When I feel my life spiraling, I tend to grasp for something I can control. The quest to regain a sense of normalcy and inner stability takes over in moments of panic, and the need to focus on something solid and objective rules the day. Strangely, it is the need to have control that has led me down a road that ends in a situation undoubtedly out of my control. When turmoil steps in, as it has a tendancy to do, I revert back to behaviours that will numb my sense of confusion and anxiety. I run away. The desire to simply get away from the turmoil in the hopes that upon my return it will have dissipated is paramount in my anxiety reaction. For as long as I can remember, this has been my knee-jerk response, a fact that makes it more difficult to change. And change it must, for avoiding feeling unpleasant emotions simply roots them deeper, and allows them to resurface again and again. To achieve a sense of inner serenity, perhaps it is necessary to first experience and cope with the more trying and confusing inner dialogue that conflict and confusion evoke.
Once again I find myself wondering if it is necessary to reach one end of the spectrum before being able to truly achieve the other. If one must sometimes hit the bottom before beginning the climb to recovery. Would I have been able to come home and face my disorder if I hadn’t found it was interfereing in all aspects of my life? I cannot truly answer that question, but I suspect that reaching a point in my life where I knew that I could not continue on the path I was on was instrumental in my acceptance of the help of others. Therefore I wonder if my hypothesis is true; if sometimes you need to experience two sides of a problem to appreciate the unknown, to embrace recovery.
My quest for inner peace and serenity is not an easy one, particularly because of my hesitation to deal with more complex and deeply rooted emotions. I need to fight the flight instinct and realize that in numbing the feelings I am not making them go away; I am not experiencing serenity but an anasthetic effect, putting up a wall between my cognitions and my emotions.