The Joy Within… Even When Everything Sucks

Today’s Just for Today was called “The Joy Within,” and apparently my Higher Power decided I needed to be personally attacked before I even finished my coffee.

The reading talks about how easy it is to look outside ourselves for something to make us feel better… and how real joy, peace, and emotional security have to come from somewhere deeper.

Which is a lovely concept.

Unfortunately, my brain has recently decided that discontent, wallowing, and self-pity are hobbies.

And the frustrating part is that some of it feels justified.

I’m in pain. Real, physical, every-single-day pain. I have an extruding herniated disc, a bulging disc, stenosis, and spondylosis. Do I completely understand what half of those words mean? Absolutely not. I just know my back and leg hurt like hell and apparently my spine has chosen violence.

Then there’s my mom moving.

Her closing date is getting closer and closer, and there really isn’t a positive little recovery bow I can tie around that one.

It sucks.

I don’t want her to move. I’m sad about it. I’m going to miss having her close. And when people immediately jump to, “You’ll be okay!” I know they mean well. I know I’ll be okay too.

But knowing I’ll be okay doesn’t mean I have to pretend something doesn’t make my stomach wanna fall out of my butt.

And I think that’s where recovery gets interesting.

Because my addiction LOVES a legitimate problem.

Give my brain something that actually sucks and suddenly it has evidence for its entire case:

See? Your life sucks. You should feel sorry for yourself. Nothing is going right. Nothing is going to get better, it’s only getting worse. You might as well sit here and obsess about it for the next six business days.

The pain is real.

The sadness about my mom moving is real.

But the story my brain starts building around those things?

That’s where I have to pay attention.

There’s a difference between allowing myself to be sad and turning self-pity into my permanent dwelling.

There’s a difference between acknowledging that I’m hurting and deciding that because I’m hurting, everything is terrible.

And there is definitely a difference between feeling my feelings and feeding them.

For almost 20 years, I didn’t know how to sit with uncomfortable feelings. If I was sad, lonely, angry, scared, bored, disappointed, or physically uncomfortable, I had an answer for it.

Use something.

Change how I feel.

Escape.

Recovery took away my escape hatch, which was incredibly rude at first.

But it also taught me that feelings change without me having to destroy my life trying to change them.

That’s why I need reminders like today’s reading.

Because lately I’ve caught myself focusing so much on what hurts and what’s changing that I can completely overlook what’s still good.

I’m clean.

I have people who love me.

I have a program.

I have a Higher Power.

I have people I can call when my brain starts treating me like shit.

I have things in my life today that I genuinely care about.

And none of those things make my back hurt less or make me suddenly thrilled about my mom moving.

They aren’t supposed to.

Gratitude doesn’t require me to pretend pain isn’t painful.

Recovery doesn’t mean I have to slap a positive affirmation over every shitty situation.

Sometimes something just sucks.

The difference today is that I don’t have to let one painful part of my life convince me that my whole life is painful.

I can be sad and still have joy.

I can hurt and still be grateful.

I can hate what’s happening and still accept that it’s happening.

I can even wallow for a minute. I’m human.

I just can’t unpack my bags and live there.

So, yay for reminders from the program showing up exactly when my brain is trying to convince me that I have absolutely nothing to be happy about.

Today I’m going to let what hurts, hurt.

And then I’m going to look for the joy that’s still here.

Because apparently I can’t buy that shit at Target.

But if you see me at the bead store… mind your business.