I ordered two workbooks my yoyo inspector wants me to do work in. When the package came, I immediately opened the book to see if the order was right, but then took the box and deposited it in my bedroom, the infamous cave. Did I ever tell anyone what color my cave walls are painted? They're bohemian red (dark red). I have African masks on the walls and a few wooden African statues. Over my bed or at least one of my beds, the one in the "red room" (I have 3 places in the house I attempt sleep) I have a large framed Wizard of Oz poster.
Getting back to the point...my workbooks sat in the box until last night while I was watching Bill Maher's HBO show Real Time. I picked up the one titled The Courage to Heal Workbook For Women and Men Survivors of Child Sexual Abuse and held it in my hands for about 2 seconds before tossing it back in the box. Nope! I wasn't ready for that one yet! The other seemed less intimidating: Pain Recovery How to Find Balance and Reduce Suffering from Chronic Pain A Comprehensive Opioid-Free Approach. How's that for a title?
I opened the book and started reading. Almost immediately, there was a large caution written? Basically, it said cold turkey isn't the way to kick a habit. I wrote an "OOPS!!" in the margin. I guess that's not a good way to start a new program by doing things the Mildred Ratched method (like that way has worked so well for me in the past).
I got through the first exercise okay. I had to identify my causes of chronic pain from a rather long list. I checked off what applied to me. The next exercise, I read and went blank. I really didn't know what to write. I read it again and still drew a blank, so I went on to the next exercise. This little jewel was titled: Secondary Gain: A Hidden Barrier to Recovery. I felt like someone had slapped me in the face. I instantly felt so embarrassed and ashamed that I wanted to runaway or at least never come out of my cave again. I can't do this! I can't make myself feel worse while I'm already teetering on the edge. My very thin lifeline has been being able to express how I feel and now I feel I shouldn't do that because it's a secondary gain. WTF!!! Retreat! Stay silent! Don't ask, don't tell!
To quote the book: Secondary gain refers to any perceived benefit you receive from having pain. If not indentified, secondary gain gives you unconscious reasons for holding onto your pain. This does not mean you are pretending to hurt for the benefits you get, just that the perceived benefits make pain rewarding in some ways and thus more complicated to treat. (pain junkie aka glutton for punishmnet)
My next blog entry will deal with the list of perceived payoffs I get for being in pain. I need awhile to warp my short-circuited brain around this so I can start to move past it. This isn't something I want to do because just the thought of secondary gain is causing me pain, stress, embarrassment and shame, but since I'm a glutton for punishment I'll do it and I'll do it with honesty and conviction.
Gratitude statement: Although recovering is a difficult and lifelong process, taking the first step is the hardest. I'm thankful for having the courage and good sense to take that first step.
Sleep finally came sometime after 3am. I drifted off while watching the shows I had recorded on my DVR. I don't remember dreaming, but that isn't unusual for someone with sleep apnea. The place where dreams live somewhere deep in R.E.M., is a place that prohibits apneatic individuals from entering.
When I sleep, I sleep in dreamless slumber. I awake feeling as if someone had been scratching around inside my head. Today, I awoke shortly after 6am feeling sick; almost as if I had a hangover without the benefit of being drunk. After sitting on the edge of the couch for several minutes contemplating if my legs were actually strong enough to support me, I stood slowly and staggered to the kitchen for a drink of water. What desert had I trudged across in my few hours of sleep to cause this excessive thirst? Who had I battled to feel this sore?
Gratitude statement: I was going to write TGIF, but I haven't worked since December 2008, so Friday is Sunday is Wednesday to me. How about this...I hear birds singing again this morning and for those melodious creatures I am thankful. They sing and fly and remind me how much more beautiful they are than mankind.
Hail to vampires, The French Quarter, Mardi Gras, Anne Rice, The New Orleans Saints and all those things that make New Orleans the city of mystique that it is.
Gratitude statement: I am truly thankful that the pen really is mightier than the sword.
My first "sleep vice" will be designed for my sadomasochist clientele....a full-length body foam rubber encasement (similar to memory foam pillows and mattresses, but softer...that stuff may mold to your body, but it's not comfortable) lined with rose thorns. A similiar version can be made with a sandpaper lining for those people looking for alittle discomfort and displeasure, but not actual pain. Stay tuned for more creative sleep aids.
Gratitude statement: I'm thankful I'm not a sadomasochist.
I think the whole point to sleep is to awake refreshed and revitalized and ready for the day ahead. When I do sleep it's in a very broken fashion. It seems every time I move, I wake up in pain. I wonder if there's some device to hold a person in one position so they cannot move at all. Duck tape can get expensive! Wait...maybe I need to patent that idea. I'll be really pissed off if in ten years from now, I see an ad on the TV for a "sleep vice" and I didn't create it.
Gratitude statement: I'm thankful for the friends who hang in there with me even when I don't deserve their loyalty.
A loving and very concerned cousin told me that I needed to get a "herring choker." A what? A downeaster, a lumberjack, a fisherman...a good old Mainiac! You know he might have a point...I have been in self-imposed "time out" what seems like forever. Why? Well, I have impaired judgment when it comes to men. I like the badboys! No, I don't want to fix them...I want them to stay just as they are and there lies the problem. Badboys and relationships don't go together very well. Nice = boring in my mind! Okay, I know that thinking is wrong so that's why I'm in "time-out." Naughty me! I need time to sort through the error of my ways and fix my thinking regarding men and my preferences.
Gratitude statement: Thank God for time-out because it keeps me out of trouble!
According to the YoYo Inspector I'm seeing to cure me of my cave-dwelling ways, I should "journal" everyday. Does blogging count as journaling? I can choose my own topic, but at the end of each entry I'm supposed to include at least one "gratitude" statement. Okay...got it! I'm ready to start this journey!
Gratitude statement: I'm mighty grateful I don't have hemorrhoids.
I ordered two workbooks my yoyo inspector wants me to do work in. When the package came, I immediately opened the book to see if the order was right, but then took the box and deposited it in my bedroom, the infamous cave. Did I ever tell anyone what color my cave walls are painted? They're bohemian red (dark red). I have African masks on the walls and a few wooden African statues. Over my bed or at least one of my beds, the one in the "red room" (I have 3 places in the house I attempt sleep) I have a large framed Wizard of Oz poster.
I got through the first exercise okay. I had to identify my causes of chronic pain from a rather long list. I checked off what applied to me. The next exercise, I read and went blank. I really didn't know what to write. I read it again and still drew a blank, so I went on to the next exercise. This little jewel was titled: Secondary Gain: A Hidden Barrier to Recovery. I felt like someone had slapped me in the face. I instantly felt so embarrassed and ashamed that I wanted to runaway or at least never come out of my cave again. I can't do this! I can't make myself feel worse while I'm already teetering on the edge. My very thin lifeline has been being able to express how I feel and now I feel I shouldn't do that because it's a secondary gain. WTF!!! Retreat! Stay silent! Don't ask, don't tell! 
