I Picked You

I am still going through an inward transition. It is a slow process.  It  is a good thing.  While we still have good days and bad here, I no longer jump off that mental cliff of despair.  I don't even stand and look over the edge, anymore.  I have backed away and look up, more. There is an inner calm inside  that I have no way of explaining (that peace that surpasses all  understanding)  other than to say that  I have let go and let God.  While life is happening all around me, I find myself, inwardly, able to stand and observe without wrestling with those negative emotions. It feels so good.

It is freezing, cold here. So cold, that the pipes froze but didn't burst.  My dad needs heart valve surgery. Paperwork at work is always nipping at my heals. I'm trying to sort stuff out at home in an attempt to put my house up for sale.  My daughter is still struggling, though, I see in her more hope.  I should be stressed, but I'm not.  I know life will work out and I don't have to be at the helm plotting out everyone's destination and direction.  It feels so peaceful.

I was packing up some odds and ends to give to the thrift store and thought of a time when we lived down south.  My daughter was two.  One afternoon, I was folding clothes in the family room and she came toddling in and announced to me, out of nowhere and  with a big smile, "Mommy, when I was in heaven I looked down and picked you."  I opened my arms, with a tiny t-shirt still dangling from one of my hands, said, "Thank you!",  and she ran to me and we shared a big hug. Just as abruptly, she toddled out of the room and back to her playing.   I have remembered that scene in the past, but this time it kind of hit a new understanding.  Though she doesn't remember saying that to me now, I have thought about that moment frequently.  So what if there is something beyond our understanding?  What if she was in a place before she came to me where they could make a choice?  Whether there is or isn't, her announcement to me was kind of prophetic, especially with the struggle she has been working on overcoming. I used to wonder that maybe she picked me because of what the future held for her. Of what I could do for her.  Recently, I considered that maybe she picked me because of an understanding of the struggle I would be in.  This has been horrible and I wouldn't wish it on anyone--having a child or loved one experience an addiction. It's heart breaking. Having said that, I have grown so much. I am a different person at this moment than I was three years ago, and it is a person that I like.  I am calmer. More hopeful. More understanding. More patient. The list of what I am more of, in a good way, is long and continues to be added to.  I am grateful.

The future has been refreshed.

Grace

Lately, I've been a little like Dorothy looking out of my house as I spin around in a tornado.  Work (paperwork is not my friend), home (still good and bad days), my dad (he needs surgery) have all been pulling me in so many directions, that it was hard focusing on any one of them to feel as though I was doing a really good job with either of them.  Then, this weekend I got sick (I rarely get sick) and am still recovering but feel a lot better that I did on Sunday.  So, of course I'm two days behind where I want to be but, I'm not stressing about it. It is what it is.

In the back of my mind has remained my 'pilgrimage'.  I really wanted to exorcise those old ghosts.  During those moments when I had time to just be quiet and think, I tried to plot out a route to take.  On that route I would stop and maybe lay a flower, or take a picture and then burn it and spread the ashes, or just sit and say a little prayer.  I was trying to figure out how best to put those bad memories to rest. 

Then, one morning I was taking a shower (always my best place to think) and the thought came to me to change my thinking.  It came to me that I don't have to physically go through all of that if I don't want to.  The change has to come in the way I'm viewing those places.  So the question popped into my head, "Do I see those places as a time where she was drunk or do I see those places as a time that the Grace of God covered the situation making it one that could have been horrible, but instead, each time some little miracle happened that allowed the situation to pass without anyone getting hurt, or arrested or dying?"  My thought was not to see those places as reminders of all of the negative, but as places where God stepped in and, 'saved the day.'    Once I considered that thought, it was like a weight had been lifted from my whole being.  I think I may have even taken a deep breath, like the breath you take when you open the window in the spring on the first nice day and smell all of those sweet, fresh fragrances.  The fresh fragrance of clearer thinking.

Here is one of those miracles that really is not so little.  She was to run an errand for the place that she worked for on campus.  During the middle of a test I was giving, she called the phone in my room.  I could tell by her speech that something wasn't right.  Just at that moment, my principal walked into the room.  I'm not sure if I had a look on my face or what, but she asked me if there was a problem and I said, yes.  She asked if it was family.  I said yes (she knows nothing about my family). She then asked me if I needed to leave. I said only for a few minutes.  She told me to go, that she would administer the test for me (that never happens). So out the door I ran. I called my daughter on the way and found her sitting in the snow on the curb right as you enter campus.  To all others, it looked as though she had fallen.  I pulled over, helped her up, and took her home.  All in 45 minutes which is another amazing feat.  No one was hurt, no one knew, and I got back to work and all was 'fine.' 

That was just one of the insanities that occurred during those early years when I was trying to understand what this was all about. 

So, there in the shower, I had my pilgrimage. I decided to shift the focus of my thinking to the blessing not the curse, so to speak, and that heaviness in my heart, lifted.  Though I haven't had the time to drive past those places, yet, I know it will be different.  It is different already, here, at home, with the memories that have accumulated, here.  A lot of negative went on (still goes on) here, though I don't dread being here, anymore.  It's different, now. My view is different.  I was putting up Christmas decorations and the phrase, 'There by the Grace of God go I,' came into my mind. I have said it on occasion, with no real commitment to what it means.  I completely understand what it means, now.  They aren't just words to me anymore.  They are a declaration.

Merry Christmas and bountiful blessings in the New Year.

Unchained Memories

I still feel as though I'm in a transition of sorts.  No more of those panicked feelings even though life here feels a little like the waves when you're sitting on a raft in the ocean.  It's not a stormy sea, but it's not calm waters, either. 

Thanksgiving here was nice, though, because of work, my son couldn't be here (first time) so it was my daughter, my dad and I.  It was  a nice, calm and relaxed day. 

My daughter and I were out yesterday, walking through the stores, testing perfumes,  looking at clothes, admiring odds and ends.  It was fun begin part of the shopping crowd without that nervous feeling of needing to find the gift everyone else is looking for.  I stopped worrying about shopping for Christmas a while ago.  I take it slow, now, and things seem to turn out a lot better than when I was one of those frenzied feeling shoppers.

On the way home, we stopped at the grocery store and my daughter ran in to pick up a few things. I waited in the car.  I sat and thought about a quick comment that I made leaving the mall.  It had something to do with wanting memories of places we go to or things we've done that have nothing to do with a drinking memory. I don't want to look at some picture that was taken that on the outside looks 'normal' yet I know that she had been drinking.  Or, some place we drive past that has some memory of a drinking moment.  I did comment to her about it and we kind of joked about it, which feels like a good thing to me, because in the past anger could erupt with only a one word mention of drinking.  Progress.  Anyway, as I sat in the car, I started to wonder, how do you make new memories to overlap the old?  Those old memories feel like false ones, anyway.  That's not really how life should be or how it was supposed to be.  Those are not the memories that were supposed to be held onto.  Those old memories do not really reflect the life situations that my child should have been in.  I know it may not make sense, but that is what I was thinking, and pretty much how I feel about it.  I'm not resentful.  Not really remorseful, either.  More like going through my mental album of memories and wanting to remove the 'false' pictures and replace them with the mental photos that should be there. 

So, that's what I'm doing.  I'm toying around with the idea of revisiting all of the 'haunted' places with the false memories and doing something positive to recreate better memories.  I'm not sure that I will actually go through it with all of the places, but I do think I just may make my own pilgrimage to some of these places to  'set things straight' so to speak.  I don't want to drive past something (I've written about this before) and constantly see the ghosts of drinking past, waving to me or peeking out from behind a pole as I drive past.  I want unchanged from those memories. 

A Different Perspective

Life feels as though it is in a transition stage.  I have been going through some internal readjusting that in turn is effecting my 'outer world.' Though there are a lot of issues I want to write about, I just don't have that mental 'umph' yet.  I feel quiet and observant, but not motivated to 'move', yet.   After writing about egg shells, I stopped walking on them and talked with my daughter.  I expressed everything I was feeling, even the feeling of walking on egg shells.  It was done in love but spoken with determination. It was good to discuss this with her.  It feels so much healthier having it all out and everyone understanding what everyone is thinking/feeling. 

Something interesting happened at work, yesterday.  As I was leaving at the end of the day, two of the principals were in the office as I was checking out.  One mentioned to me about a meeting they had attended where addicts were talking about what parents should look for in their children if they suspected drug use.  My principal was talking about how manipulative their behaviors were as addicts (these are the persons with addiction talking to the audience describing their own behaviors while in active addiction).  Though I don't share my own experiences, I do share what I've learned.  Their concern was with a student that I have who's parents are in active addiction.  The are concerned about the manipulative behaviors the child is learning.  I agreed with how unhealthy it is.  What is concerning to me, though, runs a little deeper.  Adults who have participated in addiction and all the behaviors associated with active addiction, once they choose sobriety, have the appropriate behaviors to fall back on. Their behaviors prior to addiction.  They know right from wrong, etc.  Their foundation allows them to see how manipulative they were while in their addiction.  Once the choice to pursue sobriety is determined, they have a frame of reference for appropriate behaviors to return to.  Children who are growing up with parents in active addiction, though, don't have that same frame of reference.  The behaviors they have been learning by watching their parents (who are the foundation of the child's development) are behaviors of a person in addiction--the manipulation, lying, etc.  All of the negative behaviors.  Those children don't have a more healthy foundation of appropriate behavior reference.  Their behavior reference is the reference of behaviors of active addiction.  These children have no healthy, moral code to decipher or return to as they move through life.

{This has always been my concern.  A lot of times the adults feel sorry for how terrible the child's home life is and so they let them get away with a lot.  I agree, many times (and the situations are becoming more frequent) their home lives are terrible.  However, feeding into those manipulative behaviors isn't helping the child. It, I believe, hurts the child even more because it reinforces for them the idea that their manipulations does produce desired results.  I can't tell you how many times I have diplomatically tried to explain that they are not helping the child by giving in to them.  But, most of  the time people don't want to hear words that make them uncomfortable}. 

Anyway, when I told my principals that, they just stared at me.   I don't think they had viewed it from that perspective, before. 

Egg Shells

My computer problems are finally over. My son graciously bought me a new one--something about a mother board not functioning. I probably should know more about the computers I use, but sometimes it's like if I have to think of one more thing I might have my own mother board meltdown.  So, if he is content to help with that part of my life, I am content to let him. 

I get like that sometimes, that I have so much that I have to do or remember that just picking up a dog toy and throwing it back into the toy basket is just too much work, so I let it lay there. 

It is like that with this addiction issue.  We are having some good days and some bad.  It is getting like that dog toy, though.  I just don't want to talk about it, deal with it, or live with it anymore.  I am content to just walk past it and leave it.  I am not ready to kick her out, but I am beginning to whittle off more of my enabling, for lack of a better word.  I've written about it before, but I've reached the point where I don't really care what the reason was for buying alcohol, because at this point in the game, all of the reasons sound so lame.  She's upset with her dad.  So what?  Who hasn't been?  She's shy.  So what, who hasn't been at one time or another?  She feels guilty wasting her gifts.  So STOP drinking.  She doesn't have any friends.  So make some.  Blah, blah, blah is what it is all sounding like to me.  I don't mean to sound uncaring or insensitive.  People who are hurting is a serious issue.  Having said that, if I cut my finger, I would get a bandage so that it could heal.  I wouldn't pour poison all over it and take a nap thinking everything would be better when I woke up.

The one issue that still robs me of my freedom in this situation is the emotional issue.  What I just wrote up there, I haven't said bluntly to her.  I dance around the emotions.  I'm still walking on egg shells where the emotions are concerned.  I don't say what I really mean fearing that she will get upset or sad or mad and go drink.  Has my waking on egg shells ever prevented the drinking?  No.  But somewhere in my brain, I haven't yet been able to fully live the fact that I can't control some one's emotions let alone their actions.  All change comes from within and for me to still be walking on egg shells means that I am still in the grips of enabling even with all of the positive realizations and changes I have been able to make in my life.

Emotions are draining. I work with children who have emotional issues.  Trying to figure out why they do what they do is exhausting.  There have been days when I needed to go to the grocery store after work and I was so mentally exhausted that I actually tossed around the idea of just sitting in a corner and closing my eyes for a few minutes.  Now, I would never do it, but for a few seconds the idea sounded comforting.  So, I had to make some changes at work as to how I worked with those students.  Ironically, my experience with addiction and everything I've read and lived through has helped me distance myself from their emotions.  It has really been helpful. I can clarify their issues better and give them the tools to be more accountable, and it has been successful.  I don't walk on egg shells there.  I still do at home, though.  The final frontier. 

Well, that is the issue that I have been addressing, here.  I feel as though I've been rambling but it feels so good to write about it, I think I just needed to get it all out. 

Serpents and Doves

When I was in my third year of college, a friend of mine got engaged and then married.  They were renting an older, cottage-like home near my parent's house.  When we were growing up we had a relationship where sometimes we were close for a few years and then we'd grow apart, then get close again, then grow apart and at that time we were close, again.  She had a very electric personality. Energy all of the time.  Time spent with her was always fun.  It was summertime, in the early evening.  I had just got home from a summer job at a local park (my favorite job of all time).  She called and wanted me to come with her to run some errands--nothing that needed me to dress up, so I showered and changed into my jeans and a t-shirt.  Pulled my hair back and sat on the porch and talked with my mom until she pulled up.  It was an easy time in my life. 

When I got into the car, as usual, she was already talking about everything.  One topic I remember was about a girl who worked with her husband.  They had been on a company picnic that weekend apparently this girl had annoyed my friend.  I remember, as she was driving, she was complaining about this girl. She felt her personality was 'weird.'  "How so?"  "She's always in the conversation."  "I'm not sure how that's bad."  "Well, she thinks she knows it all."  "Oh,"  I said, nodding my head, understanding how annoying that can be.  Me agreeing with her seemed to fuel her justification for not liking this girl because then she started in on how she looked.  "Yeah, and she never wears make up, she always has her hair in a ponytail. Always wears glasses and she never dresses up--she always wears the same thing.  Pants and a shirt."  I took a quick, mental assessment of my own appearance--no make-up, hair pulled back, my standard jeans and a t-shirt.  I remember smiling and looking over at her, "Uh, Cath...you just described the way I look right now." She quickly took her eyes off of the road to glance at me.  Then she looked me in the eyes and we both started laughing.  "Well, you look good, it looks different on her, besides, I think she even has a mustache, and you don't have that."  "Right."   I giggled and she laughed and the conversation moved to another topic.

Funny what you remember.  In fact, I hadn't thought of that conversation for a while, not until recently when I was thinking about how people judge persons with an addiction.  I was at work and there is a family who's parents are active in their addictions.  They have children that attend our school.  When we, as professionals, are at meetings talking about this family, you can see the disgust in their expressions and the lack of understanding in their words.  This isn't the only family like this.  A sad fact is that more and more children are living with one or more parent who is addicted to drugs or alcohol.  I have been to several meetings with parents who's slurred speech, and gingerly movements cause a lot of glancing around the table and then a lot of talk after the meetings.  Once or twice I've smelled alcohol on a parent, but their actions seemed normal, so the meetings progress normally. 

It's tragic.  However, my point here isn't about how tragic that is.  It is about how people can find one thing not to like about someone or a situation, and then build on it.  Like my friend did.  She didn't like how that girl acted like she 'knew it all' and when I agreed that that was annoying, she began adding other traits, that she had apparently forgiven me for or had even overlooked, because she liked me.  At these meetings with the parents who are struggling, my colleagues (some of who are counselors)  grab onto the 'addiction' and lose the person. No one seems to take into account all of the parts that are involved.  My suggestion this week was to address the elephant in the room, but no one wanted to do that.  "We can't.'  "Why?"  ""Legal issues."  "Really? What?"  "There isn't any real proof, just our suspicions."  "Hmmm."  It goes like that.  Then they start talking about the parents, again.  I did speak up a few months, ago. I spoke up, again, yesterday.  All I said was that,  "If you dehumanize the parents because they have a problem, you will never make any progress.  I don't think anyone is happy that their life has gone down this path.  Keep the children safe, but I don't think we should forget that the parents may need just as much compassion and help."  I think I heard about fifty crickets after I said that, but I felt compelled to say it, so I did. 

"All things work together for good to them that love God."  I wish this hadn't happened to my daughter, but I can see how there is good in all situations.  I am clearer on how not to jumble every personality and trait into an excuse to justify my judgment.  My view of the person is becoming clearer--as is the mess that may be around them.  I understand Matthew 10:16 better, "Behold, I send you forth as sheep in the midst of wolves: be therefore wise as serpents, and harmless as doves."  I'm wiser to the behaviors and boundaries that are needed, but more gentle to the person.

Breathing

I'm tired of this addiction. I'm tired of thinking of everything that has happened regarding the addiction. I'm tired of trying to figure things out, sort things out, and understand the reason for all of this.  I just want it all to be over.  I just want the life that I imagined for my daughter to start up, again. That simple life that you imagine day by day.  They come home from school and you aren't thinking any huge accomplishment other than, they had a good day and were positively active in life. I talked to my daughter who is struggling right now and told her that if she decided to never work, again, or just spent the rest of her life reading every book she can, or if she used the rest of her life to volunteer, that all would be so much better than what she is choosing, now.  I said that to her because I think she sets such high standards for herself that are pretty unrealistic. It's as though if she feels that she isn't going to be the best, then why try?  Sick thinking.  Anyway, I'm tired of it all. I want her to be tired of it all, too. 

I'm not mad.  Though, I think I should be regretful, I'm not.  I do get sad, but even that emotion is fading.  I don't feel weak.  On the contrary, I find that my mind is becoming clearer.  I'm not moping around in a fog, anymore.  The last time she drank, I didn't fly into a rage.  I didn't even want to be angry.  I'm tired of that, too.  Anger is exhausting. 

I have changed.  I have spent a lot of time 'talking' with God. I have made it a priority to spend at least a half and hour a day meditating on bible passages and just being quiet.  Being quiet is so important.  There is so much outer noise and the inner noise was becoming so deafening, that waking up in the morning and trying to think about the day, was becoming mentally painful. I found during the day, when I was planning a lesson or doing paperwork, that I was clenching my jaw so hard that it was starting to ache.  So I stopped.  I think that is a tentacle of involvement with an addict. You too start developing an over active mind and your own form of sick thinking. You can discern their sick thinking but your own sneaks in through the back door.  I have locked the back door.

I guess I'm writing here, today, because I don't want to write about addiction. I want to write about how much better I'm feeling even though the storm is still raging all around me.  This isn't over.  Though my daughter says that she hates this and doesn't want to drink anymore, she did.  I'm not okay with it, but I'm not enraged over it, either.  I think I just had the 'ah-ha' moment on boundaries.  I think my mental boundary just kicked in and that boundary is what is most important.  I can be physically distant from someone, but if my mental boundary isn't established, I'm still just as involved and entangled only from a distance (I went through that when she was away at school--what a nightmare that was, being so far away and yet so enmeshed in her madness at the time).  Now, she's in the same house but I'm able to distance myself.  I can love her and talk with her and be her support and still not be attached in the way where I am flailing and getting knocked around with each of her bad choices (only six years to figure that one out--better late than never, I guess).

The mental boundary is hard because the sick thinking encourages you to believe that disconnecting mentally means that you don't care.  Not true.  In fact, I think that it may be the moment that caring becomes clearer.  Like when the plane is coming down and you're in the seat and that oxygen mask pops down.  Before the mental boundaries I was trying to adjust her oxygen mask while mine bounced around above me.  Recently, I learned to reach up and grab onto my own mask and I have to tell you, those first couple of breaths are the most refreshing and freeing I've ever taken.