Thanksgiving

I know the holidays are rough for most of us.  But for me it’s the one time a year that I’ve been able to put aside my depression and anxiety and focus on hope. My husband tells me that Christmas lives at my house.  I have a small ranch but I decorate several trees.  There is Christmas in every corner.  That’s not to say that I didn’t have some rough years.

I remember the year I was so mad at my husband, now my ex, that I actually threw the Thanksgiving turkey as it was coming out of the oven.  I’m not proud of that.  There should never be any reason for such a violent reaction.  Alcohol brings to us a myriad of regrets and behaviors that we never thought we were capable of.

The year after that I was six weeks sober and found myself sitting in an aftercare meeting Thanksgiving night.  I remember thinking, “I’ve only got to be among the lowest people on the face of the earth.  How did, I, get here?”

Those were probably my most despondent holidays.  That was 14 years ago.  It’s amazing what a decade brings.  My home is a safe place today.  It’s safe from me.  The holidays are joyous occasions that I get to spend with my five children and their spouses and kids.  I get to bring good memories and set my own traditions.  My grandkids know that I will get them books and they look forward to that.  I paint special ornaments on wood for my kids that they can pass on to their kids after I’m gone.  My Christmases will live on generations after I’m gone.

This year I look forward to spending Thanksgiving with my ex-husband and his wife.  They are family.  We will laugh and share our troubles and dreams and things that we’ve learned.  We will share our gratitude.

Maybe the holidays are horrible for you.  I pray you will wrap yourself in the fellowship of a group of alcoholics and make them your family.  I know a man that has a Christmas breakfast for his alcoholic friends.  He stays in service and takes care of his adopted family of ex-drunks.  He gives the gift of hope.

There are good years and bad years.  But I know one thing for sure, “I’ve have touched the bottom and it is sound.” –John Bunyan

Just for today I will look for those things that I can be Thankful for and remember that there will never be a holiday that a drink won’t make worse.  Happy Thanksgiving!!!

Everything Changes

My daughter just celebrated four years of sobriety.  As I was sitting in her home group meeting watching her share I began reminiscing about when she first graduated from treatment and how unsure of herself she was.  She was struggling in this tiny apartment to etch out a living for herself.  Now she has four years, was just promoted to a position that put her and her two boys out of poverty level.  She and her boyfriend of two years have started talking about marriage.

I remember my own situation 14 years ago going through a divorce and a custody battle, hating my ex-husband and fearing everything. I went back to school wondering if I would ever make it or if I was smart enough. A friend described my early sobriety while he was sharing in a meeting on my birthday.  He said, “She was so nervous, she shook like a little Chihuahua.”  That was the truth.  Now my ex-husband and his wife are considered some of my best friends, I have a chemistry degree, I manage someone else’s business, drive a new car and am married to my soul mate.

During one of my worst times a friend of mine in the program said, “One thing I know for sure; everything changes.  Throughout the last 14 years when I’m frustrated, sad, feel stuck or depressed I take comfort in the fact that everything changes.  Change used to be frightening and quite frankly still is sometimes.  But when life takes a turn for the worst, I know that change is around the corner.

Life changed for my daughter in four short years.  Life changed for me.  Had I known that when I was worried I wouldn’t make it and full of anxiety, I might have enjoyed the journey.  I might have laughed with my children more, experienced more of college, been relaxed about dating, loved more, taken more baths and thought of others instead of myself.

I have a hard time remembering that when my back is against the wall at work or my husband needs to get his heart checked out or my kids tell me they are struggling with depression.  Tomorrow everything could be roses and when I get too confident in my position and my ego starts working, I have to remember that everything changes there too.  Tomorrow I could be knocked down a peg.  Life is that way.

So I think the point is to stay in the moment where peace abounds in any situation and not think about tomorrow.  I’m told tomorrow will take care of itself.  Everything changes.

Just for today, I’ll stay in the moment knowing that circumstances change and that peace is found in the now.

Fighting Against the Tide

One of my sons went to the doctor for depression.  The doctor had him fill out a questionnaire that asked things like, “Do you think that bad things will happen to you?  Do you think that you are going to die?”  Even when my son is depressed, he always seems to find the humor in things.  He’s telling me the story and we’re both laughing, “Of course bad things are going to happen to me and I’m going to die.”  Doesn’t everyone know that?  As an alcoholic, those thoughts come naturally for me and apparently they come naturally for him too.

It turns out that he was diagnosed with bipolar disorder in which at first I took the news rather well and decided that it made sense with some of his dangerous behaviors and highs and lows.  I was relieved he at least had a name to it and that there is definite help for it.  But after a couple of hours I started catastrophizing it.  I thought about all the bad things that could happen with it and thought that maybe he could die from dangerous behaviors or suicide.  I also thought that I must have been a really bad mother and I asked myself if I was abusive and I don’t remember it or don’t recognize it.  The more I wondered if I was crazy the crazier I got.

I texted my sister for some support and she said what I expected her too.  She told me to raise my energy and think about all the things I love about my son and to think positive thoughts about his healing.  She told me to create wellness and love.  I totally agreed with her, but as always, the practice is far harder than the theory.

By the end of the day I was so exhausted with worry and projection and beating myself up that I came home from work and went to bed without fixing dinner for myself or my husband.  As I lay in bed I thought of the things my sister told me to do.  I knew she was right but I still wanted to sulk.  I knew my son needed positive support but I couldn’t lift myself up enough to send it to him through meditation, prayer or any other way.  I couldn’t shake the thought that it was my fault or that I could have prevented it.

So I did what I used to do when I first got sober.  It’s my personality to fear life and tough times and just go to bed in the fetal position for days or weeks and not come out of my room fearing what’s on the outside.  When I first got sober I was afraid of doing that because I knew that I wouldn’t come out of my room except to go to the liquor store.  So when I went through divorce, or broke up with my boyfriend or needed a fourth surgery on my hand, I’d go to bed in fetal position but I would limit it.  Just for today I’ll stay in bed.  Tomorrow morning I’ll resume my regular life and practice positive thinking.

By doing that, I’ve allowed myself to grieve but not wallow.  It takes the pressure off and I don’t have to beat myself up for not being positive in a tough situation or not practicing what I preach.  I went to bed at 6:00am and got up in the morning and things looked just a little lighter which made it easier for me to meditate on the positive and send my son positive energy.

He called me two days later and reported that he was already feeling better.  I contribute it to the creation of positive energy and technology of course.  I also contribute it to the fact that I wasn’t trying to fight against the tide.  I allowed myself just enough isolation and grief to let some very real feelings and fear out but not enough to stop my productivity.  It allowed me to be rational about his depression and it allowed me to accept it as being life on life’s terms.

Just for today, I give myself a break and allow myself the time to pull myself together.

The Work

“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.

Checking Out

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.