So, it's been over 8 years since I wrote my first blog entry on this website and over 2 since my last post. Obviously a lot of life has happened in between and yet I still feel as though this indulgent, self-reflective, half-assed attempt to write down my story tugs at my heart and my head. As a matter of fact, it seems as though I find myself once again in therapy and once again feeling silenced to tell my truth and aware of its power in my life today. Thankfully this writing is not prompted by yet another new serious medical diagnosis or a near death experience and I'm actually feeling mostly stable in my personal and professional life. I do not mean to imply happy, satisfied, fulfilled, or even content when using the word stable. I simply mean that there are no clear crisis happening and I am not in the midst of a total meltdown. Is this what they talk about when they say "after the surviving then comes the thriving"?
To catch up, here are my current life stats: I am a co-owner of a small private practice in the most major of metros in the small state of Iowa. I see approximately 32 clients per week with presenting issues that range from LGBTQ identity to relationship issues to ongoing symptoms from complex trauma. I make more money than I ever have or ever thought I ever could, particularly in this second career as a social worker. My wife also works in a different private practice as a FT associate and sees nearly 40 clients per week. She and I are the epitome of compassion fatigued and burned out therapists who now have a rather large combined income but do not know how to handle this much money as we've spent so much of our lives together being poor and in significant educational debt. We live in a suburb in one of those bedroom communities where the entire neighborhood is lined with beige sided, two story homes that all look eerily the same. I even still sometimes pass our house unable to distinguish it from the others if I'm not paying attention. We are the only gay couple and the only household without children on our block that is book ended by a grade school and a middle school in an upper middle class, mostly white, Christian area. My aging parents live two blocks away from said suburban enclave in a town home and my wife and I are committed to being their support and/or caretakers as they age. Isn't that an unpredictable turn of events? They are currently racking up the ravages of old age as they both hover around 80 years old and do actually require support from time to time. The clock ticks louder and louder that we may called to much more active care taking as each month passes. My social world is small and has been so over the past decade that we've lived in Iowa after moving from Chicago and 25 years of building a life there.
I am nearing my 48th birthday which really should just be considered my 50th birthday as it simply feels so close to this aging milestone. I continue to struggle with my weight (currently a moderately plump 215lbs) and have a myriad of health issues that are now considered chronic: a hiatal hernia and GERD, diverticulosis, chronic low iron after a course of blood thinners after a pulmonary embolism with no known cause, ongoing issues with basal cell skin cancers, an eye disease named PIC after some mysterious illness several years ago, and a myriad of orthopedic issues from misuse and age as well as a diskectomy/laminectomy as clearly defined in my Oprah chronicles in this very blog. I imagine if I took one of those true body age tests that my body would tell you I hover around the age of 72. I deal with a lot of chronic body pain and am now solidly in the "change", as my mother would call it, where I have periods at random intervals that are entirely unpredictable in their course and length paired with episodic rage, agitation, and low mood. I can affirm that I now definitively deal with pathological anxiety and have episodic panic sypmtoms...I am proud to say that I just had my first ER visit for a panic attack after fearing I may have been having a heart attack. Classic. I'm incredibly sedentary these days, aided by my job of literally sitting in the same chair for 55 minutes of every hour for 8-10 hours per day. Did I say that I continue to be overweight and struggle to make good food choices as food remains my only true enjoyment and reward these days? No wonder.
My trauma seems to express itself most obviously with my anxiety and health issues as well as my extreme difficulty prioritizing my physical and emotional health in service of staying stuck in a mostly routinized, unhappy, static life. My relationship skills are also a bit thin but my marriage remains in auto pilot as the combination of burnout and grief held between my wife and I renders us mostly dissociated, tired, and unable or unwilling to work on having a truly satisfying marriage. We have our moments, we still enjoy and choose each other, but I think we'd both tell you in the safety of a therapy room that our emotional, sexual, and life needs aren't truly being met in this life that we lead.
I find myself in the cliche of midlife crisis and review. I've finally landed in a position financially and situationally in my career that I have the power to increase or decrease my work commitments as needed and still make a significant income and yet I feel stuck and overwhelmed by co-owning a business with colleagues that are a pain in the ass and have a serious case of imposter syndrome as a therapist that only seems to grow as I continue at such a high pace of clients and yet feel woefully unable to commit to my own self care. My ability to create and nuture friendships and community seems to be severely lacking and I have no idea how/when to commit to building and maintaining the connections that I do have. My health and weight issues seem practically unsolvable as I cannot seem to balance both a work life and the demands of time and commitment needed for consistent self care. My marriage, as mentioned in prior paragraph, feels stuck and unable to provide more gratifying friendship or engagement than is currently offered. And, well, I cannot shake this unflappable PULL to somehow transform my trauma, my story, and my life in some way that I have not yet done. I cannot figure out if this is just a stab at control, fear of death as I age, a sense of shame that I have not become either famous or important in some significant way, or some actual signal from my deepest spiritual self that there is something more to do in this lifetime that both heals me and has a higher purpose. I am NOT a religious person but I do crave much more meaning and peace and contentment at this time in my life. Perhaps I have some fantastical belief that I can achieve a more Zen attitude if I do speak my truth or do something completely out of the box that is my life. Maybe I'm just bored and tired. Yes to that last sentence. No gut check needed there.
I've spent my fair share of time around dying people in this social work career primarily clustered around my experiences as an oncology social worker at a highly respected university hospital in Chicago...the one where the very Elisabeth Kubler-Ross came up with her famous 5 stages of grief. I've also lost a few folks in my life in tragic circumstances far before their time to go with so much left undone. I've even spent a few semesters teaching a grief theory course for BSW students. All of these experiences have informed my awareness that the things that truly make a life well spent are the loving relationships that we nurture, the purpose and value that we bring to others, and the risks that we take in the service of joy, growth, and experiences that nurture connection. I realize that what my life and my choices currently reflect are my commitment to safety and keeping my physical and emotional world predictable and small. For this, I blame my trauma history and my family of origin. Both have valued safety, emotional numbing, predictability, and reserving my emotional and physical energy as much as possible. I now realize that this approach to life has certainly worked to help me survive some truly difficult and dangerous circumstances but I also believe it is exactly what blunts my ability to thrive. While seeking comfort I abuse my body and my spirit. By numbing out and retreating I diminish the value of relationships and experiences in my life that have the potential to be filled with joy, laughter, love, and connection.
So what does all of this mean? I just reread those last few paragraphs and it certainly seems as though I'm building a strong argument for radical change in my personal and professional life. Or, actually, more like I'm complaining from a place of privilege and comfort. Both feel like authentic truth. I'm going to choose option one though, as it's far more sexy and interesting. How exactly does someone whose very life is curated to generate safety, predictability, and minimal stress go about making radical changes without being in a constant state of fear, anxiety, and overwhelm? What goes into making radical change in life without disrupting financial and situational norms? No fucking clue. Seriously, not a one. BUT...I commit now in this very blog which no one has ever visited since its creation in 2011 that I AM NOW DEDICATING MYSELF TO CREATING BIG CHANGES IN MY LIFE IN SERVICE OF MY PHYSICAL, EMOTIONAL, AND RELATIONSHIP HEALTH. That felt like screaming an important message into a silent room. BUT, I mean it. I'm going to have to somehow hold myself accountable to taking some gigantic risks in order to feel and be better and more fully alive in this life and I know my time is dwindling. Not in some dramatic I could die at any moment way (although, this of course is true) but more in a I've still got meaningful time to live a very different life kind of way. And, well, just like every single one of the thousands of clients that I've seen over the past 15 years, I am completely worth living my best life and feeling mostly healed and alive. Even though I believe that last statement I can tell I don't exactly feel it ringing truth in my heart. Here's to making change.
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