Weekends are days to either slouch about completely and ignore the outside world, or rush around and get everything done that has been neglected throughout the work week. Today was a “I need to get this done” sort of day, so I shucked off the jammies and sallied forth.
A funny thing happened to me about a year and a half ago. I finally capitulated to the optometrists’ strong suggestion that I begin wearing glasses full-time, and not just the readers I wear on an as-needed basis. I really didn’t like the idea, and opted for the graduated bifocal lens. This particular product, for those (lucky) unfamiliar souls, is designed for the lens to be dual purpose and allow for near and farsighted correction, without the pesky line of a traditional bifocal.
So the first month I spent trying to get used to these things, and I was warned to be careful of stairs. Um, okay. I basically have VERY altered depth perception as a result of the lenses, and sometimes forget to push them out of the way during tasks that require a precise read on my distance. My garage door is a sad reminder to my forgetfulness in this area. And I was reminded again today, when I did not see a step when exiting the pedicure station at the salon and took a dramatic tumble onto the floor.
Lying there, with all eyes on me, was probably the worst part about the fall. Worse that the aches and pains I feel as a result, and true, I am very grateful not to have injured myself seriously. But when we have a fall in recovery, whether it includes a lot of eyes and drama, or it’s a quiet episode, our first inclination is to run home and hide out, away from the embarrassment of people eyeballing your clumsiness or failing. This was my response today, as the shop keeper tried to get me to sit for a moment to catch my breath and sip some water. I really just wanted to escape. In relapse, sometimes that’s how we feel too. We just want to escape, away from the drama and our feelings of embarrassment and shame.
But our tools tell us no. That is precisely when we need to run towards our support peeps. Call our sponsor or friend in recovery. Let them know how we’re doing, even if we can’t tell the whole tale yet, at least check in, and get pointed back on the road. It’s ok to have the feelings, my goodness, we wouldn’t be human if we didn’t. But I can’t let my shame push me farther away from wholeness and healing, just because I slipped and fell.
Stuff happens. I forget my depth perception is lousy with my glasses on. Grace abounds.
Much love, grace and peace to you my friends. Big Hugs. 🤓