No Pain No Gain–Let it Rain

I was talking with a friend of mine last night about blocking emotional pain. We’re both recovering alcoholics and have been through a lot, together and separately, during our 30 year friendship.

Both in early sobriety, we’re discovering what it’s like to feel the raw emotions without alcohol’s anesthetic relief. It’s a bitch to say the least.

So we were talking about how natural it becomes in many people to do anything to inhibit fear, sorrow, anger and anxiety. And we talked about when most people begin applying their salve of choice. For us it began in high school and escalated just after graduation. That seems to be the time frame in many cases.

We agreed that so many things happen in adolescence, middle school age, to rock our previously safe existences and the pain can seem unbearable. Of course, not everyone has a trouble free childhood but I think the average person really takes the first of the serious emotional hits in the early teen years.

Some kids are extremely emotionally healthy. They roll with the punches early and continue to do so throughout their lives. The rest of us end up addicted, seeking recovery or emotionally handicapped for the rest of ours. For some, the pain is so deep and so impervious the result is death.

I was reading an article tonight about the positive effects of life’s trials and tribulations. I especially liked the part about how trials teach us courage. It says they take away the fear of suffering and the dread of pain. I’ve found this to be true in my own life.

I used to do whatever it took to avoid having undesirable feelings. I fought tooth and nail to force uncomfortable situations back to comfortable. It never worked. So I drank for immediate and sustained relief. Since I always had to sober up sooner or later, that didn’t work either. Over the past few years situations arose rapid fire with unprecedented intensity and I was forced to stop fighting them and give in. Otherwise known as surrender this giving in led, at first, to depression and lethargy. That’s because I was giving up rather than truly surrendering, gently letting go with faith that things will be as they will no matter what I do. A real release of those things brings great physical and emotional results. 

I’ve found that the strength that comes from enduring tough situations, rather than running from them or trying to deflect them, is priceless. It provides peace and acts as insurance against feelings of futility in future dilemmas. Walking through what seems impossible gives us confidence in everything else we do and makes us more reliant upon ourselves but not solely self reliant. Because this strength comes only from faith in something outside of ourselves. Just ask anyone who’s had to summon all their might to get through something really difficult. They’ll almost always tell you it was a power greater than themselves leading them through.

My friend and I have found the greatest gifts imaginable in the very pain that we tried for so long to push away. When we discovered our own limitations and the significant hindrances of self medicating, we found rewards. It’s like picking through a trash pile and finding gold.