Tag: mental health

Cringey Vulnerability (a tale of betrayal)

Today’s writing prompt from The Writing Room Collective:

By: JANA GREENE

If you are going to trust with any degree of your tender, fleshy heart, you will get hurt. It isn’t a possibility. It isn’t a “might happen.” We all experience betrayal. Death has lost it’s eternal sting, but betrayal still really smarts.

Many years ago, a woman who was freshly out of rehab was being released into her natural habitat of Life on Life’s Terms. We had a mutual friend at the time, who asked me to reach out to her so I can hook her up with some meeting resources, and just generally be her friend. As a result of her past choices, she relied on others to get her around town – she lost her licence – and I was all too happy to be her recovery buddy and take her to meetings with me.

And become her friend, I did.

Not only did she confide in me, but I in her; and regularly. Looking back now, I cringe at the uber-vulnerability I felt comfortable engaging in with her. I wasn’t her sponsor, but I was her friend, and I have a propensity for letting it all hang out anyway.

She had close ties with people who used to be an intimate part of my life (ESTRANGED family, gee, that should have been a clue!) but I did a crazy thing, which is to trust her.

What I should have caught on to, but missed by a mile, was that her wildly elaborate and passionate stories about recovery were pockmarked with holes, hugs, and bullshit. My gut often doesn’t get consulted on these things, when it should be the FIRST consultation I make.

On our rides to meetings, she was super animated and would often even quote from my own blog to me. I would sometimes think, ‘okay…THAT was weird,’ but most of my friends – and certainly me – are weird. Some of the personal stories she told suspended belief!

Eventually, this friend needed witnesses who ‘knew’ her pretty well, and after taking her to meetings for damn near a year I felt confident about testifying on her behalf.  “You’ve worked so hard on your recovery,” I said. “I would be honored to help!”

The Oscar for Best Actress goes to ….

My “friend.”

After I was a character witness for her, I never saw or heard from her again. She fell off the face of the Earth. It’s hard for me to imagine that degree of deception.

Turns out, this woman had been drinking all along – Vodka apparently, so I didn’t smell it. ALL ALONG.

I kind of pride myself on this mission statement: I don’t have relationships with people I don’t trust. That assumes I know untrustworthy people and can tell when they are lying. I thought I had decent discernment. Maybe that pride needs to go the way of ALL pridefulness. In the sh*tter, where it belongs.

The question I keep posing to myself is thus – HOW could I be so stupid and gullible? I honest to God just didn’t see it. I really hurt my own feelings about it. Then I realize, there is no betrayal that can’t teach us a thing or two.

There’s no way to wrap up this post up all clean and tidy-like, because life is just so messy. I don’t think I’ll hear from her again; she got what she had befriended me for.

What I experienced ain’t terribly original.

Active addicts lie. It’s kind of what they do. They deceive, minimize, maximize, lie, cheat, steal, and all to protect their best friend – the drug of choice. I myself used to strategically hide BOXES of wine all over the house (although I’m not sure why, as those in my life at the time didn’t seem to mind if I drank myself to death.)

But once I got into a program, I learned to call myself out on these behaviors and stop lying to myself.  Because calling yourself out keeps you sober, frankly. “Rigorous honesty.”

Yeah, that old chestnut.

As with most things about recovery, I’ve learned tons about myself during this time. Had I to do it again, what would I change? Even if I knew she was using me and lying about her addiction?

I would still offer to take her to meetings with me. I would still give her a safe place to vent. I probably wouldn’t have shared as much of my personal life with her, and I surely wouldn’t have vouched for her. Like I said, it sometimes seems that no good deed goes unpunished.

Although the deception happened TO me, it is not ABOUT me. It’s not about me in the least. But it stings all the same –  I’m just being honest about how this whole debacle made me feel.

Still, God calls me to be grace-full, and I’m trying. He never called me to be a sucker, though.  I have forgiven this lady (although she never asked for it) after wasting precious hours and hours on trying to figure out what clues I missed.

But forgiving someone doesn’t mean you want to break bread with them. You can forgive, walk away, and be wiser for the trouble.

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A Chronic Illness Wish List

By: JANA GREENE

I need to throw a little tantrum right now. Not a full-on nervy-b, but a proper little hissy fit.

I’m so grateful for the health days lately that have allowed me to do some normalsauce stuffs recently, but Ehlers Danlos is a chronic pain and illness condition. It doesn’t take vacations.

My whole body is made up of faulty collagen. The last two nights (and eapecially today,) the pain flares had been almost unbearable.

So here Is my stupid little list of wishes, compiled to get my frustration under control, and maybe remind you that you’re not alone if you’re hurting too.

I wish I could pop my shoulders out of the sockets like Ms. Potato Head, and replace them with sturdier, less excruciating shoulder joints. They pained me so severely last night, I writhed around trying to get comfortable for several hours instead of sleeping.

I wish it didn’t feel like oyster shuckers have been wedged under my kneecaps, feeling like someone is trying to jimmy them off every day.
I wish my hips didn’t roll around and sublux levery dadgum day. I can pop the joint in and out, and it’s not a fun party trick. It’s agony.

I wish I had one of those cool new “exoskeleton” robot suits. Have you seen them?? They hold you together from the OUTSIDE. Like a Transformer. I would t even care that I looked like a weirdo.

I wish people disnt give me the stink-eye when I need to park In handicapped. Look at her, walking Into the store! What people dont realize Is that every step can be a real challenge. You never know what a disabled person is really feeling In their bodies. Sometimes the fatigue makes every step seem Impossible.

I wish people’s understood that different days require different mobility aids. Sometimes you will see me using a cane. I need it for stability on Sundays and or because the pain is making it hard to walk other days. I don’t use it at all and I know that seems really confusing, but it’s quite simple – there are good days and bad days.

I live every day fully aware that I will most likely lose mobility from here on out, so the days I don’t need my cane I revel not needing It.

I wish people understood the fragility of an EDSers body, and the strength It takes to keep going. We are fragile, but unbreakable.

There is little to no stability in my joints because most of my lax connective tissue. Pain and injury are the result. I once broke my ankle in two places from stepping out of bed to go pee in the middle of the night; it just rolled. And lest you think I’m just a big wimp about pain, I walked on that ankle for eleven days before I had it looked at by a doctor. My threshold is very high.

I wish I had a decent immune system. I don’t.

I wish the migraines would cease and desist, but they are tied into some of my other genetic mutation conditions. They are a whole other Issue altogether.

And I wish I were way more zen about pain. It teaches me things, true. But I simply get tired of this shit. I am trying to live transcendently – find joy beyond suffering and camp out In the assurance that God’s got me (and I get by with a LOT of help from my friends.)

I currently have a post-it scrawled with medical appointments I need to make on my kitchen counter. Like I NEED to make these appointments – for specialists, physical therapy, another cortisone shot in my knee, major dental work, a trip to Duke next month for gastroperesis treatment, and labs galore. It had been on the counter for weeks and every day I pass it and get a mini-panic attack, on account of I’m simply overwhelmed.

Because this IS overwhelming. My job is to stay healthy enough to have a quality of life, but I sure could use some PTO days to just NOT feel like this.

Life is challenging, but we are never alone. That’s important to wish for – for God to use my crappy conditions to make others feel less alone. That’s the best reason I can come up with for any kind of suffering.

In our suffering, let’s lean into one another.

Bless us, everyone.

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Psst…Your Energy is Showing (and it’s Beautiful!)

I think I’ve leveled-up on my woo-woo-ness. And I’m okay with that!

By: JANA GREENE

The best compliment I have ever been paid upon meeting someone that I have only known on social media previously is: “Wow! You have beautiful energy.”

I actually cried the first time someone said this. How wonderful to notice first the essence of a person; not the packaging.
I can think of nothing better than receiving that “good word” (as I would say in my evangelical days.) It’s a big ‘ol NAMASTE – my soul recognizes yours. What could possibly be better?

And I am sure to comment on the energy of others too. Some people positively glow with it, so much so that their presence changes the entire trajectory of your day.

Energy isn’t the perfect lipstick or a flattering haircut. It doesn’t give a nod to trends, or consider an outward aesthetic.

It’s our very frequency, which the whole universe vibes with. People can actually “tune in” to yours and mine – it’s created to be shared. We are all just only energy anyway, might as well be good energy!

Wrinkles and fat come and go (mostly just come these days.) “Beauty” by conventional definition “fades.” Our mental health gets janky. Cellulite dimples our bodies. Hair grays. Boobs fall. Fupas happen. My physical health is falling apart due to chronic illness. But this little light of mine? It transcends this Earth Suit. Thank God for that.

Your frequency is like no other. We don’t need to be perfect; we just need to lean into the Oneness that we all belong to.
Blessed be, Dear Reader.

And namaste, you beautiful energy vessel, you. Thanks for sharing your frequency with the world.

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