Emotional Intelligence: The Secret Superpower of Recovery

Let's talk about feelings. I know, I know, it sounds like the start of a cheesy rom-com or a bad 90s boy band song. But hear me out. See, most of us in recovery spent years trying to drown, numb, or just generally avoid our feelings like they were a bad ex. And it makes sense, right? If you've got a truckload of trauma and a side of toxic crap in your emotional backpack, the last thing you want to do is dig through all that.

But here's the thing: you can't avoid your feelings forever. And honestly, that's a good thing. See, your feelings are like your body's built-in GPS. They're always trying to tell you something - that you're safe, that you're in danger, that you're about to make a huge mistake, or that you just found something amazing.

The problem is, most of us never learned how to freaking read the map. That's where emotional intelligence comes in.

Emotional intelligence is just a fancy way of saying "being smart about your feelings." It's about understanding what you're feeling, why you're feeling it, and how to use that information to make your life better. It's like having a superpower, but instead of laser eyes or flying, you get to be awesome at the whole "being human" thing.

So how does this play out in recovery? Well, imagine being able to understand why you always get twitchy at family holidays, or why that one guy at the meeting always gets under your skin. Imagine being able to calm yourself down when things get stressful, instead of turning to your old friend Benzo or Betty Beer. Imagine being able to build real, honest relationships based on more than just shared war stories. That's what emotional intelligence gives you.

And it's not just about relationships. When you get good at the whole feelings thing, suddenly other areas of your life start to fall into place. You get better at standing up for yourself in court, at advocating for yourself to your PO, at nailing that job interview. You start to see that you're not just a screwed-up addict, but a person with strengths, weaknesses, and the ability to change.

So yeah, feelings can be scary. But they're also the key to building a life that's actually worth staying sober for. And the good news is, you can start building your emotional intelligence right now, no matter where you're at in your recovery journey. Here are a few ways to get started:

• Mindfulness: This is just a fancy way of saying "pay attention to the present moment." It's about noticing what you're feeling, without judgment. Try taking a few minutes each day to just focus on your breath, your body, and what's going on inside you. It's not about achieving some kind of zen master calm, it's just about practicing awareness.
• Labeling your emotions: When you start to feel something, try to put a label on it. Are you anxious, angry, excited, or sad? And then ask yourself why you might be feeling that way. Is it because of something going on in your life, or is it an old pattern resurfacing? The more you practice, the better you'll get at understanding your emotional landscape.
• Feeling without acting: This is a big one in early recovery. When you're flooded with emotions, it's easy to just react without thinking. But that often lands us in trouble. Instead, try to create a little space between feeling and acting. Take a few deep breaths, go for a walk, write in a journal - do something to process what you're feeling before you make a move. With time, you'll get better at responding instead of reacting.

It takes work, sure. But if you're willing to put in the effort, emotional intelligence can be your secret superpower on the road to recovery.-Belle- 

The Anthem of a Broken Generation: Unpacking Jelly Roll's "I Am Not Okay"

I'm not crying, you're crying. Okay, fine. I'm crying. Jelly Roll's new song "I Am Not Okay" has me sobbing like I just found out I'm allergic to beer. But these ain't sad tears, folks. They're the ugly, cathartic, someone-pass-the-tissues kind of tears that come with finally feeling seen.

Jelly Roll's raw, unflinching lyrics are a gut punch to anyone who's ever wrestled with their demons. And let's be real, that's most of us. Addiction, depression, anxiety - those are just the buzzwords. The real struggle is the feeling of being broken, of being so lost you can't see a way out of the dark.

But here's the magic of Jelly Roll: he's not just surviving, he's thriving. And he's bringing all of us messed-up, still-figuring-it-out folks along with him. With every heartbreaking lyric and soaring chorus, he's screaming one thing loud and clear: it's okay to not be okay.

From my own personal experiences and even my professional ones, I truly believe that depression, addiction and many of our dysfunctional behaviors are often a symptom of deeper trauma. We try to put band-aids over the bullet holes of our trauma, over the missing pieces of ourselves and our false belief systems. We use substances, we behave in certain ways, we live our lives in certain ways to numb, to not have to feel. But what is the real reason we don't want to feel? What are those things about ourselves, the world, and everything around us that put us in that position to begin with? And how do we even start to work on that?

"I Am Not Okay" is a raw exposition of struggle with mental health, clothed in the gritty reality of Jelly Roll's own experiences (Beats Rhymes Lists). The lyrics depict a journey through pain, confusion, and the relentless fight to maintain a semblance of normalcy despite the overwhelming struggles (Reddit). It's an emotionally raw song that delves into the singer's emotional pain and struggles with mental health (Billboard).

This is the kind of art that makes you feel less alone in your brokenness, and that, friends, is the first step towards healing. By confronting the brokenness head-on, by shining a light into the darkest corners of our souls, we can start to mend. We can start to question those deeply-held beliefs, to challenge the narratives that have held us back for so long. It may be a trigger for some of us, but it can also be a song of redemption, a song knowing that we are not alone.

And it's not just the music. Jelly Roll's whole story is one of radical redemption. From addiction to prison to becoming the voice of a generation, this is a dude who knows about hitting rock bottom and then finding a way to climb back up into the light. When he took home that Best New Artist of the Year award, he said something that stuck with me: "Anything is possible." It sounds cheesy, but hell, sometimes you just need to hear the cheesy stuff.

So yeah, Jelly Roll's making me cry. But they're the kind of tears that wash away all the crap you've been carrying, the kind that leave you feeling raw but somehow, somehow lighter. They're the kind of tears that remind you that even in the darkest corners of your soul, there's always a spark of hope. And maybe, just maybe, that's enough to keep us going, to keep us fighting, to keep us believing that things can get better.

And if that's not something to sing about, I don't know what is.-Belle-

Learning to Trust Myself Again: A Wild Ride of Recovery, CBT, and Not Totally Screwing Things Up

I used to trust myself about as much as I'd trust a raccoon with my lunch. Meaning, not at all. See, when you're deep in the throes of addiction, your internal compass is about as reliable as a drunk trying to give directions. You're constantly second-guessing, overthinking, and wondering if you're just messing everything up (spoiler alert: you probably are).

But, as the fog of substances starts to lift, you're left staring at this stranger in the mirror – yourself. And you have to start figuring out how to trust that guy/gal again. It's like trying to relearn how to ride a bike, except the bike's on fire and there's a cliff involved.

At first, it feels like you're making everything up as you go along. "Should I eat this sandwich? Is that a yes or a no?" It's exhausting. But slowly, you start to tune back into that little voice inside your head. You know, the one that's not screaming at you to drink/smoke/sleep till next Thursday. That guy starts to get louder again.

This is where tools like Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) come in handy. It's like learning to be your own life coach, but without the obnoxious whistle and pointless running drills. You start to catch those negative thought patterns, kinda like a baseball player snagging a fly ball, and you're like, "Oh, I'm about to spiral into a panic… let me reroute this."

You begin playing the tape forward, seeing how actions have consequences. It's like finally reading the instructions after you've been trying to build that IKEA bookshelf for an hour. Things start to make sense. You're not just reacting anymore, you're responding. You're not just surviving, you're kinda, sorta thriving.

Now, I'm not gonna lie and tell you it's all rainbows and kittens. There are still days when trusting myself feels like handing a toddler a box of sharpies and hoping for the best. But, the trick is to not totally freak out when things inevitably get messy. It's okay to not have all the answers. It's okay to still screw up sometimes. That's just, like, Tuesday.

And, yeah, there are slippery slopes. There'll be days when that old familiar voice whispers, "Just one drink won't hurt." But, you've got this. You've got tools, you've got support, and you've got a whole lot of reasons to keep moving forward.

So, who do you trust when you can't trust yourself? Well, that's where those pesky support groups and therapists come in. They're like having a spotter at the gym, except they won't judge you if you can only lift, like, a kettlebell. And, hey, talking about feeling like you can't trust your own brain? That's a great conversation starter! (Sarcasm alert!)

But, here's the thing: the more you practice trusting yourself, the easier it gets. It's like a weird, wonderful muscle that grows the more you use it. And, man, is it empowering. You start to realize you're capable of way more than you thought. You can totally order food without having a panic attack, or make a life decision without consulting a Magic 8-Ball.

Recovery isn't always easy, but it's worth it. Because, on the other side of all the hard work, is this person who's a little more whole, a little more themselves, every single day. And, yeah, that's a person you can trust. That's a person you can root for.

So, hey, if you're in the midst of that struggle, just know things get better. Keep showing up, even when you don't feel like it. Keep doing the next right thing, no matter how small it seems. Because, eventually, you'll look in the mirror and see a person you can trust, a person you actually kinda like. And, man, that's a beautiful thing.-Belle-