Scrambled Eggs

May 23,2007 The Chicken or the Egg

How many nights laying awake in my hospital bed wondering whether or not my mental health affected my alcohol and drug use or the other way around? Whether it was genetic or because of the environment I was raised in and different traumatic events were the cause of where I ended up.

To me at the time a complex question with varying answers depending on who I listened to or what I read. Bottom line it does not erase the fact that I am the integration of all of my life experiences, that I am today the result of all of these and more.

I do not suffer from these things, the contrary, I live with it, day by day, moment by moment. I live in my recovery with the aid of and integration of an assortment of modalities, with an open mind, and a resolve that I am headed in the right direction. Part of my day is my spiritual readings, interacting with other humans, however reluctant on my part. I am studying college courses pertaining to substance abuse, mental disorders, family therapy, cognitive therapy, and so on.

I occasionally write when I make the time (not enough), I paint not nearly enough, I am now compliant with my medications (to avoid going back to the psychiatric wards), and still find that I am missing some things or not doing enough.

I see a psychiatrist, a mental health worker, and people in recovery from alcohol and drugs. Still I find it difficult to express my thoughts and feelings to others. I give them a little, yet hold back. Secrets, fears, dreams, my uncertainty of whom I am and who I am becoming.

My solace my classical music I listen to, my painting, my writings, all of which I am neglecting. That which I need and want the most set aside so I can become well; but does that help with my well being.

My unquiet mind leads me in so many directions some days that I am surprised I accomplish anything.

To be heard is yet to be seen, do I make sense, am I getting better or worse?

Let me know what you think.