Hi Old Friends, it continues to be dificult to find time to write. I actually have been spending a good deal of time reading and working. Maybe I have been sort of hibernating--and dealing with other family matters that I am not sure how much I've shared about before. I guess today is the day to share about those things. Mental Illness.
So, I know I blog pretty frequently about substance abuse and my own recovery from alcoholism. I sometimes write about my own struggles with depression. I dont think I write often about what it is like to live with a family member that has BiPolar Disorder. I actually hate the words, the diagnosis, the title and pretty much everything else that goes along with this insidious disease. What I think I hate the most is that you can't see it. When someone gets sick with diabetes you can test their blood sugar, you can read the numbers, you can help them change thier diet or take insulin. With this, and all mental health problems, family members are left trying to sort thru the emotional baggage of mental illness, denial, and (if you are like me) then you are in a nearly constant state of trying to figure out what is real.
When they said this was it them or their illness talking? When they did this was it them or their disease? And, by the way, how do we separate people from their illnesses when thier illnesses often seem to define their personality? I strange question maybe from someone who identifies herself as an alcoholic.
I am struggling. Can you hear me? Sitting here. Typing to myself, worrying, sorting thru memories, phone calls, events and trying to decipher the code that will help me understand just where this disease stops and my own Dad starts. I want to understand it but I it defies all of my attempts. All I am left with is the DSM defintions, symptoms, and prescriptions.
The DSM does not, for example, say what to do when your Dad is so depressed he wont get out of bed. It doesnt say what to do when he is so manic he calls and yells at you--saying things that are insensitive at best. I tell myself this is just his disease. I talk to my therapist, my mom, my sister, my husband. I tell myself this is not about me. I tell myself this is not my fault. I tell myself I cannot fix this.
Nothing I tell myself sinks in. I am lost, alone, and without one parent. I sit and wait for him to come back. Sometimes he does. Underneath the Lithium haze, behind the Imimpramine glitter, somewhere there is my Dad. The man who taught me to ride a bike in my backyard, the man who used to buy me hot chocolate at Dunkin Donuts and let me sit at the counter with him on early Saturday mornings,the man brought me to his office and let me sit with his secretary and learn to type, the man who was alive, funny, real. This was before the meds--maybe before the disease--this was a different time.
I dont have to tell you that I am older now. That of course things are different and of course I cant expect things to be the same. I dont have to tell you that it hurts or is confusing or even that it can be all consuming if I let it. I guess all I have to do is accept the pain and take it one day at a time. I lean on the AA slogans harder then before. I rework the same program that helps me stay sober. I remember that it is his disease talking not him. I truge along. I miss my Dad. xxK
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Green Bottles of Poison
Hi All,
It has been so long since I have found the time to write. Interestingly, I have spent a lot of time thinking. I had a conversation last night that openend my eyes again to how dangerous it can be for me to think my way into feeling better or doing better. I tend to end up in the same grooves that got me a chair in AA in the first place. It is interesing how easy it is to slide back into thinking the same old way. Even when I think I am really aware and working hard to change--when I am not paying attention--my brain just wants to go back to that thinking.
The indicator with me is an obsession with Self. They dont call it the bondage of self for nothing. It is true bondage to be stuck inside my own head, with my own distorted thinking, and my own old self-made solutions. No, not the drinking solution--but the isolating solution, or the shutting down solution, or the feeling sorry for myself solution, or the thinking i am better then or different solution. Terminal uniqueness. I hate being so predictably dysfunctional. Even my dysfunction wants to be special and different.
Despite the fact that my feelings feel quite unique and special to me, many or almost all of my characther defects link up quite nicely to the disease of alcoholism. A disease that I hope we all understand is only partly to do with the actual drinking and very much to do with the thinking that allows this self indulgence and self destruction to continue. My negative thoughts are really dangerous to me and my sobriety. Much more dangerous then I'd like to admit. My negative thoughts really are as dangerous to me (in the long term) as a bottle of Kettle One is sitting on my shelf (in the short term). At least the Kettle One bottle I am aware of and would probably do something about--either give away or pour out etc. The negative thinking is different bc it sort of settles in when I am not paying attention.
Next thing I know I am back isolating, feeling different, and cloaked in a melancholy that I believe is unique to me but really is not at all. Perhaps I should start to imagine my negative thinking as a big green bottle of poison (not Tanqueray but close). When I hear that familiar voice telling me no one really likes me or how what I just said was stupid or how I am worthless then I could visualize the big green bottle and go into action to break it. I need to get rid of that poison with the same intensity as the Kettle One on the shelf--call someone and get some help with those voices before they convince me that they are actually a part of me. What I have learned is that my disease can sound just like me--so much so that I sometimes mistake my disease talking to me for my true self. The difference is not tone but content. My true self does not tell me I am worthless or bad because deep down I know I am not either of those things.
For today, I am again exposing these voices to you all and to myself as I write--then I watch them shrivel up and disintegrate into the air like paper I burned up. I can give those voices credit for a nice try but I am lucky to have too many people on my side now. Those voices dont stand a chance when I have so many other smarter voices to listen to now. xxk
It has been so long since I have found the time to write. Interestingly, I have spent a lot of time thinking. I had a conversation last night that openend my eyes again to how dangerous it can be for me to think my way into feeling better or doing better. I tend to end up in the same grooves that got me a chair in AA in the first place. It is interesing how easy it is to slide back into thinking the same old way. Even when I think I am really aware and working hard to change--when I am not paying attention--my brain just wants to go back to that thinking.
The indicator with me is an obsession with Self. They dont call it the bondage of self for nothing. It is true bondage to be stuck inside my own head, with my own distorted thinking, and my own old self-made solutions. No, not the drinking solution--but the isolating solution, or the shutting down solution, or the feeling sorry for myself solution, or the thinking i am better then or different solution. Terminal uniqueness. I hate being so predictably dysfunctional. Even my dysfunction wants to be special and different.
Despite the fact that my feelings feel quite unique and special to me, many or almost all of my characther defects link up quite nicely to the disease of alcoholism. A disease that I hope we all understand is only partly to do with the actual drinking and very much to do with the thinking that allows this self indulgence and self destruction to continue. My negative thoughts are really dangerous to me and my sobriety. Much more dangerous then I'd like to admit. My negative thoughts really are as dangerous to me (in the long term) as a bottle of Kettle One is sitting on my shelf (in the short term). At least the Kettle One bottle I am aware of and would probably do something about--either give away or pour out etc. The negative thinking is different bc it sort of settles in when I am not paying attention.
Next thing I know I am back isolating, feeling different, and cloaked in a melancholy that I believe is unique to me but really is not at all. Perhaps I should start to imagine my negative thinking as a big green bottle of poison (not Tanqueray but close). When I hear that familiar voice telling me no one really likes me or how what I just said was stupid or how I am worthless then I could visualize the big green bottle and go into action to break it. I need to get rid of that poison with the same intensity as the Kettle One on the shelf--call someone and get some help with those voices before they convince me that they are actually a part of me. What I have learned is that my disease can sound just like me--so much so that I sometimes mistake my disease talking to me for my true self. The difference is not tone but content. My true self does not tell me I am worthless or bad because deep down I know I am not either of those things.
For today, I am again exposing these voices to you all and to myself as I write--then I watch them shrivel up and disintegrate into the air like paper I burned up. I can give those voices credit for a nice try but I am lucky to have too many people on my side now. Those voices dont stand a chance when I have so many other smarter voices to listen to now. xxk
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
the student becomes the teacher
hi all, no posts since Irene hit this area and caused some pretty serious flooding. our house was just fine but many of our neighbors are still not back to normal. all of this loss has really caused me to reflect--on everything. on what is important and what is not.
last night at work a young girl that i work with says--i just dont understand what the point of life is? we grow up, we pay bills and taxes, we die. i wanted to say something. i wanted to offer an opinion, or some possibilities even but i didnt. i just sat there and thought. shit, i get why she (at 16) does not understand what she thinks life is about but what is my excuse? what is the point of all of this?
i had in my head a whole assortment of thoughts. some buddhist stuff about how pain and suffering are part of life and how we can choose how we respond to it--what we make of it. i thought about some spiritual stuff like the purpose of life is to love. mainly though i just sat there and let the question float around us. a few other kids had similar questions and thoughts. it was hot and rainy. the generators were still on from the power outage from the hurricane. everyone was tired including me. in that moment things felt pretty grim.
about ten minutes later we left that building and saw the main lights on. the power had come back. everyone started clapping and was happy. grateful. myself included. the question though has stayed with me. what is my life's purpose? and how important is it to remember it when it is dark and challenging? my guess is that knowing ourselves and our life's purpose is very important.
i remember a book on addiction that said the people relapse for 2 reasons 1)denial creeps in and they convince themselves they no longer have a problem or 2) they know they have a problem but they lose the desire to stay sober. essentially, they feel hopeless about life and give up trying. the point of this was to illustrate how important spirituality is to recovery--we need to find meaning in life so that we dont give up on ourselves and retreat into the warm welcome numbness of hiding in alcohol or drugs or food or gambling or wherever else we like to hide.
so today i have committed myself to meditating and developing more of sense of my own purpose. more of a sense of what i am meant to do and what i can give back. sobriety is one gift that we really only get to keep by giving away. xxk
last night at work a young girl that i work with says--i just dont understand what the point of life is? we grow up, we pay bills and taxes, we die. i wanted to say something. i wanted to offer an opinion, or some possibilities even but i didnt. i just sat there and thought. shit, i get why she (at 16) does not understand what she thinks life is about but what is my excuse? what is the point of all of this?
i had in my head a whole assortment of thoughts. some buddhist stuff about how pain and suffering are part of life and how we can choose how we respond to it--what we make of it. i thought about some spiritual stuff like the purpose of life is to love. mainly though i just sat there and let the question float around us. a few other kids had similar questions and thoughts. it was hot and rainy. the generators were still on from the power outage from the hurricane. everyone was tired including me. in that moment things felt pretty grim.
about ten minutes later we left that building and saw the main lights on. the power had come back. everyone started clapping and was happy. grateful. myself included. the question though has stayed with me. what is my life's purpose? and how important is it to remember it when it is dark and challenging? my guess is that knowing ourselves and our life's purpose is very important.
i remember a book on addiction that said the people relapse for 2 reasons 1)denial creeps in and they convince themselves they no longer have a problem or 2) they know they have a problem but they lose the desire to stay sober. essentially, they feel hopeless about life and give up trying. the point of this was to illustrate how important spirituality is to recovery--we need to find meaning in life so that we dont give up on ourselves and retreat into the warm welcome numbness of hiding in alcohol or drugs or food or gambling or wherever else we like to hide.
so today i have committed myself to meditating and developing more of sense of my own purpose. more of a sense of what i am meant to do and what i can give back. sobriety is one gift that we really only get to keep by giving away. xxk
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
grace, dignity, and my ego
hi all,
today was a tough day at work for me. i made a mistake on friday--not a huge mistake but a mistake none the less and then i added to my own trouble but not admitting it straight away. the reason i didnt admit it right away is that i thought i was right. i was digging my heels in about being right when i was actually wrong. it sucks being wrong but being wrong when you really think you are right is the worst of all. i spent all weekend sort of mulling it over. i was initially angry. then more angry. then quitting. then just never going back. then writing a mean letter. then...then...i just stopped. i stopped thinking about it. i put it on hold. i let it sink in.
i went to work on monday. i tried to just be open. think clearly. stay strong but take ownership and be dignified. i tried not to act defensive or like a mad child. and it actually worked. i admitted my mistake. i apologized. i reflected on why i thought i hesitated to admit my mistake (my big fat ego who just loves to be right) and then i said i was sorry and that i would try to not let that mistake happen again. the result was not ground breaking but i did feel better and the situation seemed to improve. i felt that i had for once in my life accepted responsibility but not gone overboard. i mean i took ownership of my part but not anyone else's. also, i didnt feel scared or intimidated or bad. i felt like a strong and centered woman. not a girl but a woman.
i know that may sound silly considering i am 37 years old but the truth is that i dont always find it easy to actually use or own my power. i give it away all over the place when i am not paying attention. today, i paid attention. i kept my power. i was not afraid of it. i was not afraid at all. i learned a lesson tonite about mistakes and dignity and being an adult. it felt good to be an adult doing the right thing in front of kids who dont often see adults doing that or even trying to. this feeling of being proud of myself has been arriving more frequently lately as i work harder to be strong and real.
i am working on my body and my mind. i am eating right or trying to. i am exercising some--doing yoga mostly and trying to be aware of my body and breathing. i feel like finally i am learning how to be the person that i always wanted to be. i hope you are learning to be who you want to be too. i hope you are learning and not giving up and making mistakes and starting again. i hope we can all do this together. maybe just maybe we'll end up proud of ourselves...xx
today was a tough day at work for me. i made a mistake on friday--not a huge mistake but a mistake none the less and then i added to my own trouble but not admitting it straight away. the reason i didnt admit it right away is that i thought i was right. i was digging my heels in about being right when i was actually wrong. it sucks being wrong but being wrong when you really think you are right is the worst of all. i spent all weekend sort of mulling it over. i was initially angry. then more angry. then quitting. then just never going back. then writing a mean letter. then...then...i just stopped. i stopped thinking about it. i put it on hold. i let it sink in.
i went to work on monday. i tried to just be open. think clearly. stay strong but take ownership and be dignified. i tried not to act defensive or like a mad child. and it actually worked. i admitted my mistake. i apologized. i reflected on why i thought i hesitated to admit my mistake (my big fat ego who just loves to be right) and then i said i was sorry and that i would try to not let that mistake happen again. the result was not ground breaking but i did feel better and the situation seemed to improve. i felt that i had for once in my life accepted responsibility but not gone overboard. i mean i took ownership of my part but not anyone else's. also, i didnt feel scared or intimidated or bad. i felt like a strong and centered woman. not a girl but a woman.
i know that may sound silly considering i am 37 years old but the truth is that i dont always find it easy to actually use or own my power. i give it away all over the place when i am not paying attention. today, i paid attention. i kept my power. i was not afraid of it. i was not afraid at all. i learned a lesson tonite about mistakes and dignity and being an adult. it felt good to be an adult doing the right thing in front of kids who dont often see adults doing that or even trying to. this feeling of being proud of myself has been arriving more frequently lately as i work harder to be strong and real.
i am working on my body and my mind. i am eating right or trying to. i am exercising some--doing yoga mostly and trying to be aware of my body and breathing. i feel like finally i am learning how to be the person that i always wanted to be. i hope you are learning to be who you want to be too. i hope you are learning and not giving up and making mistakes and starting again. i hope we can all do this together. maybe just maybe we'll end up proud of ourselves...xx
Thursday, July 28, 2011
the real k
anyway, so today i had coffee with an old friend. i missed her so much it made me want to cry seeing her. it was so much fun to just talk. it made me think about healthy relationships and how easy it is to know when things are right because they feel right. you leave a good friend and feel happy. you go to yoga and leave feeling strong, clear, good. good and healthy things actually make me feel good and...yes, healthy. it is unfamiliar territory for me sometimes but it is starting to be easier for me to connect the dots, do the math. doing the right thing and being with people who also do the right thing feels so fucking good.
i used to not think that. i used to only relate to people not doing the right thing. secrets. drama. mystery. etc. give me someone cheating on their boyfriend, husband, someone hating their job, someone hating their life and i immmediately and instantly liked this person. truth be told i am not sure i liked them or just liked how i felt around them. i.e. normal. their insanity mirrored my own and it felt comfortable to be around--it felt exhilirating--the way that roller coaster rides do--only maybe better. when i was drinking i craved this adrenaline fueled relationship, friendship, life. it felt just so right to feel wrong. i didnt get it at all. i thought i had it all figured out.
it took a long time for me to get this. but i am going to tell you here. it is not more fun to use drugs and drink then it is to be sober. you dont feel happier or better using then you do sober. i guess you might think you are having more fun, and maybe there were times on martini 3 that i thought i was happy but here is the trick--i was not actually happy. when i woke up the next day--happiness was nowhere to be found. you dont find happiness when you cant remember where you were, what you said, or who you talked to. you cant find it bc it is not there.
so, if any of you who are reading this are drinking. are thinking of stopping. or are thinking of starting. take it from me that happiness really is the byproduct of right action. i heard it in AA 7 years ago. wrote it on yellow post its and posted that shit all over my apt. i had that phrase everywhere--and still today i return to it. i am doing the right thing and...yes, i am sort of, well, happy. i hope you are too. xxk
i used to not think that. i used to only relate to people not doing the right thing. secrets. drama. mystery. etc. give me someone cheating on their boyfriend, husband, someone hating their job, someone hating their life and i immmediately and instantly liked this person. truth be told i am not sure i liked them or just liked how i felt around them. i.e. normal. their insanity mirrored my own and it felt comfortable to be around--it felt exhilirating--the way that roller coaster rides do--only maybe better. when i was drinking i craved this adrenaline fueled relationship, friendship, life. it felt just so right to feel wrong. i didnt get it at all. i thought i had it all figured out.
it took a long time for me to get this. but i am going to tell you here. it is not more fun to use drugs and drink then it is to be sober. you dont feel happier or better using then you do sober. i guess you might think you are having more fun, and maybe there were times on martini 3 that i thought i was happy but here is the trick--i was not actually happy. when i woke up the next day--happiness was nowhere to be found. you dont find happiness when you cant remember where you were, what you said, or who you talked to. you cant find it bc it is not there.
so, if any of you who are reading this are drinking. are thinking of stopping. or are thinking of starting. take it from me that happiness really is the byproduct of right action. i heard it in AA 7 years ago. wrote it on yellow post its and posted that shit all over my apt. i had that phrase everywhere--and still today i return to it. i am doing the right thing and...yes, i am sort of, well, happy. i hope you are too. xxk
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
You heard it first here
Today is Tuesday. I managed to write yesterday despite feeling so boxed up and tight and closed that it took effort and some luck to get a single word out. Today is the opposite. Today I feel more open. More ready to face things. I looked outside this morning at the Hydrangeas. They dared me to be sad, to feel sorry for myself, to feel inadequate--while still taking them in. Of course they won. Sitting there looking at the plump angels play with the big insane blueness behind them--all of them blooming for me. All of my gifts in front of me. The Universe seemed to be saying--Is it really that bad? Is life really hard or really easy? Only I get to decide. Today I choose easy. Today I choose faith in the dirt, in the rain, in the babies with their sticky hot bodies, and in the people, my people--wandering around here, like me, and like him, confused, trying, being ok, just for another day, hanging on as the earth spins around. xx
Box of Darkness and Other Gifts
Hi All. Yes, it has been a long time. Summer is here and life is busy. Things are going ok. I have been working more and going to meetings and being in the sun and playing w/ the kids and basically enjoying the ease that warm weather and sunshine brings to the Catskills. Last night I got some scary news about a family member. It got me twisted up good. All of my fears resurfaced. Many bigger and scarier then before. So I am writing about them I guess. My fears. My fear of losing people that I love. One person. My fear of not being in control. I'm not. My fear of making mistakes. I do. My fear of not being able to protect my children from my mistakes, from pain, from life. I can't.
I sit here. Typing. Afraid. Alone. Not alone. Connected. Then disconnected. Moment to moment. Changing. Thoughts racing by like clouds. One then the other moving so fast and then seeming to not move at all. I vascillate between feeling empowered and totally powerless. I dont understand what I am supposed to do or how. I wait for answers. I act anyway. I try. I hold my baby boy. I feel his plump arms and legs. His solid body and smell is sweaty hair. I feel connected and alive and ok. I feel like crying. I cant cry. I just hold him. I hold him and wonder what will happen next.
I sit here. Typing. Afraid. Alone. Not alone. Connected. Then disconnected. Moment to moment. Changing. Thoughts racing by like clouds. One then the other moving so fast and then seeming to not move at all. I vascillate between feeling empowered and totally powerless. I dont understand what I am supposed to do or how. I wait for answers. I act anyway. I try. I hold my baby boy. I feel his plump arms and legs. His solid body and smell is sweaty hair. I feel connected and alive and ok. I feel like crying. I cant cry. I just hold him. I hold him and wonder what will happen next.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
writing again
hi all, now that i am done school i am finding the energy and time to write again. usually i am writing after i work. just to fill you in, i work at a residential rehab for teens and usually i work at night. anyway, tonite was a good night. nothing bad happened and a few good things happened. i got thinking on my way home (which was beautiful bc of full moon) about maybe trying to make it work there. so instead of looking for a new place to work that maybe i would want to try to make it work at this place. i started my usual dreaming up redecorating, remodeling, restaffing, retraining etc. i started thinking that maybe i should actually talk to someone there about my thoughts. i mean worst case scenario they dont like them. it is funny how so much of what i think and dream--i just discard by the wayside assuming it is impossible when maybe it is not.
i got thinking also about how helping kids with substance abuse problems is so healing. i wondered what it would be like to have adults new in recovery workign with kids? or recovering with them. i know it would be messy but i wonder if it might not also be inspiring and help people feel hopeful--a feeling that is so important for all recovery--right? hope. such a simple word but one that is not always easy to ignite in people, particularly in people who feel physically awful, and may or may not have ruined some or all of their closest relationships.
i read that Dr Bob said that the foundation of AA was love and service. sometimes it seems we've strayed so far from that kind of simplicity. if we could just focus on love and service--maybe just maybe we really all will be ok. another night i end writing and not drinking. happy and not sad. more ok then not ok. miracles do happen. xxK
i got thinking also about how helping kids with substance abuse problems is so healing. i wondered what it would be like to have adults new in recovery workign with kids? or recovering with them. i know it would be messy but i wonder if it might not also be inspiring and help people feel hopeful--a feeling that is so important for all recovery--right? hope. such a simple word but one that is not always easy to ignite in people, particularly in people who feel physically awful, and may or may not have ruined some or all of their closest relationships.
i read that Dr Bob said that the foundation of AA was love and service. sometimes it seems we've strayed so far from that kind of simplicity. if we could just focus on love and service--maybe just maybe we really all will be ok. another night i end writing and not drinking. happy and not sad. more ok then not ok. miracles do happen. xxK
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
...
Hi all. Just home from work which was ok. Spent time talking to kids at work about how being fake and getting along with people you dont like are different things. Spent next 1.5h wondering if this is actually true. Spent entire ride home rethinking my career choices, my life, and what it means to be "in recovery." Had same feeling that I usaully do that it is complicated and that we cant spend every minute of our days happy and content but I admit to wondering if my endless self-analysis isnt part of the problem. Had conversation today where I had to admit that sometimes my continual obsession w/ myself, my thoughts, my recovery, my life, my philosophy, my lack of philosophy, my non-religion, my spirituality or not, my stance on psychotropic meds, my new meds, my old meds, the difference in meds, the possibility i dont need meds, my family history, my family story, my family in general etc is the problem. Then realize that over simplifying my life to one "problem" is part of the ongoing problem.
Then I re-read the above and cant believe that this is a recovery blog and I continually sound unstable and just downright weird. I realize my last post was a letter to my therapist which I cant send to him but somehow can publish to the universe no problem. I dotn want to mislead anyone into thinking that everyone in recovery has this many contridictory thoughts. Many dont. I dont want anyone to think that if you get sober you have analyze yourself constantly. You dont. Many people seem happy or happier in fact that dont do this so much. So the dislcaimer is that I have always been like this. I have more clarity sober so I think the results are better but generally this is me.
I hope I dont freak you out if you are reading and not sure about recovery. My life is amazing, precious, mundane, fucked up, and then perfect all at once and most of the time. I keep thinking that I'll find the right book, pill, spiritual guru, tea, friend, job that will somehow end the searching but I have moments (like tonite) where I realize that deep down I have to admit to knowing that there is no one solution to life. That life is both simple and complex--that recovery is the same, relatioships the same, parenting is the same. The trick for me is to know this and hold it all at once---the simple with the complex, the good with the bad, the contedness with the ambition. To just hold onto it all and feel it and see it and not be afraid. Heres to another sober night. Thanks for sharing it with me. xxK
Then I re-read the above and cant believe that this is a recovery blog and I continually sound unstable and just downright weird. I realize my last post was a letter to my therapist which I cant send to him but somehow can publish to the universe no problem. I dotn want to mislead anyone into thinking that everyone in recovery has this many contridictory thoughts. Many dont. I dont want anyone to think that if you get sober you have analyze yourself constantly. You dont. Many people seem happy or happier in fact that dont do this so much. So the dislcaimer is that I have always been like this. I have more clarity sober so I think the results are better but generally this is me.
I hope I dont freak you out if you are reading and not sure about recovery. My life is amazing, precious, mundane, fucked up, and then perfect all at once and most of the time. I keep thinking that I'll find the right book, pill, spiritual guru, tea, friend, job that will somehow end the searching but I have moments (like tonite) where I realize that deep down I have to admit to knowing that there is no one solution to life. That life is both simple and complex--that recovery is the same, relatioships the same, parenting is the same. The trick for me is to know this and hold it all at once---the simple with the complex, the good with the bad, the contedness with the ambition. To just hold onto it all and feel it and see it and not be afraid. Heres to another sober night. Thanks for sharing it with me. xxK
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Dear Tom
On the off chance that you--(my old counselor from VT who guided me thru 5 yrs of sobriety) ever reads this blog--this letter is for you...
Dear Tom,
I just wanted to say thank you for helping me learn how to be a healthy person. I wanted to thank you for never cancelling our appointments, for never laughing at me, or making me feel bad about things I have done or wanted to do. I want to thank you for helping me evaluate my thinking. I want to thank you for not telling me what to do and for making me feel strong and smart and independent. Mostly though I just want to thank you for reminding me each and every session that I was ok and that I was getting stronger. I still think of you often and hear your voice telling me positive things about myself. Sometimes it makes me laugh out loud bc it feels like a Woody Allen movie with my therapist actually living in my head. For the record, I have thought many times about calling you or writing but somehow that feels invasive or wrong or just too hard.
Tonite I finished the education portion of being a certified substance abouse counselor in NY state. I hope someday I can help other people like you helped me.
All the best to you,
Karen
Dear Tom,
I just wanted to say thank you for helping me learn how to be a healthy person. I wanted to thank you for never cancelling our appointments, for never laughing at me, or making me feel bad about things I have done or wanted to do. I want to thank you for helping me evaluate my thinking. I want to thank you for not telling me what to do and for making me feel strong and smart and independent. Mostly though I just want to thank you for reminding me each and every session that I was ok and that I was getting stronger. I still think of you often and hear your voice telling me positive things about myself. Sometimes it makes me laugh out loud bc it feels like a Woody Allen movie with my therapist actually living in my head. For the record, I have thought many times about calling you or writing but somehow that feels invasive or wrong or just too hard.
Tonite I finished the education portion of being a certified substance abouse counselor in NY state. I hope someday I can help other people like you helped me.
All the best to you,
Karen
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Not a higher power--a wider power...
Just for the record the title of this blog is not mine--I mean I didnt think of it myself. I heard it at a meeting and I fell in love with the idea. This little/big idea really solved a huge dilemma for me. I have always hated the idea of higher power. It just felt weird and wrong to me. The idea of a wider power--a power that runs thru us and connects us all--that is an idea I can get behind. Also, it makes me feel good to think about spirtuality this way--as a force that does not divide us but connects us.
This past Sunday I went to a meeting that is quickly becoming better then therapy for me. The person who was speaking talked about how he never wants to drink or do drugs again bc he wants to feel all of his life (i am paraphrasing here)--feel all of his feelings the highs and the lows. He said he didnt want to dull the feelings with drugs or alcohol. This idea also really helped me. For some reason my brain likes to tell me that alcohol or drugs somehow enhances feelings but the reality is that, for me, they do not do this at all. They distort, numb, twist and basically change everything. My sense of wanting to "enhance" is actually just me trying to control my feelings for the good or the bad. It is sick thinking. Old thinking. Familiar thinking.
Sometimes I hate how twisted I can still get. I wish I could be a different person--a person who is and appears highly together. A person who never looks undone. A person who never is undone. I think about who I really am. A person who is trying to be a good person. At the meeting this man talked about wanting one thing in life--to just be a good person. I am not sure why but I loved this idea. Of jsut wanting to be good. Of just wanting to do the right thing.
It is hard sometimes these changes. SOmetimes I just feel weird and I miss the parties, the recklessness, the odd mix of elation and despair--but of course I do. I am basically hard wired to miss those things. And it is ok. It is ok to miss things that were bad for me, people that were bad for me. It is ok to remember who I used to be--as long as I stay who I am... xxK
This past Sunday I went to a meeting that is quickly becoming better then therapy for me. The person who was speaking talked about how he never wants to drink or do drugs again bc he wants to feel all of his life (i am paraphrasing here)--feel all of his feelings the highs and the lows. He said he didnt want to dull the feelings with drugs or alcohol. This idea also really helped me. For some reason my brain likes to tell me that alcohol or drugs somehow enhances feelings but the reality is that, for me, they do not do this at all. They distort, numb, twist and basically change everything. My sense of wanting to "enhance" is actually just me trying to control my feelings for the good or the bad. It is sick thinking. Old thinking. Familiar thinking.
Sometimes I hate how twisted I can still get. I wish I could be a different person--a person who is and appears highly together. A person who never looks undone. A person who never is undone. I think about who I really am. A person who is trying to be a good person. At the meeting this man talked about wanting one thing in life--to just be a good person. I am not sure why but I loved this idea. Of jsut wanting to be good. Of just wanting to do the right thing.
It is hard sometimes these changes. SOmetimes I just feel weird and I miss the parties, the recklessness, the odd mix of elation and despair--but of course I do. I am basically hard wired to miss those things. And it is ok. It is ok to miss things that were bad for me, people that were bad for me. It is ok to remember who I used to be--as long as I stay who I am... xxK
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Memorial Day Wknd
Ok, so here it is. The truth. Unabridged. Memorial Day weekend makes me want to drink. Not always but usually. I know all of the stuff that you can say back to me about how it is a miracle that I dont always want to drink, how I should be grateful, how lucky I am that I got the gift of recovery. All of this is true. I am lucky. I am grateful. I still want a drink sometimes. Ok, not a drink. Many drinks. Memorial Day makes me want to be at a picnic somewhere very rustic and preppy and wear navy blue and bright yellow and drink white wine and bbq. Memorial Day makes me want to be near the Ocean and drink beer, really cold in bright red big plastic cups and smoke cigarettes and be selfish and self absorbed and sun burned and wear jean shorts and flip flops. Memorial Day wknd makes me nostalgic. This nostalgia is interesting because what I am nostalgic for I am not sure I ever really had. A nice crisp buzz that didnt turn sloppy, ugly, embarassing or drunk. A drink or two. Once again I fall prey to every alcholics worst enemy--the idea of being a normal drinker and enjoying alcohol without any consequences. I could feel relaxed, giggly, warm all over and then just stop drinking. I mourn this idea nearly every early summer and it is sad and hard and stupid all at once.
Being self centered I admit to sometimes thinking about just going for it. I tell myself that I'd get back to recovery because I was never that self destructive anyway. I tell myself that I would just take a little free ride. Blame it on my disease and then return to my life humbled, with that glass of wine, shot of tequila, cold Stella, glass of Johnny Walker Black-- out of my system and move on. A good story to tell. I tell myself I'd be more interesting. I say--all alcholics relapse at some point. I imagine my own story revised with a wknd or week long relapse inserted for drama and credibility. I imagine myself stronger and more sober following my research. I dont imagine the embarassment, hurt, pain, shame, low self esteem, sickness, and then all of the other awful potentials the scenario could cause. I dont imagine that ever. I am a good alcoholic. I keep it simple. I dont imagine that that drink could be the end forever of my sobriety. I dont imagine that I might try over and over after that to stay sober and in the process destroy my family, my friends, my life. I dont imagine the real thing. I gloss it over, make it pretty, keep it simple.
After I am done making myself crazy--I tell you all. I see all of my distortions. I feel sorry for myself. Then, as usual, I stop. I look around. I get a small little glimmer of hope...I think about how I will talk to someone at the meeting tonite abotu this. I think, yes, I can have a cigarette if I really want. I think yes, I can have a drink if I really want. I remind myself that no one has taken anything away from me. I remind myself that all of my choices are mine--to make or not. I remind myself that sobriety is freedom. I remember that when I drink--I dont get to decide. I feel lucky. I feel grateful. I dont want to give up my freedom. It is easy to take for granted because I've had it now for a while but it is also easy to lose. I dont want to go back to needing to pick restaurants, friends, sports, hotels, vacations, jobs based on my ability to drink or not.
So, for today--I choose not to drink. Just for today, I choose to keep my choices. To maintain my freedom. I choose to embrace my sometimes hard, sometimes easy, sometimes complicated, sometimes sad, often happy and generally good life. One day at a time--I think I'll make it thru another Memorial Day Weekend. xxK
Being self centered I admit to sometimes thinking about just going for it. I tell myself that I'd get back to recovery because I was never that self destructive anyway. I tell myself that I would just take a little free ride. Blame it on my disease and then return to my life humbled, with that glass of wine, shot of tequila, cold Stella, glass of Johnny Walker Black-- out of my system and move on. A good story to tell. I tell myself I'd be more interesting. I say--all alcholics relapse at some point. I imagine my own story revised with a wknd or week long relapse inserted for drama and credibility. I imagine myself stronger and more sober following my research. I dont imagine the embarassment, hurt, pain, shame, low self esteem, sickness, and then all of the other awful potentials the scenario could cause. I dont imagine that ever. I am a good alcoholic. I keep it simple. I dont imagine that that drink could be the end forever of my sobriety. I dont imagine that I might try over and over after that to stay sober and in the process destroy my family, my friends, my life. I dont imagine the real thing. I gloss it over, make it pretty, keep it simple.
After I am done making myself crazy--I tell you all. I see all of my distortions. I feel sorry for myself. Then, as usual, I stop. I look around. I get a small little glimmer of hope...I think about how I will talk to someone at the meeting tonite abotu this. I think, yes, I can have a cigarette if I really want. I think yes, I can have a drink if I really want. I remind myself that no one has taken anything away from me. I remind myself that all of my choices are mine--to make or not. I remind myself that sobriety is freedom. I remember that when I drink--I dont get to decide. I feel lucky. I feel grateful. I dont want to give up my freedom. It is easy to take for granted because I've had it now for a while but it is also easy to lose. I dont want to go back to needing to pick restaurants, friends, sports, hotels, vacations, jobs based on my ability to drink or not.
So, for today--I choose not to drink. Just for today, I choose to keep my choices. To maintain my freedom. I choose to embrace my sometimes hard, sometimes easy, sometimes complicated, sometimes sad, often happy and generally good life. One day at a time--I think I'll make it thru another Memorial Day Weekend. xxK
Friday, April 29, 2011
Seven Years later
Hi friends. It is hard to find time to write lately but here I am and I am going to give it a go. I keep wanting to write the perfect post for my 7y anniversary which has now come and gone but I just realized in this moment that perfection is an old bad habit that I need to just discard. Now. I'm honestly not even sure what it is all about except being mean to myself and procrastinating. What old bad habits they are...
So, here I am, seven years sober. I can hardly believe it. I had the opportunity last night to talk to someone who is having a hard time, struggling, living with active addiction. It gave me a lot to think about and to be grateful for. What makes some people get sober. What keeps some people drinking. No one really knows. I guess there are lots of theories and books and experts but the truth is that if anyone really knew they'd be millionaires and everyone who had alchol or drug problems would be cured. We just dont know. What I do know is about my own journey, my own struggles, and my own recovery which continues and evolves.
For me and me alone--I had to learn to love myself. I have to continue to learn to love myself every single day. I lost myself when I began drinking as a teenager. I sort of lost myself before I found myself if that makes any sense. I mean if you are drinking heavily when you are supposed to be growing up--what happens. I ended up growing around and thru my drinking like some weird tree that has to grow all contorted around another tree. The branches get all strange and moved but they grow and the grow anyway. Part of this process for me has been taking an honest look and how I grew and why. Where did I bend and twist and why. Sometimes it means trying to unbend. Sometimes it meant in the beginning having to break off some old branches that were dead anyway and just weighing me down.
It is not easy always but it is endlessly interesting, exciting, and often startling beautiful. This crazy life. I do so much better when I let it unfold. When I stop asking the people around me to be who I want or what I need. When I let them be themselves and then let myself be me free from thinking about them or what should be then I feel something remarkable. Freedom. Gratitude. A life that is powerful and full of love and grace.
Just today as I was lamenting my not enough time to write, not enough time to shower, not enough...I stopped myself. I thought about it. Shit, I could write right now while I spend all of this time thinking about why I cant. I can do anything I want. My crazy brain just likes me to feel sorry for myself, my crazy brain wants me to feel victimzed. Lucky for me there is another part of myself that is getting stronger and smarter. I am learning to outsmart myself.
I wrote today because I realized I could. All of that complaining, whining, feeling that things were not right for me to do what I wanted...I dont know where it came from but it disappeared when I started doing what I wanted. As I was writing my daughter came out and handed me a picture she had drawn of our house. I asked what kind of house is this? She said, It is our house. I said what kind of house is our house? She said, without pausing, a happy house. And that is sobriety to me.
xxk
So, here I am, seven years sober. I can hardly believe it. I had the opportunity last night to talk to someone who is having a hard time, struggling, living with active addiction. It gave me a lot to think about and to be grateful for. What makes some people get sober. What keeps some people drinking. No one really knows. I guess there are lots of theories and books and experts but the truth is that if anyone really knew they'd be millionaires and everyone who had alchol or drug problems would be cured. We just dont know. What I do know is about my own journey, my own struggles, and my own recovery which continues and evolves.
For me and me alone--I had to learn to love myself. I have to continue to learn to love myself every single day. I lost myself when I began drinking as a teenager. I sort of lost myself before I found myself if that makes any sense. I mean if you are drinking heavily when you are supposed to be growing up--what happens. I ended up growing around and thru my drinking like some weird tree that has to grow all contorted around another tree. The branches get all strange and moved but they grow and the grow anyway. Part of this process for me has been taking an honest look and how I grew and why. Where did I bend and twist and why. Sometimes it means trying to unbend. Sometimes it meant in the beginning having to break off some old branches that were dead anyway and just weighing me down.
It is not easy always but it is endlessly interesting, exciting, and often startling beautiful. This crazy life. I do so much better when I let it unfold. When I stop asking the people around me to be who I want or what I need. When I let them be themselves and then let myself be me free from thinking about them or what should be then I feel something remarkable. Freedom. Gratitude. A life that is powerful and full of love and grace.
Just today as I was lamenting my not enough time to write, not enough time to shower, not enough...I stopped myself. I thought about it. Shit, I could write right now while I spend all of this time thinking about why I cant. I can do anything I want. My crazy brain just likes me to feel sorry for myself, my crazy brain wants me to feel victimzed. Lucky for me there is another part of myself that is getting stronger and smarter. I am learning to outsmart myself.
I wrote today because I realized I could. All of that complaining, whining, feeling that things were not right for me to do what I wanted...I dont know where it came from but it disappeared when I started doing what I wanted. As I was writing my daughter came out and handed me a picture she had drawn of our house. I asked what kind of house is this? She said, It is our house. I said what kind of house is our house? She said, without pausing, a happy house. And that is sobriety to me.
xxk
Sunday, March 27, 2011
swimming back to the surface
hi friends. it has been so long since i have written anything. so much to say. it is actually hard to know where to begin and what to include. so, i stopped writing for a while because i was getting pretty depressed. that might be evident from reading this though i havent gone back and reread my old posts to see if i can see it. since this blog is essentially about my recovery, i am happy to report that despite getting gloomy and sad i remained sober and ultimately grateful throughout my time away from the blog.
what happened is that my mood seemed to get a little worse everyday in very small increments so that i really didnt realize it was a problem until i was kind of--on the bottom of my life staring up. this has never really happened to me before (in sobriety) and so i guess it caught me off guard. yes, i have struggled with worrying, anxiety, over thinking but this was more just depression. maybe all that anxiety and over thinking just got the best of me. i dont know...all i can really say is thank god for professionals and self awareness.
what i did about it was that i went to a doctor. i got (new) medecine. i got a therapist around here (despite my misgivings about anyone besides my old therapist in vermont). then i took the medecine as prescribed. then i went to the therapist as suggested. then i waited. then i began to finally sleep again...no more 1am posts. and then i began to feel as though someone had liftd a 100lb weight off of my shoulders. now i feel like there is space again between my thoughts and, yes, worries. there is room for me to move them around and insert optimism as needed or recovery or air. what it is not anymore is unmanageable.
it is hard sometimes, for me, in recovery to admit when i dont know the answers or how to get from a to b. i want to know what i need because i often do and because i like that feeling of competency and empowerment. what i learned thru this though is that it is ok to not have a clue and ok to figure it out with other people and ok for those other people to be trained professionals--who are objective, and educated, and above all kind. i honestly dont know where i'd be today without my nice family nurse practioner--who i barely knew--who made me feel normal and hopeful when i sat in her office and almost cried. also for my super smart and kind new therapist who gives me homework that makes sense and keeps me focused on how i can change the things i dont like or arent working.
mostly, though i just am just glad to be getting back to myself. it took so long to find myself thru my journey with alcohol--it is funny to think that i lost myself again and totally sober. anyway, i am well on my way back to the surface and can see and feel the light that i knew deep down was there all along. xxk
what happened is that my mood seemed to get a little worse everyday in very small increments so that i really didnt realize it was a problem until i was kind of--on the bottom of my life staring up. this has never really happened to me before (in sobriety) and so i guess it caught me off guard. yes, i have struggled with worrying, anxiety, over thinking but this was more just depression. maybe all that anxiety and over thinking just got the best of me. i dont know...all i can really say is thank god for professionals and self awareness.
what i did about it was that i went to a doctor. i got (new) medecine. i got a therapist around here (despite my misgivings about anyone besides my old therapist in vermont). then i took the medecine as prescribed. then i went to the therapist as suggested. then i waited. then i began to finally sleep again...no more 1am posts. and then i began to feel as though someone had liftd a 100lb weight off of my shoulders. now i feel like there is space again between my thoughts and, yes, worries. there is room for me to move them around and insert optimism as needed or recovery or air. what it is not anymore is unmanageable.
it is hard sometimes, for me, in recovery to admit when i dont know the answers or how to get from a to b. i want to know what i need because i often do and because i like that feeling of competency and empowerment. what i learned thru this though is that it is ok to not have a clue and ok to figure it out with other people and ok for those other people to be trained professionals--who are objective, and educated, and above all kind. i honestly dont know where i'd be today without my nice family nurse practioner--who i barely knew--who made me feel normal and hopeful when i sat in her office and almost cried. also for my super smart and kind new therapist who gives me homework that makes sense and keeps me focused on how i can change the things i dont like or arent working.
mostly, though i just am just glad to be getting back to myself. it took so long to find myself thru my journey with alcohol--it is funny to think that i lost myself again and totally sober. anyway, i am well on my way back to the surface and can see and feel the light that i knew deep down was there all along. xxk
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
codependence, hope, and accepting our own truths
another night that i find myself home and the only person awake in this house--a blessing and a curse. i hate to say i have been struggling because it really seems like struggling is all i do and write about. determined to be honest though i will continue to try to make sense of this. it has been suggested to me in the past, and more recently, that i have some codependence issues. ok, i sort of know this. i dont know it the way that i knew i was an alcoholic but i suspect it and am open to the truth that deep down this particular brand of truth may be the most painful of them yet. as i said to a friend the other day--this stuff--it almost hurts more because it feels like my identity and personality is sort of at stake. (yes, i felt this way initially about drinking too.) clinging to self destructive behavior this tight is just not a good sign...
so here i go. attempting to deal with the obsessive thinking, over thinking, analyzing, blaming, endless worrying, and basic insanity that comes with thinking too much about others and not enough about myself. i'll say it--it is overwhelming. for all of my life now, part of my personality has been to get deeply invested in romantic relationships very quickly and then to--obsess over said person until said person has made me so sick, so tired, so disappointed that i feel that i have no choice but to leave them. not before i've analyzed, criticized, and distorted said person and said relationship into a big blur of pain and confusion.
i am not sure from the outside that it looks this crazy, it might, but it also may just look like i moved on. i will state here to you all that i think it is possible that i never really moved on from anyone. of course i guess physically i did but emotionally--i dont know--i feel tethered to people still that i dont even know anymore or not really. for a very long time i thought this made me superior to other people who drew harder lines about this sort of thing but lately--i wonder where the boundary actually is and if it is even there at all.
enter current situation. marriage. hard for everyone--right? but for someone like me. fuck. the only way for me to really describe it is that it most closely resembles how i felt in 10th grade math when the teacher said--can you explain to me where you stopped understanding and i wanted to say somewhere around 8th grade. i was so lost i didnt know where or when i got lost. this is a pretty good way to describe how i feel about marriage. sometimes i feel on track, good, on top of it--healthy and happy. other days i feel as though i am not sure i even know how to get back to where i used to get it. or maybe i never did. you see the problem...
i dont trust myself. i dont trust my own interpretation of events, of discussions, or of tones of voice, facial expressions, body language. to me, most signs usually point to there is a problem. i dont mean to say that there is usually a problem though--i mean to say that i see problems where other people might see--i dont know, a bad day? i loathe this about myself. no melodrama. i really hate this abotu myself. a particularly astute and verbally inclined old boyfriend once said--you cant make me your hobby. of course i showed him that i indeed could and would. this, by the way, is not recommended to try at home.
so most jokes aside--here i am. i feel hurt, again. i feel sad, again. and this time maybe for htis first time i question how valid the thoughts that lead to those feelings really are? yes, how i feel is true but is my thinking that got me there to be trusted? i am starting to think that perhaps it is not. no answers here, just questions.
i know this--i feel better after writing this. i know for sure that i am not, nor have i ever been, broken beyond repair or recovery. i am just another person trying to make sense of this crazy world and my place in it. sometimes this feels good and sometimes it hurts. sometimes growth really hurts and a small part of me wants to curl up and hide and cry and feel sorry for myself. i wont do this though. i will force myself to have another look at this no matter how much i want to close my eyes and point my finger. for tonite--the only person who i need to worry about saving--is me. xxk
so here i go. attempting to deal with the obsessive thinking, over thinking, analyzing, blaming, endless worrying, and basic insanity that comes with thinking too much about others and not enough about myself. i'll say it--it is overwhelming. for all of my life now, part of my personality has been to get deeply invested in romantic relationships very quickly and then to--obsess over said person until said person has made me so sick, so tired, so disappointed that i feel that i have no choice but to leave them. not before i've analyzed, criticized, and distorted said person and said relationship into a big blur of pain and confusion.
i am not sure from the outside that it looks this crazy, it might, but it also may just look like i moved on. i will state here to you all that i think it is possible that i never really moved on from anyone. of course i guess physically i did but emotionally--i dont know--i feel tethered to people still that i dont even know anymore or not really. for a very long time i thought this made me superior to other people who drew harder lines about this sort of thing but lately--i wonder where the boundary actually is and if it is even there at all.
enter current situation. marriage. hard for everyone--right? but for someone like me. fuck. the only way for me to really describe it is that it most closely resembles how i felt in 10th grade math when the teacher said--can you explain to me where you stopped understanding and i wanted to say somewhere around 8th grade. i was so lost i didnt know where or when i got lost. this is a pretty good way to describe how i feel about marriage. sometimes i feel on track, good, on top of it--healthy and happy. other days i feel as though i am not sure i even know how to get back to where i used to get it. or maybe i never did. you see the problem...
i dont trust myself. i dont trust my own interpretation of events, of discussions, or of tones of voice, facial expressions, body language. to me, most signs usually point to there is a problem. i dont mean to say that there is usually a problem though--i mean to say that i see problems where other people might see--i dont know, a bad day? i loathe this about myself. no melodrama. i really hate this abotu myself. a particularly astute and verbally inclined old boyfriend once said--you cant make me your hobby. of course i showed him that i indeed could and would. this, by the way, is not recommended to try at home.
so most jokes aside--here i am. i feel hurt, again. i feel sad, again. and this time maybe for htis first time i question how valid the thoughts that lead to those feelings really are? yes, how i feel is true but is my thinking that got me there to be trusted? i am starting to think that perhaps it is not. no answers here, just questions.
i know this--i feel better after writing this. i know for sure that i am not, nor have i ever been, broken beyond repair or recovery. i am just another person trying to make sense of this crazy world and my place in it. sometimes this feels good and sometimes it hurts. sometimes growth really hurts and a small part of me wants to curl up and hide and cry and feel sorry for myself. i wont do this though. i will force myself to have another look at this no matter how much i want to close my eyes and point my finger. for tonite--the only person who i need to worry about saving--is me. xxk
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
getting lost--and then getting back on track
hi all. tonite is a weird night. i have a new teacher, have mixed feelings about work, and feel sort of all over the map. what little that was beginning to feel comfortable from my move in september seems to have turned upside down again--at least sort of.
tonite i was driving home from school and having taken a friend home was in a new part of town. i have taken this person home before and when i made this turn--i immediately felt like it was wrong. then i told myself no, the person said turn left. so i drove on for like 5 miles the entire time thinking...this is wrong. finally i turned around, went back, and corrected myself. once back on track i wondered why it took me so long to correct myself--since i knew almost immediately i was off track. i didnt trust myself though and so got had to get really far into being lost before i believed i should turn around.
i know obvious metaphor alert but i am tired and this is where i am going tonite. maybe sobriety/recovery/growth is not about not making mistakes but about trusting our intuition and correcting them as soon as we can and then not beating ourselves up later for having made them at all. i guess the real wisdom would say good job getting back on track. i know this, next time i will not make that same mistake--maybe another--but not that one. perhaps this is all we can really ask of ourselves. another sober night that ends with me learning something--even if it only to veer right at the v. xxk
tonite i was driving home from school and having taken a friend home was in a new part of town. i have taken this person home before and when i made this turn--i immediately felt like it was wrong. then i told myself no, the person said turn left. so i drove on for like 5 miles the entire time thinking...this is wrong. finally i turned around, went back, and corrected myself. once back on track i wondered why it took me so long to correct myself--since i knew almost immediately i was off track. i didnt trust myself though and so got had to get really far into being lost before i believed i should turn around.
i know obvious metaphor alert but i am tired and this is where i am going tonite. maybe sobriety/recovery/growth is not about not making mistakes but about trusting our intuition and correcting them as soon as we can and then not beating ourselves up later for having made them at all. i guess the real wisdom would say good job getting back on track. i know this, next time i will not make that same mistake--maybe another--but not that one. perhaps this is all we can really ask of ourselves. another sober night that ends with me learning something--even if it only to veer right at the v. xxk
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
as sick as our secrets
hi all. just reread last night's post. realize that i missed something important. how most people who struggle with addictions work very hard to keep it a secret. i can and should only talk about my own experience...so, that said, i know that after i stopped drinking their were some of my closest and dearest friends a little surprised. many in different but the same words told me that they felt bad, that they didnt know how bad it was, or that they didnt see it.
the amount of time and energy that drinking and then covering up my drinking took up is hard to really convey. i guess it varied. different times in my life were worse then others. but one thing was constant--no one knew how much i drank but me. i was hyper aware of how much i drank and in front of people and then how much i drank when i got home. i generally tried to keep it a little normal...i was aiming for people to think that i was a heavy social drinker...then, alone, i would get home and drink like i wanted to which in retrospect was until i passed out.
it was not always like this. i say this bc i hear people say that they dont always get drunk, they dont always pass out. i understand the desire to qualify, to contextualize, to explain each and every drink. i understandt his perfectly.
the point i wanted to make is that the secrets that alcoholics, and addicts, keep to themselves are a symptom of the disease. people around us cant and shouldnt be held responsible for seeing a truth that we ourselves are distorting. they say the truth will set you free. on AA coins it says to thine own self be true. this is the core. this is the work.
the first time i said i was an alcoholic out loud and in front of people, i cried. i did not cry bc i was sad about it or ashamed. i cried bc it felt so true. i cried because i knew i did not have to lie anymore. yes, i was scared but also i was liberated. for all of us, clean or sober, healthy or sick--there are truths that will set us free. the trick is figuring out what those truths are. maybe we know some of our truths from the beginning and maybe others we know, get scared of, push down, ignore, deny and then finally exhausted with the effort it takes to not know what we know--we give in and surrender. heres to another night i write this sober, another morning i will begin not sick and not ashamed. now that is some progress. xxk
the amount of time and energy that drinking and then covering up my drinking took up is hard to really convey. i guess it varied. different times in my life were worse then others. but one thing was constant--no one knew how much i drank but me. i was hyper aware of how much i drank and in front of people and then how much i drank when i got home. i generally tried to keep it a little normal...i was aiming for people to think that i was a heavy social drinker...then, alone, i would get home and drink like i wanted to which in retrospect was until i passed out.
it was not always like this. i say this bc i hear people say that they dont always get drunk, they dont always pass out. i understand the desire to qualify, to contextualize, to explain each and every drink. i understandt his perfectly.
the point i wanted to make is that the secrets that alcoholics, and addicts, keep to themselves are a symptom of the disease. people around us cant and shouldnt be held responsible for seeing a truth that we ourselves are distorting. they say the truth will set you free. on AA coins it says to thine own self be true. this is the core. this is the work.
the first time i said i was an alcoholic out loud and in front of people, i cried. i did not cry bc i was sad about it or ashamed. i cried bc it felt so true. i cried because i knew i did not have to lie anymore. yes, i was scared but also i was liberated. for all of us, clean or sober, healthy or sick--there are truths that will set us free. the trick is figuring out what those truths are. maybe we know some of our truths from the beginning and maybe others we know, get scared of, push down, ignore, deny and then finally exhausted with the effort it takes to not know what we know--we give in and surrender. heres to another night i write this sober, another morning i will begin not sick and not ashamed. now that is some progress. xxk
Sunday, February 6, 2011
image
hi friends. sorry for my perpetually shifting image these days. it seems my blog design is in just as much flux as my own sense of self, or maybe more. i have been trying to move closer to a design that i think accurately reflects this blog. just tonite it came to me that this blog is almost completely about being authentic and real. the real me is just into the words. i like pretty colors and design but this blog is not about any of that. it is just about my thoughts and my growth. so, here is the new old blog back. i hope it is palatable and, more importantly, i hope it is readable...
that said, tonite is super bowl sunday. i have many thoughts on this night all of which surround the loss of a dear friend of mine to suicide the day after a super bowl sunday binge gone all wrong. i dont think i've written before about my friend dave and how his death impacted me. dave was probably the most attractive man i have ever met. handsome. blonde. blue eyed. charming. a talented writer, artist, and musician. that his life ended early is all wrong, that it ended early because of crack cocaine is still devestating to me.
how dave ended up addicted to crack while many around him seemingly recreationally used was beyond me at the time. recently i have learned more and understand the mix of genetics, actual use, and social stressors that add up to equal addiction. i still remember wondering if it was ok for him to drink after coming out of rehab. i still remember thinking it didnt make sense and then hearing that he never was an alcoholic. of course we know that it was alcohol that made it so easy for him to go back to using probably marijuana and then, of course, crack.
for my part i will say that the end of dave's life may have served to help save my own. his story stayed with me thru many nights and helped me pass many trays of cocaine along--i drug i later thought may have taken me out forever if i had not already decided i would not allow myself to not learn something from his death. when i first went to AA it was his face and image that i saw in the young men who sat in the back and went in and out of the rooms.
the way i remember dave is playing the guitar on my parents deck, summertime, hot night, in pink polo button down, tan, blond hair falling over one eye, sleeves rolled up, khaki shorts--impossibly inviting. this was maybe before the crack cocaine or before i was aware of it. i think of him, of the life he could have had. of how i laughed at his stories of going to AA meetings and then out for a drink. at how he wrote me from his first rehab when i was in college and i lit a cigarette and made a gin & tonic to read the letter. the letter said that they told him that he had one of the worst crack cocaine addictions that they had ever seen. i think he was 21 at the time.
me and my friends we all drank together, basically lived together, watched each other go up and come down. i ask myself how did we miss this? then i remember that we never really saw it. we saw what he wanted us to see. the smile, the tan, the guitar. the disease, the cravings, the withdrawals--the pain...that is what people hide. they hide it because we have taught them to. the shame of addiction and, maybe, mental illness continues to keep people from asking for help and from talking about what is really happening to them--until we cant help but see it and then it seems it is often too late.
part of this blog is my attempt to encourage people to talk about addiction and recovery--not just for themselves but for the countless people who might benefit from learning they are not alone and there is hope. for myself, i'll keep on keeping on. one day at a time until i make it to the promised land. this ones for you dm--we miss you. xxk
that said, tonite is super bowl sunday. i have many thoughts on this night all of which surround the loss of a dear friend of mine to suicide the day after a super bowl sunday binge gone all wrong. i dont think i've written before about my friend dave and how his death impacted me. dave was probably the most attractive man i have ever met. handsome. blonde. blue eyed. charming. a talented writer, artist, and musician. that his life ended early is all wrong, that it ended early because of crack cocaine is still devestating to me.
how dave ended up addicted to crack while many around him seemingly recreationally used was beyond me at the time. recently i have learned more and understand the mix of genetics, actual use, and social stressors that add up to equal addiction. i still remember wondering if it was ok for him to drink after coming out of rehab. i still remember thinking it didnt make sense and then hearing that he never was an alcoholic. of course we know that it was alcohol that made it so easy for him to go back to using probably marijuana and then, of course, crack.
for my part i will say that the end of dave's life may have served to help save my own. his story stayed with me thru many nights and helped me pass many trays of cocaine along--i drug i later thought may have taken me out forever if i had not already decided i would not allow myself to not learn something from his death. when i first went to AA it was his face and image that i saw in the young men who sat in the back and went in and out of the rooms.
the way i remember dave is playing the guitar on my parents deck, summertime, hot night, in pink polo button down, tan, blond hair falling over one eye, sleeves rolled up, khaki shorts--impossibly inviting. this was maybe before the crack cocaine or before i was aware of it. i think of him, of the life he could have had. of how i laughed at his stories of going to AA meetings and then out for a drink. at how he wrote me from his first rehab when i was in college and i lit a cigarette and made a gin & tonic to read the letter. the letter said that they told him that he had one of the worst crack cocaine addictions that they had ever seen. i think he was 21 at the time.
me and my friends we all drank together, basically lived together, watched each other go up and come down. i ask myself how did we miss this? then i remember that we never really saw it. we saw what he wanted us to see. the smile, the tan, the guitar. the disease, the cravings, the withdrawals--the pain...that is what people hide. they hide it because we have taught them to. the shame of addiction and, maybe, mental illness continues to keep people from asking for help and from talking about what is really happening to them--until we cant help but see it and then it seems it is often too late.
part of this blog is my attempt to encourage people to talk about addiction and recovery--not just for themselves but for the countless people who might benefit from learning they are not alone and there is hope. for myself, i'll keep on keeping on. one day at a time until i make it to the promised land. this ones for you dm--we miss you. xxk
Thursday, February 3, 2011
goals, values, and change
hi friends. i read somewhere that the greatest predictor of what you'll do today is what you did yesterday. that said, it stands to reason that at some point in the change process you choose a day and do something different then the day before. why or how you choose that day is irrelevant almost--it is just that you did it. recovery at the core, to me, is about action. it is about actually making the change one day and then following thru the next day for one day at a time.
i learned all of this in 12 step meetings but it is applicable to everything. it seems that all change follows a similar trajectory--as, i think, do all of our failed attempts at change. the point is that in my super humble opinion we are all always in the process of changing something or being changed by something. if we are intentionally making a change, setting a goal etc then we can work on that change. sometimes though it feels to me like life on the outside is changing and i am just going along for the ride.
a more zen person might embrace the ride more readily but i seem to kick and scream the whole time demanding to know where i am going--and like a child wondering when we'll get there. i dont know if taking charge of changes in our lives makes us feel somehow more in control of the inevitable changes that happen in our life. i suspect it does which is interesting.
for myself i am working hard on breaking thru a number of different self defeating bad habits--way too much sugar, not enough exercise, and lazy parenting (i.e. allowing them my same bad habits + tv). it takes work not to beat myself down for developing these habits and even more work to change them. i am happily done with day 2 of yoga and already have a plan for day 3. fingers crossed i write and think but deep down we both know it is not about the fingers at all. it is about the real and true action which generally (at least in my life) means a real plan first.
i'll keep you posted on my progress--and rest assured--though i hate the sugar and tv and laziness i am not at all confused about how far i have come. 6 going on 7 years without a drink or drug to soften the world of this almost adult it still worth a pat on my own back. we cant do it alone, so lets not try and lets not beat ourselves up either. lets just set a goal, make a plan, and take action. here's to a healthier february for us all. xxk
i learned all of this in 12 step meetings but it is applicable to everything. it seems that all change follows a similar trajectory--as, i think, do all of our failed attempts at change. the point is that in my super humble opinion we are all always in the process of changing something or being changed by something. if we are intentionally making a change, setting a goal etc then we can work on that change. sometimes though it feels to me like life on the outside is changing and i am just going along for the ride.
a more zen person might embrace the ride more readily but i seem to kick and scream the whole time demanding to know where i am going--and like a child wondering when we'll get there. i dont know if taking charge of changes in our lives makes us feel somehow more in control of the inevitable changes that happen in our life. i suspect it does which is interesting.
for myself i am working hard on breaking thru a number of different self defeating bad habits--way too much sugar, not enough exercise, and lazy parenting (i.e. allowing them my same bad habits + tv). it takes work not to beat myself down for developing these habits and even more work to change them. i am happily done with day 2 of yoga and already have a plan for day 3. fingers crossed i write and think but deep down we both know it is not about the fingers at all. it is about the real and true action which generally (at least in my life) means a real plan first.
i'll keep you posted on my progress--and rest assured--though i hate the sugar and tv and laziness i am not at all confused about how far i have come. 6 going on 7 years without a drink or drug to soften the world of this almost adult it still worth a pat on my own back. we cant do it alone, so lets not try and lets not beat ourselves up either. lets just set a goal, make a plan, and take action. here's to a healthier february for us all. xxk
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Mistakes and learning new things
Hi All. Tonite I had to run a fake recovery group in my class (the class is to someday help me get my CASAC--certified alcohol and sub abuse counselor in NY State). Anyway, as part of the process I (or my class and I) need to learn how to run recovery groups. Tonite was my night to do it and it was hard and made me feel uncomfortable. Of course in retrospect I can think of all of the right things to say and do but in the moment it was hard. I felt somehow like I had blinders on and was unable to see the big picture of the group and all of the dynamics that come with it. Or maybe I did see the group but felt somehow powerless to effect the change that I wanted.
However you slice it, it was hard. I have never done it before and doing new things is never easy for me. I guess it is never easy for anyone but my version of the truth is that it is easy for everyone except me. I use this totally false truth to make myself feel bad for not knowing how to do things that there is no real way that I should know how to do. Despite positive feedback I still feel somewhat deflated. Not from doing a bad job per se but from not doing a f*cking fantastic out of the park job. I guess from not being flawless. This desire to be flawless screws me in so many different ways that it is actually hard to think of them all to write them.
Lets just say that in many different areas of my life I hold myself to a standard that is nearly impossible and then choose to not even try bc I know I will never be good enough.
I have worked hard to know that I do this and worked hard to overcome it. People who know me in real life would be suprised, I think, that my internal voice is pretty different from the self I put out there to the world. In other words I dont go aroudn telling everyone how crazy my inside voices actually can be. Mainly bc I now know that that initial inside crazy voice really needs to be shut down. Sometimes shutting that voice down is easy and I just ignore it and it stops. Times like tonite I know I need to shine some serious light on it and watch it scamper away.
Deep down in the very core of who I am--the K that I have been trying to get back to--I know that I am just fine. I know that I need to make mistakes in order to learn new things. I know that I am not any better or worse then anyone else. Tonite, I will take the time to feel grateful for the opportunities that my mistakes afford me--the chance to do it different the next time. Back when I was drinking there were so many opportunities to do something different that I missed. Tonite, there are jsut more chances--all of them I know will help make me stronger and wiser. Here's to progress for us all--which includes lots of mistakes and struggles--lots of chances for us to learn how to be better and do better.
Another sober night that ends with me being grateful for the chance to live in a way that I can be proud of. I hope you are living this way too. xxK
However you slice it, it was hard. I have never done it before and doing new things is never easy for me. I guess it is never easy for anyone but my version of the truth is that it is easy for everyone except me. I use this totally false truth to make myself feel bad for not knowing how to do things that there is no real way that I should know how to do. Despite positive feedback I still feel somewhat deflated. Not from doing a bad job per se but from not doing a f*cking fantastic out of the park job. I guess from not being flawless. This desire to be flawless screws me in so many different ways that it is actually hard to think of them all to write them.
Lets just say that in many different areas of my life I hold myself to a standard that is nearly impossible and then choose to not even try bc I know I will never be good enough.
I have worked hard to know that I do this and worked hard to overcome it. People who know me in real life would be suprised, I think, that my internal voice is pretty different from the self I put out there to the world. In other words I dont go aroudn telling everyone how crazy my inside voices actually can be. Mainly bc I now know that that initial inside crazy voice really needs to be shut down. Sometimes shutting that voice down is easy and I just ignore it and it stops. Times like tonite I know I need to shine some serious light on it and watch it scamper away.
Deep down in the very core of who I am--the K that I have been trying to get back to--I know that I am just fine. I know that I need to make mistakes in order to learn new things. I know that I am not any better or worse then anyone else. Tonite, I will take the time to feel grateful for the opportunities that my mistakes afford me--the chance to do it different the next time. Back when I was drinking there were so many opportunities to do something different that I missed. Tonite, there are jsut more chances--all of them I know will help make me stronger and wiser. Here's to progress for us all--which includes lots of mistakes and struggles--lots of chances for us to learn how to be better and do better.
Another sober night that ends with me being grateful for the chance to live in a way that I can be proud of. I hope you are living this way too. xxK
Thursday, January 6, 2011
safe places, 100 years, and loss
hi all. tonite i am sad. today someone once very close to me passed away. she was my great aunt mamie. my mother's father's sister to be exact. a few months ago my family went to mamie's 100th year birthday party. it was amazing to see generations of people all there to celebrate one person.
over the years i've grown away from mamie--or actually not even, more like i moved away and then grew away. it is weird how that works. how we can grow away from people just because we dont see them often and then still feel in a way like our relationship is the same. i think this only happens with special people in our lives. i am lucky to have a few people who i really dont need to see but i know they are always here with me and i know that i am there with them. they are in some small way inside of me.
i think i wrote ages ago about how my therapists voice will sometimes appear in my head--being encouraging or supportive--challenging my negative self talk or all or nothing thinking. my aunt mamie is different though bc i dont hear her voice as much as recall her home. it is hard to explain how safe and happy i felt as a child in her presence and in her home. she did not have her own children and i imagine that i was not the first child to feel the bliss of her sole attention comforting. we would sleep in her high giant bed and i would listen to her stories from when she was a young girl--growing up in that very home. at a time in my life where much was changing her home was a constant place of safety and comfort.
my aunt mamie or, to the rest of the world, mary huth was many things to many people--daughter, sister, wife, aunt, teacher but what she was to me was my mamie. i know mamie missed her family and friends most of whom had long since passed. i am glad tonite for her that she has returned to them. as for me, i know she has not really gone anywhere where i cant reach her. good night mamie. xxk
over the years i've grown away from mamie--or actually not even, more like i moved away and then grew away. it is weird how that works. how we can grow away from people just because we dont see them often and then still feel in a way like our relationship is the same. i think this only happens with special people in our lives. i am lucky to have a few people who i really dont need to see but i know they are always here with me and i know that i am there with them. they are in some small way inside of me.
i think i wrote ages ago about how my therapists voice will sometimes appear in my head--being encouraging or supportive--challenging my negative self talk or all or nothing thinking. my aunt mamie is different though bc i dont hear her voice as much as recall her home. it is hard to explain how safe and happy i felt as a child in her presence and in her home. she did not have her own children and i imagine that i was not the first child to feel the bliss of her sole attention comforting. we would sleep in her high giant bed and i would listen to her stories from when she was a young girl--growing up in that very home. at a time in my life where much was changing her home was a constant place of safety and comfort.
my aunt mamie or, to the rest of the world, mary huth was many things to many people--daughter, sister, wife, aunt, teacher but what she was to me was my mamie. i know mamie missed her family and friends most of whom had long since passed. i am glad tonite for her that she has returned to them. as for me, i know she has not really gone anywhere where i cant reach her. good night mamie. xxk
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
identity
hi all. i cant believe my title is identity. talk about heavy. if i had more coffee maybe i could be more creative? what i really want to talk about is something that happened to me yesterday. yesterday i watched a music video. the video was for life on a chain by pete yorn. it is an old song and an old video. when i watched it though i was instantly transported to a place in my life that felt very familiar. a time when i was wearing black tee shirts, ripped jeans, and lived in dive bars. i was an extreme version of myself and proud of it. i drank tequila shots, smoked marlboro lights, and thought dark beer was the answer to almost anything.
when i saw this video, heard this song, i started to think about that version of myself. i was nostalgic for her. not just for the drinking but for the not caring. i think i was nostalgic for irresponsibility. i went to work all in my own head and strange. i missed people that i knew then. i missed all sorts of strange things that seem weird to miss.
i then went to work. i didnt think about the music or the video or the ripped jeans. i spent time with girls who were living very similarly to the way i thought i missed--not that long ago. i felt their confusion, their pain, their lack of self esteem on some visceral level that maybe you can really only feel if you've been there.
i drove home from work in the dark thinking about how proud i am of those girls, of myself, of anyone who has been somewhere dark and is trying to get somewhere light. i thought about tequila shots and cigarettes. i thought about pete yorn and the old boyfriend who went with him. this is my history--these stories, memories, thoughts are a part of who i am because they are who i used to be. and in all of us here now, is who we used to be, then who we want to be, and finally who we are right now. we all have a blend of these things within us which is what makes us interesting, complicated, and unlike anyone else.
my desire for gritty bars i have left behind, sometimes with a dull ache, and other times with complete certainty. either way though it is behind. just like the pete yorn, the boyfriend, the tequila shots. on some days the past for whatever unknown reason seems interesting and on other days it seems immature and sad. how my history looks depends on where i am standing when i look. i think we all feel this way. a little hungry, angry, lonely, tired and shit we used to do sounds appealing--honestly anything thta might make us feel different sometimes sounds appealing.
here's the trick i've had to work for though--just because we feel this way does not mean that we have to do a darn thing about it. we can just feel this way. we can be aware of it. we can understand that like everyone else we too are going to remember the things we used to do. it is ok. we are ok. we are all together in this funny and sometimes confusing world of change. the only thing we can all depend on is that this too will pass. here's to another night i can remember, love we can wake up with, and to being proud of our choices for another day. xxk
when i saw this video, heard this song, i started to think about that version of myself. i was nostalgic for her. not just for the drinking but for the not caring. i think i was nostalgic for irresponsibility. i went to work all in my own head and strange. i missed people that i knew then. i missed all sorts of strange things that seem weird to miss.
i then went to work. i didnt think about the music or the video or the ripped jeans. i spent time with girls who were living very similarly to the way i thought i missed--not that long ago. i felt their confusion, their pain, their lack of self esteem on some visceral level that maybe you can really only feel if you've been there.
i drove home from work in the dark thinking about how proud i am of those girls, of myself, of anyone who has been somewhere dark and is trying to get somewhere light. i thought about tequila shots and cigarettes. i thought about pete yorn and the old boyfriend who went with him. this is my history--these stories, memories, thoughts are a part of who i am because they are who i used to be. and in all of us here now, is who we used to be, then who we want to be, and finally who we are right now. we all have a blend of these things within us which is what makes us interesting, complicated, and unlike anyone else.
my desire for gritty bars i have left behind, sometimes with a dull ache, and other times with complete certainty. either way though it is behind. just like the pete yorn, the boyfriend, the tequila shots. on some days the past for whatever unknown reason seems interesting and on other days it seems immature and sad. how my history looks depends on where i am standing when i look. i think we all feel this way. a little hungry, angry, lonely, tired and shit we used to do sounds appealing--honestly anything thta might make us feel different sometimes sounds appealing.
here's the trick i've had to work for though--just because we feel this way does not mean that we have to do a darn thing about it. we can just feel this way. we can be aware of it. we can understand that like everyone else we too are going to remember the things we used to do. it is ok. we are ok. we are all together in this funny and sometimes confusing world of change. the only thing we can all depend on is that this too will pass. here's to another night i can remember, love we can wake up with, and to being proud of our choices for another day. xxk
Sunday, January 2, 2011
new year, new goals, new start...?
hi all. another new year. 2011. is this the year that i finally figure out a way to make my life manageable? balanced? is this the year i feel together and confident. maybe, just maybe it is.
i have been meditating and despite some of my more cynical thoughts about it, i will say that it does indeed seem to help me. i have found meditating in a group to be highly helpful--i think mostly bc this keeps me from trying to meditate while trolling facebook (not a good idea but one i did actually try out). anyway, for a person who is perpetually thinking and then over thinking, the meditation thing is both necessary and then just downright painful.
i am way too far into my own head at the moment to just do free form meditation, so i have found that i need to listen to someone to medidate. i think this is called guided meditation. i need the structure. a theme that i could argue runs throughout my entire life at the moment, but i wont even go there tonite. what i have been doing is listening to meditations from the chopra center online. they are free and not long and they keep me focused and prevent me from trying to multitask during meditation. also, i really dig the chakras stuff because it gives me a framework to apply to my energy and my inbalances. also, because i am just a little flakey and this stuff appeals to me. i get that some people find it lame though and if thats you then i suggest googling gudided meditations and starting there.
so that is that. i am meditating. i am running. i am trying to apply some discipline to a life and personality that find self discipline somehow reprehensible. yes, i was that person who used to scoff at anyone who exercised, meditated, balanced their checkbook, had an organizer, bought stamps, went to bed early, got up on time etc. in other words if you were actually an adult then i took issue with you. i guess thats what adolescence do. even if they are nearly 30. so here i am at 37 learning how to be an adult for real. i know that many adults never really learn this and so i am not beating myself up or anything. i am just plodding along. trying to laugh at myself as i shed my adolescent habits at nearly 40. hope you're laughing too--at me, at yourself, at really how funny trying to recover and rebuild ourselves can be if you look at it right.
i'll leave you with my favorite AA slogan. easy does it. as my friend in bennington used to say--karen, it's the easy that does it. amen. xxk
i have been meditating and despite some of my more cynical thoughts about it, i will say that it does indeed seem to help me. i have found meditating in a group to be highly helpful--i think mostly bc this keeps me from trying to meditate while trolling facebook (not a good idea but one i did actually try out). anyway, for a person who is perpetually thinking and then over thinking, the meditation thing is both necessary and then just downright painful.
i am way too far into my own head at the moment to just do free form meditation, so i have found that i need to listen to someone to medidate. i think this is called guided meditation. i need the structure. a theme that i could argue runs throughout my entire life at the moment, but i wont even go there tonite. what i have been doing is listening to meditations from the chopra center online. they are free and not long and they keep me focused and prevent me from trying to multitask during meditation. also, i really dig the chakras stuff because it gives me a framework to apply to my energy and my inbalances. also, because i am just a little flakey and this stuff appeals to me. i get that some people find it lame though and if thats you then i suggest googling gudided meditations and starting there.
so that is that. i am meditating. i am running. i am trying to apply some discipline to a life and personality that find self discipline somehow reprehensible. yes, i was that person who used to scoff at anyone who exercised, meditated, balanced their checkbook, had an organizer, bought stamps, went to bed early, got up on time etc. in other words if you were actually an adult then i took issue with you. i guess thats what adolescence do. even if they are nearly 30. so here i am at 37 learning how to be an adult for real. i know that many adults never really learn this and so i am not beating myself up or anything. i am just plodding along. trying to laugh at myself as i shed my adolescent habits at nearly 40. hope you're laughing too--at me, at yourself, at really how funny trying to recover and rebuild ourselves can be if you look at it right.
i'll leave you with my favorite AA slogan. easy does it. as my friend in bennington used to say--karen, it's the easy that does it. amen. xxk
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