My 200-year present
I recently heard a theory about how we each live in a 200-year span of history.
You mark the beginning of your span, your “200-year present,” by thinking of the oldest person who could have held you as a baby (my great grandmother, born in 1900). You mark your span’s end by estimating the potential lifespan of the youngest person in your extended family that you have held (my 3-year-old nephew).
I estimate that my 200-year present is actually 215 years, from 1900-2115.
This concept has helped me understand my role – and my impact – within my family and the greater world.
A False Calm
Six weeks ago I got Botox for the first time.
I’ve always had good skin, a genetic gift found in my ancestry goodie bag, nestled between debilitating anxiety and alcoholic tendencies. (A mixed bag, for sure.) But gravity, sun damage and pharmaceutical marketing are powerful forces. So after years of trying to convince myself that I should love my laugh lines and complaining about how our culture doesn’t value age, especially in women, I swallowed all my feminist sentiments and shot my face up with botulism.
Of course it worked. I love it.
This is the world I live in – that we live in – a world of unceasing contradictions and tension. Some days I want to save the world, and some days I want to buy a pretty pair of shoes. But what I never, ever want to do is just be in the world – accept it, love it, and be content with what it is.
For 45 years of my 215-year span, I have worked to control and arrange things – to be successful in this Culture of More that is our current collective reality. Powered by a high-octane fuel of anxiety and fear, I got quite a bit done. Degrees, marriage, house, babies, jobs. My list has a lot of checked boxes.
But the fuel of fear and anxiety was eating me up. My alcoholic tendencies were flourishing. I stopped drinking, but cannot seem to stop trying to control and arrange things. My mind buzzes with thoughts of what might lie ahead. How do I adequately prepare myself and my family for the future? How do I make preparations – how do I get things done – without my toxic fuel?
Botox was like a shot of tequila for my face – it artificially and temporarily smoothed out my external edges. But now my outsides most definitely do not match my insides. My face displays a false calm while my mind continues to buzz. Serenity eludes me.
In the world. Not of the world.
My great grandmother converted to Catholicism as a teenager. Seeking serenity from her own century’s demons, she found it sitting in the back of a neighborhood church while she waited for friends to finish their weekly confessions. Converting to Catholicism against her family’s wishes was a radical act of self-love and a defining moment within her 200-year span. I know that this act sustained her throughout her long life because whenever she held me and my many cousins, she also held her rosary.
This is the 117th year of my 215-year present and I am painfully aware of my place in time and what is passed from generation to generation. I want to pass down a key to contentment, but where do I buy that? Organized religion holds as much appeal for me as botulism injections may have held for my great grandmother. And is not lost on me that both of them, organized religion and Botox, are part of a patriarchal structure that crosses way too many generational spans. They can be trappings and traps – distractions from the truth of our own worthiness, our own beauty.
At the heart of what has been passed down to me – and what I hope my own great granddaughter recognizes early in her life – is that the unyielding search for serenity is our common gift, passed down from many, many grandmothers. And along with this gift comes an understanding that while we are in the world, we are not of the world. These truths, and making our peace with them, allows us to just be in the world – accept it, love it, and be content with what it is.
Erin W. lives in Virginia where she has been working on and blogging about recovery since 2013. After years of trying to do recovery alone, she discovered the beauty of connection and friendship through She Recovers in 2017.
Thank you so much for this share. It really hit home to me. I’m turning 40 on the 22nd. Alcohol has been a part of my story since before my birth, and it still continues to be. However today I choose not to pick up. I still struggle with life, and fear and anxiety, pain and anger. I am learning to let it go.
I have been sober before. I got married, had kids, checked off the boxes, and stayed sober, but lonely and mostly dry. I found other ways to stuff the pain and I was miserable. One day I had an experience that woke me up and I began the journey of divorcing my husband. I stayed sober. After meeting my current husband, I chose to try alcohol again. I was older, smarter, and more in “control” ?
There started my journey back and it didn’t take long to re experience the low moments along with the highs, and the moments of demoralizing self degradation again. But now I had children. So after many such humiliating nights I chose to stop drinking again. I have reached out again and am connecting to other women, I have a sponsor. I am trying. It’s so hard to reach out in person, to be this vulnerable. To feel ok amongst other women sometimes. Because in my subconscious I know that I’m thinking “if they knew what I have done and saw me in those moments, they would be mortified and never accept me,” and that is what is blocking me from
reaching out. Consciously I know, I hear the words of acceptance. But we all really should do more to reach out unconditionally. Just because someone may look like they have it all together, like they haven’t really hit their bottom, we are just as screwed up inside as the best of them.
Thank you for your service. ?
Aliyah! Thank you for such a great comment. And THANK YOU for reaching out again and trying again. Deciding that I had to get my shit together for my kids was a huge (the biggest) motivator for me. But I needed people to help me do that and, as you say, trusting in other women can be so hard. I am glad you are doing that in person, as well as here/online, because that is what made the difference for me.
I think we all have the “if they knew what I have done …” shame thoughts. That shame keeps us in a dangerous place of loneliness. Comparing ourselves to others also keeps us in a dangerous place. We are all flawed – and all perfect, all at the same time. Embracing that conflicting truth saves us.
Bug hugs and love to you.
Erin,
Loved your Botox and Religion post. I am 61 years old and 67 days sober with Botox.
I waited as long to try botox and longer to admit that I needed to stop drinking.
I have been succesfully married for 38 years, have a 33year old son, 30 yr old daughter and 8month old grand-daughter! I have a beautiful life, yet I was circling the drain of depression, anxiety and self-loathing for the past ten years. Removing alcohol from my life was the missing piece to my puzzle. I am in IOP, Attending AA, reading, listening and learning.
I am grateful, joyful and returning to life!
This is such a wonderful comment! Thank you for sharing!
Heard your story on the Bubble Hour yesterday! It really helped, especially the part about ending the research and that I am worth more than that and just abstain. Thank you Erin for your courage, your wisdom, and your vulnerability. You have payed forward and continue to do so!
The Research Years are THE WORST, don’t you think? (Almost as bad as “small talk.”) So glad you enjoyed the Bubble Hour interview. Am placing the link to that show here in case others may be interested in listening. Recognizing our self worth is key to moving out of the Research Years and creating a life worthy of us! http://www.blogtalkradio.com/bubblehour/2018/07/16/erin-w-managing-editor-of-she-recovers-blog
Loved the Bubble Hour episode as well. Thank you Erin for being brave and giving me courage. loved the mantra creating a life worthy of me.
Here because of the Bubble Hour as well. You we’re great – said some really important things. Thanks for making us feel less alone.
Thanks for being here. Loneliness is a killer.
Hi Erin
I also heard your interviews with Jean.. I was riveted listening to your story. I’ve been a bubble hour listener for 3 years and never had the courage yet to reach out IRL. But your brutal honesty has given me the push to take this gigantic leap and actually write to someone who I can be honest with and would understand.. I am on the fn couch vicious cycle ? and I could use your help.. if you have the time to hear my story I’d greatly appreciate it ?
Annie. Thanks so much for reaching out. I would be honored to hear your story. Are you on our “secret” She Recovers Together Facebook page? You can email me at erin.she.recovers@gmail.com and we can get connected there. The pull of the couch is a bitch. Stay strong.
What a great article. Loved this line especially:
This is the world I live in – that we live in – a world of unceasing contradictions and tension. Some days I want to save the world, and some days I want to buy a pretty pair of shoes. But what I never, ever want to do is just be in the world – accept it, love it, and be content with what it is.
Just found SheRecovers and am enjoying the content very much.