It was never really about about my blood pressure.
My parents are on BP meds. I’m on BP meds. A year ago, I was running 140/89 at my annual appointment. I knew “the discussion” was coming about a dose increase and I was not a fan. This week, at my annual appointment, it was 116/73 — at the doctors office; after driving in traffic; after finally guzzling a 16 oz Americano; while working at every stop. 116/73
I have been using some new supplements. As always, I source the cleanest, highest quality supplements I can and purchase them from the most reputable seller. Increasingly, that’s directly from the manufacturer. I keep a foundation of vitamin C, methylated B vitamins, magnesium, trace minerals, adaptogens, and mushrooms. Recently, I added bovine brain, saffron, rhodiola, and inositol to support and heal my nervous system. As the nutritional support helped me feel better, I began to look inward and take a clear eyed look at what was going on in there.
The first and most powerful noticing was my own internal dialog. I was harsh with myself. I had little patience for my mistakes and could still summon visceral shame for decades old awkwardness. My inner voice spoke to me in ways I would never speak to another. This inside voice attended the helm of hyper vigilance, people pleasing, and a burning need to prove I’m good enough. When that voice stepped into my awareness, I met her face to face. Through active journaling, I named her Margaret and came to understand the role she played for a young girl who wanted to feel safe. It was a sacred job and she did it exceptionally well. As a child, I was fawned over for being smart, responsible, good, sweet, “no trouble”, and raising myself. I excelled everywhere I could and chided myself where I couldn’t. I felt constantly driven: do more, be more, know more, belong and be worthy. Every experience was filtered through my drive to prove I was good enough and Margaret was a task master.
Later, my first marriage, challenged everything I thought I knew about myself. It was a situation I should have left much earlier but it also provided another opportunity for me to be fawned over for being loving, evolved, kind, strong, and even a saint. I assure you, I am not a saint. I identified abandoning myself with safety in relationship and this marriage provided plenty of opportunities for me to self-abandon like it was a competition sport. That ended a decade ago but healing is complex, with infinite layers. So, here I was, making friends with my own harsh, inner critic.
Understanding the monumental job she’s done for so long and the love she must have felt to be so vigilant, brought compassion for what looked like exhaustion and a fried nervous system to me. She was born to keep me safe and now it was time for me to return the favor.
It became clear that Margaret needed a new job.
As I listened to what she had to share about her experience, Margaret let me see that control was to keep me safe but she was tired and I didn’t need protecting, in that way, anymore. She needed rest. I needed rest. We both needed to be cared for in a new way.
Margaret became the Namer of Self Care.
Immediately I shifted my awareness and when berating began, I called on Margaret to choose the self care she needed in that moment. Sometimes it was water, food, or a nap. Sometimes it was going outside, music, dancing, connection, tears, or meditation. Sometimes it was connection with another human being. It was a sacred contract and I delivered whatever care was needed, every time.
I only had to do it 4 times. The voice stopped and hasn’t come back.
Like so many people, I assumed that level of healing required years of fighting, scraping, and clawing. Healing is earned and sacrifice required. So, why only four times? What was it that turned the noticing into healing, almost spontaneously?
What I expected: I’m not sure I had any specific expectations. My goal was to listen, understand, and hold space for what came.
What actually happened: The exercise of open exploration shined a light on a situation that had been running in the background for most of my double-digit years.
How it felt: It was everything, everywhere, all at once, and overwhelming. I had tears for the little girl who needed that protection, the other little girl who dedicated her very life force to creating that safety, and the woman who bore the weight of all of it, still.
Why four times worked: Because, the power was in the noticing. It was in the listening. It was in the holding of space. It was in the compassion I felt for all of us.
We all have shadow selves, they are necessary and important learning throughout our lives. When we allow them to operate in a hidden system, it creates pain. When we sit with them and listen with compassion, we can integrate them into the helpful pieces of ourselves they were always meant to be.
Often, the physical healing we seek has an inner component, too. Sometimes, that inner component plays a larger role than we realize. Not all healing feels this spontaneous but some of it absolutely does. Every now and again, healing is simply about letting go.
Margaret now lives a comfortable retirement and still sends gentle reminders to fill my own cup. I appreciate her input and she appreciates that I listen.
Coming next to The Leak Series: Expectations and Resisting Reality