Draw What You See

Sirens racing past.  Two police cars, another unmarked and one ambulance.  I'm picking up dinner as I see them pass, wondering what could be going on in our small town.  The ten o'clock news reveals that there is a hostage situation at our county jail.  It is the same county jail that I have volunteered at for the last five years.  It is where I will be in just a few short hours.

A local detective who has worked closely with animal control has been placed on administrative leave without pay, pending investigation of misconduct.  My husband has worked with him for years.  He has always respected him. 

In high school, I took an art class.  I wanted desperately to be an artist.  But, I could not draw.  I was a serious coloring book aficionado, growing up.  But, drawing left me frustrated.  In our very first class, the teacher gave us each a huge sketching pad and pencil, placed an object in the front of the room and said, "draw what you see." 

That was it.  As she walked around the room, I stopped her and said, "I just can't seem to do this."  She looked at me and smiled, "draw what you see."  And that is all that I got for the rest of the year.

It wasn't until I began to write and I was told, "Don't tell me, show me", that I started to understand my problem.  As I began to put on paper what I actually saw, separating it from the way that I felt, I realized how often I saw with my head instead of my eyes. 

What do I actually see?  How has my perception colored what is?

A friend posted her son's " one second movie" on Facebook.  There is an app where you record one second each day for a year and then it creates a movie from your collection of one second videos.  It was so interesting that I decided to buy the app and make my own movie.  My friend's son is a professional; not only was his movie very good, he made it look easy.

He pointed out that this app, helped him to look for the good in each day.  It's true.  I am more observant.  I am always on guard for that moment--a second that is worthy of interest. But, for me, it also helped me to see that a random moment probably isn't so random.

And, perhaps I am learning that what I see has many more layers.  And, separating what I see from what I feel has tremendous value.  Maybe that is why I write.  Maybe seeing with my head and my heart are just as important to the story.  Maybe that is why I have so many questions. 

As the mother of a recovering addict and alcoholic, staying in each moment and realizing that I can't "see" beyond what is within the scope of my vision or the confines of my heart and mind has given me tremendous freedom.  It also helps me to be responsible with my moments--my seconds of each day that all too often, I tend to take for granted.

This post may be a bit random.  But, sometimes these seemingly arbitrary moments won't leave my thoughts.   When that happens, I usually know that there must be a nugget of value in them.  Why did my mind tie advice from a high school teacher to yesterday's news and a friend's FB post? 

To me this is fascinating.  It is a part of why I love to write.  I hope that you will capture what is special about your day and unearth what the moment has for you to learn.

Feeling grateful for the lessons learned in recovery and this community.  I'll take time today to pray for Henry--yours and mine.





 

Listen and Learn

Trapped. 

That is how I felt.  For the last eight weeks, I have had to fill in at my husband's office.  It is a forty-four hour work week, unless I don't finish the jobs that I normally do when we have another employee in the office or an emergency comes in.  Then it could easily stretch to a fifty hour work week.

Endlessly the phone rings to schedule appointments, ask for advice, give updates on their horses health or sometimes to complain about a bill.  Clients come in to pick up medications and love to talk without realizing that there is still lab work to get ready for pick up or shipments to unpack because someone is waiting on a medication.  I used to handle the stress far better.

My husband and I have been doing this for over twenty years and I am weary from it.  It is his passion, not mine.  But, it is our bread and butter.  I am grateful.  I'm just very tired and very burned out.

I had to take over at the office one week before I went to New Jersey to pitch a book that I have been working on for quite some time.  At first, I panicked.  Then I realized that I had given this outcome to God and so whatever was supposed to happen would.

In the midst of this heavy workload, my son decided to seek sobriety.  He decided.  There is such gratitude and a lot of trepidation. 

Be careful. 

Don't expect. 

Just be.

Breathe.

Then, I realize that for a few weeks, all three adult children will live with us.  There is more laundry.  There is less food.  The house is a big mess.  I find myself tensing up. 

On a Tuesday evening, after a nine hour day at work, cooking supper and running a load of clothes, I wanted nothing more than to put on my jammies and fall asleep on the couch to some mindless  television program. 

But, I have the key to the church where our Al-Anon meeting is held.  I knew that the others who have keys would not be there that night.  I'd like to say that I knew that I needed a meeting, but I was too tired to care.  I felt obligated.  So, gripping and complaining, I went.

The chairperson for the evening's meeting said that I had 'voluntold' her to chair the meeting.  I think that is how I got my service position.  It was either that or I didn't show up and so I was nominated and voted in.  I'm glad that she chaired because she did a marvelous job and it was just the meeting that I needed. 

Her topic was on the slogans.  She took all of the slogans that she could find from our conference approved literature (CAL), typed them up,cut them into strips, folded and put in a basket.  She asked for us each take a turn to choose a strip, look in the index of our book and find a reading on that topic and then read the reading and tell the group, how that topic applied to our day.

As always, there are no mistakes.  God always seems to choose just what we need.  I think he told me to 'shut up and listen, dad gummit.'  No, he told me to 'listen and learn.'  Boy, oh boy is that exactly what I need.

I kept my slip of paper.  I am using it as a book mark. 

I'm glad I spent those eight weeks at the clinic.  I was able to clean up a lot of things that needed dealing with.  I was able to find a smart young girl who is happy to work there. 

My son decided to get sober, dealt with some things he needed to deal with and has chosen sober living.  He chose. 

My daughters and I have spent some time talking through some hard things that needed dealing with.

My husband and I are working through things we've needed to deal with for a long time. 

Before, I would have felt very sorry for myself.  I still did at first. 

But, then I decided to 'listen'--what am I being told to look at,  in this situation?  And, 'learn' --how am I to respond in a way that I am being led?

Like those who suffer from addictions, I too, don't really like to deal with things.  I'm learning.  It is hopeful.  My HP does a pretty good job, if I will let Him. 

I'm grateful to have my time at home again.  Lucy, my doxie is too.  We take our walks each morning.  She is careful to sniff and see who has been on "her walk".  She tells the big dogs in the neighborhood to, "Back off" when they bark at us.  And we are both grateful for our time of prayer and meditation.  Her snoring is somehow soothing as I pray.

I may have been gone, but, I did not stop 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.



 

Examen

In the happy wagging tail of one long backed Lucy.
In the evening summer sounds of crickets and frogs.
In the sudden direction previously not seen.
In the despair at starting over.
In the prayers said by family members.

God is Present.

For healing and growth in our family.
For help when I cry out.
For strength when weary.
For a way, when none is seen.
For acceptance.
For Love.

I am grateful to God.

Fear.
Depression.
Quiet Acceptance.
Hope.

The feelings God gives me today.

Heavenly Father,

Please empty me of all that is not from you.  Fill me with strength, direction and love.  Give me the wisdom to see and hear your will for me this day and give me what I need to carry that out.

In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.  Amen

Tomorrow.

The possibilities are endless if only I listen to the desires that God has placed within me.  There is hope in tomorrow.  There is love waiting tomorrow.

This is an example of a five step Examen used in Ignatian Spirituality.  Our wonderful Pope Francis is a Jesuit (the group who follows the example of St. Ignatius).


Ignatian Spirituality is about developing a better relationship with God through converser (Prayer).  This is a helpful link on his ideas about prayer.

 

Contemplation

I turned fifty on Tuesday.  I've been thinking about this new decade with hope.  Ever since I turned forty-nine my focus has been on fifty.  You could argue that I'm not really living in the present....and be right.  But, for me I need to look back and examine so that I can look forward with clarity and possibly understand what it is that I really want out of what's left of this life.

In the early days of dealing with my son's addiction, I held on to the past (i.e. what I did and didn't do) with a death grip.  I'm not sure why.  I guess I wanted to know why he was an addict.  I figured if I knew why then I could fix it. 

I've been on a long search trying to understand.  "I've been to at least one hundred thousand Al Anon meetings", as Father Tom Weston SJ would say.  I've been to many Saturday night open AA speaker meetings.  I've taken some weekend Ignatian retreats to better understand the Spiritual Exercises.  I volunteer at the jail in the Homeward Bound program.  And, I've bought many books.  If I laid down all of the books that I've bought in the last few years and put them end to end they would extend from my home in Tennessee to........Never mind......that is probably not information that the Dad or I want to look at too closely.

I've been looking for truth.  Like the apostle Thomas, I am looking for direction.  "I am the way and the truth and the life." Jesus said in John 14 :6.  When my Son went to his second stint in rehab the counselor met with us on family weekend.  "He's really honest.  But, he's not very truthful."  He said.

What a strange thing to say. The Dad and I looked at one another puzzled.  This counselor, this recovering addict would teach us a lot about life.  I was asked to teach a class in the jail called Moral Reconation Therapy.    I didn't really want to teach the class.  I didn't even know what the word reconation meant.  The class taught me and the students to stop making decisions based on pleasure or pain and to start making decisions on moral reasoning or right and wrong. 

Truth is what is real.  Period.  Honesty, simply put, is our perception of truth.  Growing up, if you hear that you are lazy enough, it becomes what you believe about yourself.  But, is it truth? 

I write in an effort to mine for truth.  I look back at my family looking for what is real...not what I've always heard.  There is a lot of alcoholism and addiction in my family.  What does that mean?  What does that say about me?  Does that mean that my son is doomed to live his life out in active addiction?

I've learned so much.  I am really no different than the alcoholic or addict.  At the root of it all, we all feel uncomfortable with who we are or what we think that we are.  We've been listening to those voices whether from within or without telling us that we are not enough. 

Those voices that say, "You should be ashamed of yourself."

Those voices saying, "It's your fault."

Those voices that tell you to be afraid.....every waking moment of every day.

The difference between them and me......I can have a drink and think, "no I'd rather save those calories for chocolate."  They can't.  I have diabetes and when my blood sugar drops, my hands shake and I start sweating and my body aches for sugar.  I told my endocrinologist, " I think my drug of choice is sugar."  He said, "Yes, diabetes acts very much like addiction.  You get low and crave sugar.  You eat the sugar and you feel sick again and it starts over and over again.  You can't live with it and you can't live without it.

I get that analogy.  My son has a disease just as my ancestors have.  Disease is hard to live with, no matter what the disease.  Disease, regardless of the kind  affects the whole family.  But, with addiction, nobody wants to talk about it. 

I do.

I want to respect the privacy of my son.  But, I will not let fear or shame keep me sick.  I'm not ashamed of the addict or alcoholic.  I hope one day they will find their way past fear and shame. 



But, until then, I will pray. 

For them. 
For you. 
And for Henry. 



 

Ramblings

I'm thinking of moving my blog to wordpress.  I'm not certain, but I think I need a fresh look and a fresh start.  I guess I'm having a mid (actually 2/3) life crisis/awakening......  There are just sixty-four days left till I turn FIFTY.  I can't believe it.  I don't feel fifty.  In my mind, I am still young.  Maybe I'm in my late twenties, early thirties max.  But, then I look in the mirror and holy crap, there is a middle aged woman staring back at me.  I went to my hometown this weekend for a bridal shower and  I ran into a few people that I knew from high school and they were old people.  How did this happen?

I'm going to weigh in today.  We missed last week because the meeting was cancelled for snow.  Today the temperature should reach seventy.  Welcome to middle Tennessee weather.  I'm always a little nervous about the weigh in, even though I weigh at home every twelve hours day.   I know I've passed ten pounds as two weeks ago I was at 9.4 lbs.  Just like my dad, who used to will winter away, I am willing the pounds to melt.  And, yes acceptance is something I'm still working on, thank you very much.

Lastly, I'm writing a book.  I've been thinking of doing it for three years.  At first, I wanted to write with some friends.  But, I had enough problems trying to figure out my own part, much less knowing how to coordinate it and organize it with another.  I've never really given up on it.  Maybe, it will be only for my family.  Maybe it will get published.  Whatever will be, will be.  But, these things I decided to do and follow through with in this my fiftieth year. 

I watched Oprah last night.  I watched the first episode of Lindsay (Lindsay Lohan documentary) and her interview with Russell Brandt.  I'm so glad that she (Oprah) is giving attention to the epidemic problem of addiction.  I'm really rooting for Lindsay but how many of you moms out there wanted to swoop in there and clean her hotel room and tell her that she needed to divest herself of all of that STUFF?  Maybe it's just me, but I also wanted to say, "go buy yourself a little cottage in the country or by the ocean......how can you possibly get clear in the noise of the city and with paparazzi?" 

Yes, I still go to Al Anon (regarding previous paragraphs).  But, I think I have such good ideas......Loving the sunshine today!  Hang in there my friends, spring is on it's way.  Praying for you all.
 

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!

 

Shame

I've been training at the Dad's office for a month or so and then two weeks ago my brother went into the hospital near me for a surgery so I have been with him at least once a day.  Today is a gorgeous sunny day in the mid fifties and I am home and able to work on my own projects.  But, this newfound freedom leaves me a little lost as to what to do first....

I've been doing a lot of reading on shame.  I started teaching a class on making moral decisions at the jail.  I had no training so I went to the internet to look for some teaching ideas.  The only thing I found was a class which was very expensive to take.  Instead, I looked at some of the references that were used in writing that book/class and read them.

One of the books I am reading is John Bradshaw's Healing the Shame that Binds You.  It is a fascinating book that left me feeling.....ashamed.  No kidding, I started feeling dark and depressed realizing all of the ways that I had shamed my children without even realizing it.  Especially when he mentions not once or twice but many many many times that toxic shame is the root cause of all addictions. 

There is good news though.  There are things that can turn the boat around so to speak.  And, twelve step programs are one of the best tools used in healing the shame that binds us.  Awareness of the shame that we've carried from one generation to the next is another.  It is a fascinating book that I have to take in small pieces.  I was wondering if any of you had any thoughts on shame or had done any reading on the subject.

I'm going to turn 50 in May.  It is a big milestone.  One that I am going to try and greet a bit healthier than I am right now.  This afternoon I will go to Weight Watchers for the first time since my kids were little.  I need accountability. 

My oldest daughter graduated from college in December with two degrees.  She is applying for graduate school in the fall but in the time being she is a veterinary assistant at a small animal clinic near her apartment.  My youngest daughter is in nursing school.  She is going into the hospitals this semester for the first time.  She is very excited.  And the son.....how is he?  I only know that he has maintained a job for a year.  He bought a $500.00 car that actually runs.  He seems clear.  But, he is in God's hands and I try not to know too much or I get in the way. 

Oh my, this life seems to be running by so fast.  I'm learning some pretty important lessons and much of the time it feels as if it's a day late and a dollar short.  Hopefully I will use these lessons in a way that will be of service to others.  In the mean time I'm praying for all of you facing life in the midst of addiction.

Hell on Earth

The terrible news coming out of Connecticut is terribly mind boggling.  It is impossible for anyone to understand why a person would ever consider harming such a young child.  It is an unfathomable act.  Insanity is not something easily made sense of. 

Another minor story that I heard on the news is the one about Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen's insane notion of fashion.  This backpack is made from alligator skin and many animal rights folks are not happy.  But, look closer;  it is adorned with prescription pill "ornaments".  And, it's cost is $55,000. 

Am I the only person that finds this not only offensive but threatening?  Why should anyone endorse this as fashion?  To all those kids who might somehow see these girls as role models, what does this bag say to them about prescription drug abuse or misuse? 

Is this another way that someone has decided to attack our kids?  I'm beginning to feel as if we are living in hell on this earth.  How can we, as parents or just a concerned person, stand up against something like this?  For me, I can only point it out to others.  I can call it what it is.  This is an attack, maybe not the quick pointed attack that occurred in Connecticut but the slow subtle sort of thing that after a while begins to take away the shock until it becomes accepted.  Glamorizing something that kills and destroys families is not okay, ever. 

Son leaves the 12 step retreat on Christmas Eve and moves into a recovery house.  He has requested the Dad to pick him up.  I am very pleased.  This is healing.  I'm sure that fear will try to sneak up on us from time to time.  I heard a quote and I don't remember who said it or the exact words but basically said that if you have fear you have no room for faith and if you have faith there is no room for fear. 

Today I am thankful for this new place in life.  I am thankful that our home sold, we're all moved in to a new apartment, son has completed a program and is moving into a recovery house, the girls are doing really well and that we are turning our lives into a new direction.  I pray for all of those suffering in Connecticut, including the shooter's family.  I pray for those suffering from the disease of addiction and any mental illness.  And, I say a prayer for Henry.


 

Building Back.....

My Dad, the son of Henry, the alcoholic, died in 2002.  He fathered six children and left no debt and a little money to each of us.  When I got my money, I felt so guilty.  He had to fight so hard to even make it through the eighth grade.  He worked to feed his family since he was a young boy.  He left for  Europe during WW2 when he turned eighteen, and spent 2 years and 8 months there.  He worked very hard to make my life always feel safe.  And, he did.  I feel unworthy of the money he left.

A little over two years ago when we first realized my son suffered from drug and alcohol addiction, I offered up to God (like I had the power) any and all of my worldly goods if he would just save my son.  I don't think you can really bargain with God.  But, we are selling our home and divesting ourselves of a lot material possessions.

The idea of moving from our home of 18 years was a little sad for me at first.  Now, you can't get me out of here fast enough.  After the last round with son, this place feels more like a crime scene than a home.  Nonetheless, I have been feeling a little sad.  And, I could not figure out why.

On Saturday, we took a load of furniture to my hometown, to my sister's garage to store.  Oddly enough, she lives in my parents old house.  One of the items that I chose to keep was a bookcase that I bought with the money from my father's estate.  I just couldn't sell it.  I must admit that it was a little humbling to return there with some of my last worldly goods. 

Yesterday, hubby moved his horse to a boarding stable.  I dreaded it so much because this home and this farm was his dream, not mine.  I feared that it would be very difficult for him.  I saw a little pain on his face and a little sadness in his eyes, but, like me, we have learned what things are of value.


There are so many emotions swirling around in my head.  I'm not really sure how to sort them.  But, the one thing that kept entering my mind was the verse from Genesis 3:19:

By the sweat of your face You will eat bread, Till you return to the ground, Because from it you were taken; For you are dust, And to dust you shall return."

Now, I know that I am not dying.....but perhaps there is a death occurring, one which involves a way of life.  The old unhealthy way that we have been living...maybe that is what we are dying to and it is becoming visible in my mind. 

After a very loaded day of emptying, son called.  He sounded so very good and clear.  Daughter came home and commented on how good Dad and I seemed together.  This is how I choose to build back my home.  Thanks be to God.

Today, I am thankful for this insight.  I am thankful for the opportunity for my son.  I am thankful for starting over.  I am thankful for all of the bloggers out there who pray.  I pray for all of our sons and daughters and I say a prayer for Henry.




 

Discernment

I've traveled to Dallas to a writer's conference.  I am considering writing a book on my journey through my son's addiction.  There are days where I feel like I have to write this story.  Then, there are days that I think, who do you think you are to write this book?  There is the fear factor that is present because I have never published a book before.  There is also the fear of publishing such a personal account of our life.

Last night, I was channel surfing.  The lack of quality on TV is astounding.  Let's just say that when I become intimidated by writing, all I have to do is look at Toddler's in Tiaras or Honey Boo Boo.....

I've learned a lot here.  I've learned that I will really need to get organized, which does not come naturally to me.  And, I will need to get clear about the message that I want to convey.  But, most importantly, I only need to write if this is God's will.  So, I will proceed with prayer before I take any further action.

The most important thing is my son's sobriety.  What I have learned in this journey, is first and foremost for that purpose.  So I will pray for wisdom.  I pray for all of our loved ones who have felt the ravages of the disease of addiction.  And, I say a prayer for Henry.

The Long and Winding Road

We are at the stage of the game that leads to really good places and really tough places.  We have uncovered so much that was hidden by the anesthesia of drug addiction each day and even though the addiction is "in remission"??  we have other battles ahead.  Anxiety is a big problem.  Getting help for someone who is afraid of taking medication is problematic.  

I have so much to be thankful for but this long and winding road has really begun to wear on me both physically and emotionally.  I feel good about my decisions and then an hour later I question.  I'm really tired.  I don't know how to proceed.  

Today, I say a prayer of thanksgiving that we are dealing with the issues underneath the addiction.  I pray for guidance and strength.  And, I say a prayer for Henry.

Closet Cleaning

When you learn of a loved one's addiction, and you are able to get them help, you feel as though you've done all of the hard work.  And, while the immediate danger has been addressed, there is a myriad of reasons why you have arrived at this place and why you are living in this place.

 For me, this is like closet cleaning.  If my house is ever to get in any sort of order, my closets need to be cleaned.  This is so that things have a place to be put away, thus giving my house less clutter.  So, now that we've addressed (finally) the disease of addiction, we must deal with the environment in which it grew and was sustained.

We are pulling all of those toxic behaviors and lifestyles out of the closet, sorting them from the good habits that we'd like to keep and put neatly back in the closet.  But, the house is a mess, until the sorting and rearranging are complete.

My son....oh my son....I am so proud of him.  He is working so hard at this job/apprenticeship.  He loves it.  He feels worthy and needed.  We need to hang on to those things.  He is beginning to feel pride in himself again.  We must keep that.  He is starting to want to visit with extended family now that he has something to share with them.  That is a valuable treasure to keep.  These things make him want to keep getting up, on his own, at 3:30am to get ready for this job.  I think this new sense of responsibility makes him feel better each day about the man he is becoming.

Now, we must rid the closet of the rubbish.  Half of that task is figuring out what is trash vs what is treasure.  When I am literally cleaning a closet I have a rule of thumb; if I haven't used it in 1-2 yrs it goes.  So, a rule of thumb for this closet has to be; does it help bring my family member to the will of God?  If not, it goes.  Pride was the first thing to go.  Viewing life from the vantage point of the world...must go.  Love....really loving on every level must stay and be fostered.  Status...get out!! 

My house is a mess as we go through this difficult process; but I think it is progress.  Right now, I feel like I suffer from battle fatigue.  I am so tired.  I know things are getting better but I just dream about a little instant relief.  It doesn't work that way though. 

When I look back on what I just wrote, I feel guilt.  One year ago today, my life was spiraling out of control.  So, I will hold that picture in my mind.  Today I am thankful...so thankful for my son's new found hope.  I am thankful that we are almost a year into cleaning things up.  I pray for strength and perseverance for this journey.  I pray for all of you who are traveling this journey alongside me.  And, I pray for the soul of Henry.