Step 1: Shadow Me
In the healing rooms of recovery, I finally recognized that I had a shadow self. One that no one else knew about. The visible me was a lie. The shadow me was reality.
My experience is not unique. The following was excerpted from comments by Chaz. One Direction–Forward
The sharing I heard in the rooms of AA really helped me to recognize, accept, and admit how dishonest I had become. Hearing others became a pathway I could follow to ‘come out’ as a liar. The reflexive pain of regret over having become such a person always found ways to excuse, dismiss, avoid, or simply flinch from even touching on the possibility of dealing the subject. When I heard others who I came to know and respect get up and admit their sick dishonesty, it was like having warm, soothing, healing oil poured over my aching heart. I knew right away that if they could do it, so could I. And eventually I did.
I did, too. The first task was admitting to myself that I was being dishonest about the reality of my life. I didn’t want to look at it. I kept flinching…but there it was. In the secrecy of my heart, I began answering these shadow questions:
- What would shock others if they knew it about my life?
- What am I afraid people would think (or do) if they knew my shadow self?
- What is it costing me to live in my shadow life?
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PS: It was the beginning of recovery. Consider the 12 Steps for General Use: Step 1: We admitted we were powerless over our addiction or dysfunction – that our lives had become unmanageable
Chaz– ” I do not think I could ever know the exact nature of my wrongs on my own. It took divine revelation and reflection of others who have walked similar paths.” Very true. I don’t think I realized how much I needed help seeing my deception. Even here, the ego wants credit. Very true. You’re right: its impossible to spot deception on our own, especially self-deception. I do thank God for recovery communities, and in that, I include blogs. Thank you for stopping by and for the enlightened comment. I appreciate your being a part of the GoodLIfe Group.
Heidi…. I think this is why step 4 came about. We admitted to God, ourselves, and another human being, the exact nature of our wrongs. Frankly, I do not think I could ever know the exact nature of my wrongs on my own. It took divine revelation and reflection of others who have walked similar paths.
Dishonesty was a frequent manifestation of my wrongs. But, it was not the core, not the exact nature. The exact nature was usually fear. I was afraid of something so I created dishonesty around it to hide it from myself and others. Not unlike a little dog putting on a big show by barking ferociously at people from his porch. But when someone or a bigger dog actually approach him, he runs. He in a sense is a dishonest, yappy little dog. His yappyness does not represent the fearful little creature he really is.
A friend of mine bases his ministry much on Jeremiah 17:9 “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it?”. Meaning that one of the great the plights of humanity is self-deception. Keeping in mind this verse is thousands of years old and we are still dealing with this practice of self deception and buried motive.
And I drew some common recovery horse sense from a cd I listened to by a Steve T regarding recovery and emotions in which Steve, just another recovering addict, suggests profoundly… “It is pretty much impossible to spot self-deception …. on your own!”.
Yet isn’t this what we sought to do prior to hitting bottom? And isn’t this where we got stuck before we entered the rooms full of others just like us…. and began working the steps with other living, breathing, human beings? Caught in this futile and hopelessly biased isolative self-assessment lead by our sickest and sneakiest of foes, our alcoholic thinking?
And does our alcoholic thinking not seek to self-preserve by constantly throwing up distractions, deceits, and decoys to the hideous truth of its own Gollum-esque existence? In my experience, yes.
Thank God for communities of recovery. In fact, as a particularly contorted guy I once knew in recovery once profoundly said, “Thank God for God”!
Lori–Glad you got something from it. Thanks for saying so.
Judi– I appreciate your being here. Glad you stopped by.
Courage to be vulnerable. Very good words and questions.
A thumbs up ‘like’ for this one, as usual.