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.

 

 

 

 

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. 



 

Happy Monday

I am thankful that the last couple of weeks have passed.  There was a undercurrent of anxiety and stress that seemed to run the show.  The biggest problem was that despite the fact that the Dad and I had come up with some very clear boundaries for the Son, the Dad suddenly needed to change them and didn't really bother to consult me.  I was furious.  Anger is my go to emotion.  It's like there is no pause available after my brain registers that I have been wronged.  There is an instantaneous explosion of anger.  Then, I get a little down and depressed.  Then I work out the emotions that I am feeling.

Eventually, after much prayer for my enemy (the Dad), I was able to see that he is in a different place than I am.  I was able to recognize that since he had not been the kind of Dad that he wanted to be early on, this is something that he needs to do now.  But, I was also able to say, "Look, I can't really watch it anymore so he needs to live in his own space."  The Dad actually thanked me for letting him do his own thing.  Seems so simple now.  But, communication has never been key in our relationship.  Hopefully that will change.

This week is supposed to be glorious.  Last week the weather was as dreary and turbulent as the mood in our home.  Today's high is around seventy-three and sunny....glorious sunshine!  I watched the movie the Joneses on Netflix.  It was really interesting.  I expected only fluff but there was something there which was a nice surprise.

Saturday the Dad and I went to see the C.S. Lewis play the Great Divorce.  It was so good.  It could easily be argued that as he fought with the idea of giving up lust that he could easily interchange that with addiction.  It was very thought provoking.  After the matinee we had dinner and went to a open speaker meeting.  The weekend ended on a good note. 

Today is my Weight Watchers weigh in after a very stressful and not so vigilant week, so we will see.  I'm still not giving up.  That is the variable that has changed this time around.  I think Al Anon has helped change my perception about failure. 

It's been a productive Monday, thus far, so I'd better head off and finish my list.  You can always count on prayers for each of you being on that list.  Hope your week is good.

Gifts of Addiction

I've been asked to chair the next Al Anon meeting.  That means you lead the meeting and choose a topic for discussion.  Sometimes I need to deal with something in particular such as fear.  But other times I thumb through the index and I wait to see what topic jumps out at me.  This week I didn't really have a pressing need to focus on a particular topic so I started to thumb through the index. 

There were several topics that jumped out at me.  I wrote each of the topics down on a piece of paper.  I thought that maybe I'd take some time to see if one topic spoke to me more than the others.  I believe that Al Anon works that way.  God will choose and I will deliver the topic.  I finally looked at my list and instead of looking at each individual item, I looked at the collection as a whole and realized that they were all gifts of addiction.  You might think that they are gifts of a twelve step program or gifts from my faith or gifts from counseling, but really if it hadn't been for the disease of addiction, I would not have sought the changes learned from each of those avenues. 

Addiction has changed me.  Addiction has made me humble, loving, mindful, accepting,  aware, present and grateful.  Addiction has taught me not to be afraid, judgmental, mind other people's business or expect. 

I'm so grateful that I am in process.  I don't think it ever would have happened without addiction.  Maybe it would have, but addiction did happen and I am changing as a result.  Make no mistake, I would never wish this disease on my son.  But, it did happen and I will be grateful for the gifts that were given in the midst of the heartbreak.  I was wondering if any of you all felt the same way.  If so, what one thing really changed about you?

On another note, I have lost 9.6 lbs....as of last Monday.  I will weigh in tomorrow afternoon at 4pm and I feel as though I've lost another 1-2 lbs.  I'll let you know later.  It is a slow process but I am thankful that I am facing a lifelong struggle. 

My niece just had her fourth child!  Her mom was an alcoholic.  I used to say that she was an alcoholic and my brother's drug of choice was her......I didn't know the term co dependent but I knew what it was....even then.  I'm going to go see her and take her dinner and a ODAT or Courage to Change.  I've never asked her as an adult how she dealt with it.  I guess we didn't talk about it much.  I think it's time I asked.  I'm praying for all of you.

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.





 

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!

 

There is No Situation too Difficult to be Bettered.....

I went to my first Al Anon candlelight meeting this year.  It was really lovely. Someone read a special opening and then expressed gratitude for what Al Anon had done to enrich her life.  Then we went around the room taking turns sharing what we had to be grateful for. 

We all shared how our lives had changed since living the program.  One person spoke about how hearing the phrase, "no situation is too difficult to be bettered" which is read in our closing, had been a gift of hope for them early on. 

Others had learned to live a life without constant fear and anxiety in the midst of a loved one's addiction.  A few were shocked at a life that had so radically turned itself around after losing hope just a year before. 

I love Al Anon.  I love my Catholic faith.  Each has sustained me through the battles of addiction.  Al Anon helped me to learn practical ways of living my faith.  It gave me a tremendous support network and taught me a lot about humility. 

Just wanted to share my experience, hope and strength before the year's end.

Three Steps in Three Years

A couple of days ago, the Dad and I received a call from the Son's work.  It was 6pm and the Son was supposed to be at work at 4pm.  He was a no show and they were worried about him.  He had been late for the last two days.  This is the kind of call we all worry about receiving. 

The Dad called one of his friends to see if he knew how to get in touch with him (his phone had run out of minutes).  He hadn't heard from him.  So the Dad decided to drive to the city to try to roust him in his apartment.  Of course our first thought, as many of you can easily guess was, "will we find him alive?"

I didn't go with the Dad.  I calmly said that I just didn't think I could go not knowing what we'd find.  He agreed.  He thought that I should stay home.  Five minutes later the Dad came through the door and said, "he's alive."  His friend managed to find him and he called....... drunk, but he called.

The snowball is starting to roll downhill fast.  And yet, it is sadness that I feel, instead of panic.  All day yesterday I started thinking about the way that I was feeling.  I started to wonder if my heart had grown hard.  The feelings are so different than they were before.  Yes, I am worried.  I know where this is headed.  I know that things will get radically worse before than have any chance of getting better.  But, still I'm not a nervous wreck.  I'm not pasting on a fake smile.  I am a little sad.  I am tired from the ups and downs of this disease.  But anxiety has mostly left the building.

Last night I was to choose the topic for our Al Anon meeting.  I wanted to talk about this most recent experience and so I was trying to get to the root of what had changed.  What had happened to make this frightening experience bearable?  And then I realized that for the first time, I had actually 'made the decision to turn my will and my life over to the care of God as I understand Him.'

Finally, I knew that this madness was out of my control.  Finally, I accepted that God was the only thing that could restore my sanity and finally I decided to allow God to handle this because He knows far better than me.  And, there is peace in this madness.  The anxiety is gone. 

I've been in Al Anon for three years.  There have been a number of times where I've thought that I "had" the first three steps.  But, really it took three years to really get it.  I realize that if I am not careful, I can go right back to insanity.  But for today I am grateful for a loving God who is at the helm.  I am grateful for rest while in His care.  I am grateful for my Al Anon family group. 

Praying always for you and your loved ones.

 

May Be Good, May Be Bad....

There is this Chinese Proverb that I've heard many times.  The first time that I heard it was in a family intensive out patient session.  The story is an important one for families of addicts and alcoholics to understand and more importantly, to accept.  I find myself stressing less and instead looking to each thing that happens with curiosity.  "I wonder what I am to learn from that?"

The Son lost another person he knew from his first rehab.  It was the second person to die in three weeks.  The Dad has a coffee drinking buddy who lost his son to cirrhosis of the liver this week.  We went to the visitation last night and as this older Dad sat and received each of us his soft touch extended beyond taking our hands as he tried to encourage us that our son still had such great hope. 

I misplaced a couple of things of value right after the Son's last visit.  My mind instantly went "there".  I tore apart my closet and other places trying to find the items that I had misplaced.  I was sick.  Even though I knew in my heart that our last visit was the most real of any visit we'd had in a long time, I knew that I had to acknowledge that items were missing and he had been here at the same time. 

So, I accused him and he denied.  I told him that I didn't believe him.  He told me to keep looking for them.  Nothing new.  I was so conflicted, this time.  Our visit seemed so genuine.  And then, I found one item and then the next.  Did I blow it?  Will he open up to me again after what I did?  What am I to learn from all of this? 

Have I mentioned how much I hate this disease?  I'm giving it to God.  I don't know how to restore what I have broken.  I promptly admitted and apologized. But, I hurt his feelings at a time where he was showing vulnerability......exactly what I didn't want to do. 

Time will tell but in the mean time, I praying for Henry and all of you.



 

On the Journey

I've been busy during these holidays but have slowed enough for a quick update.  Son finished 60 days at the 12 step immersion program and is now living at a recovery house.  He looks so good.  I could be wrong but I believe he has had his own "spiritual awakening."  He has a beautiful new attitude and is working the program.  Thanks be to God. 

Daughters are doing well.  We have signed up to run an upcoming half marathon in April.  I am in the least athletic shape of my life.  This is really just a goal to help get into better shape; better health. My real goal is just to commit to the training required to run it.  Then if I can cross the finish line whether I run, walk or crawl, I don't care.

Christmas was lovely.  We were moved.  Travels completed.  Kids were all together.  I had finished all of the shopping and wrapping and was trying to be very cognizant of what I bought each person and why.  And, then I wrote a little piece that I wanted to read to them.  I think I will share it here.  Merry Christmas everyone, (It's still Christmas till Sunday, you know). 

I buy these gifts, keeping in mind, who you each are as individuals, created uniquely by God, and try to look for items, tokens, that will make your life easier or better, or perhaps just bring you joy.  And, I do this because I love you so much and this is a concrete way for me to show you that:  You are loved, You are loved, You are loved, You are loved….in a way that I am able to show you. 

But, sitting in adoration one Saturday, I began to unpack the reasons why I shop/select the items that I do and why I do it.  I was trying so very hard to look at each of you to boil down your real needs and I came to the conclusion that your needs are all the same.  You each need to be loved.  You need the assurance and trust that you are loved. 

You need to know love, from me, so that one day, you can fathom the love that our Father in heaven freely offers.  That is THE gift of Christmas and every day.  The best gift that I can give you is love.  There is no material item that I will ever choose that will substitute your need to be loved.  So, please know that these gifts are not intended to put a price on your value.  They are merely items that will soon be forgotten. 

Our family has been through so much.  We have weathered deaths, illness, storms, financial difficulties, and a world of change.  And, here we are, together.  We are all working to heal in a myriad of ways. 

We are trying to learn to love in such a way that the other knows, feels and understands the depth of the love that Dad and I have for each other and for each of you individually.  We won’t always show you love in beautifully wrapped presents under the tree.  Sometimes we will show you by doing the hard things, saying the unpleasant things and choosing a more difficult path.  We won’t find pleasure in any of it.  But, we will do it because we are learning to love as God did.  He loved us so much that He gave His only son up to death on a cross for us.  That kind of love is hard for us to show, but we are learning that it is the kind of love that cannot be avoided if you are to be happy and healthy. 

Our greatest job is to help you one day find your way to heaven.  As I watch the news, I realize that it is not an easy task.  But,  I pray that each of you can  begin to grow your relationship with Him each and every day.  I hope this for you because when you do, you will discover who God created you to be and when you start that find your way, it will bring the most amazing joy, regardless of any obstacle that might have brought you down before.  That is the gift I would give you if I could.

 

A Little Lost

  Trust is a detachment from control ( my definition...don't quote me).  I'm having a spectacularly difficult time resting in faith, right now.  My house is exactly one week away from closing, if all goes well.  I sit here typing while waiting on the appraiser to arrive; the last item on the list of things to do before closing.  It makes me a nervous wreck.  Tomorrow we have another showing.  Our realtor does not believe in taking chances and will continue to show it until the ink dries.

Son is at his 12 step immersion retreat and the counselor called saying that he was doing well but moving slowly with regard to the first step.  So, now I'm worrying about that.  Why oh why do I do this?  Someone please tell me how to turn this off.

I want so desperately to do things differently this time around.  As I sit here to write, I start to dig out my feelings and I think that I am afraid to accept the possibility that he might not make it.  I am afraid of totally letting him go back into addiction because if he does, I will not be able to afford to put him in a safe place to recover.  I am afraid of this disease taking him completely.  I am afraid to entertain the thought of burying my son.

There it is, my greatest fear.  And some how, my worrying about the fact that he is struggling with the first step leads me straight to the worst possible scenario.  I wonder if parenting a child who suffers from drug addiction counts for time off in purgatory? 

Today is another day in the desert.  I'm so tired of of the mountains of worry here.  I hate addiction.  I hate feeling so lost.  I know that God has been so good.  I know that I could turn all of this around and look at it from the point of gratitude. 

He is in recovery.  Thanks be to God.  There is a contract on the house.  Thanks be to God.  He is struggling with this first step, but he's got ten other young men there to help him ( and they are trying to teach him to ask for help which they say he has trouble with) and maybe this is one big step in changing the way he does business.  Thanks be to God.

Ignatian spirituality teaches us to have "holy indifference" to anything and everything.  That requires a great deal of trust.  The reason I can't trust that much is because I want it to turn out the way I want it.  I don't trust enough to let go of my will, not all of the time anyway.

So, I sit here a little lost and fearful.  I will continue to pray for courage.  I am thankful for this opportunity for recovery for both son and for myself.  I am thankful for the contract on the house.  I am thankful for good friends and family.  I pray for recovery for all of our addicted loved ones.  And, as always one for Henry.

 

Fear is My Enemy

Many experts warn about the dangers of parenting out of fear.  I think there is a lot to that.  The problem is that I have a hard time stopping myself when fear arises.  I start thinking that maybe I am letting something slide instead of confronting it.  I start backsliding with the whole control issues.  I start to panic and so I behave in all sorts of weird ways that confuse the whole family.

I hate living like this but I can't seem to stop myself when he behaves in a way that I don't recognize.....which is most of the time.  It is all new.  He is really doing better than I remember in such a very long time.  You'd think that would put me at ease, but no, it gives me all the more reason to fear the past.

I guess this is where I have not let go of control.  There is where I must face the daily task of detaching.  And, I'm not really all that good at that.  We've gained so much ground.  I am truly over the moon for that.  Some days, I get greedy and forget what I have to be thankful for.  I want normalcy, whatever that is.  Maybe that's what I have and I don't recognize it.  I guess it is my norm.

Today I start a new term of the Homeward Bound program at the jail.  I get to meet the new ladies and start a new AlAnon group with them.  I really look forward to that.  After working for and with the public, it is so refreshing to work with those who are at the place where they know that they have to change.  They are thankful for the opportunity to learn a healthier way.  Working with that mind set is like breathing the sweet air after a springtime rain.

Today, I am thankful for a new fall routine.  I am thankful for sobriety even though each new step is a little scary.  I am thankful that we are really starting to show our house.  I am thankful for my kids and my husband and my friends.  I pray for strength in detaching, continued sobriety and health to all who read.  And, I say a prayer for Henry.

My People

Last night oldest daughter texted her dad to watch a show on the Animal Planet called, "Turtle Man".  Dad flipped the channel as I am trying to fall asleep and a fella is walking barefoot through the murky waters of a pond in hopes of "feeling" a snapping turtle.  Apparently, he's pretty good at this.

Dad texts daughter back asking if he's paying for her cable tv or is she?  She replied, "I am" to which he says, "good."  I guess he doesn't feel that this is an important part of her education.  We continue to listen to this guy who is clearly a character and I say where in the world is this guy from?  Hubby says, probably Louisiana...bayou country.  But, the more I listen I begin to think he not only sounds ( regional dialect) but has characteristics of people from mine and hubby's home (Kentucky).  "He's from Kentucky,"  I finally say.  "No, he's not."  hubby says.  About that time, the show comes back from commercial where they mention that he is from the backwoods of Kentucky!!

The dad is stunned that I figured this out.  He reminds me of Ernest T. Bass if you are an Andy Griffith follower.  Today, son and I spent some time together.  I started telling him about some of my AlAnon friends.  Some of them are characters too.  But, I love them.  I am learning to look beyond the exterior and look within because when you do, you might just see something really neat. 

Turtle Man is really an intuitive sort.  He must really have come to understand animal behavior from a lot of observation.  The fact that he's missing a few teeth and makes an odd noise in celebration of his catch just make for good tv. 

I guess you could say that I recognized "my people".  Not all of them are as flamboyant or backwoods but, they are honest and unafraid of who they are.  There's a lot to be said about that. 

Today, I say a prayer of thanksgiving for healing from our past.  I pray for our addicted loved ones 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.

Snobbery

Have you ever considered yourself a snob?  I have always considered myself a fairly friendly gal.  I felt like I was fairly open minded.  I have been taught that addiction is a family disease.  You will hear me say this over and over again.  This is because it is so astonishing to me.  It isn't JUST the addict that is sick.  The family is sick.  We're sick not just because of the effects of the addicts lifestyle, but because of OUR lifestyle.  Which comes first the chicken or the egg?  I don't know.  We are sick because we have lived inside of the tornado of each other's problems.  We are sick because of fear, insecurity and a lack of acceptance.  We are sick because we don't understand that the only small bit of control we might have is in the control over our own decisions. 

I am a snob.  I realize that today.  It is so very foolish to be a snob.  Part of the denial regarding my son's addiction is that I felt that this couldn't happen to someone who took her kids to church and taught the dangers of drug use.  I couldn't possibly be one of those parents that it happened right under their noses.  I would know.  THEY must not have been paying attention.  Wonder shy you (ME) can have such an elitists' attitudes?  When I first took my son to rehab, I figured that we'd be different somehow than the others.  When I went for the first time to family group at intensive outpatient, I thought I'd be different.  At my first Al-anon meeting, again, this slow learner thought she'd be different.  What a fool I am and why?  Why would I assume that I am different/better?  What could possibly constitute that feeling?  I am a child of God.  So are they.  I was not destined to anything special outside of what God planned for me to do.  I'm not special in the sense that I am automatically, by the grace of God, immune to life's difficulties.  I am not special because I went to college or drive a nice car or go to church.  I am not special because I work hard and hate what drugs and alcohol do to people and their families.  I will only be special if I respond to life's problems in the way God intends for me to. 

The people that I've experienced in this new journey have been wonderful.  They are so very normal everyday kids, adults, moms and dads, husbands and wives and friends.  They are struggling and working very hard to turn things around.  Yes, I've met a few who don't really seem to be honestly making a change, but MOST are in this to win this.  They are people like me, learning how to be stark naked honest because that is the only way to heal.  They are people who are overcoming such huge obstacles and doing it with great grace.  The rehab center my son used, employed only recovering addicts.  This includes all the folks in the financial office, the cafeteria workers, janitors, counselors, nurses and doctors.  Now if that isn't hopeful, I don't know what is.  The leader of my Al-anon group teaches female inmates in the local jail to sew.  The psychiatrist we've started using, was a high school dropout.  Now, she is a medical doctor.  My son knew one friend from high school, one college friend and one person from work in rehab.  He roomed with a young man from his grandfather's hometown over 100 miles away.  This disease lands everywhere and with anyone.  I see that now.

What needs to be seen is that this disease does NOT define them or their families.  None of us are perfect and thinking that we should somehow be is a very defeating attitude to have.  It just can't be done.  I am now trying to understand that my problems are here because I am a normal human being.  The only thing that I am capable of doing is to practice honesty and do the best that I can.  Learning to let go and give God the driver's seat is still a work in progress.....you see as a practicing snob I still trust my ideas over God's.  How sad is that?  I have been a snob.  But, now I see just how silly this is.  I am going to try everyday to open my mind.  Those new folks that I was so sure were different than me, are.  They have inspired me to do better and be better.  Does it really matter if my kids are at the top of their class and are super at sports or getting special honors?  No, I think that today, I'd be so proud if they were the ones quietly teaching the inmates to sew or to read, if they were the ones who connected with those that society looks down their nose at.  This new attitude has got to be a gift that I couldn't have seen had I not been placed in the position that I am in.  I still don't like this journey because it still scares me.  But, if I must travel this road, I am thankful for the gifts of vision and the knowledge that I am gaining along the way.  I am thankful that my son WANTS to live in a half way house to really be able to battle this disease.  That might have been hard for me to say before, but not now.  This means that he is serious.  This means that he wants more for himself.  I want more for him too.  Now, I know that more can't be my definition or society's definition but only God's definition of more. 

Today my prayer is one of thanksgiving for what God has revealed to me in the gift of all the wonderful people that I have met along the way.  It is a prayer for guidance and listening for my son and for the soul of Henry and for all of his descendants affected by the disease of addiction