Monday, May 13, 2013

My Drug of Choice

It's not drugs, alcohol or cigarettes.  It's not even shopping or TV; it's not sex or gambling or obsessive exercise.  No, it's much more subtle and more difficult to recognize that all those.  After spending years TOTALLY judging people who watched a lot of TV,  it dawned on me one day that spending hours on the internet is not entirely different.  If I'm cruising the net, what am I not doing?  I'm not consciously intending on how I want to spend my precious time and energy. I'm not focused on what is truly meaningful to me.  I'm certainly not focused, maybe not even aware, of how I'm feeling.

When I'm feeling really upset, I feel frantic to talk to someone about it.  Why? Because I'm not very good at comforting myself through it.  Instead of accepting how I feel with self-compassion, I scramble to find something to do, whether it's opening my computer, organizing the cupboards, or taking care of just about anything.  Even talking to someone about what's wrong is really a distraction from being alone with my feelings.  All of these things are a "fix" to get me by until the next time I hit a breaking point and need another one.

What would I rather do?  Really focus on the feeling, even enhance it, call all of it to the surface from within me to feel it as intensely as possible.  The feeling will fester until it is felt.  The only way out is through.

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