The Work

~ Patti ~ Leave a comment

“Step 1: Admitted that we were powerless over alcohol and that our lives were unmanageable.”   I had hit such a bottom that admitting “I’m powerless over alcohol” wasn’t a problem.   Alcohol had disabled me in such a way that I could no longer manage my marriage, my relationships with extended family, friends or my kids.  I couldn’t manage keeping the house clean.  If I had a job at that point in my life it’s safe to say that I wouldn’t have been able to manage that either.  My drinking had taken over everything I loved and had created this monster inside of me.  I had thought the whole world was out to get me and that no one understood who I was or what I was going through and I was getting a bad rap.  I was a self-proclaimed victim.  My life was unmanageable.

When we first get sober and the steps are new we sometimes revel in the new information and wonder why we couldn’t see it before.  I realized working steps 4 and 5 that I had created my own hell, so then it made sense that I could create my own heaven.  I set out to create the life that I wanted and after a decade achieved all that I had set out to do.  Sometimes I forget the years of hell.  Sometimes I forget I was a drunk.  Sometimes I forget I’m an alcoholic and I forget about my program of recovery.

Gradually, life happens and I become irritated at work, I’m irritated with my grandchildren, I’m trying to control my children and the things I want to achieve look like they’re never going to happen.  I gradually put myself back into the victims chair and begin to feel sorry for myself because that is my nature.  When feeling sorry for myself becomes too painful I wake up out of the daze I’m in and go back to the basics.  First I start keeping a gratitude journal and go back to Step 1.  I am powerless.  My job is to do the footwork.  The results are up to my higher power.  Trying to get the results on my own gives me chronic anxiety, so I need to turn it over to the universe and its eternal wisdom.

What I learned in the program is to suit up and show up.  When you do that, the results eventually come “sometimes quickly sometimes slowly.  They always materialize if we work for them.”  It’s true of the promises.  It’s true of everything else in life, but the vision must be clear or we forget and stop working.

Our 12 step program gave us the vision of the promises of living “happy, joyous and free” and gave us a road map to attain it.  The key for me was to give up control of the whens and hows of life.  I start with gratitude for what I have and a clear picture of what I want.  Then I do the next right thing, the work.  I’ve found when I take the first step the next step is revealed, so I let my higher power dictate the hows.  And “I came to believe that God could restore me to sanity.”  Sanity is knowing that it will all work out without having the chronic anxiety and fear that it won’t.

Just for today I will turn my will and my life over to the care of God as I understand him knowing that when I do the work, the achievement is imminent.

Respect

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I was sick again this weekend.  Somehow the flu turned into a cold and then pneumonia.  I spent all weekend in bed and by Sunday I was kind of lonely.  My husband spent the whole day outside doing yard work.  By the time he came in the house I was more than a little irritated with him because I thought he ought to spend some of that time with me.  I didn’t say anything.

I’ve learned through working the 12 steps and by being married once before that I tend to want to control the show.  I want to be the director and the actors.  I want to be in charge of sets and lights and I want to write the script.  I’ve learned to stop myself when I want to decide how someone else should live or spend their day.  I’ve learned how to stop myself when I want to decide how another person should show their love for me.  My natural character would have said, “Don’t you care about me?  I’m sick.  Aren’t you going to spend any time with me?”  I would have announced that he didn’t love me and the worst part is I would have believed it.

Working step four has taught me what my part was in the downfall of my first marriage.  I discovered that he wasn’t to blame for everything.  I had plenty of character defects myself.   I think what I know about relationships now that I didn’t before is the element of respect.  Today I respect my husband’s schedule and I respect the work he feels he needs to complete.  I respect his feelings.  The best part is he respects the same of me.

We are partners.  One person doesn’t get to make all of the decisions.  Relationships usually end up in some kind of power struggle and eventually fail causing the divorce rate to be as high as 50%.  If my relationship fails I normally end up in some kind of addictive behavior.  To prevent that I choose wisely and after I choose I allow him to be who he is.

When he finally did come in the house, the first thing he said was, “Do you want to watch a movie?”  It was one of the best times that we had spent together for a couple of weeks.  Had I nagged or cajoled or hollered or manipulated neither one of us would have had a good evening.

Today I respect people enough to accept no for an answer and respect them enough not to have expectations on how they should behave or act toward me.  That doesn’t mean I allow them to abuse me which is a different subject.

If I were to define respect I would say it’s a quality that allows people to be who they are without expectations of whom they should be.  Respect is accepting people for who they are.

It’s something I have to practice every day.  I don’t respect others perfectly but I’m glad I did Sunday.

Just for today I will respect those I come in contact with.

Forgiving Myself

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Once the fog lifted enough that I realized how much I hurt other people, it wasn’t hard to go back and try to make amends.  There were people that forgave me and people that didn’t.  One woman I tried to make amends to three times.  My sponsor said, “We are God’s people.  We don’t crawl before anyone.”  She told me that I needed to accept that she wasn’t going to forgive me and be ok with it.  My father told me to stop and that I didn’t need to do or say anything more.  My being sober was enough.  I had a cousin that said, “If you’re trying to make amends, don’t.  There’s no need.”  None of it went the way I envisioned it in my mind.  All of it went the way it was supposed to.  The woman that didn’t forgive me I supposed had her own pain and it really wasn’t about me.  I grew to accept that.

But then it became time to make amends to myself.  Wow, how was I going to put back what I had broken in myself?  I had vowed that I never wanted anyone to take care of me again.  My children took care of and parented me and I never wanted that again.   I also vowed that never again would I be dependent on someone else’s income or affections.  If I was to marry again it would be as an equal.

My amends to myself was to go back to school and get a bachelor’s degree.  The profession I chose was chemistry.  I had trouble getting loans and grants.  I had trouble juggling my class schedule with work and my children’s school and activities.  I had trouble with classes.  I was so anxiety ridden that it was difficult to concentrate.  I failed a couple of classes and retook them.  My grades were slightly above average and every day I was exhausted.  I’d be ready to quit and then I’d wake up in the morning and ask, “Where else are you going to go?  What else are you going to do?”  I didn’t know so I went to class.  It took me 10 years to finish and I had to take comprehensive exams on all of the chemistry classes I took in order to graduate.

The day I took my very last exam felt very ordinary.  I’m not sure what I expected.  I think I thought there would be a brass band or fireworks.  A standing ovation would have been nice.  I drove to my son’s house because it was nearby and cried on his shoulder like a baby.  It was finished.  The debt had been paid.  Then I simply went to my job and put on my lab coat.

You know, I wish I could tell you that I’ve never had another guilty pang or that I never beat myself up.  I probably punished myself by choosing the degree that I did.  I wish I could tell you that all of my resentment toward me was gone.  I’ve certainly have learned to forgive everyone else.  I can tell you this.  Whenever I start in on myself, I have the ability to say that the debt had been paid.  The slate is wiped clean and my life is new.  I know that I’m clean in my higher power’s eyes.

More importantly, over time I’ve come to know that my experience benefits others.  There is no other person that can reach an alcoholic but an alcoholic.

About three years sober, I spoke at a man’s funeral and I told his family how he was the first person that gave me any kind of hope that I could stay sober and told of how much his story touched my life.  His grown children who were maybe in their 50’s came to me later and expressed how much resentment they had toward their father and that I had helped them to understand alcoholism and come to peace with who their father was.  I had helped them to get closer.  I can think of no greater gift then what they had given me that day.  I could forgive myself a little bit more.

In spite of a small pang of guilt once in a while, I am grateful for who I am today, alcoholism and all.  I have what I want and I don’t have what I don’t want.

So I’m sharing my experience in the hope that my experience can benefit others, just for today.

Checking Out

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I was sick yesterday with the flu and was horrified when my Wi-Fi quit working because of the rain.  I was passing the time watching Netflix trying to zone out and not think about how lousy I felt.  I could have put in one of hundreds of DVD’s I own but I’ve been trying to practice mindfulness and thought that maybe this was a good opportunity to be connected to want is.  If I can’t even be there for myself and sit still when I’m sick or in pain, how can I be there for someone else who is sick and in pain.  I decided to just be for a little while.  I practiced some meditation and just drifted in and out of sleep.  When I was awake, I was at peace.

In early sobriety, I was hyper-agitated, anxiety ridden and everything in my life was a drama.  I was constantly worried about where my life was going to take me and how I was going to survive on my own.  I was told to stay in the moment.

I was driving down the freeway one afternoon on my way to school.  I was worried about an upcoming exam, I was worried about my kids, and I was worried about when my student grants were going to arrive.  I was so full of anxiety that I just couldn’t stand it anymore and finally remembered what I was told in a meeting, “Stay in the moment.”

“What does that even mean,” I thought to myself?  “I’m in the moment.  What are they trying to tell me?”  I’m racking my brain trying to ponder the meaning of this pat answer that I was given for my anxiety.  Finally it occurred to me that I was driving and maybe I should focus on my driving.  Then I realized that if I were focused on my driving or whatever else I was doing throughout the day that I probably wouldn’t have anxiety.

We live most of our lives zoning out.  We drive to work automatically and don’t even think about where we are or what we are doing.  We do our jobs on autopilot too.  When we come home we zone out in front of the TV or computer.  I’m not drunk anymore, but sometimes I still live my life checked out.  When I live my life on autopilot, my mind runs away with me and the anxiety creeps in.

I want to be present today.  I was at the state fair with my grandsons over the weekend and was there to see the amazement and amusement on my grandson’s face when he noticed the difference between a bull and a cow.  It had to be one of the top 100 moments of my life.  I was at the birth of another grandson.  I have four grandkids that I’ve been camping with and watched their personalities as they dealt with the outdoors and bugs and vaulted toilets.  It’s hilarious.   I don’t want to miss that stuff anymore.  In order not to miss it I have to be fully engaged and paying attention.  In order to be present for that sometimes it requires that we are present for the pain as well, my own and the pain of those I love.  I’ve watched teenagers struggle with finding their way and self- destructive tendencies.  I’ve watched a child struggle with being chronically ill.  I am watching now my second generation of children with their own emotional struggles.  I’ve watch friends die from alcoholism.  I’ve listened to countless stories of alcoholic women and the abuses they’ve suffered.  Don’t get me wrong. I’d love to check out for the pain, but life doesn’t work that way.  If I check out, I don’t notice the little things that make up the great moments of my life.

Just for today I’ll stay present.

Denial

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Denial.  “Denial is not a river in Egypt.”  Why do I hear people say that as if it’s a bad thing?  I like denial.  I think it’s a useful tool.  Denial probably saved my life.  It protects us from truths that we’re not yet ready to hear, truths that may be so life altering that we honestly couldn’t handle them.

I was in denial that my first marriage was empty and over.  I had five kids and I was a stay at home mom with no education and no skills. My kids were sickly and I took them to the doctor twice a week.  I was not in a place to change my life or disrupt my children or accept that the marriage for all practical purposes had been over for a long time. Finally when the stress was bad enough I discovered alcohol made me a little less bitchy when he got home from work.

I blamed him for everything.  I was in denial that I had a part in the disintegration of the marriage. I wasn’t in a place to accept any kind of blame or responsibility.  I was overwhelmed and exhausted and was having a difficult time coping with all of the illness and was mourning that my children were suffering.  I was sick myself and was trying to take care of myself and my kids knowing that I was doing a terrible job at both.  Accepting responsibility for anything more would have put me over the edge.

I was in denial that I had a drinking problem.  I didn’t know there was help and I didn’t know I could get help.  I kind of thought that I needed a mental hospital but didn’t feel I could leave my kids to get help.  I honestly thought that it was a phase I was going through and it would somehow miraculously go away and I’d be ok.  I was just having a tough time.  Accepting that I had alcoholism also would have meant to me at the time that I was immoral and deserved hell.  It would have been too much for me to accept when I was trying so hard to hold it altogether, until I learned that I had a disease that had been labeled by the American Medical Association because it is progressive and fatal.

I’m not saying that denial is healthy.  I’m just saying that when someone is in denial there is something deeper going on behind it.  I’ve been in denial.  I’ve had family members in denial.  Maybe instead of judging ourselves and others, we should have a little more compassion and try to gently nudge those we love instead of throwing them in the river, of Egypt, so to speak.  I realize this is more difficult when we are ignoring life threatening situations. Sometimes we need the slap in the face to wake up to life, to wake up to what’s going on around us.  I just think if we could exercise compassion instead of judgment with ourselves and those we love, our sobriety would reach the next level.  I write this not because I have mastered it but because it’s something I need to practice.

Denial is not a river in Egypt but it sure prevented me from committing suicide a time or two.  Just for today I will practice non- judgment and allow those I love to come out of denial in their own time and when they are ready.

 

 

Depression

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Early sobriety was difficult for me.  The promises of sobriety are said to materialize, sometimes quickly sometimes slowly.  For me it was this painful grueling process in which I hung on by my fingernails for almost three years.  I had worked the steps. I had a sponsor that I called everyday along with other sober friends.  I went to meetings whenever I could.  I prayed and tried my best to assemble some sort of spiritual life.  I read books.  I was really no better off than before I had started drinking.  Or at least that’s how I felt.  I only drank for three years to medicate my depression before ending up in a treatment center.   I was still miserable and self-destructive.  Although I didn’t drink, I picked up smoking.  At times, I was suicidal.  And finally after three years of this, I relapsed.  I had to get out of the fear and anxiety somehow.  I was desperate.  The frightening part is that it almost was an automatic response to life’s stress for me.  There wasn’t a lot of forethought and it was totally unplanned.  It was such a short relapse that I decided no one needed to know about it (another story), but I did decide that maybe it was time to see a doctor and get some outside help and some antidepressants.

I know there are those in 12 step programs that disagree with having prescribed antidepressants.  I am not one of them as long as they are of the non-addictive variety.  What I know for sure is that I am bodily and mentally different from my fellows.  I have studied chemistry and biology and what I know today is that I sometimes suffer from not having the right amount of neurotransmitters in my brain to prevent depression no matter how hard I work my program.  I also know that my sobriety is contingent upon my spiritual condition.  I think sometimes I’m led by my higher power to seek medical help when necessary.  It’s not a character weakness.  For me it’s more like a bronchial infection that needs medical attention every so often when I have some unusual stress.

After three months of medication, I was a new person.  My life changed dramatically.  However, I don’t believe it was all in the medication.  My work with the 12 steps was preparation and the medicine was the catalyst that helped increase the activation energy of the work I had done, putting me in a far better place mentally in a shorter amount of time.

I do not recommend this for everyone. It’s just part of my story.  I do understand that my disease stands waiting for me.  I understand that there is also only so much stress, anxiety and fear that I can take before taking a drink is automatic.  I have a quality life and I work a solid program, but sometimes it’s not enough.  I need medical help.  I practice all kinds of alternative medicine and believe in living as drug free as possible which includes antidepressants and antibiotics, asprin, etc.  There is a time and a place for my program.  There is a time and a place for alternative medicine.  There is a time and a place for medical intervention.  The trick is putting aside my ego that tells me I can do it on my own and knowing how much is enough. Living life on life’s terms tells me that I will get a bronchial infection from time to time.  It tells me I will have depression from time to time.  I’m ok with that today and I’m ok with getting the help I need.

Just for today I will live life on life’s terms and accept it.

Overthinking

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Lately I’ve been making myself insane with over-thinking.  I have conversations with myself in my head and I try to guess what others are thinking about me.  I begin to think my husband has lost interest and I worry about work.  Anyone who knows my husband would tell you how ridiculous that is.  I lose a lot of sleep but most of all I’ve gotten out of my peaceful place and I no longer feel comfortable in my own skin.  When this lasts longer than a couple of days the irritability starts to set in.  Then I become restless.  I start to think I should change where I work, where I live, etc., etc. Fear begins to take over.   Does that sound familiar?  Restless, irritable and discontent are classic hallmarks of a dry drunk.  Finally, when it gets to be so uncomfortable that I can’t stand it anymore I go back to the basics.

My first sponsor was a gentle woman.  She had to be.  I was extremely fragile in the beginning.  If I would have had a 12 step program Nazi, I probably would not be sober today.  I called her at least three times a day in the beginning because my anxiety was so severe.  I called several other people throughout the day too.  But one day after listening to my ranting, she became totally exasperated.  First of all, she told me that it was none of my business what anyone thought of me.

The next thing she said kind of shocked sense into me.  I’m a smart person.  I was going to school and taking calculus, chemistry and physics.  I had the attitude that I could out think anything if I just ruminated long enough.  Out of sheer frustration with me she said, “YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO THINK ANYMORE!  YOUR THINKER IS BROKEN!  YOU DO NOT KNOW HOW TO THINK!”  Then she said, “From now on you can use your thinking for math and science only.  In no other circumstance are you allowed to dwell or ruminate on any thought.”

For some reason those words resonated with me and I knew it was true.  Thinking in the end either damaged or destroyed most of my relationships.  It never failed to cause me extreme anxiety.  Worse of all, I was all I could think about.  It was once suggested to me by someone else in the program to just think about one other person besides myself today.  That was kind of a rude awakening because I always thought of myself as a kind person.  I’m not.  I’m self-centered.

It seems that what was true of me yesterday is also true of me today.  I’m still self-centered.  My thinker is broken and to tell you the truth it’s kind of a relief to me to know that I don’t have to think my way out of anything or try to examine my relationships.  I can live and let live.  I can allow my relationships to move in the direction that they will and trust in the process and my higher power.

Just for today I cease thinking.

Sleepless Nights

~ Patti ~ 3 Comments

I’m still an alcoholic and the world is still for me sometimes filled with a million forms of fear.  I don’t sleep well at night because I don’t know how to relax.  I worry about work.  I worry about my family and sometimes I just worry.  For no apparent reason I have general anxiety that I can’t name or put a face to.  Sometimes it’s just the committees in my head that have conversations or I have arguments with myself that keep me up at night.  Sometimes I’m afraid of the dark, the unknown abyss that lies looming in front of me.  After a night tossing and turning the morning brings an emotional hangover that includes a headache and sometimes a little nausea.  The day begins and sometimes all I can do is just show up to work and do the next right thing.

The funny thing about these nights is that I’ve learned how to ride them out.  I’ve learned how to show up for myself, my family and my friends.  I’ve learned that all of the things I worry about never come to fruition and it’s a lot of wasted time and energy.  Most of all I’ve learned how to roll with the punches.  The punches being the endless worry.  I’ve learned not to trust the committees while at the same time trusting in myself and my ability to overcome any challenge that I may have.

You see I’ve come to accept that I am bodily and mentally different from normal people.  Most of all I’ve come to accept that this is part of me and my alcoholism and I’ve learned that I don’t have to be normal and I’m comfortable with my crazy.  I don’t have a need to fix it or cure it.  I can be with what is.

Although I don’t need a cure and I don’t need it fixed, I do have a solution.  I have my 12 step program that I can trust and rely on.  It has never failed me because it gave me a tool box.  It taught me to suit up and show up.  It taught me one day at a time.  It taught me how to connect with a higher power of my own understanding.  It taught me not to quit before the miracle happens.  It taught me to do the next right thing. It taught me live and let live.   And it taught me to trust that if I follow the principles I will stay sober and that there are certain promises that come true.  When I first got sober I hated these trite one line phrases that are supposed to make me feel better but didn’t.  After some time in the program I became indoctrinated, maybe even brainwashed.  They became a part of me, a habit.

Because of the principles of the program, I live a good life today.  I have a loving husband, I have family and friends that love me, I have a degree and a good job that give me a comfortable living.  I know that my fears have the capacity to sabotage all of that and that’s when I pull out my tool box.  I tell myself to live and let live.  None of my worries are life threatening.  I tend to catastrophize.   

Tonight, when I can’t sleep I know that this too shall pass and I don’t beat myself up because I can’t stop obsessing.  I recognize it for what it is and that it’s part of the disease of alcoholism.  I pull out my tool box and pray.  I practice meditating on what’s good and right in my life.  Just like an athlete or musician practices their plays or the score in their head, I practice creating the life I want in my head instead of the life I’m afraid of.  I make a mental gratitude list and I write.  Somehow when I write it pulls together all of the lose yarns and weaves them into a scarf that I can wrap around my neck and get some warmth and comfort from and if I’m really lucky someone else will too.  That’s the hope, that my experience can benefit others and that’s the promise.

Just for tonight I’ll meditate knowing that I’ll sleep when I need to and knowing that all is right with my world.

 

Resentment

~ Patti ~ 1 Comment

I’m thinking about resentment today as I dread to have to deal with someone today at work. I discovered working my 12 steps that I probably played a part in the demise of the relationships with those I resented in the past.  When I finally recognized that I indeed may have had some responsibility, forgiveness came easy.  But what about when I’m truly injured by someone in which I have no part to play.  I think the thing I resent the most is that the injurious situation made me feel like a victim.  I quit playing the victim role when I worked through the 12 steps and took responsibility for my own life and behaviors.  Now I’m several years sober and feel like a victim again.

Resentment: Merriam-Webster defines it as a feeling of indignant displeasure or persistent ill will at something regarded as wrong, insult, or injury.

Robert C. Solomon, a professor of philosophy at the University of Texas at Austin describes resentment as the means by which man clings to his self-respect.  He wrote that it is in this moment when humanity is at its lowest ebb.

When I read what doctor Solomon had to say my first thought was, “Really, MY humanity is at its lowest ebb?  I’m the injured party here.”  So I looked up the word humanity in the good ole Merriam-Webster.  It’s defined as the quality or state of being kind to other people or to animals.  So I guess under the definition, I’m not in a state of kindness.

Hey, I think I’m doing well not to retaliate and now I have to live in a state of being kind?

The truth is that the insult that was injurious was embarrassing and humiliating.  It happened in front of respected colleagues.  But, am I using the resentment as a means to cling to my self-respect?  If I am honest with myself I would have to say, yes, without a doubt.  And then I have to get honest with myself again and say that my self-respect can never be taken away without my consent.  The truth is that there is no insult or injury, psychological or physical that can take away the respect that I have for me no matter how hurtful the injury is.  Only I can do that and I did.  I allowed the situation to change the way I felt about myself and I became resentful.

I am told in my 12 step program that “Resentment is the number one offender.  It destroys more alcoholics that anything else.  From it stem all forms of spiritual disease.”  Now all of the sudden I’m on the path to self-destruction.  I’m in a moment when humanity is at its lowest ebb.  I’m told that resentment is fatal.

We are also told that “this world and its people were often quite wrong.”  But we need to be free of anger.  Anger is the “dubious luxury of normal men.”  Our course is to recognize that those who wrong us are spiritually sick and show them the same tolerance and pity that we would show a sick friend.  Then we pray.  We pray for ourselves that we would be tolerant and helpful.  We pray for the offender that they would find peace, prosperity and love.  We pray for them the things that we want for ourselves.

The thing is that you don’t have to believe in prayer to have it work.  During this process, if we are diligent we somehow lose our resentments and we save ourselves from destruction.  It’s worked for me in the past and it will work for me now.  It’s simple but not easy.

Just for today I will pray for my enemy all the things that I want in my life.

 

Balance

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Balance: an even distribution of weight enabling someone or something to remain upright and steady, a condition in which different elements are equal or in the correct proportions, keep or put something in a steady position so that it does not fall, offset or compare the value of one thing with another.

One of my children was talking about balance this weekend.  I had to ask myself, “What does balance mean?  What does a balanced life look like?  How do I balance my family of five children and four grandchildren with a second marriage, a career, my recovery and my relationship to my higher power?  When is it appropriate to put all else on hold and take care of me?  When is it selfish?  Do I include the environment?  How about the animals I’m responsible for?  Where is the line between taking care of my house so that it’s a home and making it part of the Parade of Homes?  How about money?  How do I balance giving to my kids and saving for my future? How do I balance enjoying life and building up my bank account?  Where is the balance between doing the things I enjoy and taking care of others?  How about my heath?  How about what I eat?  How much do I take time out of a busy schedule and my family to exercise?”

The more questions I asked the more out of balance I felt and the more confused I felt.  I haven’t even added in my extended family.  I felt overwhelmed.  Clearly I’m out of balance.  I’m feeling unsteady.  I’m getting ready for a fall.  What that means for me is some kind of emotional meltdown or anxiety, sometimes a season of depression.

I thought of Rober Fulghum’s book, All I Ever Needed to Know, I Learned in Kindergarten.  “Live a balanced life. Learn some and think some and draw and paint and sing and dance and play and work every day some.”  He admonishes us to share, play fair, don’t hit, clean up your own mess, don’t take things, say you’re sorry, hold hands and stick together.  He makes balance simple.

My depression and anxiety are there for a reason.  They force me to balance my life.  I do not have the luxury of normal people to live off of balance for long periods of time running to and fro from one activity to another.  My years of untreated depression eventually brought me to medicate it with alcohol.  My anxiety and depression warn me that something is off and I’ve learned to pay attention.  I’ve learned to accept anxiety and depression for the warning signal that it is and be grateful for it.   Balance is continuous and it changes daily.  If I struggle with anxiety and depression it means that my life is off balance and I must do the inner work to make the adjustments.  It’s a one day at a time proposition.

Just for today I think I’ll draw and paint when I get home from work and maybe pet the dog too.