Relapse
I wonder if relapse is our attempt
to give language to
non-linearity
It’s so much easier to say I
believe in the non-linear
process of healing and liberation
than to experience it
I wonder if I reframed my relapses
as the liminal spaces
of wholeness
And met them with compassionate
curiosity — perhaps my
resistance to them would loosen and
I wouldn’t feel trapped in them
When I was in the Evangelical world
To “Backslide” was one of my greatest fears
To do so, meant to lose it all
So, I wore the skirts, didn’t swear, read the Bible, did Devotions, lifted my hands, volunteered,
taught Sunday School, went overseas to ‘help’, for so many years
Not realizing that each year ‘Forward’
Was actually pushing me further and further Back from my most authentic self
I’ve slid so far Back now
That I’ve been able to start on a new path
Of Freedom
I’m going to be mulling over this one a lot! Beautiful.
“I’ll spend less time on the Internet
from now on,” I say.
“After all, it’s not real life
and social media makes me anxious
and I have better things to do than
doomscrolling.”
Outside a mockingbird is singing through his repertoire with all his might
but here I am inside,
scrolling, scrolling, scrolling.
relapse
a part of me
spiritual, emotional, mental
feels neglected
cries out deeply
Intensely
to be soothed
physically
satially
carnally
with an
"aaahhhh"
temporary relief
then realization
is a cruel
seductress
just temporary
relief
not true
healing
The goal is to recover
To get past this
To get over this
To get through this
One day, sometime, soon
This will all be behind you
Look how far you have come
Hooray! You did it!
Until it all comes flooding back
A memory
A letter
A song
A place
A comment
Or a question
And there you are,
Right back in the midst of it
Fighting to get through it
To get over it
To get past it
To recover
From your relapse
Inhale and exhale, all the same
rhythms crammed into a day
are in revolt, torrid and tame,
relapsing shadows won’t hide away.
Rhythms I crammed into each day,
like unwelcome advice on an early train,
relapse into shadows I can’t hide away,
grieving a chance to attempt a refrain.
Unwelcome advice is an early train.
Healing is a revolt, torrid and tame,
granted a chance to endure a refrain,
exhale and inhale, all the same.
As others have written,
Their words have spoken.
A truth
An understanding
A reality - that I am not alone.
That even knowing the right steps
or actions
to good health and wholeness
They are often not the ones I chose.
From one more TikTok
To one more Oreo
It’s all the same.
Relapsing into places and things
that feel good or taste good
just in that moment.
Rather than the needed actions
and rest
for the long haul.
Alarm set for morning run.
Phone is set to silent.
Prepped for a reset.
DONE.
GOOD BYE.
FUCK YOU.
knock.knock.knock.
......shit.
Relapse,
Perhaps, is the sudden
Collapse, but NOT of my
Streak of perfection or the
Shriek as I tumble down the
Peak of the summit,
Weak from the tireless
Striving toward
Thriving but only
Surviving and
Nosediving while
Overdriving.
But
Collapse of Self Compassion that
Unwraps, tossing me back into
Traps of
Condemnation
Castigation
Vilification of
Becoming
I'm noticing now,
when I'm backsliding into burnout.
I feel the fatigue.
I can't manage the meltdowns
or stave off the shutdowns.
My stomach stirs,
my mind is muddled.
I'm overstimulated and overwhelmed.
With a new awareness,
I'm learning to navigate life
in this brain and body
that require more rest.
I'm honoring my autonomy.
I'm giving myself grace,
compassion, and kindness
to be in the in-between.
Deep down,
I think
my soul is saying,
"thank you."
On Finding Out that “Lip” and “Lapse” Come from the Same Word
-
A slip of the tongue
Words that can’t be taken back
Tumbling down a muddy hillside
Losing your footing, time stands still
Finding your center of gravity
Holding on for for dear lifetime
Slide into this moment
Backslide and start again
Glide towards glory
https://etymologeek.com/eng/lapse
https://etymologeek.com/eng/lip
This is a tender word for me.
I've experienced it.
I know some of the warning signs:
Lack of motivation,
Little energy, and
"what if's?" dominating my brain.
I wonder a lot about time.
Is it Western with your productivity at the center?
Is it a therapist's time with growth?
Is it a liturgical time that's countercultural?
This time will be different.
Will it? Will the depression and anxiety
go back to their respective hells?
The grief is real
because they won't.
They enter uninvited and without welcome.
Agoraphobia traps my feet.
I see the horizon
but all I can do in this moment
is see.
It's no consolation.
Just an endless cycle of my reality
breathing, waiting, and mourning
the unwelcome world we've created.
I hate it when I feel it again
The relapse
I thought it was gone
Now I have to do it all over again
Hopefully, this time there won’t be another
I might never understand completely
Just why I chose to inflict my pain on others
Especially those I claimed to love the most
Over
And over
Once the awareness arrived
The pain was directed, stored inside
directed at myself
If it wasn’t for that time alone
And some very strong, loving friends
That broken record might still be playing
Singer-Songwriter, legendary Country Music Outlaw Jerry Jeff Walker
Sang a song about Pissin in the wind,
bettin on a losing friend
Makin the same mistakes we said
We’d never make again
I was comforted when I first heard that song
Halleluiah, I’m not alone!
For me some of the most hopeful
Songs are about relapse
And keeping on keeping on.
I saw a country blues song writer perform
The other night
I noticed the small RV he was traveling in.
The one bumper sticker said,
“Thank God for Johnny Cash”
I wonder if relapse is our attempt
to give language to
non-linearity
It’s so much easier to say I
believe in the non-linear
process of healing and liberation
than to experience it
I wonder if I reframed my relapses
as the liminal spaces
of wholeness
And met them with compassionate
curiosity — perhaps my
resistance to them would loosen and
I wouldn’t feel trapped in them
Relapse
When I was in the Evangelical world
To “Backslide” was one of my greatest fears
To do so, meant to lose it all
So, I wore the skirts, didn’t swear, read the Bible, did Devotions, lifted my hands, volunteered,
taught Sunday School, went overseas to ‘help’, for so many years
Not realizing that each year ‘Forward’
Was actually pushing me further and further Back from my most authentic self
I’ve slid so far Back now
That I’ve been able to start on a new path
Of Freedom
I’m going to be mulling over this one a lot! Beautiful.
Relapse
“I’ll spend less time on the Internet
from now on,” I say.
“After all, it’s not real life
and social media makes me anxious
and I have better things to do than
doomscrolling.”
Outside a mockingbird is singing through his repertoire with all his might
but here I am inside,
scrolling, scrolling, scrolling.
relapse
a part of me
spiritual, emotional, mental
feels neglected
cries out deeply
Intensely
to be soothed
physically
satially
carnally
with an
"aaahhhh"
temporary relief
then realization
relapse
is a cruel
seductress
just temporary
relief
not true
healing
Relapse
The goal is to recover
To get past this
To get over this
To get through this
One day, sometime, soon
This will all be behind you
Look how far you have come
Hooray! You did it!
Until it all comes flooding back
A memory
A letter
A song
A place
A comment
Or a question
And there you are,
Right back in the midst of it
Fighting to get through it
To get over it
To get past it
To recover
From your relapse
Inhale and exhale, all the same
rhythms crammed into a day
are in revolt, torrid and tame,
relapsing shadows won’t hide away.
Rhythms I crammed into each day,
like unwelcome advice on an early train,
relapse into shadows I can’t hide away,
grieving a chance to attempt a refrain.
Unwelcome advice is an early train.
Healing is a revolt, torrid and tame,
granted a chance to endure a refrain,
exhale and inhale, all the same.
As others have written,
Their words have spoken.
A truth
An understanding
A reality - that I am not alone.
That even knowing the right steps
or actions
to good health and wholeness
They are often not the ones I chose.
From one more TikTok
To one more Oreo
It’s all the same.
Relapsing into places and things
that feel good or taste good
just in that moment.
Rather than the needed actions
and rest
for the long haul.
Alarm set for morning run.
Phone is set to silent.
Prepped for a reset.
DONE.
GOOD BYE.
FUCK YOU.
knock.knock.knock.
......shit.
Relapse,
Perhaps, is the sudden
Collapse, but NOT of my
Streak of perfection or the
Shriek as I tumble down the
Peak of the summit,
Weak from the tireless
Striving toward
Thriving but only
Surviving and
Nosediving while
Overdriving.
But
Relapse,
Perhaps, is the sudden
Collapse of Self Compassion that
Unwraps, tossing me back into
Traps of
Condemnation
Castigation
Vilification of
Becoming
I'm noticing now,
when I'm backsliding into burnout.
I feel the fatigue.
I can't manage the meltdowns
or stave off the shutdowns.
My stomach stirs,
my mind is muddled.
I'm overstimulated and overwhelmed.
With a new awareness,
I'm learning to navigate life
in this brain and body
that require more rest.
I'm honoring my autonomy.
I'm giving myself grace,
compassion, and kindness
to be in the in-between.
Deep down,
I think
my soul is saying,
"thank you."
On Finding Out that “Lip” and “Lapse” Come from the Same Word
-
-
A slip of the tongue
Words that can’t be taken back
Tumbling down a muddy hillside
-
Losing your footing, time stands still
Finding your center of gravity
Holding on for for dear lifetime
-
Slide into this moment
Backslide and start again
Glide towards glory
-
-
-
-
https://etymologeek.com/eng/lapse
https://etymologeek.com/eng/lip
This is a tender word for me.
I've experienced it.
I know some of the warning signs:
Lack of motivation,
Little energy, and
"what if's?" dominating my brain.
I wonder a lot about time.
Is it Western with your productivity at the center?
Is it a therapist's time with growth?
Is it a liturgical time that's countercultural?
This time will be different.
Will it? Will the depression and anxiety
go back to their respective hells?
The grief is real
because they won't.
They enter uninvited and without welcome.
Agoraphobia traps my feet.
I see the horizon
but all I can do in this moment
is see.
It's no consolation.
Just an endless cycle of my reality
breathing, waiting, and mourning
the unwelcome world we've created.
Relapse
I hate it when I feel it again
The relapse
I thought it was gone
Now I have to do it all over again
Hopefully, this time there won’t be another
Relapse
I might never understand completely
Just why I chose to inflict my pain on others
Especially those I claimed to love the most
Over
And over
And over
Once the awareness arrived
The pain was directed, stored inside
Relapse
directed at myself
Over
And over
And over
If it wasn’t for that time alone
And some very strong, loving friends
That broken record might still be playing
Over
And over
And over
Singer-Songwriter, legendary Country Music Outlaw Jerry Jeff Walker
Sang a song about Pissin in the wind,
bettin on a losing friend
Makin the same mistakes we said
We’d never make again
I was comforted when I first heard that song
Halleluiah, I’m not alone!
For me some of the most hopeful
Songs are about relapse
And keeping on keeping on.
I saw a country blues song writer perform
The other night
I noticed the small RV he was traveling in.
The one bumper sticker said,
“Thank God for Johnny Cash”