Liar, Liar Pants On Fire!

More grief homework ... Hmmmmmmmmmmmm!

Grief is the toughest, for me, of all the emotional homework Mother Nature and Father Time assigns.  It is in my view harder than jealousy, disappointment and resentment homework all rolled into one!

I am on a plane flying home to Bris Vegas after two days away running workshops.  As I propped my head against the cold and hard shell of the plane, I tried to sleep.  I am tired.  To be really honest ... I am emotionally exhausted actually.  As soon as I closed my eyes feelings and words started to flood through me and I knew I would not be able to rest, the grief I have been avoiding facing over the past two weeks needed to be addressed.  For me this means it is time to write, to you my dear reader, and after I have learned more about myself through writing out this next layer of grief, then will come the next stage in grief processing, for it will be time to talk and cry it out.

For me writing is like soaking a stubborn sticker off of a beautiful piece of china.  It acts like gentle warm water and given the right amount of time, it makes it easier to then simply rub the sticker off, which is when it becomes time for spoken word and tears to help reveal the full beauty of the once covered china treasure.

I am so grateful you are here to share this journey of life with and even though we may never have met, you keep me company and create this space and line of communication that I am so deeply grateful for.   Over the years, just knowing you are there to share and connect with my dear reader has helped me reclaim snippets of my sanity on many occasions, so thank you for showing up once again.

I have been addressing increasing feelings of grief, guilt, anger and sadness over the past few months.  Often when I am alone in my hotel room away from my darling husband, the warmth of my sons company and access to my small but cherished circle of intimate friends, I am able to wander deeper into the terrain of my heart, without distraction and have a good look at where I am at on my journey into the challenging land of my own truth.

When I first wrote to my then unknown potential readers about my hearts secrets back in 2000 and my first book hit bookshelves around the country it was a time of triumph and deep terror simultaneously for me.  I had lived in a fantasy land all my life as a child, making up stories and pretending to anyone who would buy my charade.  As a child I was away with the fairies (I still spend time with them as a grown woman).   As a teen I was wreck less, suicidal and emotionally and physically on the run. As a young woman and mother my role of pretence, that I tried too hard to master, involved living the lie that I had my shit together and all was well in my private life. 

Nothing could have been further from the truth.

At age 33, as many who have read my work before, I was deep in the depths of drug and alcohol addiction, suicidal and disappointed in myself and in the way I was living my life.  The only thing I felt good about was the miracle of my beautiful sons into my world.

As my first book made its way into the world a sector of my biological family became angry at me and made it known that they did not believe my truth.  As I had been a professional bull shitter in my drinking and drugging days, and prior to that as a child and teenager, it seemed that my fantasy, my pretend persona was far more palatable to some of my biological tribe, than my truth.

I was heartened on the other had when another section of my biological family came out of the woodwork and validated me, offering support, compassion and even apologies that they had not been able to help me more knowing I was a troubled little girl and teen, but not really understanding why.

When my second book hit bookshelves in 2004 I received a legal letter from the upset sector of my biological family threatening to have my books removed from sale around the country.  I was most grateful that the legal team that supported all of my charity work was able to professionally guide me through this challenging time.

When the legal threat to remove my work arrived it was accompanied by the request to promise I would never write another word.  Writing has saved my life and is an integral part of my joy in living.  I knew this was a promise I could not honour.  I met with this disgruntled sector of my family years later and apologized for hurt they had felt as a result of my writing, and agreed to not name individual members that watched or were involved in my abuse as a child, but that was the best I could do.  My apology for any past pain caused from my writings did not grant me any pardons; they still refuse to involve me in their lives unless I edit myself and do as I am told.  They still choose to believe I am a liar, liar pants on fire, and the best I can do to find peace with their view of me, is leave them be and face my grief homework when it arises about this sad reality.

The terror I faced in wondering if my heart could endure such ganging up and rejection felt life threatening at the time.  I am heartened to say that the legal team that addressed this issue handled this delicate situation professionally, and my books remained on shelves around they nation as they still do today.  I was deeply comforted when in the following years I was awarded a Pride of Australia Medal and an Australian of the Year Award as a Local Hero for my Emotional Fitness program and written work.  I lost support in some areas, but was heartened to gain it in others beyond my wildest dreams.

To be called a liar and a fraud by those we love and accused of betrayal is some of the hardest work our heart can endure.  For many "coming out" with their truth often means facing the reality that they may be alienated from their biological tribe and its elders.   It's that age old question that presents itself, "Can you bear the accusation of betrayal from another and not betray your own soul?"

I understand in my heart that those who call me a liar and a fraud for selling books that they say are not truthful are holding true to their beliefs, as I am to mine.  I understand that they don't want the ugly behind closed doors events that happened decades ago to be brought into the light.

One of them said to me when I first started to write "Your truth is like a gun to my head". I felt so concerned when this was said to me, for my motive was not to threaten nor frighten anyone, but to let some fresh air and light into the dark rooms of family secrets for myself and my readers.  I remember with each page I wrote I checked with my therapist that I was being responsible and respectful.  When the publishing house reviewed my work, they too validated me on how gently and responsibly I had shared on the delicate and complex subject of trauma and addiction.

Grief homework for me involves going deeper into my own heart with each passing year and stage of personal growth.  Milestones like Christmases, Mothers and Fathers Day and birthdays are times of joy, but also times of reflection on years gone by for most people.  For those who recall times of loss during these times like the loss of a loved one, of self respect, of trust or of safety if they face their grief during these sensitive times it will provide an opportunity for them to heal.  We heal our grief by releasing it.

If we don't do our grief homework and feel the sadness, we remain locked in anger.  I spent many, many years preferring to remain angry rather than face the tidal wave of sadness that seemed bigger than me during these times.

Anger made me feel empowered and in control, sadness made me feel weak, vulnerable and out of control.

I have been in recovery for almost 15 years now.  So during this time, I have tried to avoid feeling the grief with each of these milestones, without success, thank God.  You see without my weapons of mass distraction "booze and drugs" I have to tolerate and process my feelings of grief and sadness. 

For those of you who have read my views on anger before, whether it is facing my own anger or working in a jail or rehab with someone who is very angry, the most important question to ask I believe is  "What has this person lost?"

Anger is present when loss or perceived loss, is present.   It could be loss of a loved one, loss of self respect, loss of trust or of safety that has occurred in a person's life.  If they don't have the skills or support to flush out the grief, the anger acts like a band aid that adheres to their heart.  And over years the grief never gets processed, and the anger becomes infected and deteriorates into a state of rage.

So to process our grief we have to firstly acknowledge that we are sad to ourselves and find a way to release that for ourselves.  It might be through writing, journaling, meditation, prayer, artistic release like painting, drawing, sculpting, music or choosing to read or view stories (movies) that address issues of loss similar to our own.  We have to get in touch with ourselves and pay attention to, not deny our sadness.  This first stage of addressing grief seems to gently soak of the adhesive cover from our hearts.   But it takes time, our own time, and we must do it at our own pace working with Father Time, not against him.

I find as a helpful second stage of processing grief to talk about it with a safe person who knows they don't need to rescue or fix me, just hold a space for me to share.  If I am supported whilst I honour my true nature that Mother Nature gifted me with and speak with loyalty and compassion about my sadness, the layer of grief can then be peeled away and give me more access to my own heart.

If sadness and loss has been a consistent theme in our lives, we need to consistently be prepared to do our grief homework for as long as it presents itself.  The time frame is different for everyone.  I lived with unprocessed grief and sadness for the first 33 years of my life.  Now 15 years into my recovery, the work is deeper and the sadness easier to access, and I am becoming more efficient at rolling up my sleeves and facing the feelings.

My birthday is in the month of September, and the death of one of my abusers happens in August and in June and July I reflect on the birthdays of those in my biological tribe who have ousted me, and choose to call me the liar, liar pants on fire.

I remind myself during this time, of that story about the argumentative children that call each other liars anytime a different view is offered to them, to help me let go of my anger every year this grief homework arises to be dealt with.  It helps me remember to put wings on the backs of those who reject me and pray that they walk with angels, that I am more able to forgive them and they may one day forgive me for what we did and did not do that hurt all of our hearts, that we all find true peace to live and let each other live with our differing views. 

It is a discipline I have yet to master, but I am geting better at each year.

For those of you who don't know that old story or fable about the wise father who blindfolds his volatile kids, I will give you a quick summary.  This wise father takes the five arguing kids into the jungle to experience for the first time what an elephant is.  The fable explains that none of the children have ever seen an elephant before.  So with each of the blindfolded children, he places one at the tail, another on the elephants back, one at its foot, one at its trunk and another to its ear.  They are told to take the elephant in by feeling it, and experiencing it and remaining silent, keeping their blindfolds on whilst they do.  When they return home, none of them have actually seen the whole of the elephant, but all have had very real and intimate time with the beast.  As the discussions take place around the dinner table that evening with each feisty child relaying their experiences arguments break out.  The children escalate in their disagreement and the father allows it, until they become angry and begin to attack each other's character calling each other a liar.

This is when the father explains that they are all telling the truth, but only from their view.  Nobody is a liar, however nobody actually experienced the whole of the elephant, nor could they from the position they were placed in.

This happens alot in families.  No two people can ever fully know the experience of the others for they are placed at a different section of the family elephant.  The only truth they have to draw on may seem unbelievable to the others, who were placed perhaps in opposite ends.  This is often when we hear about the Hero and the Scapegoat children existing in the one family. 

The grief for me rises as my birthday month approaches and I think of biological family and miss them in my heart.  I feel sad that me honouring myself has cost me their companionship.  But I would not go back to betraying myself again for their approval.   And each year, I grieve a little more, and in honouring my grief, I gradually heal my heart, for even though they are no longer emotionally available for me, I am at last there for myself, and you my reader, are also there on the other side of my words offering your silent but for me sacred companionship.  Thank you so much.

It is no coincidence this year at the end of this challenging phase of my year, that I have almost lost my voice over the past few weeks.  I have been physically sicker than I have in years.  Throughout the months of June, July and August I faced many fears accepting new projects and bigger responsibilities with my work and the future of the Emotional Fitness Foundation for 2011.

I have been coughing, croaking, spitting up and releasing old fears that have clogged and smothered my heart for decades.  I  am so pleased that I am now able to surrender to doing my grief homework more readily and even do it in advance so I am able to enjoy my birthday month this year, free from grief.

After disembarking from my flight when I started this blog on Friday night, I now return to my laptop this Monday morning to report I studied my grief assignment all weekend, and did not shirk my responsibility nor ask Mother Nature or Father Time for an extension, delaying the inevitable. 

Over the weekend I found myself very teary and emotionally fragile.  My darling husband Mr. Delicious has held me, listened to me and shared his deep wisdom with me.  For the first time in any of my marriages I am now learning how not to run and take my grief outside of my marriage.

If I ever had an uncomfortable emotion in previous marriages that registered above a 7 or 8 on my 0 to 10 scale of vulnerability, I would hide, retreat and usually connect with a female outside of my marriage for emotional comfort.  Yes I have worked with a therapist on the really toxic 9 and 10 issues, but with the yearly milestones that hit 7 and 8, I usually would retreat within myself or run to an outsider to confide in and share my grief with.  As a result the emotional support I had always dreamed of from my husband's they were not able to give to me for I didn't give them the opportunity.  I really did not know the value of a man's heart and how helpful and powerful their love can be in healing a woman's wounded heart.  I had not trusted men in the past to be gentle and respectful and therefore kept any deep truth (above a 7 on my scale) about my heart from them.  I only allowed men limited access to my heart from 0 to 6, and a 6 was once the top of their limit allowance in getting close to really knowing me.

It makes sense that the antidote for a female's heart that has been wounded by brutal disconnected males, would be that of love and support from gentle emotionally available males.  However I had never been brave enough to risk letting a man that close to me, let alone help me remove the band aids from my wounded heart. 

And I did not know that males have emotional gifts and techniques when it comes to wounded hearts that females are not able to offer.  I was ripping myself and my past husbands off big time!

My darling husband's gentle strength with his voice, his gaze, his handholding and hugs helped me flush out so much grief this weekend, that would have taken me several more weeks to do on my own or with a female outside of my marriage.

For those of you who in honouring your hearts truth have been abandoned and rejected by biological family, I am here to promise you that you can endure the grief, for if I can, so can you.  We are able to find heart family in time, that are of our choosing that can love us in a way that supports and honours our hearts, and that is a birthright only we can claim for ourselves.

Thank you for being patient with me my dear reader as I share with you my notes on my weekend grief homework.  There are many wise proverbs written about grief that remind us that those who conceal their grief will find no remedy for it, and that our tears are the silent language of grief.  It helps me to remember that my grief is not my enemy, if processed and released addressing my grief as it arises will drive me into habits of serious reflection, will sharpen my understanding and soften my heart.

I remind those who work with me on building their level of Emotional Fitness that deliberately introducing and maintaining daily habits that install joy into our lives is helpful in so many ways.  When we are facing our grief homework we need all the joy reserves our hearts can hold.   If we are processing big chunks of grief and don't have any joy left in reserve, that is when we must ensure that we do have a tribe or an elder or two that we can call on.   They will be able to remind us that the darkness of our grief will pass, and we will then be able to enjoy more of our own hearts after the grief has been faced, and embrace feeling great about who we have become!

Emotional exhaustion from time to time is part and parcel of building our emotional fitness, as is physical exhaustion after a good workout.  However it is important to ensure we rest and self care and build up our reserves of joy every day as a part of our hearts ongoing diet.  I am pleased to report that I am no longer exhausted, but replenished after a weekend of self care, attention and not to mention the odd Freddo frog!

I would like to leave you with this lovely Chinese proverb for today's Word Vitamin, and please keep your comments coming, I love hearing from you!

"One joy shatters a hundred griefs"