Yesterday was Ash Wednesday, the start of Lent. You can always hear a silent, but collective groan from Catholics around the world on this day. Except from me. I practically find myself leaping into God's lap, tail wagging, saying, "Ooooo...I have an excuse to change who I am again!?"
It is pathetic. I am addicted to self-transformation. Please, don't ever go to the self-help section at your local Borders. Come to my house and look at my bookshelves. Not to mention, your cup of coffee would be free.
This is also when I usually hear about what my Catholic friends and family are giving up for Lent. And this is usually where I think, giving up? That is not what you are supposed to do! That is so fourth grade. What did you pick this year? Chocolate? Soda? So lame. Wouldn't you rather embark on a 40-day transformation journey?
So here I am. Another Lent. The same person I was before and after last Lent and the Lent before that, if not worse off. I now know that if I too had picked giving up chocolate or soda I would be at least a little lighter. Who was I to judge? We do what we are ready to do.
Guess what I am ready to do?
Give something up for Lent.
This is where I confess. For the last 10 years or so I have been on a slow, but steady hiding-the real-me-because-I-don't-like-the-real-me process. How? Stocking my shelves with half-read self-help books for one. How did it start? This is where I have to stop dead in my tracks, otherwise I will get on a 40-day blaming process when there is nothing to blame. Maybe it is because I am never honest with people. Always telling people that they don't hurt me when they do...telling friends that they are not asking too much of me when they are...then trying to actually be honest with myself and others and having it blow up in my face. No one wants honesty. Everyone wants validation. It is called running around in circles, and humans love to do it.
Except me. Enough. I am done.
Because the only way that I have figured out how to make it through the last 10 years has led me to the brink of substance abuse. There it is. My confession.
You can imagine what you want, and I assure you...there are some parts that are worse than you imagine and some that are better, but in a nutshell, my recipe has been as follows.
To shake off a hard day: A drink. Then another. Maybe another.
To sleep: A pill
To calm down: A different pill
Insert different pills and more drinks where needed per situation.
This is by no means much different than an average American who likes a drink, has minor anxiety and can't sleep. So am I an addict? No. Could I become one? Certainly. For me, at this moment, it is simply confusing the issues. Why do I need to shake off a hard day? Why can't I sleep? Why do I need to calm down? Who is the ME behind all of this masking?
So there you have it. My Lent. The substances have been given up. Me finding me, and hopefully discovering why me can't handle me. Raw and unfiltered me.
To my friends, please...no judgments. Just let me do this and try to understand if something odd or un-me comes flying out of my mouth.
And maybe next year, I will be lucky enough to give up chocolate.
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