God Has a Sense of Humor

I walk my little doxie, Lucy, every morning.  The length of our stroll is dependent upon the temperature, humidity and lately a neighbor that I will refer to as 'Mrs. Kravitz'. 

Until last week Mrs. K has only walked on occasion.  And, when she does, you will no doubt learn a lot about her life, who our other neighbors are, what they and their children are doing. 

The last time I lucked into such a meeting, we had just begun our walk and as she started talking my little Lucy did her business.

 Mrs. K said, " now you need to bag that up."

"Since it's an empty lot, I usually wait until I'm on my way home and then bag and grab it.  That way I don't have to carry it all the way through the neighborhood."  I replied.

"If you bag it now, you can lay the bag on the curb, that way you won't forget it, and will see it and can grab it on your way back."  She said.

It's hard to break old habits.  So, I bagged the poop and laid it on the curb, all the while listening to her remind me what a great idea that was.  My twelve step brain was so angry.  Why do I automatically try to please others?  Why didn't I just say, " that's a great way of doing it too" and just continue walking?

I've taken to looking out both doors before leaving and if she is on her walk, I just wait.  How silly is that?  Then one day last week, after I Lucy and I took our walk, I decided to put some day lilies in the ground before I took my shower and guess who was rounding the corner?

Inside, my youngest was having breakfast.  She heard me mumbling about what to do because I really needed to get them planted and get moving to get to a morning appointment. 

"What is going on"?  She asked.

"Oh, Mrs. K is walking and I'm afraid if I plant the lilies now and she stops to talk, I will never get away."  Then an idea came to me.

" Will you do me a favor"?  I asked.

"Sure"  She said.

"If she stops to talk and you see that I just cant get away, will you bring out the phone and tell me that there is a call for me"?  I asked feeling mildly guilty for including her in my deceit.

"Yes, I'll save you"  She chuckled.

I began digging as the guilt made it's way in.  She is probably just lonely, I thought.  How many times over the years have I told people what to do?

  "Lord, please forgive me.  Help me to be kind."  I silently prayed even though I did NOT really want to be kind.

On hands and knees, as I am putting the lily in the ground I hear her voice.  "You make me feel guilty out here planting this early."  She says as she walks up to where I am planting.

"Moooom"  I hear coming from the front door.  Wow, she did not waste a single second.  I just meant to save me if I was trapped.

"The phone is for you."  She said with an enormous smile on her face, all the while trying to give me some secret message by raising her eyebrows and winking at the same time.

"Always busy."  Mrs. K said and headed towards her home.

Daughter whispers, "the phone really is for you." 

We both laughed.  Maybe, if I was willing or perhaps even struggling to do the right thing, then God was willing to give us a little laugh for the morning.  Maybe it was just good luck.  I don't know.

As families in addiction, we sometimes need to focus on these little graces and move our focus so that the day has meaning and purpose instead of the insanity that the disease brings.  I just wanted to share this with you in the hopes that it would brighten your day.

  Praying for Henry.  Mine and yours.





 

The Sky is Falling

An unfamiliar number showed up on the caller ID yesterday on our house phone.  Skeptical, I answered it anyway.  I'm not sure why we keep our home phone other than that number is on every form that I have ever filled out in the last twenty years.  Most calls  coming to that number are either a sales call or a robo call.

The recorded voice began their sales pitch about caring for the needs of the elderly.  They went on to discuss preparations for burial.  I thought to myself, 'they don't do very good research....I'm only 50'.  Then it dawned on me, they did do their research......oh my gosh I am 50!  They want me to prepare for MY FINAL EXPENSES! 

It's a little crazy, I know.  Or maybe, I'm a little crazy....I know that too.  There are days that in my mind, I am still young.  I hear myself saying that I am fifty years old and it shocks even me.  Then there are days when my body feels that I must be close to one hundred long years old. 

My body has been screaming at me to get healthy.  You are probably entering the "too much information zone" but IBS is killing me.  I had been thinking in crazy circles, swinging from maybe I'll give up diet coke to maybe I should call the doctor to 'oh my gosh, I probably have colon cancer.  (It's not pretty, but it's my usual route of thinking.......I've survived a lot of imagined cancer scares, ya'll).

So, while I'm having my morning coffee with Splenda, worrying about the caffeine and artificial sweetener that I can't seem to quit consuming, this segment appears on the Today Show about WHOLE 30. 

The woman who was talking about her experience with whole 30, named EVERY SINGLE SYMPTON that I was having.  Then she mentioned that she had lost fifty pounds and was off of every single medicine.  I was listening.  But, it sounded a lot like one of those Paleo type diets and I am no hunter or gatherer.

Then, I thought about my aunt whose life ended far too soon because of colon cancer.  I felt as if at fifty the bloating, if it continued, would send me into the maternity section of most stores just so that I could fit into something other than sweat pants.  How embarrassing would that be?  I'm getting calls about preparing for burial......I'm a little too far from the bringing new life in stage.

So, I got online and read about it.  This program started by two nutritionist takes you off of several large groups of foods (dairy, legumes, sugar...yes, I consider it a food group) for thirty days.  This gives your gut time to heal and then very slowly you start re-introducing the other groups one at a time to see which group gives you the most trouble. 

Thirty days.....I asked my son for thirty days at rehab.  Actually, he spent sixty.  Why couldn't' I commit thirty days for the sake of my health?  My Al-Anon began to kick in.  I needed to take care of myself.  So I headed to Barnes and Noble and bought the book and am now on Day 4.

Those writers really know their stuff.  They tell you every possible negative thing to expect.  They tell you to stay off the scale for the entire thirty days.  They explain that it takes almost two weeks for the inflammation in your colon to subside which really helped me to realize that it would take time to see this through.

I'm feeling better.  I still have some issues.  But, each day seems a little better.  They predicted that your tastes will adjust.  And since I have had no sugar or sweetener of any kind in four days, I love the taste of water.  How strange is that?  I've always had to force water.

This has always been a big obstacle for me.  But, I feel good and committed trying to commit thirty days to it.  I also want to see my writing project through.  It is another 'big ticket' item on my inventory that I need to see through despite my fears. 

Yesterday at the jail, I showed the movie, "When Love is not Enough"  to the inmates.  It is the Lois Wilson story and it is a really good movie.  I show it once a semester.  Each time, I am able to hear more.  I noticed when Lois was reading the twelve steps, near movie's end, that they are showing scenes of her service with the last three steps.  This is also where she decides to go to Bedford Hills even without Bill because this is what it means to take care of herself.

It is in caring for yourself, that you are able to care for others.  So that is exactly what I'm trying to do.  I'm praying for Henry this morning.....and all of you.



 

Run Run Runaway.....

I've been doing a lot of volunteer work at the jail.  It's something that is both wildly rewarding and quite depressing all at the same time. 

I constantly have this inner turmoil about what my motives are.  Do I think that I am all of that and a bag of chips?  Is that why I am here?  Do I think that I can save them? 

Then I swing to the self deprecating "you are in over your head and a big fool to think that you will make any difference."

There are days when I just want to walk away.

Why can't I just learn to play golf or knit?  Why can't I just find a bungalow out there in some beach town and hide out there for a while.  No phones.  No television.  No interruptions.  Just solitude. 

That is my secret desire.  Perhaps that is running away and not a desire.  Or perhaps my desire is to run away.  I'm good at that.  I've been running from the chaos of addiction for most of my life. 

Praying for all of you and hoping to find the center.....again.





 

Coming Full Circle

I have five brothers and sisters.  And, I have twenty nieces and nephews.  And, fourteen great nieces and nephews.  We are a prolific bunch!  Yesterday I traveled an hour away to see my niece and her newest child, just five days old.  He was so tiny.  This is her fourth child and so I decided to take them dinner instead of a baby gift.  By the time you have four, two boys and two girls, you have it (baby clothes, furniture, tools)  all.  But, you don't have time. 

This niece is my oldest brother's daughter.  While growing up, he was my favorite.  He is seventeen years older than me and he took me everywhere.  He tried ( and failed) to get me into sports.  He read to me, turning me  into a voracious reader.  We lived in a tiny town in Kentucky.  There were no book stores for miles around.  But, we had a library and we lived in the country so  the bookmobile came around every two weeks.  My brother worked on the railroad so when he went to a town where there was a bookstore, he always brought me back books. 

He got married when I was in my early teens and when he and his wife had a baby, I loved hanging out at their house.  It went well for a while but then my sister-in-law's drinking became a wedge between her and every single area of her life.  It was ugly.  We became distant.  Everyone just wanted to steer clear of the insanity that is alcoholism.  I grew up, got married and moved away.  Then my own cloud of addiction entered the picture.  They say that if you don't deal with things in your life, God will continue to give you opportunities to learn from them and so I guess he did.

Yesterday was the first time that I've really talked to my niece.  Oh we've chatted, but yesterday we talked about what was/is real.  And it was such a blessing.  This little girl that I knew is now a grown woman carrying scars from addiction but surviving it.  She is a loving mother, good wife and so diligent in providing for her children, what she did not have.  I am so impressed.  But, I want her to learn to take care of herself and to model that for her children. 

I want to get to know her again.  I want to get to know the others.  Addiction is the big elephant in the family room of my big extended family.  If we all gathered at the same time, we could form our own Al Anon group and probably an AA group as well.  I just think it's time we started to talk to each other. 

In other news, it is the second day of lent and the time changes this weekend.  I can't believe it's spring forward time again.  It's been so  cold that it doesn't seem like it can be that time, already.  Weight Watchers was cancelled due to weather which bummed me out because tracking both food and weight really help me. 

Big Sister got an invitation to interview for a position in a PhD program in Louisiana.  We are going down next weekend for a tour and a day of events followed by her interview.  I think she was shocked by the invitation.  She only expected to be accepted into masters programs. 

The Son is working for his Dad until he gets a new job.  I have a lot of concerns about that.  I really want to be careful that we aren't enabling.  We did need an employee and he had just quit a job but it can be a slippery slope.  Praying you guys.

 

Put Your Money Where Your Mouth is, Sister....

I've read a lot about things that help an addict to heal some of the issues which might fuel their addiction (yes I know there is no cure.....my idea was that this falls under the ".....change the things that you can...." idea...no scolding comments, please).  I've read about attachment and shame.  I work (note present tense) the twelve steps continuously, initially of course in an effort to fix my addicted loved ones.  I have read about the need to examine the hurts of childhood and to grieve them and release them.  And, for the most part, I have accepted that I can only fix me.  To that end, I go to Al Anon.  I pray and meditate, I volunteer at the local jail.  I try to mind my own business....through gritted teeth and white knuckles.

But, if I have the hope that my addicted loved ones will take the necessary steps to find serenity in their lives then perhaps it is time for me to do the same.  Late last year I decided to try to enter a study at Vanderbilt University for diabetics not using insulin.  It was a very interesting study in many ways.  Regardless of which group ( control or study group) I would have randomly been selected for, I would have had supervision from a registered dietitian for six months.  Also during that time, I would have four different occasions where they would give me a stimulant and put me in an MRI and PET scan to flash food pictures at me while they watched my brain activity.  How cool is that? 

I had hoped that this focus on healthy eating would help me get my eating ( my addiction) on a path that would lead to a healthy weight, thus a healthier me.  I was DENIED.  I had been feeling really bad and a little hopeless that this problem would ever change.  The fact is diabetes and weight get harder and harder to manage as time goes by.  I was very down. 

You see I am larger than I have ever been.  My family has begged me to get healthy since the kids were little.  They watched both grandmothers go through the awful process of dialysis as their kidneys failed as a result of diabetes and high blood pressure.  And, in May, I turn the big 5-0!!!  I am on medicine for the diabetes, high blood pressure and my heart.  My eyesight is bad and it is harder and harder for them to prescribe the right glasses when my blood sugar runs high.  I was denied participation in the study because of my heart issues (arrhythmia).

My weight has always been a great source of shame for me.  I have never told my husband a number.  That number stifles me.  It means that I am less than.  It means that I am a loser.  It means that I am lazy and undisciplined.  Does all of that self talk remind you of anything?  Well, it did me and so I thought that if I expected my addicted loved ones to deal with it...already, then maybe I should put my money where my mouth is.

On January 1, 2014, I weighed ten pounds more than I did at nine months pregnant with my son.  There it is.  It's not a number yet, but I'm working up the courage for that.  I started trying to eliminate sweets from my diet.  I started to feel a little lighter but I never weighed.  The last week of January, I joined Weight Watchers.  I had done it before and it worked.  But, until now I knew that I wasn't ready.  I don't know what changed other than the fact that I finally associated step one with my weight and began praying about it, because I did not/do not know how to live day in and day out without eating the southern food that I grew up learning to prepare which always, always ends with dessert. 

After week one, I lost four pounds.  I was very excited and hopeful.  Some days were hard.  Some days I didn't totally comply.  But, this time, it was different because when I slipped, I got back up again.  Week two I started and I continued slipping day after day.  I felt pretty bad about the week as a whole.  I had tried as we often do, to make it work the way I wanted it to, plus Super Bowl Sunday was bad no matter how healthy I tried to make it.  I wanted to skip my weigh in.  I did not want to go and face those ladies.  But this time I realized that what I dreaded so intensely is exactly what alcoholics and addicts faced all of the time.  So I went and I weighed in and I gained .8 pound.  And, when I came home, I told my family directly instead of hiding in shame and guilt.

I'm going back too.  I'm trying again, today.  That's what I expect of them.  This morning when I stepped on the scales, I realized that since January 1, I am at my nine month pregnancy weight with my son again.  I'm not the largest anymore.  I'm not as ashamed telling anymore.  People understand.  They relate.  How foolish we can all be my friends.  Welcome to my journey.  You are a safe group to be vulnerable with.

I am happy to report that my little friend from Homeward Bound went to court, paid her fine and has that behind her.  And, when she asked me how she could get a job when she couldn't drive to work, I told her to ask around in her meetings.  I told her that many, many people start out without cars and rely on those who have started out just like she is.  The pre Al Anon me would have looked up job listings, worked out a schedule to pick her up and made my life a living resentful nightmare. 

Happy and Praying....for all of you and your loved ones.





 

Southern Festival of Books

  I spent a couple of days at the Southern Festival of Books this weekend.  I'd always wanted to go but had never made time for it or really knew what all it offered.  Now that I know how it works, I'm afraid that I will be there every year buying too many books, as usual. 

Yesterday, I heard only one author speak, Rick Bragg.  He was such an entertaining feller, as my Dad would have said.  He writes a monthly essay which can be found in the back of Southern Living magazine.  It is usually an observation of some aspect of a life lived while growing up in the south.  He is a Pulitzer prize winning journalist for the NY Times and the author of six books, all non fiction.  His memoir, All Over but the Shoutin'  is the story of his mother's sacrifice to raise three boys alone after their abusive, alcoholic husband and father  abandoned them. 

I got there a little early and saw him as I was heading in to listen to him speak in a fair sized auditorium.  He spoke to me and looked me in the eye as if maybe I was someone that he knew and couldn't remember. 

Afterwards he signed books.  I got in a very long line and waited while he took time to listen to each person who came up with a book to be signed, who shared a bit of themselves with him, telling him why his book meant so much to each of them.  Many asked for writing advice and most wanted their picture made with him.  When I got up there I wasn't sure what to say but I said, "my grandfather was an alcoholic and it deeply affected my dad and my son suffers with drug and alcohol addiction...."  "Well, then you know these people,"he said while tapping his finger on the pages of his book.  "Yes, I do."  I said. 

And, I thought that maybe I know him too.  And, it occurred to me that he looked me in the eye, not because I was someone that he thought he knew, but that when you know the faces of those in the margins, you make it a point to make sure that you really look at them and others.  When you've loved a person that society discounts, whether you've been angry with them or not, whether they've made their amends or not, you still realize that they are a person. You are careful to look at others knowing that they have a story too.

Maybe I read too much into it.  Maybe not.  His book is really an interesting story.  It is a picture of addiction and poverty which often walk hand in hand. It is an account of a Mama feeling guilty for the way things turned out....  a portrait of the south in all of it's good and bad parts.  It did sound familiar.

Today is one of the last days in the eighties, at least this week.  It seems like summer never ends and then winter just hits.  I did buy books as Christmas gifts.  It was a lot of fun.  I'm learning to enjoy myself....Praying today for all of our loved ones. 

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.....

Me Me Me.....

Pushing control on others suggests that I think that my way is the best or only way.  It suggests that I think that I am superior.  I find myself, like a dog with a bone, unwilling to let go of my way of doing business.  Controlling behavior has been described as fearful behavior.  But, it still suggests that because I am fearful, I only trust my way of doing things.  This seems terribly wrong once you really think about it.  But, to the public at large, it might seem as though the mother of an addict, knowing his previous behavior, is being a selfless person.

In the twelve step program, we learn that we are as sick as the addict as we have stopped living our own lives and decided we can "fix" the lives of others (also very egotistical).  We are taught to detach from the addicts behavior so that we can figure out who we are and what God's will is for us and try to live that life. This idea to many of us seems very selfish in the beginning, especially those of us who are mothers. 

It seems to me that when I think I'm being selfless, by focusing on the problems of my family, I might just be selfish.  And, when I think I'm being selfish, I'm really focusing in a way that takes care of myself and my family in the way God intended. 

Could I have distorted this because of what others think?  I think probably so.   I pray a prayer of thanksgiving for this insight.  I am thankful for progress in this journey.  I ask for help in using this new knowledge.  I pray that God helps me to do ONLY what he wants without worrying about what others think (pride) and I say a prayer for Henry.