A Cold One

   "A person without self-control is like a city with broken-down walls." Proverbs 25:28

  Thank You, Lord, for leading me to this verse. It is perfect in every way.

  The subaudible had its way with me yesterday. I found myself reacting to a situation which ignited the automatic responses which were mastered in the years I lived with a husband. 

  If the subaudible had a smell, it would be the aroma of whiskey, beer and manure caked, leather boots.

  If it had a sound, it would be the click and serpent's hiss of an opening beer can.

  Years ago, I went to a presentation regarding Eye Movement Therapy. It was held at the local Legion, the place where war veterans gather to drink. Even though it was in an environment I wanted no part of, the draw of learning about a way to heal trauma was far too important. 

  In the background, the Legion was preparing for opening. The tinkling, musical chatter of beer bottles, while harmless in and of itself, triggered a massive surge in my fight/flight response. The person doing the lecture was rather taken aback when I shared what was happening. She said my trauma was far too complicated for EMT to be much help and that I needed far more therapy than what this technique could offer.

  Over the years, I've learned there are no short cuts. Ya gotta do the work.

  I've also learned that the Lord is always there to help me see the way out. He is my greatest and most trustworthy therapist.

  I find myself rather disheartened in realizing just how quickly the subaudible can usurp my self-control. The smell of beer, the sound of a can opening, opens the floodgates. The old ways learned to survive the onslaught of anger and nastiness which were attached to these sounds takes over. All the things I did to appease the drinker smother the ability to even think about doing something else. The urgent need for survival also disconnects the thinking brain to allow the automatic mechanisms complete control. 

  I think our subconscious has no concept of time. It's sole purpose is for survival and it will cause us to do anything towards that goal. Even if the surviving is done in unhealthy and unsustainable ways. Yes, submissiveness helped me survive the long, dark years with an alcoholic. But in doing so, I lost myself.

  Even though I don't drink, alcohol made me its slave all the same.

  It's safe to say I lost control yesterday. Not in a violent, explosive way because that isn't in my nature but by assuming the posture of submission and appeasement. I behaved like a whipped dog. I didn't even realize that's what I was doing until today. I just knew something had gone terribly wrong.

  Oh, Lord, this pattern of behaviour is so deeply ingrained that I find myself incredibly disheartened. My marriage ended twenty years ago but that old life, the old ways, the un-Godly ways, still have the ability to hijack the present. And that's the hardest thing about all of this.

  Will I ever be free? 

  Help me, my Lord, find my way out.