A Good Thing

My daughter went to get help.  It happened on Thursday night, when I got home from work.  She had been eating (she doesn't eat when she drinks, so when I saw the dishes in the sink, a spark of hope flickered). I went up to her room, where she was lying in bed, but awake.  I asked her how she felt.  She said, "Horrible, but I need help."  "Are you saying you'll go to that facility?" "Yes."  "Then you need to go down stairs and call Diane."  "I feel too bad."  "Then you must not want help."  (Big sigh) I left the room, and went to the kitchen. A few minutes later she came down and called.  Diane was able to get a bed (what a sad commentary that this facility holds 226 people and only one bed was vacant--so many hurting people).  She was to be at Diane's office by 11:30 the next day (Friday).  I took 1/2 a sick day.  I was still not 'exhaling' yet. Friday morning, she was still feeling bad, but we took time and packed.  At one point she did say that she thought she should get a drink because she was feeling so bad, I told her I wasn't going to argue about it, and left the room.  When I went back (about 30 minutes later) she never brought up the subject, again.  We leave (I'm still nervous, thinking she may change her mind because she would periodically say she was scared and begin to cry).

 But, we got to Diane's office.  As we waited for the van, there was another kid, my daughter's age, waiting in the room.  He looked at us and said, "I was where you were a year ago.  I'm a recovering alcoholic. I know you're feeling anxious and scared, but believe me, this is the best thing you can do for yourself.  Last year at this time I thought 'How can I get through life without drinking?  Now, I think 'How was I getting through life drinking?'  I have my own place now, I'm back in school.  Pay my own bills.  And, I was robbed last night.  They took everything, and I don't want to drink over it.  Life is good."  (He was one of God's people placements.  Thank you, God.)  I eventually had to leave to get back to work.  I was nervous that she would leave the office after I left, and roam the streets with her suit case. (The crazy scenarios I'm starting to imagine).  I hugged her.  She was tearing up.  So was I. I hugged her, again, and left. 

I went back to work, and after the day was over, I called Diane to see if she got onto the van.  Diane said, "Yes.  Once their support person goes, and they don't have anyone to worry with, they get the courage."  "Like leaving them off at kindergarten?" I asked.  She laughed and said, "Exactly."

Oddly, I was still kind of shell shocked.  I thought I'd be happier, but I was still worried.  I (and this is another irrational fear because she has no money) was imagining her taking a bus from 4 hours away.  I almost expected to see her on the door step at midnight.  But I went home, made some macaroni and cheese (a favorite comfort food) and after I ate, I fell asleep on the couch.  The phone woke me at 8:00 pm.  It was my daughter telling me she had arrived there.  She sounded okay.  Of course the phone card I bought her is the wrong one (they were not allowed phones) so, she'll call collect when she can, but other than that, all was well.  I hung up the phone, and I could smile.

My response to stress is to sleep, so I went back to bed.  The phone rang, again, but this time it was my best friend (more like a sister) who was going to be in town on Sat. and wanted to meet.  We decided on breakfast in the morning.  I went back to sleep.  All day, yesterday, I felt as though I was in slow motion.  I initially thought that if she ever went, I'd get this done, and that done,  I'd be like someone drinking coffee and listening to banjo music--I'd be all over the place, but I wasn't.  I went to my Al Anon meeting last night, and told everyone.  They were happy, and I looked at the woman leading the group and said, "It's a good thing, right?"  She smiled and said, "It's a very good thing!"  I told her that I think I'm so used to broken promises, and horrible situations, that I can't see or maybe don't feel as though I deserve that this is SUCH a good thing--like I"m afraid another shoe (or a boulder) is going to drop.  She said that's not unusual, and again commented to take it one day at a time, and it is a GOOD THING.

So, it's Sunday morning, and my emotions are catching up with my brain. I'm recalling what Diane said about it being a process more than progress.  I can smile as I write this because regardless of the future journeys, today a good thing is in progress.