You Can Either Laugh or Cry........

I haven't been here to post in a while.  I haven't visited your blogs either.  But, true to this blog's name, I have been praying for you and your addicted loved ones.

 

Prayer is a joining up in relationship with my power who is Greater than myself--we had to work that one out but I've finally come around to His way of thinking....but, I digress.  I have been deeply working through prayer these last few months.

 

One way that I have found to pray is through writing.  I have been afraid to say that out loud even though  I have been calling myself a writer for a couple years .  I decided that it was okay to do that because --well, anyone can write.  But,  really what I  would like most is to become an author and that is an entirely different beast.  That means that I need to learn to write well.

 

I have been hunkered down working on a project that I will share more about later as I get a better handle on it.

 

My son is working at a wonderful restaurant and doing an IOP.  I am working very hard at staying out of his business.  And, when I forget, he is thoughtful enough to remind me.  It is a work in progress. 

 

Big Sister is in Louisiana in a doctoral program.  Her school got out for Mardi Gras (apparently we all went to the wrong school).  I think it was a great experience for her.  And," no there was no flashing for beads going on, Mom, in case you were wondering."

 

 

 

 

 

 

Little Sister is in her very last year of nursing (BSN) and was hired at a hospital as a CNA(certified nurses assistant) PRN (as needed).  She is thrilled about this as it helps her to make connections once she graduates,  because she is so afraid that she will never be hired.  Did you all know that it takes experience to get experience?  Because, I could not have possibly known that until she sat me down to explain it to me in slow......, loud .....words.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Dad has brought a new standard poodle puppy into our world.  He assures me that they are intelligent animals.  He (Louis) has chewed every magazine in our home.  He even went to the newspaper recycle basket and went through the entire stack to find any shiny magazine-like pages and pulled those out to chew into rice sized pieces which he evenly distributed all over the sofa and floor.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He can pull the runner off of kitchen table.  He has not yet mastered the trick of keeping the napkins and salt and pepper shaker in their place when he rips the runner off of the table.  I am sure he will keep trying.

 

He has decided that we shouldn't be able to snack while sitting on the sofa since he cannot share with us--thus he has chewed up each and every coaster that we own.

 

And, he has a distinct eye for fashion.  He skipped over every cheap pair of flip flops that I own, opting for my expensive OluKai ones with the much needed 'old lady arch supports' for his chewing pleasure.

 

See, I told you he is intelligent.  Maybe I need a new trainer. 

 

I'm going to a silent three day directed retreat next week and then going to visit Big Sister.  I'll remember you there and your loved ones as I pray for Henry and all of you.

 

 

 

 

A Little of This and a LIttle of That

It's been a frigid week here in middle Tennessee.  The dogs and I are over being stuck inside.  My skin is even drier than usual, I'm shocking everybody and everything that I touch and I'm starting to feel claustrophobic!  But, better days are ahead.  I looked up sunrise and sunset times for our area and learned that the last ten days of this month gain us 15-16 additional minutes of sunlight.  Sunlight is so important to my mood, I have learned.  I'm thinking of buying one of those clocks that gets brighter as morning approaches.

I received so many thoughtful comments on my last post regarding shame that I decided to give another bit of what I learned here.  Someone commented that they thought that shame can be a good thing and it can.  There is normal healthy shame.  Shame is good when it serves as a boundary to protect us.  The book describes an infant who gets embarrassed when a stranger approaches them as one of the first signs of healthy shame.  Feeling guilty when something tastes so good is a great reminder to stop eating before we overindulge. 

Shame becomes toxic when it becomes internalized.  Healthy shame says I made a mistake; toxic shame says I am the mistake.  When shame is internalized a person feels so bad about themselves that they create a false self.  The author of the book is an adult child of an alcoholic and a recovering alcoholic himself.  In one section he uses the twelve steps of AA to to explain how each steps works to restore our relationship to God, self, friend and neighbor through the twelve step program.  Once our relationship is restored to self, there is no need for a false self.  It was such a thoughtful book that it helped me to have a better grasp on what the twelve steps are actually doing in my life.

I had a great day Friday visiting with a cousin.  She has three children.  Two of the three have cystic fibrosis.  So she wanted to start blogging about her experience in the midst of that disease.  We sat with our readers on trying to set up a new word press blog, with neither of us very savvy at setting up a web page.  We fumbled and laughed all day long.  It was so much fun.  Maybe this getting older will afford us more childlike fun.  If you know of someone who battles cystic fibrosis please have them head over to Breath of Heaven and check her out.  She has fourteen years under her belt of first coping and now learning to live with this disease.  And, her journey has been one that has increased her faith, giving her some of the best lessons you can learn.  I'll leave the rest for her to share with you, but it's worth a read.

One last thought, I grew up in a teeny tiny town in western Kentucky on close to seventy-five acres.  My Dad didn't farm by the time I came around but we had the land and it was cherished. But, next door was an older couple named Mamie and Dempsey Dunning.  Dempsey used to wear green Dickies pants and shirt every day.  He sat on his front porch and played his fiddle and sang.  I don't recall if he was any good or not but, what I do remember is how he sang and played with wild abandon.  I also remember how he showed his feelings through that music without regard to what others thought and now I am seeing that that in and of itself was a beautiful thing.  What do you think?

I'm thankful for what God made me to be.  I'm gonna work a little harder to figure out what that is.  I'm proud of my family and thankful for the good and the bad because every bit of those experiences are a tool given for learning.  I'm praying for you guys too.....everyday!

 

Pray For Me

The first thing that our new Pope said after being elected was a request for the people to pray for him.  Prayer is so important.  In the beginning of this madness, I wanted to fix the world for my son, then I wanted to fix him.  I met a priest that told me about how he lived in bars prior to going into the priesthood.  One day his brother asked their mother why she didn't go into the bars and drag him out and let him have it.  She told her son that she had a much better chance of fighting for his brother on her knees than she ever would going after him in the bars.

It was a bigger lesson than I could ever imagine back then.  I began praying by telling God what to do.  Later I learned a lot about myself by paying attention to what and how I prayed.  I began to change my prayer from little requests like help him to do this or that to simply heal him.  I began to understand that all these things that I deemed normal were not necessarily things that would mean healing for my boy.  I started to see and accept that I didn't know what it would take to heal my son. 

Now I am realizing that I need to pray for myself.  I need to be healed.  I need to know how to be a mother who loves unconditionally in the midst of addiction.  I need to love without judgment.  I need to pray for continued awareness.  I need to pray without ceasing. 

Things are different now.  I don't really know if they are good or bad.  I don't know if my son is using or not.  I don't know if he's better or found a new way to manipulate.  And, I just don't know how to stop trying to manage him.  So, I ask for your prayers.  I realize that I am still not minding my own business.  Boy am I a slow learner. 

It's really strange weather here tonight.  It is supposed to drop 50 degrees overnight.  The wind is blowing up to 30 mph.  I've missed reading all of your blogs.  I've been tied up at work but should hopefully get back to a normal schedule.  I also cut my pinkie on a can of pumpkin and had to get six stitches on Christmas eve!  Luckily my best friend is married to an orthopod and so he stitched me up.  It is unbelievable how much you need your pinkie.  Typing has been a nightmare.

Well, our tree is down.  We put it out by the curb for the city to pick up and it has blown all over the place since the wind has picked up.  Hopefully we will get back to some version of normal.  The days get longer.....my favorite time of the year is on it's way.  Praying for us all.

 

That Ah-Ha Moment

In the Homeward Bound class at the jail, we talk about awareness a lot.  Many times as I sit and listen to them talk, I am surprised by how unaware they are of themselves.  I guess, foolishly,  I feel very (quite prideful) aware of who I am.  But then something happens to knock me off my self built pedestal which just shocks the socks off of me.

The Son had visited with the Dad and I and we both felt that things weren't going well.  Since I had a few other family crisis to deal with, it was easy to set it aside.  I took him back to his apartment on Tuesday as usual, my mind raced to all of the things that I typically  say to him and each time a thought would come, I would chant this little mantra in my head: " You will just be wasting breath".

It was a pretty quiet ride back.  But, when I dropped him off, I was pretty proud of myself.  It's quite a feat for me to keep my mouth shut.  I had accepted that nothing I could say would change anything.  But then I got home and the other crisis of the day seemed to reach a resolution and so what did I do?  I know all of you fellow Al Anon friends can guess.  I started to worry.  I started stewing and replaying all of the things that he did and said.

I had worked myself up into a big frenzy.  If you saw me in my home, I'm sure you'd ask, " does she have a history of mental illness?"  Somewhere amidst the begging, God, in his annoyance mercy gave me an understanding.  That's the best way for me to describe it.  But, I had maybe a better understanding and awareness of our situation.  It was almost instantly given and it brought peace.

This is the idea that came to mind.  I remembered when we started the process of selling our home, looking for a new one and going to the bank to get a loan.  Asking my ADD brain to do the work needed to complete those tasks was like asking me to climb Kilimanjaro.  Overwhelming can't even adequately describe my feelings during that time.  The Dad is a details machine.  He is in his element with lists and fine print.  Early in the process I told him that I couldn't do those tasks.  I would organize emptying a home that we had occupied for almost twenty years.  I would have yard sales, make trips to Goodwill, organize all those mementos in the attic, pack and move, but please don't make me deal with banks and relators. 

It was the perfect division of labor.  I still had hard work to do, but, the worry left me because I knew that he would handle it perfectly.  All of the sudden, it occurred to me that this was the same.  I couldn't fix my son.  It was too big for me.  If I could trust my husband to handle a move, why couldn't I trust God with the Son.  Suddenly, I was able to understand the relationship that I needed to have with my higher power.  Comparing it to the relationship with the Dad helped me to see that help is there if only I will take it. 

It's a beautiful Saturday here in Tennessee.  Tomorrow our temperatures will drop to the low seventies.  I'm ready for the air to get cooler.  I'm going to clean my house, finish a little laundry, start a new crafty project, walk the dogs and maybe go watch the Dad ride his horse.  That's all possible because I've handed that over ( at least for now) Ha! 

Feeling grateful but still praying.....

Naivete

Much of the last two years spent with my son the addict, has been  a perpetual state of observation and evaluation.  Is he using?  Is he sober?  If he's sober, is this brain damage?  Is he mentally ill?  Could this be withdraw?  (In Al Anon this would fall under the category of "my life had become unmanageable" in step one.)

Wikipedia defines naivete as the state of being naive;  having or showing a lack of understanding, experience or sophistication, often in a context where one neglects pragmatism in favor of moral idealism.


Huh......

Yep, I guess that about sums it up.

Last Sunday hubby and I drove a little over a hundred miles to a ninety nine acre property that is home to men working the twelve steps of AA.   Our son had been locked up in a psychiatric hospital detoxing for five days and then was taken from there to this property quite literally in the middle of nowhere and had been there for four days when we saw him. 

Guess what??....we saw HIM.  Nine days......and we saw him.  I didn't expect it this soon.  I know....I know....no sermons please.....I know that this is but a baby step on the long road HE has to travel ALONE.

He didn't have a car.  He was laid off from work. He was living in my house.  And, after two years of AlAnon, he was using under my very nose....AGAIN.

Let's review the last part of that definition of naivete...."a lack of understanding, experience or sophistication, often in a context where one NEGLECTS pragmatism in favor of moral idealism."

When we visited with him, we began conversations that will need time to finish and process.  Hubby did say to him a number of times, in response to things he'd say regarding his future, " I know you will figure this out."  You see if he didn't have a car or a job and he was able to do what he was able to do.........he should have no problem figuring out how to dig himself out of this. 

Perhaps there is mental illness or brain damage.....he is still a pretty sharp fellow.  I think the rub will be in channeling that resourcefullness into good.

Hubby and I are learning so much.  We now know that he can NEVER live with us again.  We are too easy. We want so desperately what is not to be, to be......and it's not.  That boat has sailed.  Our son is a drug addict.  He will live this life and die a drug addict.  In active addiction or in recovery....he is still and will always be an addict. 

Those facts don't necessarily make me sad anymore, they are just hard for parents to accept.  It is not of the natural order.  When I saw my son on Sunday, my thoughts were, 'oh wow, look at him......Thanks be to God.....he's still in there." 

But, my thoughts remind me..."don't get too close....this may not last....Drug addiction is my cross to carry.  And, as one of my favorite Dominican sisters says, " pick it up and quit draggin' it for heaven's sake." 

And so I will, with God's help and the strength He provides.  My prayer for today is one of thanksgiving for His closeness during this time.  I am thankful for all of the support we are receiving from family, friends and even strangers.  I pray for the strength to look squarely into the face of addiction leaving idealistic notions aside, and live with the reality of it.  I pray for strength in recovery for my son and yours. And, I say a prayer for Henry.

 

Gossamer Pashminas of Grace

Yesterday was a very low day.  We talked to the counselors at the rehab facility who told us that our son had sunk about as low into his addiction as possible without dying. 

That is a tough blow in and of itself but financially, we are about as low as we've ever been.  Our home is for sale and it has a contract on it.  But, if something happens to stop the sale, we are up a creek quite literally without a paddle.

While I know that throwing money on the situation does not fix the situation, I still want one good opportunity, at least, for him to have a chance at recovery.

I was frozen and feeling numb and quite unsure of what to do when my very artsy fartsy friend said, " just to endure this you have to be swathed in gossamer pashminas of grace."

And, ya know what?  She's right.  Look at this photo:   look at those beautiful hands;   All shapes, sizes, colors, experience, softness,  callouses ............those hands represent protection and prayer, I'm here for you and what can I do.  Those hands started to come to me one by one.  Each one holding onto the next, like trusses in a building, each adding strength.  Until, I feel ......like I'm gonna be okay.  I've got a current of prayer, protection and strength encircling our family.

How did those hands come together?  One friend showed up with a check to loan us the money for almost 60 days rehab.  No questions asked.  More than that, she showed up crying for my son and me.  Another friend offered to fund the remainder of that amount if the house doesn't sell.  A family member is working on getting scholarship money for us.  I've got novenas and other prayers coming from friends and family, 80 Dominican friars, and 6 lovely little inmates at the county jail where I volunteer. 

Those gals also gave me serious pep talks and being recovering addicts themselves, they spent the hour telling me what it is like for the person detoxing and what not to fall for.  They had asked how we found out and I told them about my husband finding him.  I also told them that it was kind of surreal how calm I was this time around.  One of the ladies said to me, " it was because you knew.  Before, you weren't sure.....you were drug testing him....hoping he wasn't but really....you knew."  I think she is right.  They ministered to me.  They are praying for me.

Don't you imagine that God is smiling?   My heart is full.  I may  have a long road ahead, finances may be tight but I am the richest person I know.  Today I am so thankful.  God does provide.....what we need, when we need it.  I am thankful for the gift of friends from every place....my village which I am so thankful and proud to be a part of.  I pray for recovery for our addicted loved ones.  And, as always a prayer for the soul of Henry, my grandpa.
 

Money For Nothin' and Your Chicks For Free.....

My husband is an equine veterinarian.  He has been practicing now for 28 years.  There are times when it has been a very fulfilling career and vocation for him.  Lately, with a slow economy, there has been nastiness of epidemic proportion.

Just today, two clients have threatened to us;  one to use another vet if an after hours charge wasn't removed and one threatened to have a dispute filed with a credit card company over charges another disagreed with.  She also threatened a lawsuit and reporting us to a veterinary medical association.

There really are a lot of nice clients out there but a few make you want to wave the white flag, sell out and move on.  I was thinking just how brilliant the cupcake places are.  You sell one enormous beautiful cupcake for $5.00 and nobody gets pissed off or tells you that the ingredients were not just right.  They don't tell you that because they are so fattening that maybe they'll just pay $3.50.

I was feeling overwhelmed at all of this happening just before noon when my husband said, 'remember son is doing so much better right now; we are doing better; the girls are okay.  I guess that really is all that matters.

Today, I am thankful for a husband that can remind me when life pushes me down.  I am thankful for all of the blessings listed above.  I pray for all of our addicted loved ones to persevere in their fight for freedom from addiction.  And, I say a prayer for Henry.

My New Normal

I met with some friends over the weekend, from high school.  We are planning our 30th high school reunion.  What is it about 30 yrs that seems so old?  They began asking me how my kids are and what they are up to and what I've been up to.......I never know how much to say or where to go with that question.

Today I went to the pool.  I was enjoying the sunshine reading Melody Beattie's newest book, Playing it by Heart.   When I got in the pool to cool off, I ran into a mom that I hadn't seen since my son was in about the fourth or fifth grade.  Her youngest son was in his class.  She too, asked about my kids.  I learned that her youngest just graduated college and is about to start his masters degree. 

She asked what I was up to and I said, "just reading and enjoying the sunshine."  She asked what I was reading and I said , "oh, Melody Beattie's newest book."  She said she didn't know who she was but her friend did.  I finally said, " she writes about addiction and codependency."  This is where there is the awkward silence until she masterfully changes topics. 

I used to have such a heavy heart when these situations arose.  Now, I really don't but I do hate it when others feel awkward and I don't know how much to really get into.  It's just hard to know how to proceed. 

Just how much to do you tell?  How far do you go?  I know it depends on the situation but sometimes, like at the pool, I get into it without meaning to.  This life is my new normal.  But, for others it is not. 

I really like the new book, by the way.  I got a call from my son who pleasantly surprised me by telling me that he had met up with a friend from rehab and had gone to an AA meeting.  It was a good day;  a nice surprise.

Today I am thankful for the growth that doesn't have me feeling sorry for myself.  I am grateful for the wisdom of others.  I am thankful for those who care.  I pray for my son and all of your sons and daughters, husbands and wives or friends, that they may realize God's will for them and have the courage to follow their dreams.  And I say a prayer for Henry.

On Hallowed Ground...

I have always looked for truth.  It's kind of like organization;  it's something to reach for but hard to find, for me, anyways.  I grew up a southern Baptist.  I moved near Lake Erie and went the non denominational route, moved back to the south, thrilled to have my Baptist church back only to realize that no, I couldn't go home again.  Then I tried the Methodist Church which led me home to the Catholic church.

I love my church.  I love the church because it immerses me in the history of Jesus.  I love the rituals that help me to quiet myself enough to hear the whisper of God.  I love the incense,  symbolic of the prayers I pray, breathing the fragrance in allowing it to permeate me before I release it up to the heavens.  I love following the liturgical year, helping me to connect to a path that Jesus might have taken.

With all of that being said, I have great respect for the journey of others.  I think that we all have to follow our own paths to truth.  What I have begun to notice is the "hallowed ground" in this blogging community.  I have realized that the members of this community are those who have seen some of the most difficult things ever.  And, without shame or pretension, they have learned to look beyond.  The members of this "club" have usually been touched to such a degree that there is little judgement, greater compassion, no superficiality, and greater clarity. 

We have all been broken.  Broken to the point that we have let go of pride, unrealistic and unimportant notions of how things "should be" and with some of the crap out of the way see things with a extreme sense of clarity.  This clarity helps us to see the "least of these" with new eyes,  minus all of the labels and lack of hope that I might have had just a few years back.  I think I've found some hallowed ground here and I walk it with great respect and honor for those who walk it with me.

Today I pray a prayer of thanksgiving for the wonderful community that I find myself in.  I pray for our addicted loved ones both active and in recovery and for their families.  And I say a prayer for Henry.

Running a Marathon When I Prefer a Sprint.

Recovery is a marathon.  It's a long term goal; it's like ordering slow foods.  I am a fast food girl.  I like using a microwave and having short term goals.  Long term is very hard for this ADD brain to understand.  But, like it or not, it is a long and arduous process. 

It seems that addiction is this whole problem unto itself but then it leaves in it's wake this snowball effect of problems in it's periphery.  I've read that emotional maturity stops at the point that the addict started using.  So, there is all of this lacking maturity. 

Also I've read more and more about that underlying anxiety that all addicts have and how an inability to attach properly to family is a big factor in whether or not that they start using.  There is no quick fix to this problem.  This requires a day in and day out building of trust and safety to those sensitive people who have chosen to deal with life by using. 

Maybe I know just enough to be dangerous.  But, I sure do notice a difference when I practice love without condition.  Love doesn't have enabling listed anywhere in it's definition.  Love says all the hard things and hears all the hard things without pulling away or using judgement.  I sure wish I'd learned all of this long ago. 

I am thankful this Christmas season.  I will have my son home.  But, things aren't perfect.  I think we all have these crazy expectations.  I think that life may just be this long journey of loving and learning.  I've learned a lot in the past year.  I'm sure I have so much more to learn.  While love to learn, this one has been a little painful. 

Sometimes in the thick of things I get so tired and feel as if we have so far to go.  Then sometimes I look back and see how far we've come.  Today I pray for a positive perspective for all of us.  I pray for continued recovery and strength for our journies.  And I say a prayer for Henry.

Just Breathe......

Today I was finding my to do list longer than my memory....and then someone came into the office and started to describe their escalating stress levels and I realized that I too, was feeling the same.  They mentioned the serenity prayer.  I needed that prayer.......

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things that I cannot change
The courage to change the things that I can
And, the wisdom to know the difference.  Amen


Enough Said.

I keep praying for all of you and Henry too.