent Anonymous.)

I refer to this webpage often.

I wrote this song as a story about a person who is searching for relief of their hurt and pain. I have used food, alcohol and the opinions of others to stop the pain I feel inside. In the final resolution I find relief from my pain in my relationship with God and in his Word. My food addiction started when I was a child. That is what I used to make the pain go away, specifically pizza and coffee ice cream. I remember eating until I was uncomfortably full, and would feel bad about myself. But for a while, it numbed me out. The pain went away. When I got older, I would occasionally use alcohol to numb myself out and make the pain go away. 

The inspiration for my verse on alcohol came from an experience I had at my local YMCA. I was getting ready to pull into the driveway for my early morning swim, and a young woman flagged me down, asking for help. It was about 6:00 am. She said she needed help, that someone had left her there and she was stranded. I led her up to the YMCA. She was clearly very strung out on something, probably not alcohol, probably opioids. 

When she came in the door she started rummaging around in the lost and found for a sweatshirt. I said “I think those belong to people.” Then she said she was really thirsty and needed something to drink. I asked her who left her there and she pointed to the tattoo on her chest. That is where the line “There’s no more tattoo of you on my soul, comes from.” At that point I kind of selfishly left her with the very kind person at the front desk.  

Eventually a police car and an ambulance came and she got some help. 

In my recovery I have sought and continue to seek help from my therapist and sponsor. I get relief there too, from pain, but it is a good relief.  Recovery is hard work, but I am learning new behaviors that work better for me and I am slowly learning to love myself. I am learning that I am a good person who deserves love and who doesn’t have to believe all of the lies that my inner critic tells me. 

In the bridge I sing about the work I do in recovery to deal with my past so that I can change my behaviors and move on. I do have feelings but they don’t have to drive the bus. I must feel them, but I can do that, do the journaling, stepwork and other recovery work I need to do to face it and move on. As they say, Jesus has dropped the charges. I am free from my past. 

The last verse brings me home to God, his Word and my salvation. I cannot express how much comfort and strength that I find in God’s word. I always have his love. And the more I read that book, the stronger my faith is. That, in combination with my daily silent worship and journaling, are slowly turning me into the person God wants me to be. That is where the real relief from the pain comes from. It is better than any ice cream, alcohol, or worldly approval could provide.

Here are the lyrics. 

Searching For Numbness 

I wasn’t even hungry but somehow I ate it all, 

searching for ice cream. 

Searching for the sweetness, 

Searching for numbness,

Begging for the exit.

Avoiding the truth.

Trying not to feel

Frozen, dazed lump. 

I need something to dull my senses

Like I’m dazed, in shock

My sun is down yet it is day. 

Joy has left the world for good.

I’ve been found out.

Declared guilty. 

Everyone knows it.

abandoned forever.

I need something 

To take this pain away. 

I wasn’t even thirsty, but somehow I drank it all 

Searching for whiskey

Searching for the sweetness

Searching for numbness,

Begging for the exit.

Avoiding the truth.

Trying not to feel

Sauced drunken soak.  

Drunk with anger and shame.

Dear God I’m a shipwreck

Without a rescue 

Strung out and coming down hard

Needy and clinging. 

Stopping traffic

And the stranger on the street. 

Somebody help

God I’m so thirsty

Give me some more 

Take me away

In a hearse headed for hell

I was completely desperate and somehow I called them all

Searching for my shrink

Searching for my sponsor

Searching for forgiveness. 

Begging for the exit.

Believing the lies. 

Trying to get healed. 

Sad sorry soul. 

So I become the witness and observe my feelings, 

I must feel them, but they’re  not me.

I unearth my past. 

Something I’ve buried. 

Deal with my Waterloo I am free

I’m giving my soul 

Room to breathe. 

The charges are dropped 

Now I believe. 

I was finally willing, and somehow I read it all

Searching for answers

Searching for forgiveness

Searching for mercy

Begging for redemption

Reading the truth 

Ready to believe

Grateful, saved, soul

Despair is knocking, 

He can’t come in. 

Stay away from my door

There’s no more tattoo 

Of you on my soul

You see his Word has drawn me in. 

He promised to teach

The way I should go

he vowed to guard

My sorry soul 

Just believe, trust and obey. 

~ Searching for Numbness, by Juliet A. Wright, 

copyright 2019, all rights reserved 

My defect that I thought I shredded 

And buried in four places

Like Braveheart

Has sewn itself back together and is 

Standing over me, threatening my life

When I’m sleeping 

In my dreams I’m saying

I thought I killed you.

What else can I do but raise up 

My life up as an offering 

to God.

Write my story forward

Give it to God again.

Follow Him. 

And his sunrise

In my dreams he is saying

I’ll take care of you

If you could walk a mile in your enemies shoes, he

Wouldn’t be your enemy anymore.

Resentments

Drawn and Quartered.

And then it’s done.

Until the next time. 

My defect that I thought I shredded

And buried in four places

Like Braveheart

Has sewn itself back together and is running away 

With my life

When I’m obsessing.

In my despair I’m saying

Not again. 

If you could walk a mile in your enemies shoes

She wouldn’t. be your enemy anymore.

Even if that enemy is yourself. 

Obsession

Drawn and Quartered

And then it’s done

Until the next time. 

I only fail if I quit trying.

Expect miracles.  

Sometimes it’s 

Possible to change. 

(With God’s help)

My defect that I thought I shredded

And buried in four places

Like Braveheart

Has sewn itself back together and is

Throwing things across my car

When I’m angry.

In my rage I’m saying 

You got me again. 

If you could walk a mile in your healer’s shoes

She wouldn’t be your healer anymore.

Rage

Drawn and Quartered.

And then it’s done.

Until the next time. 

I only fail if I quit trying 

Liquid gold peace

Like a serenity concerto

Copyright 2019 Juliet A Wright. 

All rights reserved. 

This is yet another song that I wrote while spending time at my beloved Tanglewood. It is such a spiritual and creative place for me. The high quality music performed by talented artists is very inspiring. Plus the program notes gives you all of this really interesting information about what was going on with the composers when they wrote the material, how they wrote it, etc. 

Anyway, this song addresses some of my defects of character. I treat them as if they are living beings that I battle and put rest, only to find them at me once again. They seem to resurrect themselves when I least expect it and overtake me before I know what is happening. “I thought I was done with that…” I would think to myself. I had seen the movie Braveheart years ago and seem to remember that they cut him up in four pieces and buried him. I liked the image of doing that to my defects of character, such as rage, obsessiveness and resentments.  My anger seems to appear quite often in the car. Anyone who has ever lived in Los Angeles can probably understand that. I had  hopes of ridding myself of them forever in this manner.

Of course this didn’t happen. It’s too bad we can’t just change our behavior as easily as turning off a light switch, but it doesn’t happen that way, at least it doesn’t happen that way for me. I take two steps forward, one step back, try again, one step forward, two steps back, and on. But I only fail if I quit trying. As long as I am still in the ring, giving it my best shot, then that is the best I can do and my best is good enough. I keep trying. And the moments of serenity that I experience are well worth the hard work. 

This song has been recorded on my latest CD, Acoustic Songs of Recovery and Worship. 

Please check out my YouTube channel. Also make sure you check out this website, www.hiddenangel.net, where you can purchase my books, audio books and CD’s of my music.

On one typical Friday evening, I sat in my Los Angeles home office feeling exhausted and depressed. I started thinking about the silly looking marble fireplace in my living room.  Not only was it ugly, heavy, and leaning, but it was placed right next to some sad-looking wood paneling.  What person thought that looked good?  I got up, approached the fireplace, gave the marble a cold icy stare, and decided that it was just too ugly for me.  It had to be destroyed instantly.  So I went to Home Depot and bought the necessary tools of demolition.  I took the workman’s plastic, covered the floor with it, and taped the plastic off.  Then I put on my protective gloves and goggles, grabbed my beautiful new sledgehammer, took a deep breath, and started smashing the crap out of the marble.  It came off the wall just like it should have.  I screamed while I did it.  What wonderful stress release that was!  Fantastic!  I highly recommend something like this for getting out one’s aggression in a safe way. Plus, I got rid of something in my home that had been bugging me.

I immediately emailed my best pal Doris and told her:  “Man, you have to try this!!!”

Underneath that wretched marble was a beautiful wooden mantle.  Who in their right mind would ever cover that up?

Sledgehammer therapy worked really well for me.  If I need to do it again, I will find something that needs to be destroyed, grab my sledgehammer, and just start bashing the dickens out of it. What a release! Of course, I’ll make sure I’m hitting an object, like my barn that is falling down for example, not a person or an animal.  And I’ll always wear gloves and the safety goggles!

Wright, Juliet. Everything Is My Fault: One Woman’s Journey Through Co-Dependency. Pownal, VT:Hidden Angel Publishing, 2012.