Clay

I didn't realize how long it has been since I last wrote something here.  It's not like I didn't have ideas.  I pretty much have and idea or two a day, I just didn't seem to have the drive.  Emotions are draining.  Not only mine, but the kids at school, my family, stress (which I'm really working on decreasing), and I'm going to physical therapy two days a week because pain is also very exhausting and I'm tired of being tired.

Thanksgiving, here, was perfect.  My son, my daughter, my dad, and me.  I have the meal preparation down to a science.  My daughter went to work that night at the mall, an extra job she took.  My son and dad stayed and visited a while, though my dad, who was being driven home by my son, was nervous about leaving after dark.  Old habits and fears are hard to let go of, I guess.  Anyway, the day was a blessing.

That evening, sitting here alone, eating a piece of pie and watching a movie, with the dogs curled up on the couch with me, I started thinking about everything. I still have a bad habit of feeling the urge, when I'm feeling peaceful,  to open that door to the past and pick through horrible memories.  Why?  I have no idea.  But I still do it.  I started to do it on Thanksgiving evening, but before opening that same old, creaky door, I stopped.  It was as though I didn't have the energy for that, either.  Enough of digging through that 'stuff.'  Instead, I started thinking about how I would be had all of that 'stuff" not happened.  It was kind of refreshing to turn it around.  I'm used to internally lamenting about what life would be like if this evil hadn't befallen my child.  Life would be much better, for her especially, but for me, too.  The physical part of life, at least.  But I'm not so sure the spiritual side would be and I'm finding that that part of me, the spiritual, is far more important for my survival than the physical (material) part.

This extended course in misery, fear, and stress has, I have noticed, refined me on the inside into a person that I truly don't believe I would be had it all not happened.  I can also see a strength growing in my daughter that used to be there, but I haven't seen in a very long time.  The potter and the clay reference comes to mind (Isaiah 64;8).  I completely understand it and even better, I'm not bitter about it.  If this whole experience was allowed to happen to bring us closer to God, I'm okay with it.  No one has died, gone to jail, been injured, physically.  Yes, it has ripped me on the inside.  The stress and fear has been unbearable at times, but when I finally just let go ("It is what it is") mentally, things started to change.  Slowly, yes, but still change started.  Change and understanding.  I am not trivializing the struggle.  I'm not saying I didn't stamp around my house crying and yelling at God, because I did.  I would sound like a crazy person if I wrote all of the goofy reactions I have had during these past few years.  In the end, though, I stopped the ranting and just emotionally plopped down and became still.  I felt drained and exhausted.  I felt rejected and sad, but I didn't have the energy to react anymore--inside.  It's a hard feeling to explain, that stillness, but it was as if on the inside, I just couldn't emotionally move anymore.  I believe that is when my internal healing began, and continues.

I'm still learning.  I'm still trying to feel my way through this new mindset.  I still feel stress, but am working on it. We still have good days (more frequently) and bad days, but I don't fall apart, anymore.  There is a calm that I can only explain as God. I'm not sure how this is all sounding.  I don't want it to come across as though it's been easy once I emotionally plopped down.  It hasn't been, but it hasn't felt so isolating.  I don't feel so alone and weak on the inside.  I am feeling more uplifted and hopeful.

I just wanted to express that because this experience has been the foundation of helping me to interact more effectively and with a stronger purpose, with those around me--my work, friends, strangers, family.  And if someone else is experiencing the pain and stress, I just want to say, hold on...help is on the way.

Neutral

I used to know what I wanted.  I wanted a new house. A new location. To be thinner, happier, a famous writer, go back to Italy for a week, hike in the woods.  On and on.  I was thinking the other day, though, even though there are things, like having dessert at a diner, that I consider to be honest with myself, I really do not know what I want anymore.  Okay, let me qualify that.  I know that I want my children healthy and well, safe and content.  I want that for them.  But this whole Alice in Wonderland, down the rabbit hole trip that I've been on has really just sucked out all desire for me.  I really did plan on looking for a new house, I even started packing some things up, but even that has become less of a driving force, especially when I try to tackle ALL of the stuff that I have accumulated throughout the years.  I pack up a few things and look around and feel so overwhelmed by the daunting task of separating what to keep and what to get rid of that, I get discouraged and walk away from it.  The everyday routine of getting up, going to work, coming home, playing with the dogs and going to bed is so monotonous to me, yet, there is kind of a heavy comfort to it too.

Ugh.  It this the effect of overwhelming stress and worry?  Have I become so used to the falling that I don't even care to reach out and grab onto something anymore?  That's what it feels like. I'm not complaining, I'm just stating a fact.  I'm not even sure if I don't like this feeling.  I'm really not sure what I'm feeling. I'm not happy or sad or afraid.  I am gliding in neutral.  

Confused

Someone help me understand this thinking.

Normally, my daughter is so sharp mentally.  Quick wit, smart, insightful, and then there are days like today, well, really yesterday.  Things were fine here.   We are having good talks.  She seems to be developing a better understanding and relationship with God.  It even gets to the point where I fell like this madness is all over--She is finally strong enough to either not need alcohol or want it. But then, I come home yesterday, and I can tell we are back down the rabbit hole.  We don't argue anymore about it.  In fact, the stretch between falls is extending, though not extinct.  It is what it is.  So, today, as I was doing my usual Saturday morning laundry and cleaning, I went into her room and found her sitting there petting the dog.  I sat down on her bed and asked her what had happened for her to do this.  She told me that yesterday she was thinking at how far she should be in her life by now, but isn't.  (She has in her mind that she is a certain age and should be at a certain place in her life).  I listened. I wanted to interject, but I listened.  I wanted to make that, "Really?" face.  But I didn't.  I listened.  When she was finished, I told her I wasn't going to argue.  That I had heard what she had said, but was confused. I told her (reminded her?) that alcohol is the only reason that she isn't where she feels she should be.  Alcohol is the only thing that has held her back.  Alcohol is the only thing that has robbed her of all that she feels she has lost.  So...why run back to it?  Why not just keep working hard and pushing forward?  Why, would you run to the very thing that has been holding you back? (I might have been making the "Really?" expression as I was talking, though I truly was trying not to).  I JUST DON'T UNDERSTAND.

I also told her that ironically, with all that has happened and all that is on hold in her life, the only real waste of time has been being so lenient with pursuing and fighting and working for her sobriety. The harder she works toward that, the more her life will unfold-- if she would just stay sober.

She listened.  I left.  Life goes on--well, mostly.

All of Those Ripples

Things are moving along, here.  All except for the humidity which seems to want to linger and linger.  School has started back up and honestly, it's like summer never was the way the routine kicks back in and life goes on.

Home is moving along, too.  As always, good and bad days, but the majority of days seem to be smooth and I'm thankful for the more normal routine.  We do have discussions still, and one that comes up and I must say is kind of a sticking point with me through this journey has to do with figuring things out.  Specifically, the discussion always circles around to how lopsided this figuring out has been.  She has only had herself to try to figure out (why does she do this, what are her triggers), where I have had to try and figure out my thoughts and reactions as well has her's and if we look at all of the ripples that tossing that stone causes, I am also trying to figure out my son's behavior during this as well as what other family member might say or think (which is why they don't know any of this).

I have been sober this whole time, trying to catch and analyze all of the triggers, reactions, behaviors, emotions--all of it--to try and figure out the bigger picture.  Sometimes I resent it, even though I have learned a lot from it. To be honest, I could probably write a whole book on resentments, but I don't really like wallowing there too long, so I doubt it would be healthy.

Anyway, I only mention this because we recently were talking about it here, and the conversation, as usual, didn't end that well because apparently I am rarely seeing it from her point-of-view.  Honestly, I'm not sure she fully understands her point-of-view that well, anyway.  I'm not mad, just stating what happened.  It is what it is--very comforting words that I now live by.

Going on Memory

My daughter and I were talking a few days ago.  We were talking about things we'd like to do some day.  Big ones, she wants to sky dive at some point, and little ones, I want to go for pie and coffee at a diner after dinner sometime with my childhood friend.  Anyway, she had some definite ideas I on the other hand could only come up with the pie and coffee idea, and even that came with some considerable thought.  "Mom, really?  That's all?"  was her response.  I thought a minute longer and, "Yep, that's all I got right now,"  was my response.

I thought a little more and a flicker of a light bulb (you know like the ones in the old Frankenstein movies that crackle and flicker before the big power surge) started glowing in my mind.  I realized that I had been taking care of other people for so long, and putting their needs and feelings before mine, that I have lost track of what I want.  I'm not complaining.   Just stating a fact.  I was married young and had my children young.  I took care of them and him, then my mom, now my dad, even though he lives alone, my life still revolves around him...it's why I'm not living at the beach right now.  Anyway, I'm not resentful or angry, I made the choices and I wouldn't exchange the time I had with my children and parents for anything and still, in doing for them, I seemed to have faded away somewhat.  Add to that the stress and energy that a job entails and living with an addiction and, well, you tend to lose track of you.

I told this to my daughter and she was sympathetic.  She admonished me to start taking care of myself.  (Really?)

So, today I tried.  I was outside reading my book, and I started thinking.  How do I take care of myself?  Each time I think of the little ways I would pamper myself before children and big responsibilities, I recall the time and  I took  soaking in a bubble bath with lit candles decorating the bathroom, and yes, incense wafting through the room.  The devotion to putting on lotion, brushing my hair, listening to music and putting on make up.  It was fun.  It made me feel refreshed and ready for whatever.  I felt pretty.  I also felt more focused.  I tried to think putting on lotion with that same graceful patience, today, but my mind jumped to no, I have to be done by this time, to do this and then go there, and pretty soon, no lotion.

Focus, I need to focus. Like someone revived from a long sleep, I need to focus on one pampered moment.  When I accomplish that, I'll move to the next.  My mom gave me a book ages ago, about taking care of yourself.  I love this book. It's full of pictures of this young girl (about my age at the time) who is showing all of the ways to take care of yourself.  Even the picture of her exercising is peaceful, not that aggressive, intense, can I say angry, look that a lot of exercise trainers show.  She is gently smiling as she does a sit up, or lifts a five pound weight.  It's all so gentle and calm.  Sadly, I haven't been able to find it in a while, so I'll be going on memory.  Does everything have to be a challenge?

Yeah, but...

I have been working on trying to appreciate what I have, despite the struggles my daughter continues to go through.  I was tired of writing about the same thing over and over.  We have good days and bad days and days stuck in limbo.  It has been so hard for me to look past my own anger and frustrations with this life.  If lives weren't so intertwined or love wasn't so strong, it would be a lot easier to look past her life and appreciate mine, more.  But that's not what happens.  I think, I have a great job.  Yeah, but she's still struggling.  I have amazing friends.  Yeah, but she is still isolating herself.  Yeah, but, yeah, but, yeah, but.  I have pushed though some mindsets that I thought I never would, but that attachment to your child, that invisible umbilical cord, can stretch to infinite lengths.

I don't talk about it with my friends anymore, those few who I trust with this part of my life.  In that way, I've come full circle.  Good changes, some.  Bad changes, a few.  No changes are still in the lead.

Anyway, I found an amazing book.  Proof of Heaven by Eben Alexander, M.D.  I recommend it to anyone who may have doubts or if you just need that extra oomph of clarification and proof.

Another Reminder

We have this little Miniature Pinscher named, Dexter.  Since he came to live with us, almost two years ago now, I have been reading up on the breed.  In one of the readings, someone commented that having a Min Pin is like having an eternal toddler.  How true.  This little package of energy on four legs is all of that and more.  In all honesty, he's a handful.  He is hard to house train, though the former owner must have had something in the bathroom for him, because that is where he most often decides to relieve himself.  He pees on everything, so you can't put anything new on the floor.  When company comes, their suitcases have to go directly upstairs where the bedroom door is then closed, so that he doesn't decide to 'claim' those.  When he goes for a walk, he barks for the first 20 minutes, straight, it seems, while the other two dogs just quietly take in the scenery.  When he eats, he doesn't stay at his bowl, he grabs a mouthful and then carries it to some other part of the house, drops it and eats the bits from there.  When he's finished, he leaves the remaining bits o the floor. ( Fortunately, the beagle mix is food obsessed so that she cleans up any excess).    He pees on pillows, for reasons that I can't explain.   We are mopping, wiping, or washing something all of the time because of him.  Keeping a house clean, is a more time consuming job post Dexter than it was pre-Dexter.  Having said all of that, he is also very loving, cute, funny, and I don't know, just plain sweet.  I just love him. 

I was talking to my daughter about it.  That there are more reasons to get rid of him than to keep him, but you just love him so much that you work with the negative and bask in the warmth of all of the cuteness of him. My daughter said, "I think that's how God is to us.  We screw up so much and complain, make mistakes, and aren't always as faithful as we should be, but He still loves us through it all, no matter what." 

I loved that.  God puts reminders of His unfailing love all around us, sometimes, in the most unexpected places.  Ours came in the shape of a little Min Pin named Dexter.