Facing your demons

Confront the dark parts of yourself, and work to banish them with illumination and forgiveness. Your willingness to wrestle with your demons will cause your angels to sing. Use the pain as fuel, as a reminder of your strength. ~August Wilson

Facing your inner demons...

The words can bring a variety of images to the mind depending on the hearer of these words; but one thing can be agreed upon- the images are not pleasant.

For me, when I think of the phrase "facing your inner demons" I'm not contemplating the idea that there are actual demons inside of me; but more of the personal challenges and conflicts that I face- that perhaps someone else does not; or maybe even dealing with or facing past truths that weren't so... pleasant. I don't know.

Either way- it conjures up (for me, that is) thoughts of inner and personal struggle, battle or survival. Conflicts and issues; battlefield of the mind; victories and defeat... all on a very personal or intimate level.

OMGosh- don't you just hate the serious tone that was just set? Okay... bringing it down a notch or two; um, or maybe I should say bringing it up. I guess I want to say that when facing those problems that try to bind or keep us down, that we shouldn't- um, I don't want to; have to fight those same enemies over and over, day after day. I mean- when and how do you know when you have finally defeated them? Surely it can't go on forEVER!

Argh! Things I can't stand; things I have to face, head on and arm-wrestle with CONSTANTLY:

• The alarm that tells me its time to take my meds at 9 A.M.
• The alarm that tells me its time to take my meds at 9 P.M.
• Swallowing a mouth full of medicine.
  
• Turning the lights out at night; not knowing if my body will let me sleep.
• Opening my eyes in the morning; wondering if I'll be able to get out of bed that day.
• Knowing that the sun is shining outside and my body telling me it can't make the short trip to the backyard.
• My body telling me I'm not hungry; my mind telling me I need to eat.
• Feeling guilt because the house needs attending; my body protesting any attempt to do so.
• Sitting up, turning, bringing legs and feet off the bed to rest on the floor; waiting for my muscles to calm themselves; the pains to subside to a functioning level.
• Being sick, in pain and no longer active, vital and free- truly free.
• Being the type to be gregarious; knowing the opportunities to release that energy, urge- desire simply no longer presents itself... because you are home bound; confined to bed.

Now... those are just a few of the winged assailants that fill my mind with barricades and obstructions- blocking my way to see past the obstacles preventing me from finding and realizing a solution.

Daily I experience this apprehension- as if something were missing. That feeling that I'm supposed to be doing something. That there is an event, activity, appointment- opportunity of some kind that is about to happen... but never does. It's most frustrating. I honestly do not know if it is simply a side-effect of one or more prescriptions I'm taking that causes this mental sensation or the fact that life was once filled every minute of the day with little to no time for relaxing and its hard for my psyche to absorb this and reverse to a complete stop; despite how long I've been going down this path. I guess that remains to be seen.

Its like missing someone- a person; despite the fact that physically they are there- with you. My Dad. My sweet little Dad. He is gone now; left us for a greater place, free from sickness and pain... about 3 1/2 years ago. Prior to the first stroke he was (being honest) gruff, distant, hard and absent (due to working nights/sleeping days) throughout mine and my sibling's childhood. He did have his moments of fun, corny jokes and story-telling; which is most likely were I get my gift for lengthy colloquy... from him! [LOL]

Anyway- after the first stroke, my Dad was limited to use of a wheelchair and on a good moment he could use a walker, although that part didn't last too long. But he mellowed and laughed and enjoyed everything around him. We helped set him up a nice apartment at a little retirement village where he made friends and played cards on a regular basis. I actually could talk with him and he listened and responded. He began to attend church services with me and there was a sweet, teddy bear thing going on with him. We enjoyed his company and had finally established a true Father / Daughter and Son relationships.

Pop's favorite (corny) joke:

Question: "What did the farmer say when he saw his cow coming over the hill?"
Answer: "Here comes my cow."

Question: "What did the farmer say when he saw his cow coming over the hill in sunglasses?
Answer: "Nothing. He didn't recognize him."

Then... several more strokes later and he changed again. His condition took away more than just his physical independence- his speech, his mind, his memories; all were affected significantly. But it took away HIM- who he was; who he had become to each of us. There he was- Dad... but not Dad. I can't tell you how many times I would leave him and just cry because I missed "my Dad," I missed my Pops- the Dad I had come to know and grew to love and wanted to protect and share life with.

And although my situation is not the same- the feeling of incompleteness; unfulfilled purpose are the same. Pops was physically with me... but no longer acting, talking or remembering like Pops; hence I missed my Dad long before he was actually gone.

A lot of times that is how I feel now- about me and what is going on here. I'm here (obviously) but I'm not... not the Joy that used to be here- not even close; like the essence of who I was is gone and I'm left with this... reflection. A reflection that is limited in mobility, overwhelmed by pain and held back by fatigue. And YUCK! Who wants to meet someone like that- let alone be that person?!

Thus... the inner demons, the battlefield of the mind and the wrestling. Oh how I hate them. The 'demons' that is. But no- I rarely, if ever (since beginning my journey to wellness, that is) give in to them. I use all I have within me to fight them.

Why is it that giving up/in is SOOOOO easy? While trying to accomplish something in way of combating and resisting is SOOOOOO hard? [wink] Oh, yeah- I am NOT going to say that struggling to overcome the tests or strife that are before us is easy. Why lie? Yes. The Bible does say that, "With God all things are possible to them that love the Lord and are called according to His purpose." Uh, yes- I also recall mentioning many times that I believe that God is El Shaddai (the God who is more than enough).

However, I realize that this thought process is going to be contrary to many other belief systems; but God never promised it would be easy... He promised He would be with us- when it wasn't easy.

And so I persevere and endeavor and all those other words Eleanor Roosevelt enjoyed tossing around! I fight... I fight. It is and would be easy to let those personal, inner demons take over and just lay back and watch for the end of the movie. But where is the victory in that? Where is the personal challenge and thus, personal victory? Where is the satisfaction in knowing that your day or life could have went this one direction, but you (I, me) rallied and fought back and thus changed the outcome... defeated the personal demons that haunt us.

Sure- the cellphone alarm sounds off at 9A and 9P and sometimes catches me off-guard (despite this being an ongoing occurrence) and I inwardly shriek... but I kick in, give a groan ('cause I can) and swallow those horrible little reminders of my condition. Then- I let it go and forget about it... uh- until it chimes out again. [LOL]

When I turn the light out and pull the cover up to my chin (or chins- depending on how I'm holding my head); yes- the voices of defeat begin to call out... loudly. But I remind myself that for the last several, SEVERAL months- that once I turn the light out and pray and prepare to sleep- that sleep has blessedly, blessedly come quickly; and the voices have very little time indeed to work that particular agenda.

For each inner demon that I come up against- I fight; I stand (figuratively that is) and pull whatever resources, strength and stubborn wherewithal I have left in me and although it may become a literal wrestling match between me, myself and I... regardless of the loser: I know that somewhere in there... I'm still going to win [LOL]. God is so good- he knows I could never do this on my own- and I never feel as if I am totally alone. If the negative words come to me telling me otherwise, that is when I close my eyes and call on Jesus... he always answers. I just love him.

And so.... I end with a quote- as I began this entry with a quote. I hope it helps, feeds and encourages you as it does me.

No matter how dark the moment, love and hope are always possible.
~ George Chakiris