coming out of a tailspin...(maybe)

An old friend, whose parents were in the same religious cult/organization as my parents, read what I wrote about yelling at Dad and wrote me a great letter.

I wrote a response to her that I decided to post here because it's the first I've been able to make any sense of anything since getting back from AZ. Also because I'm going to be late for a meeting if I don't hurry and go.

So here's what I said to my friend:

"You wrote (among many other useful observations), 'One of the benefits that comes with acceptance and healing is not having to devote all of one's energy to self-protection.'

"This helps remind me of a useful comment on one of the Pema Chodron CDs I listen to a lot. She talks about our ongoing scramble to avoid our feelings—according to Buddhism, it's that scramble that lands us in so much trouble over and over, whether it's an abusive partner or a substance problem or just fucking up our dreams to hurt ourselves, the way I do.

"Anyway, she says that it's a scramble to avoid seeing things we don't want to know, so the more we know ourselves, the less scramble there is—we don't have to protect ourselves from seeing what we already know is there, or from feeling things we know we can survive.

"That's really where I am right now. Visiting Mom & Dad knocked me into such a tailspin. I didn't anticipate it since it was such a short visit, but there were so many highly emotional moments, and I also went in with the goal of observing myself, so I saw a lot, and then am reacting to what I saw in myself, but not reacting with compassion.

"I have felt so ANGRY since returning, and my own anger is the thing I handle least well. I am angry at myself as well as at them, and there's no mercy in it at all right now.

"Tailspin is exactly what it feels like, like in the movies when a plane is falling out of the sky, and everything is whirling and you can't even get your bearings or figure out which way is up or down, or what button or lever will help you right yourself, and you start to wonder if you've been flying upside down or sideways all along and if you would even know 'up' or 'down' if you saw it."

Couple more things I'll say here and then I really have to get going...

One, unlike in the movies, a tailspin isn't going to kill me. It's unpleasant—that's an understatement—it's nauseating, it's terrifying, it's painful, and I hate it. It cuts me off from Loopy (i'm so sorry my darling!) and all my friends (including dear Bean who called yesterday, thank you! sorry I was still spinning and felt so disconnected...).

But it's just another set of feelings. There's no crash, no fiery doom at the end. It goes on for a while and then it passes. Like any other set of feelings.

I think the sooner I can remember that, and calm down and let the spinning feelings spin, instead of scrambling to escape from them, the sooner they will pass. (The trick is to remember that next time!)

I gotta go, I'll save the rest for another post.

Oh, and P.S., for the info of all you people in sunnier climes, it's minus twelve degrees, and check out Ang's photo, on her post titled: "Says Entire City of Madison, Wisconsin: "Shovel? What's A Shovel?"