hi all. here i am. today i sent out a resume, set up an interview, and contacted a person i admire. continuing my resolve to take action and not get stuck in thinking about all of the reasons why i should not take action. of course i have the requisite self doubt, but mostly i am doing ok. maybe i am even a little proud of myself. i am finally moving from thinking into action and i just cannot believe how truly hard it can be for me to do this. how easy it is for me to ruminate, worry, obsess and get stuck in my head and then how refreshing it is to take action and just stop thinking so much.
i dont know how or where this all started but i do recognize these self defeating behaviors as old friends (or enemies) that come out to play just when i need them least. the antidote to all of the thinking issues is action though. how liberating it is to do. action towards growth is really quite possibly the opposite in all ways of addiction. addiction is stuck if you are lucky and moving backwards if you are honest. nothing about abusing anything is forward moving--not really. when they say that the disease is progessive it is only the disease that really goes forward, the person goes back back back or down. either way you look at it, i think moving forward in any direction is moving towards recovery and is good and healthy.
i need to be careful when i stall. when i get stuck there is always the possibility that i will go backwards and so i am careful during these times. like a new driver to a stick shift--when the hills start coming i need to be careful not to roll back down. so i am careful. i am here writing to you all again. being mindful. thinking but not overthinking and trying to eat well, exercise and do the next right thing. keeping it simple as they say. hope you are too. xxk
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Thursday, July 22, 2010
still standing
today is thursday. still no word on the house. and some bad news about the job we thought my husband had. he doesnt. total communication failure resulted in him not being able to take the job which means that he now has to start looking again. not sure if i should laugh or cry. i guess laugh. my dad is struggling with deciding between angioplast or bipass surgery. and today i have to go to court to testify against one of my favorite clients. i am trying to just accpet that this is a hard week and that still things happen as they should and as they are supposed to. i admit to really struggling with this lately and constantly engaging in taking my will back and then turning it over again. i feel emotionally done in by too many possiblities. i dont even know what to hope for anymore, other then the strength to make the best of whatever actually happens...
i can say happily that during all of this i've not wanted a drink and that i actually am able to feel oddly serene sometimes during chaos which i attribute to my past but, hey, whatever works at this point. i am basically stressed but still happy. i love my kids, husband, family, job, and house and realize that having my health and my family having theirs is priceless and the only thing that truly matters. i am grateful for this beyond words. i am also grateful for the ability to step outside of this nonsense and see what really matters is all totally together and fine. the rest is just...details. where i live and what i do for a job are important but they dont define who i am and they certainly are not going to dictate how happy i can or cant be. in the end, i have everything i want and need right in this crazy day. i just need to keep reminding myself of that...here's to a day full of acceptance and gratitude for all of us. xxk
i can say happily that during all of this i've not wanted a drink and that i actually am able to feel oddly serene sometimes during chaos which i attribute to my past but, hey, whatever works at this point. i am basically stressed but still happy. i love my kids, husband, family, job, and house and realize that having my health and my family having theirs is priceless and the only thing that truly matters. i am grateful for this beyond words. i am also grateful for the ability to step outside of this nonsense and see what really matters is all totally together and fine. the rest is just...details. where i live and what i do for a job are important but they dont define who i am and they certainly are not going to dictate how happy i can or cant be. in the end, i have everything i want and need right in this crazy day. i just need to keep reminding myself of that...here's to a day full of acceptance and gratitude for all of us. xxk
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
waiting, acceptance, and everything in between
hi all, tonite is tuesday. true to form, i cannot sleep, and am tired. why or how this happens to me i really dont know but that it does just when i am on the edge of being rested again is true madness. anyway, not in an effort to try to make my insomnia productive, here i am. so far the last week has been rough. my dad is meeting with a cardiologist to figure out his double bypass surgery for next week. our house is still under contract and i feel hopelessly in limbo. my job is slow which means my head is constantly in all of the wrong places--i.e. worrying, being negative, etc and i have a sore throat.
complaining is liberating--at least momentarily. anyway, tonite i sit here. tired. lonely. unsure. i am trying to work on accepting things as they happen. trying to feel that things will work out as they should. trying to not feel like i am mid air in a free fall jump which is how i really feel. i feel somewhat removed from my old and current life and nowhere near into my new life. stuck in purgatory. or just plain stuck.
i feel out of sync with things. sometimes this happens. it always unhappens but it does happen. i worry that i am on the brink of some sort of terrible spin out. then i remember that whenever times are tough i have this worry--intially. it passes.
i remember how after jfk jr died--there was lots of press on the actual accident. i was intrigued and terrified by the idea that new pilots in extreme fog and weather can actually experience not knowing up form down and it is then that they need to use instruments. i remember reading this and thinking, even back then, what a metaphor for life this is. when we are confused and cant see well--we need to fall back on using our instruments. we need to actually not trust our instincts because they may feed us inaccurate information. so tonite, i try to use my instruments. my instruments are my recovery tools. meetings. friends. writing. reading. i need to do what works for me and not keep looking out at the fog anymore. sometimes when it is dark and rainy it is best to not try to see what is going on but to use other tools. it makes sense, maybe?
so here i sit, tonite, like so many other nights. tired. awake. wondering. i hear the breeze blowing the night trees and feel that this too will pass. this night like many other nights will be a memory and these worries like all of the others before them will work out exactly as they are supposed to. i just need to continue to trust the process. hope you can trust your process too. whoever you are, wherever you are--thanks for listening again tonite. xxk
complaining is liberating--at least momentarily. anyway, tonite i sit here. tired. lonely. unsure. i am trying to work on accepting things as they happen. trying to feel that things will work out as they should. trying to not feel like i am mid air in a free fall jump which is how i really feel. i feel somewhat removed from my old and current life and nowhere near into my new life. stuck in purgatory. or just plain stuck.
i feel out of sync with things. sometimes this happens. it always unhappens but it does happen. i worry that i am on the brink of some sort of terrible spin out. then i remember that whenever times are tough i have this worry--intially. it passes.
i remember how after jfk jr died--there was lots of press on the actual accident. i was intrigued and terrified by the idea that new pilots in extreme fog and weather can actually experience not knowing up form down and it is then that they need to use instruments. i remember reading this and thinking, even back then, what a metaphor for life this is. when we are confused and cant see well--we need to fall back on using our instruments. we need to actually not trust our instincts because they may feed us inaccurate information. so tonite, i try to use my instruments. my instruments are my recovery tools. meetings. friends. writing. reading. i need to do what works for me and not keep looking out at the fog anymore. sometimes when it is dark and rainy it is best to not try to see what is going on but to use other tools. it makes sense, maybe?
so here i sit, tonite, like so many other nights. tired. awake. wondering. i hear the breeze blowing the night trees and feel that this too will pass. this night like many other nights will be a memory and these worries like all of the others before them will work out exactly as they are supposed to. i just need to continue to trust the process. hope you can trust your process too. whoever you are, wherever you are--thanks for listening again tonite. xxk
Thursday, July 15, 2010
work related sadness and peach applesauce
hi all, i am still reeling from reading a comment that i just got that really made me feel better, connected. still though, today was a tough one. i know i have blogged before about my work related angst and it is probably a little boring so i am sorry. but bc this is about my work with people active in addiction i think that it is still on topic or loosely on topic. today was hard-- as somedays are. today i got to see first hand what addiction does to young children and young mothers. i have seen this before and it never never becomes easier or less painful.
i realize as i drive away that all i really want to do is be the catcher in the rye to these mothers and children. to stop them from falling off this cliff that i know is there. rationally, i understand that i likely will not be able to effect much change with a person active in addiction and yet--i try anyway. why i am not totally sure, but i think i try because it hurts even more to not try.
anyhow, i really enjoy most of the people i get to work with. find them honest, real, painfully lost sometimes, but well intentioned usually. i also, as rule, come to learn that most of these young people have grown up with either addiction, violence, or loss and sometimes all three. i think daily about cycles and how hard it is to break them even when we want to.
i think about mothers and fathers struggling themselves and too sick to think about what their disease means to their children. i think about children struggling to make there parents be ok. i think about kids who are five years old and already can clean the house, wash dishes, make dinner, put younger kids to sleep. i wonder about those kids. what their experience will be w/ alcohol or drugs. i think about how much stress at five, six, or seven they already experience. i think about how much more they will need, enjoy, respond to, a substance that makes them feel ok. i think at five they are already vulnerable to addiction.
i think about my own family, my mom, my husband, and their experiences as children. i feel like crying for all of these kids and all the adults who were those kids. i feel deeply sad. true and honest sadness. i want to hate the world. i want to blame someone for the systems that dont work, the workers who dont care, the people who fall thru the cracks, fly below the radar, and end up somewhere where no one can save them but themselves.
i cant hate the world though, cant give up hope, because the real truth is that people do save themselves. everyday brokendown, haggard, confused, lonely, unsure people save themselves. not just from addiction but from all sort of other vices, dysfunctions, bad habits and destruction. each day someone or many someones out there make tiny decisions that are different. make a right not a left. each day there are people who get honest. who tell themselves and then someone, anyone, their first truth. these are the people i need to remember. the people who have the courage to change and the people who havent yet found it but one day might. these are my people. all of them. all of us. connected. we are the same more then we are different. giving up on their ability to change could mean giving up, on some level, on my own--and if there is one thing that i am sure of is that i am not giving up on that.
so here i am. another day i end typing. i look around the house. smell the peach applesauce bread me and hazel made. think about how i was trying to explain to her why we had to use a measuring cup and could not use the tinkerbell cup and how funny that was. under my bed there are clothes not empty beer bottles. in my freezer there is icecream and frozen bread not vodka or gin. there are no cigarettes or smoke or lighters. tomorrow i wil wake up and begin the day remembering every word i just typed. change is real. amen.
i realize as i drive away that all i really want to do is be the catcher in the rye to these mothers and children. to stop them from falling off this cliff that i know is there. rationally, i understand that i likely will not be able to effect much change with a person active in addiction and yet--i try anyway. why i am not totally sure, but i think i try because it hurts even more to not try.
anyhow, i really enjoy most of the people i get to work with. find them honest, real, painfully lost sometimes, but well intentioned usually. i also, as rule, come to learn that most of these young people have grown up with either addiction, violence, or loss and sometimes all three. i think daily about cycles and how hard it is to break them even when we want to.
i think about mothers and fathers struggling themselves and too sick to think about what their disease means to their children. i think about children struggling to make there parents be ok. i think about kids who are five years old and already can clean the house, wash dishes, make dinner, put younger kids to sleep. i wonder about those kids. what their experience will be w/ alcohol or drugs. i think about how much stress at five, six, or seven they already experience. i think about how much more they will need, enjoy, respond to, a substance that makes them feel ok. i think at five they are already vulnerable to addiction.
i think about my own family, my mom, my husband, and their experiences as children. i feel like crying for all of these kids and all the adults who were those kids. i feel deeply sad. true and honest sadness. i want to hate the world. i want to blame someone for the systems that dont work, the workers who dont care, the people who fall thru the cracks, fly below the radar, and end up somewhere where no one can save them but themselves.
i cant hate the world though, cant give up hope, because the real truth is that people do save themselves. everyday brokendown, haggard, confused, lonely, unsure people save themselves. not just from addiction but from all sort of other vices, dysfunctions, bad habits and destruction. each day someone or many someones out there make tiny decisions that are different. make a right not a left. each day there are people who get honest. who tell themselves and then someone, anyone, their first truth. these are the people i need to remember. the people who have the courage to change and the people who havent yet found it but one day might. these are my people. all of them. all of us. connected. we are the same more then we are different. giving up on their ability to change could mean giving up, on some level, on my own--and if there is one thing that i am sure of is that i am not giving up on that.
so here i am. another day i end typing. i look around the house. smell the peach applesauce bread me and hazel made. think about how i was trying to explain to her why we had to use a measuring cup and could not use the tinkerbell cup and how funny that was. under my bed there are clothes not empty beer bottles. in my freezer there is icecream and frozen bread not vodka or gin. there are no cigarettes or smoke or lighters. tomorrow i wil wake up and begin the day remembering every word i just typed. change is real. amen.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
rainy days and vision boards
hi anyone, everyone, friends, strangers, accidental viewers...today is saturday and it is raining. a little known secret is that i love rainy days. i love rain. it really takes the pressure off in terms of my expectations for the day. rain says to me, go ahead and do whatever you want today and dont worry you dont have to feel guilty bc it is raining and so you couldnt--train for a marathon, climb a moutain, kayak, or garden anyway. yes, some people still do these things but the general consesus is that you get a pass if it raining. or at least i get a pass. having given myself a pass for today already i instantly feel thoughtful, creative, and inspired--or at least i feel that those things are on there way.
last night i was up again. i managed to apply for a job which is major progress for me given my recent state of total paralysis by analysis (phrase heard at meeting--cant take credit for). anyway, caught in my pba i read thru job openings and then spend hours contemplating a life with said job. then i think about all angles of this job and eventually feel so freaked out by all of the different ways that this job would be different, challenging, not challenging, not different enough etc that i decide i need to think about it more and maybe it is better if i wait and dont apply. i know, i know. this makes no sense at all. this is where i am at though. so last night at 1am i broke thru this and applied for a job as a detox counselor at a hospital. after i applied i thought about how i have once again opted for a job that is not creative, does not involve writing, probably pays nothing. i thought about the great suits i wore in advertising and the cool office i worked in.
laying in bed last night, i was thinking about way too much. where i have been, where i am, where i am going. i tried to make sense of my life. i thought about how i looked in the mirror yesterday and honestly and for the first time thought i looked older. not old. just older. i thought i looked my age and i felt acutely aware of time and how quickly life passes when we're not paying attention. i thought about how i am happier now then i ever was at 26 and what that means. i thought about how i finally feel like i sort of know where i am and where i want to be and how it took 36 years to get here. i wondered about people who feel this way at 26 or even 16. i wondered about people who feel this way for the first time at 66. i thought about how it doesnt really matter. time. age. i realized i have been competing with a fictionalized version of myself who went to georgetown, majored in english, and became a writer.
i thought about how i visited georgetown in 7th grade, when my grades were still good, when i had never smoked a joint or had a beer. i thought about how i told my dad i was definitely going there. then i thought about being 15 and learning to roll a joint. i thought about deciding i really didnt care about what college i went to. i thought about not caring about anything except my friends and alcohol and drugs for the next ten years. huh. i thought i may have hated georgetown. i thought i may have loved it.
i tried to let it go.
that is my job today. to let it go. to stop beating myself up for not having the life that i could have had and start feeling good about this life. the life i have. the choices i have made. my beautiful children, my strong and life-loving husband, my amazing friends, my kind parents--, my little fiesty sister. all of it. the fictionalized version of me is over. there is just me, the me that i have really created not the one that i made up to make myself feel bad.
it is time to start using my imagination for good and not for evil. to start becoming the person that i can be today not lamenting the person i could have been yesterday. this is it. time to be in the solution, the now.
hope you can too. xx
last night i was up again. i managed to apply for a job which is major progress for me given my recent state of total paralysis by analysis (phrase heard at meeting--cant take credit for). anyway, caught in my pba i read thru job openings and then spend hours contemplating a life with said job. then i think about all angles of this job and eventually feel so freaked out by all of the different ways that this job would be different, challenging, not challenging, not different enough etc that i decide i need to think about it more and maybe it is better if i wait and dont apply. i know, i know. this makes no sense at all. this is where i am at though. so last night at 1am i broke thru this and applied for a job as a detox counselor at a hospital. after i applied i thought about how i have once again opted for a job that is not creative, does not involve writing, probably pays nothing. i thought about the great suits i wore in advertising and the cool office i worked in.
laying in bed last night, i was thinking about way too much. where i have been, where i am, where i am going. i tried to make sense of my life. i thought about how i looked in the mirror yesterday and honestly and for the first time thought i looked older. not old. just older. i thought i looked my age and i felt acutely aware of time and how quickly life passes when we're not paying attention. i thought about how i am happier now then i ever was at 26 and what that means. i thought about how i finally feel like i sort of know where i am and where i want to be and how it took 36 years to get here. i wondered about people who feel this way at 26 or even 16. i wondered about people who feel this way for the first time at 66. i thought about how it doesnt really matter. time. age. i realized i have been competing with a fictionalized version of myself who went to georgetown, majored in english, and became a writer.
i thought about how i visited georgetown in 7th grade, when my grades were still good, when i had never smoked a joint or had a beer. i thought about how i told my dad i was definitely going there. then i thought about being 15 and learning to roll a joint. i thought about deciding i really didnt care about what college i went to. i thought about not caring about anything except my friends and alcohol and drugs for the next ten years. huh. i thought i may have hated georgetown. i thought i may have loved it.
i tried to let it go.
that is my job today. to let it go. to stop beating myself up for not having the life that i could have had and start feeling good about this life. the life i have. the choices i have made. my beautiful children, my strong and life-loving husband, my amazing friends, my kind parents--, my little fiesty sister. all of it. the fictionalized version of me is over. there is just me, the me that i have really created not the one that i made up to make myself feel bad.
it is time to start using my imagination for good and not for evil. to start becoming the person that i can be today not lamenting the person i could have been yesterday. this is it. time to be in the solution, the now.
hope you can too. xx
Monday, July 5, 2010
fireworks
well, here it is. our house is officially udner contract. we are set to close 8/20. part of me is ecstatic at how things have begun to work out. the other part of me is totally freaked out about how things have worked out. tonite i layed in bed putting my daughter to sleep. i thought about how i have choices all in front of me. choices layed out in all different directions--like a fork or forks in the road. only the road is dark and i cant see where it goes. i can guess but i cant really see. i guess i never can, only in my everyday life--at least lately--i dont see my choices so clearly or maybe i do but dont pay attention. now i am paying attention. maybe too much attention.
i imagine one road that looks scary. i take risks--i try a job that is harder or more challenging. i get out of my comfort zone. i dont necessarily do what i've done. i push myself. this is the scary road?
i see another road. more comfortable. i do what i've done. i stay close to home in everyway. i focus on feeling secure and safe. this is the predictable road.
then, because i am me, i see another road. this is the road that many people may not see. this is the road back to where i have been or worse. on this road i take no risks. i become consumed by fear and self pity. i feel trapped. i feel misunderstood and alone. i imagine that all of the ways that i have learned to feel competent disappear when i leave vt. i end up somewhere, with a drink. truth be told i know what drink it would be. scotch. i wasnt a big scotch drinker but somehow in these moments i cant understand why not. in anycase, it is there. the old me. the old thoughts. the old fears. the old seeming solutions that are really just bigger problems. i even can see right now that the other two roads could also lead to this road--so strange how that road is always there...
it all lays out before me. and i stand or really sit here. i watched a show on tv tonite called panic. it was about panic attacks. at the end, a famous actress, told some story...the end was something like the only way to conquer fear is to not listen to what it tells you to do. my fear tells me to hide or sabotage. and i will not do that. my fear tells me to not be honest about how i am feeling. and i will not do that either. i guess in the end, i am no longer listening to my fear. yes, i hear her musings but i dont need to do what she says anymore. freedom. hope. these are mine, my gifts, i have worked for them and i will not give them away. not even for a minute.
lastly, last night we took the kids to see the fireworks. they had never gone before. i was worried about my daughter who can be sensitive to sounds and new things. i thought about not taking her bc maybe she'd be crying and so upset that she'd never want to see another firework show forever. i thought about cancelling. when the first firework went off, i looked down at my daughter's face. in the light of the still bright sky--i saw a little face alive, mesmerized, smiling. i could barely pay attention to the show myself as i sat there looking down at the little girl who was pointing and smiling at the sky. i thought to myself, this is the lesson--i cant protect her from what is scary or me and if i try--we both just may miss the fireworks.
i imagine one road that looks scary. i take risks--i try a job that is harder or more challenging. i get out of my comfort zone. i dont necessarily do what i've done. i push myself. this is the scary road?
i see another road. more comfortable. i do what i've done. i stay close to home in everyway. i focus on feeling secure and safe. this is the predictable road.
then, because i am me, i see another road. this is the road that many people may not see. this is the road back to where i have been or worse. on this road i take no risks. i become consumed by fear and self pity. i feel trapped. i feel misunderstood and alone. i imagine that all of the ways that i have learned to feel competent disappear when i leave vt. i end up somewhere, with a drink. truth be told i know what drink it would be. scotch. i wasnt a big scotch drinker but somehow in these moments i cant understand why not. in anycase, it is there. the old me. the old thoughts. the old fears. the old seeming solutions that are really just bigger problems. i even can see right now that the other two roads could also lead to this road--so strange how that road is always there...
it all lays out before me. and i stand or really sit here. i watched a show on tv tonite called panic. it was about panic attacks. at the end, a famous actress, told some story...the end was something like the only way to conquer fear is to not listen to what it tells you to do. my fear tells me to hide or sabotage. and i will not do that. my fear tells me to not be honest about how i am feeling. and i will not do that either. i guess in the end, i am no longer listening to my fear. yes, i hear her musings but i dont need to do what she says anymore. freedom. hope. these are mine, my gifts, i have worked for them and i will not give them away. not even for a minute.
lastly, last night we took the kids to see the fireworks. they had never gone before. i was worried about my daughter who can be sensitive to sounds and new things. i thought about not taking her bc maybe she'd be crying and so upset that she'd never want to see another firework show forever. i thought about cancelling. when the first firework went off, i looked down at my daughter's face. in the light of the still bright sky--i saw a little face alive, mesmerized, smiling. i could barely pay attention to the show myself as i sat there looking down at the little girl who was pointing and smiling at the sky. i thought to myself, this is the lesson--i cant protect her from what is scary or me and if i try--we both just may miss the fireworks.
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