Day Three - The First Sleepy

Sunday                              04.03.2011

     8:54am - Getting to the journal later today because I began my day by embracing my routine with the mindset that today is going to be a good day.  One key difference is that I did not set my alarm.  So my day began when the Orderly came in at 5:30am to take my vitals.  After he left, I decided my day should begin.  I got up, opened my blinds and allowed myself to be amazed by the view.  The quiet pre-dawn stillness of the morning was so precious. 

     I showered, put on fresh scrubs, bundled my personal and hospital dirty laundry, made my bed, brushed my teeth, and then I did something very cool.  I sat on the edge of my bed, looking out the window, but also at my reflection in the glass and I recited my affirmations to myself.  Then it was time to go downstairs for the first Group of the day.  

     There are Group counseling sessions at 6:30am, 7:30am, 3:15pm, 7:00pm, and 8:30pm, every day and they are mandatory.  The only time that you are allowed to miss a group is when you are in a treatment or recovering from a treatment.

     I have a new roommate.  Her name is Cindy.  She's an older woman with a shock of curly white hair.  Cindy's here also for alcohol addiction and she came all the way from Alaska.  She has a big family and her and her husband live quite remotely.  In the short time we got to visit I am finding her to be a gutsy, independent, take charge kind of gal.  She also made the decision to come to Schick on her own.  I like that.  I hope I get to know her better.  Even though I was resistant to having a roommate initially, I am choosing to keep an open mind about it, and about Cindy.

     Okay - now that the distraction that happened has been talked about, back to Group this morning.  Before it started I was looking through my binder, getting prepared to start Group, and I turned to my binder journal page where I left off last night, and I looked at the doodles I had drawn and it hit me how critical I had been with myself when I was drawing them last night.  Telling myself everything that was wrong with the things I had drawn.  Continuing to talk to myself so poorly - why?  It's funny how I didn't really realize or recognize it until this morning though.  I think that moment was an important break through for me.   At least an important first step in the right direction.

     My only classmate here is Suzie.  She is from Colorado.  I find her delightful.  I really like her.  We have a made a commitment to trade information and stay in touch.  She and I seem to have some common issues that we struggle with so I am finding her insight and stories to be pretty helpful for me, or at least more relative to me than some of the other patients here.  I also think that it is divine intervention that it's just me and Suzie in class together.  Not that we're "in class" but that she's my sister in arms during this battle, no one else, especially no men.  Not that it would be a problem, but this way there's no possibility.  It's just me and Suzie.  Because I watch some of the men here, especially the men around my age and they are all over the couple of attractive women in their class.  It's pretty disgusting really.  And sad too.  And these two girls/women are eating up the attention.  I find that behavior counter productive but also an easy trap to fall into.  So that's why I'm glad that it's just me and Suzie.

     I'm so hungry right now.  With my first Sleepy happening today I have been on a complete fast for the entire day since midnight.  My Sleepy doesn't happen until 11:45am so right now I am incredibly thirsty and hungry and I have a headache.  The Sleepy is the slang name for a Rehabilitation Interview which is performed with anesthesia, and in this case, specifically with propofol.  Apparently Schick used to use sodium pentatol or Truth Serum, but have since gone to the propofol, which is the same anesthetic that was being administered to Michale Jackson at the time of his death.  So the stuff is not without danger.  They make us fast from midnight before so that we don't end up aspirating food or liquid into our lungs during the procedure.

     With the rotation of Duffy (puking) and Sleepy (fasting) on an every other day schedule, there's not a whole lot of eating going on for me.  Maybe I'll drop a few pounds while I'm here too.  :)  One can hope right?!  


     Anyway, so with fasting and being hungry it made Group #2 of the morning difficult, because it was about blood sugar levels and how blood sugar going too low can cause an addict to relapse.  So she talked to us about how we can protect our abstinence by eating a balanced diet - which talked a lot about food and got my tummy grumbling!  Torture I tell you.


     Alright, it's now 10:05am and it is time to reward myself for working so hard this morning.  My reward is reading my Sue Grafton novel.  I really enjoy reading.  I think it will become a daily routine for me now.  I like treating it like a reward for my own personal good behavior.  I probably won't talk to you again until after my sleepy and counseling sessions today - so the next conversation will be a deep and thoughtful one. 


     6:08pm - Time to reflect on my Sleepy...wow.  It began with a Certified Registered Nurse Anesthetist (CRNA) and a typist in the room.  The typist starts with reading the affirmations that I have selected while the CRNA administers the anesthesia.  They take you to level of subconsciousness and then ask more questions.  I remember repeating my affirmations, but after that - nothing - until I'm in a different room across the hall opening my eyes and thinking - "Where am I and how did I get here?"  Kind of creepy if you want my honest opinion.


     I was so nervous going in that I might say that I really want to kill myself or something else horrible that would require them to call authorities and have me committed.  All that nervousness was still there when I came to and it wasn't dissipated until my debrief counseling session with Patricia at 2:00pm.


     What I learned is that I really don't like myself, even at a subconscious level.  I learned that I am very angry.  I learned that you are considered to be a true friend and motivator to me.  I have an appreciation for you even subconsciously.  I learned that I cannot continue to watch the Real Housewives because I believe them to be a trigger for me and dangerous to my recovery and abstinence.  I learned that the months when I was pregnant and nursing my girls, I consider to be the best time of my life.


     These were all answers that I gave under sedation.  In reviewing my answers with me Patricia gave me some questions that I can ask myself during the next Sleepy.  


     First question:  What do I need to do to create closure with my childhood?


     Second question:  What is it I am so angry about and how do I resolve my anger?


     Then she also gave me some additional affirmations to have read to me to directly counteract my negative self image.

I LOVE MYSELF

I AM VALUABLE

     Because that was something else that came out is that I use sex to hurt myself and to feel valuable as a person.  She said it's apparent that I am acting out in response to childhood trauma and that I get drunk so that I can be free to express the anger that I am holding in and onto, then I crave closeness, love, and security, so I go for the quick fix by finding random men to have sex with, but by choosing random men and degrading myself like that I am also filling my need to punish myself.  Then the cycle continues.

     Patricia gave me a book and a workbook that goes with the book.  The book is called Emotional Sobriety by Tian Dayton, PhD and in it there is apparently a lot of good information about relationship trauma, which is what Patricia says is part of what I suffer from.  She said I'm very angry with my parents and that relationship trauma is affecting my ability to be a fully functional adult.  I couldn't agree more.

     Did I mention that the diarrhea hasn't stopped since yesterday?  Thought I would throw that in here.  I finally asked for some Imodium right before I sat down to journal this evening.  

     Okay back to counseling.  Patricia suggested that I might find it helpful to write a letter to my parents, even if I never give it to them, just to express my feelings and find my voice.  I think that sounds like a great idea.

I LOVE MYSELF

I AM VALUABLE

     I just had to say it again.  I think I need to say it until I believe it and then keep saying it.  Time to go to group for some more of the good stuff!  

     

                            

        


   
     

Day 2 - The First Duffy?

                                                              Saturday                                                    04.02.11


     4:59am - It's your birthday today.  Before I left, you told me that this was going to be the best present I could give you, it's also the best present I've ever given myself.  Sure the bed sucks, the food is marginal, the building is old and run down, but there is something so rich, so luxurious about the other 'amenities' here.  Like freedom.  Freedom to just be with myself - good, bad, or otherwise - I am free to shed the weight of the world, leave all my baggage from one end of the building to the other.  And of course, I mean emotional baggage.  I walked through the doors here and I was actually free to breathe and believe.  Another great one is trust.  Everyone here trusts me to be here for the right reasons and trusts me to do this.  No one says 'if' or even pokes a modicum of doubt in my direction.  That brings me to the amenity of belief.  That's one of the more incredible and rare ones.  As soon as I walked in I had an overwhelming feeling of belief wrap around me and take hold.  Through freedom and trust, I am able to believe in myself.  I can do this.  I am doing this. 


     Last night during group Reynaldo (the counselor) said something that caught my attention.  Truth be told, Reynaldo said a lot that caught my attention.  He's a very gifted speaker and counselor, I can just tell.  Even though I haven't had a private session with him, his abilities in group were nothing short of stellar.  Anyway, I digress...so last night he said something to the effect that "[he]...has met and had the pleasure to get to know many of [us], and several of [us] have brilliant minds, cerebral, high thinkers, exceptionally smart, but people like that have problems when it comes to feelings because [they] don't know "how" they feel..."


     WOW!  That's what I thought at that moment.  I thought WOW - THAT'S ME!  Reynaldo went on to describe or explain in more detail what he was talking about and he totally described me.  Because I can problem solve like crazy.  But you ask me how I feel and I get dumb.  Big time dumb.  I do default to generalized, blanket statements like "down" or "low".  And when he explained how that has to be drilled down to the real emotions I was really amazed, and impressed.  I want to learn how to do that.  Okay so I'm down, but why?  What's the real emotion?  I am going to ask about this with my counselor when I get to have my private sessions.


     Today is a good day.  I am a good person.  I am in control of my life.  I am making good choices.


     11:23am - Holy cram am I drained?!!!?!!!  I just had my first individual counseling session with Reynaldo and I am wiped out.  He got me talking about so much crap that I haven't wanted to deal with.  And he scared me.  He scared me real bad.  He teaches a course and specializes in generational issues and he said that so much of what i have experienced are generational, meaning passed on from one generation to the next, and if I don't deal with my demons then they will become my daughters demons.  He showed me how so many of the ways that I react to situations has nothing to do with the situation, but everything  to do with my baggage, my past traumas and experiences.  It became my motivation to continue care after Schick, to break the cycle.   


     Reynaldo said that I have some really big, serious issues that will require patience and time to work through.  He was actually surprised that I haven't committed suicide and have ended up here for a first step.  He said that with a history like mine, it wasn't a matter of if, just when I would take my own life.  That was frightening to hear, but I also agreed with him.  That's why I sought help.  Real help.


     He left me with one thing to focus on, which is hope.  By showing up and being committed to work on the alcohol addiction, I can also get direction to deal with my mental health, to become in charge of my life and break the cycle.  He said I have more to deal with than soldiers coming home from bad wars.  That's pretty hard to not only hear, but to come to terms with.  But that's what I'm committed to do.  I am dealing with all of my baggage.  I am breaking the cycle.  This stops with me.  I have hope.


     So my first Duffy starts in about 2.5 hours.  I am dealing with my addiction to alcohol first.  That is my goal for today.  To survive my first Duffy.  Wish me luck!


     5:10pm - First Duffy same as done!  OMG!  What an experience.  I feel like shit.  I'm on the last thirty minutes of my three hour stay in my room after each Duffy.  This time is to be spent focused on my recovery and addiction.  I have been focusing on all the things alcohol has ruined in my life, all the problems it has caused.  They sent me back with a washcloth soaked in wine to smell this whole three hours while I focus on the nausea to help create that negative association and build my aversion.  It's a technique that is working for me.  I've never wretched so much in my life.  Now the diarrhea is kicking in - oh no!  This is "Oh my God I am going to shit my pants before I make it to the toilet" kind.  Forceful like someone turned on the spigot.  Afraid to fart because I'll poop kind.  Eeks!             

Day 1 of 10 - A Conversation Begins...

What I am about to share with you, is verbatim (save personal details that might identify people who shall remain anonymous) from my journal during my ten days as a patient at Schick Shadel.  I have never journaled before in my life, and what you are about to read are my innermost thoughts, feelings, and raw emotions as they happened, while I went through one of the most life changing experiences of my entire life.  You are being invited into the conversation that is otherwise known as my journal.  For context, when I first began writing in my journal, which was a gift from a dear friend, it was easiest for me to write as if having a conversation with that same friend.  Enjoy.



Friday - 04.01.2011


"Strong, confident and on purpose, the new chapter of your life begins."  ~Anonymous



     You couldn't be more correct and wrong all at the same time!  I was so scared this morning.  Even secretly hoping that once I got here they would turn me away for one reason or another.  That's why I called you.  To keep me moving forward.  That extra little push in the right direction.  I'm so glad you called me back.  Because I think I would've fretted the whole time I was here, wondering where you were and blaming you for my failure at this program, but really I think I was almost hoping you wouldn't answer or call me back so I could have an excuse to fail.  A reason to fail, that wasn't me.  But we both know that it wouldn't have been you, it's me.  That's the whole point in this, it's mine, it's me, it's not something I can continue to not accept responsibility for. That's the deal right there.  Take responsibility.  


     Great news is that you are a wonderful treasure, a true friend at the very core, and you talked to me this morning, and allowed me a little freak out, and stayed so calm and supportive, and for that my friend, I am eternally thankful.  You helped me close the gate on the loading chute so that this scared heifer couldn't back out. 


     Then I got here and got into admissions only to learn from my admissions counselor that Miriam Weston works here!  You're probably asking -- who's Miriam Weston?  Well, Miriam and Ray Weston are the people that Jim and I bought our house from 10 years ago!  What a small stinking world!


     It was so odd and random how that whole subject even came up, but Darrell White, my admissions counselor was asking about my address, saying are you down in the dip on 288th?  I said, you sound like you're familiar with the area, so I explained where my house is and he says "You must've lived next to Miriam Weston."  And I was like "Uh...nope, actually she's who I bought the house from!"  Too crazy huh?


     So I have my first group session to attend.  It starts in 15 minutes.  They announce the sessions on a PA system.  This is the 3:15pm session.  I've had relaxation therapy already today too, which was pretty awesome.  Remind me to tell you about it after Group.


     Before I go to Group, I have to tell you that my lunch here today was tomato soup and grilled cheese and ham sandwich.  I found that to be so fitting and comforting all at the same time.  And warmly, pleasantly reminiscent of you.  I will write more on those thoughts later too.  I'm on the right path.  I can feel it.  I know it.  It's hard and scary, but right.


     9:02pm-Day 1 is almost over and I just got back to my room from the last two group sessions of the day.  The first was about family and all of the dimensions that family adds to my recovery.  I took notes (you know me) and got a ton of really good information from this session.  I found more self enlightenment in the personal stories others shared.  Things that I do that break down communication.  Ways that I contribute to the dysfunction in my family and marriage and pretty much every part of my life.  My communication isn't bad all the time, but I was able to recognize times when I bring my baggage into the communication and allow it to influence me, my emotions, and my ability to effectively communicate.  I do it most notably with you, or maybe I should say that the times I do it with you are the easiest for me to recognize.  I also learned that on the great side of things, all in all, you and I actually have very GOOD communication.  Now that I have identified my part in the times we don't AND asked how do I quit doing that AND been given some great tools to try, I believe that our communication will only get even better...and you know what?  That makes me so HAPPY!


     Okay on a side note - these twin beds are the smallest twin beds - if beds come in a slender version then this is it!  I feel like a giant and I am truly afraid that I will roll right off this thing and ker-plunk on the floor!  Plus trying to find a place to journal that's comfortable is next to impossible, but I'm managing to make it work.  


Interesting thing I spotted in the cafeteria tonight on the wall to the right of the pass window where we get our food, there's a framed photo of a pea pod with peas in it.  How cool is that?!  It gave me a moment to pause, smile and reflect on how much I appreciate you and our relationship.  It was like another reminder that I am in the right place.


     I need to tell you about the relaxation / meditation thing.  It's a DVD with subliminal visual and audio.  I wasn't too hip on the idea, but, I gave it a try by listening and watching.  The disc lasts 30 minutes.  I was out at about 18 minutes in I think and I didn't wake up for two hours!  I felt amazing when I woke up too.  Maybe I was just tired?  I don't think so -- I think I'm a believer in the power of the meditation and subliminal message.  Is that crazy?


     I'm proud of myself.  I haven't given into laziness today.  There's a TV in my room (which is all mine right now by the way) and I have chosen not to veg out to the boob tube but rather read the materials and work in my workbook all day.  I'm making this time count and making the most of this time.

     I found out that I have to come back at 30 and 90 days out for Recap treatment, which is two days each AND I have to do another 'SLEEPY' and another 'DUFFY' each Recap.  Eeeks!  I didn't know about that part, but I guess it's these follow up treatments that help make this a lifetime change, so I'm in all the way!


     My first Duffy happens tomorrow afternoon.  I can't eat for 6 hours prior.  A Duffy is patient slang for counter conditioning therapy.


     I'm going to read for a little while then sleep now.  My day starts at 0600HRS -- no rest for the wicked...or in this case -- the addicted!  Hey, wouldn't that be a great name for a book?  "No rest for the addicted" I like it.  Maybe I should write it?  Goodnight!
     

Unstoppable

Mt. Rainier as seen from the Crystal Mountain Loop Trail 2011

Breathe,
Fresh, full,
Heave,
Ho.
Leg up,
Further, further, 
Go!
Talking, walking,
Hiking, 
Striking,
out on new ground,
Self found.
Trail sometimes clear,
Sometimes not.
Time to steer,
Motivate,
Appreciate,
Wisdom and knowledge grown,
Experiences from oats sewn,
Wild,
Child,
No longer.
Now much stronger.
Will and discipline found,
Heart pounds,
Face red,
Vanity shreds,
Disintegrates and falls away,
Humble, honored, gracious heart stays,
Where sadness and depression once lay,
Mind ready,
Feet steady,
Onward,
Upward,
Higher, higher, to reach the top,
Must never stop.
Capable.
Unstoppable.

Hopelessness - Let's Talk About It!

Today's a hard day, so I thought I would talk about a hard word; Hopelessness. If you're in recovery or in the grips of addiction, chances are you're pretty familiar with this word and just exactly what it feels like.  It's a feeling with as many twists and turns as there are the letter "S" in the word, and each twist and turn feels like a boa constrictor wrenching down on your soul squeezing out  what life is left in you, restraining you from the ability to fight, draining the oxygen from you, to the point that you finally feel empty, dark, cold and absolutely alone.  It's a feeling that can overcome you and control you and consume you, no matter how much others love or care for you. 


I wanted to talk about hopelessness because it's real.  Because it's okay.  Because it's not a dirty, dark, failure for a human to feel hopeless.  Because the more light we shed on this dark subject, maybe the less people will be afraid to talk about it or to admit when they feel it?


I'm not feeling hopeless.  I actually have hope these days since going through treatment at Schick Shadel Hospital.  But I have felt it.  I was deep in the grips of it when I first walked through those doors on April 1st, 2011, but very few if any of you knew just how hopeless I felt at the time.  What an absolute and complete failure I felt like.  And after learning today that an acquaintance deep in the grips of hopelessness took their own life, and watching the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills and learning that one of the husbands recently took his own life, and knowing that I can completely understand that lowest of low points that a person is capable of reaching where the only solution can feel like throwing in the towel and ending your own life, I knew I needed to come back here and write about it.  


Have you ever felt hopeless?  Did you tell anyone?  Is there anything someone could have said to you that would have gotten you to open up or would have made you feel a little better or feel like there was hope?  Why are we so afraid of admitting when we are that very low?  Or when we are happy?  Or when we are scared?  Or when we are in love?  What are we afraid of people?  Why are we as human beings so reserved when it comes to being honest about how we feel?


I would love some comments on this one.  I would love to hear what your thoughts are.  


As I was writing this my Dad called to check on me since I had posted a couple links about suicide prevention on my facebook wall.  Thank you Dad!  Like I explained to him, I am fine.  Just choosing to share about a difficult subject because I care, because maybe if I talk about it, you'll talk about it, and before you know it, we're all talking, and talking is therapeutic.


That's my two cents.  
    


    

4 Months + 10 Days Later

Feeling compelled to write, I thought, "Well, before I start, let's just see how long I've been sober?"  So I "Googled" for a 'between two dates' calculator, and plugged in 03/13/2011 as the begin date (because that's actually the last time I woke up with a hangover) and today as the end date, clicked on the "include today in the calculation", and found that by providence, not coincidence, today just so happens to be exactly 4 months AND 10 days of sobriety for me! 

For those of us who have endured the grueling, although rewarding, 10 days of treatment at Schick-Shadel, the term "10 Days" becomes quite significant.  And today, no truer statement exists, than for me to say that without those "10 Days" I wouldn't have the 4 months that goes along with it.  Can I get an Amen to that Sisters?

This week has been very emotional for me.  I completed my 90 day recap treatment at Schick over the last weekend.  I set some healthy boundaries for myself in my personal life.  I hosted my first Bunco in sobriety at my home.  I have attended three support group meeting this week.  My daughters are still in California with their Dad.  And I had a person I care very much for show up on my doorstep this morning in their own emotional crisis. 

Through all of the happenings in just the past week, I have been reminded of and humbled by my importance here on earth.  I might not cure cancer, or fly to the moon, but my existence on this planet does make a difference, and sometimes even a profound difference in the lives of so many.  I am constantly surprised by the quiet voice in the corner of a Support Group meeting, or the email from another continent, that reaches me at just the time I need that extra bit of encouragement, that says "Thank you for sharing your story...because it helped."

There's such an important lesson for me in the events of this past week.  A reminder that I do my best work when I work on myself, and when I share MY story with others.  Not lofty ideas or theories.  Yes, I can share the theories as I learn them, but the important part is when I remember to not only share the idea or the theory, but how I made it work for me.

For example, hosting Bunco at my house this month.  I had a few moments of terrible anxiety about hosting Bunco.  My house wasn't ready, and with all of my best intentions, here I was down to the wire again and overwhelmed by this sense of failure that I was yet again doing the flight of the bumble bee to get my home in order and be prepared to welcome my friends.  So I had to think about that for a while.  Why was I so stressed?  Why was I so anxious?  And the answer was that I was going about it just like I always had back when I was drinking.  I was creating the chaos that would (previously) justify and give me a reason to get a good "buzz" on.  However, knowing that I am not that person anylonger, was the part of me that was creating this uneasiness inside of me.  My sober self was screaming from the inside "DANGER WILL ROBINSON, DANGER".  

That's when I took an emotional inventory.  Why am I hosting Bunco?  Do I want to drink?  What do I want from hosting this Bunco?  What are my motives?  

The answers I came up with were encouraging for me.  I was hosting Bunco because I truly wanted to hang out with my girlfriends.  I wanted to have fun.  I wanted to be loud.  I wanted to laugh.  I wanted to celebrate my independence with my friends.  No where in that inventory did I ever find any answer that indicated that I wanted to drink.

Then I tried to figure out why I was feeling so overwhelmed.  And the biggest reason was because my lawn wasn't mowed and my house wasn't clean.

Armed with a more well defined understanding of my motives and knowledge of why my gut felt "off", I created a plan.  This is a little technique that they taught us in treatment, but I am still practicing it.  I thought about the situation and identified the most important aspects:  

1. I was hosting Bunco.
2. People would be showing up at my home at 6:30pm.
3. I had to serve food and beverages.
4. Bunco would either be played indoors or outdoors depending on the weather.  

Then I took those elements and set about writing down a plan that broke it into smaller, manageable, clearly defined tasks.  I made a point to allow myself time to actually make dinner from scratch because I wanted to force myself to do something different than I usually did, which was to buy a ready-made lasagna and throw that in the oven so I would have enough time to get my buzz on before everyone showed up.  I set time limits on those tasks.  I was flexible enough with myself to only make myself accountable to clean the public rooms where everyone would be hanging out.  I limited the playing to indoors which removed the need to mow the lawn.  And I was resolved and firm enough with myself to stick to the plan and ONLY do my best, not strive for perfection.  And you know what?

This was the first time that I've hosted Bunco and done all of the prep work myself.  I was completely prepared by the time my guests started arriving.  I was sober, I was sane, and I had a GREAT time.  But even more than that, I felt this AMAZING sense of accomplishment and fulfillment for what I did.  I felt so self reliant, self confident, and worthy.  Which allowed me to just "be" in the moment with my friends.  To be completely PRESENT in the moment with my friends.  I kicked stress out of the drivers seat of my life and firmly planted myself back in control of the wheel!

So...here I am, 4 months AND 10 days later, and alcohol no longer runs my life.  Stress no longer runs my life.  I am no longer on auto pilot.  Low self-esteem no longer controls me or my actions. 

I am present.  I am valuable.  I am worthy. I am sober.  I am a messenger of my journey.  I am love.                

Karma, Karma, Chameleon!

I have been a chameleon in life and up until just recently, I had always thought that was a good thing.  [Enter irrational thinking stage right.]  For those of you who have a healthy sense of self and self esteem, this might seem like a no-brainer to you, but to me, and those like me who do not or have not always had good self esteem, keep reading.


What I have learned is that every time I adapted or evolved myself to fit into my current surroundings, I was actually sacrificing my SELF.  Sounds crazy, right?  Because isn't it good to try to fit in?  Isn't it good to be adaptive?  And the answer to those questions is yes, but...and it's a BIG BUT...BUT...the caveat is, so long as you are not trying to fit in or adapt at the expense of yourself.  And that is the part that I never understood, because I never knew who I was.  At least not to the point that I was ready to stand up with pride and conviction for what was true to me.  I would change like the wind would blow.  Of course, this hasn't always been the case, and it is not a blanket statement about myself for every moment of my life.  Like any star, I had times when my truth would shine through and I would glimmer with brightness, but these times were always short-lived and usually followed by some major crisis that I would create through self-destructive or self-defeating actions.  


So why would I do those things?  Because I didn't believe in myself.  Did you know that right now is the first time I've ever really been alone in my life?  It is.  I've always gone from one serious or semi-serious relationship to another because I've always been other-dependent.  I've always needed (sometimes desperately so) the validation of another person to feel like I mattered or had worth in this world.  Even though people would tell me continually about how smart, talented, and beautiful I was; it didn't matter because I didn't believe it.  


That's why I think being a chameleon is one of the most dangerous, destructive things a person can do to their sense of self and esteem, because it's very easy to don a mask, and hide with your empty self in plain sight.  It wasn't until I took off the masks and admitted that I was completely absent of self esteem and empty on the inside that I was finally able to start healing.


I used to fill that hole with alcohol and other self-destructive behaviors.  Except that no matter how much alcohol I would pour down my throat, it was never enough to make me feel good.  Actually it never made me "feel" anything except numb, and at some point along the way, that numbness got to be my best friend.  That numbness was my coping skill.  That was it folks, that's all I had.  


Now that I do not turn to alcohol to cope, I have been able to identify that chameleon for the dangerous and insidious creature that it has been in my life.  I am finally able to say I know who I am, and that I really like myself.  I am a person that I really enjoy hanging out with.


How about you?  Do you like hanging out with yourself?          

Getting Love Right - My New Favorite Book!

If you haven't heard me say it yet, you're hearing me say it now...this is THE BEST BOOK EVER!!!!  It's called 'Getting Love Right' and it's by Terence Gorski.  Here's a link for you to check it out and get your own copy from my personal favorite book store ever, Powells Books - Getting Love Right.  


I first saw this gem of a book in the curio cabinet at Schick when I was perusing through the titles of books for sale after a Women's Support Group meeting the first or second week I was home from rehab.  The title grabbed me right away, and so I decided to buy it and see what I might learn, if anything, from it.


From the minute I started reading it, I knew that this book was going to teach me more about relationships than I have ever known.  I couldn't put it down.  Every page I read, led me deeper into a journey of self awareness that I've been eager to travel for some time, but never knew where to start.  


You see, I've always known that I have some issues when it comes to being in a relationship, or at least when it comes to making one work, because frankly, I have always felt like love shouldn't be this hard.  Now in the middle of divorce number two, and feeling like I know that better has to be out there, but I'm just not sure how to find it, or how to keep it.  I was looking for answers, for guidance, for awareness, and I found all that and so much more within the pages of this one amazing book!


The author, Terry Gorski, does an incredible job of illuminating what dysfunctional relationships look like, sound like, and feel like.  Then he takes it a step further to show you how a healthy relationship looks, sounds, and feels.  This book is chock full of very practical, and easily understandable terms and theories that I could really relate with and apply to my own life and relationship history.  


Reading this book was like getting to talk to an independent, unbiased third party, who could help me to understand the things that I do in a relationship that are dysfunctional and the things that I do that are healthy and how I can do less of the stuff that damages a relationship and more of the stuff that encourages a healthy relationship.  


It's going to take a whole lot of practice and patience on my part, but I am super excited and eager to work at it, because I feel like I too, can get love right!  

Who's My Baby?

I AM!


This is a question that I ask both of my girls all the time.  It's become something of a game with us, that the girls adore and love to prompt me to ask.  This little tradition started with Breck, my oldest before she could even talk or walk, where I would hold her little adorable self all wrapped in a towel, fresh from the bath, up in front of the medicine cabinet mirror and ask her "Who's my baby?" and then follow it up with "Breck is, Breck is!".  It has now evolved to where, Brenna, my youngest, now almost five years old, especially loves to come up to me and whisper in my ear, "Mama, say who's my baby."  And then I ask "Who's my baby?" and she gets a huge smile ear to ear and replies "I AM!" in cheerful, giggly sort of way, all giddy with excitement. 


It occurred to me today though, that this is also a great question to ask myself.  "Who's my baby?"  


For eight and a half years now, my answer has been Breck and Brenna are my babies.  While that answer is correct in every, very literal sense of the question, it also sheds a light into the darkness that consumed my life for so long, even before I had kids.  Because that answer leaves the most important person in my life out...ME.


I am very nearly 39 years old.  When asked to describe me, most people will use words like confident, tenacious, outgoing, tall, driven, and strong to name a few.  Some might even use words like arrogant, aggressive, sarcastic, conceited, bitch, and vain.  While still others might even venture out of the PG realm and...well...I won't publish language like that here.  Fact of the matter is that through the past nearly 39 years, I have been all of that and more, mostly with the help of alcohol.  But what I have never, ever, EVER been is sure of myself, because I didn't care about myself at all.


I'm working on that now though.  Through my treatment at Schick-Shadel Hospital I was given an opportunity to push the pause button on life for 10 days and think about only one person...ME.  Through the thoughtful and CARE-FULL attention of the counselors, nurses, and staff, I was shown the importance of putting myself first and foremost in life.  I now know that I have to be okay before I can be okay for anyone else, including my family, or perhaps even, most importantly for my family; namely my daughters.  


So ask me that question now.  "Who's my baby?"  My immediate reply is, "I AM!"  

Relapse, does it equal failure?

Relapse is so scary.  When I say the word relapse, what is the first thing that comes to your mind?  Who is the first person that you think of when you hear the word?  Do you think of the addict and what it means to them and the fact that they are using again?  Or do you consider the family or friends of the addict?  How about how relapse affects those in recovery with the person who has relapsed?  And what about the treatment program that the person just finished?  Do you think of that program and does it change your opinion about the effectiveness of that program?


When I had heard the word relapse before now and have had personal experience with relapse, the only person I ever thought of is the addict.  That was the only perspective that I could see or even consider.  I never understood that when a person relapses it's like rocking the boat of recovery and creating waves that ripple outward and affect everyone even remotely vested in that recovery effort.  For those closest emotionally to the addict, these waves roll in with the force and magnitude of a horrific tsunami.  Crashing into the already shaky foundations of trust, hope, and belief and breaking them apart with a violent force.  


To others, like those new friends that the addict made during treatment, these waves might roll in under the cover of huge dark clouds like a bad storm on the horizon.  Causing those friends to batten down the hatches and protect their own new sobriety from exposure to the storm they see on the horizon.  Which might leave the person in relapse feeling rejected or alone or like a failure.


The treatment program is like an island where the waves of relapse hit on every side.  The family questions the program, the friends question the program, the addict questions the program, and those that went through treatment with the person in relapse, might question the program and its effectiveness.  The signs of a world class program though, is one that always maintains a safe harbor for those in relapse to come back to.  A shelter from the waves of the relapse.  A shelter created from the confidence in their program and the knowledge that the program works whenever the person is completely ready to work it, and the knowledge that not everyone is ready the first time through.


Relapse is not failure.  Relapse is inevitable until the person battling addiction learns to face their emotional crises and triggers with something other than alcohol or drugs.  Relapse is inevitable until a person is ready to take off all of the masks and look in the mirror, to accept responsibility for their life.  To take ownership of their life.


With 30 days into my recovery journey, I am finding that I have a new perspective on relapse.  As a friend it is an opportunity for me to show compassion to the person who has relapsed.  As a person in recovery, it is a reminder of how easy relapse can happen if I don't protect my sobriety every day and learn how to deal with my emotional crises in healthy, rational ways instead of a bottle.


Relapse does not equal failure.  Relapse equals more practice needed at being sober.  
    

A Month in Reflection

Today, May 10th, is exactly one month to the day when I graduated from Schick-Shadel, and how did I spend it?  Well, nursemaiding to my sick daughters was part of it, washing the last remaining car signed up for the staff appreciation car wash was another, and it ended with attending the 7:00pm group session back at Schick this evening, topped off by staying for the gratitude session.  


What a month it has been!  The past couple of weeks have been personally challenging for me because I have been struggling with maintaining my worldly communication.  In lay terms, I haven't felt much like talking the past couple of weeks.  No, I haven't totally withdrawn, and I have kept up the lines of open communication with those closest to me, but the outward, more public talking has been a challenge.  


I think I did such a good job of expressing myself the first couple of weeks that I maybe ran short of fresh material?  Ha!  Nope, that's not it.  Honestly, I've been in an ebb of emotion.  Kind of a numbness of letting life as it is now sink in and settle over me for a while, and just not feeling real up to sharing about it.  I haven't even journaled for several days.  I've thought about it, but I've let those thoughts come and go and haven't been real diligent about keeping up that expression of myself these past two weeks.  


Don't get me wrong, I have been doing my work, but the work has been harder to do, if that makes any sense?  It's like I've hit a vein of really hard material below the soft loamy surface material that was kind of easy to dig into.  Now it's one painful swing of the pick axe after another, with only minor chips in the surface happening.  I can see and feel progress, but it's minuscule in comparison to the depths I dug up to now.  I imagine that this is pretty normal in the process of recovery and in the process of getting to know myself better.  Some things are bound to be easier to dig into than others and some times I am going to feel more like talking than others.


It is one month later though and I feel really good.  The sun shined today and I got to share another day with my family.  I get to check back into Schick this week for my 30 day recap treatment and I'm pretty darned excited about that.  I will get to see my sisters (the girlfriends that I made during treatment) again and we will get to share about our struggles and victories and I am really looking forward to that.  

Schick-Shadel Hospital - Beyond The Slogan

The Schick-Shadel Hospital slogan is "Give us 10 days, we'll give you back your life."


I hadn't heard the slogan before I made my decision to give Schick 10 days of my life, but I got very familiar with the slogan while I was there.  Now that I've been a graduate (that's what we're called - sounds good, doesn't it?) of the program for a couple of weeks, I've thought about that slogan a lot more.  Because of how profoundly different my perception is of that slogan now versus how it was when I first heard it.  


When I first read the slogan on the website during my research of the program, I didn't really give it much thought.  Then the day I drove to the hospital and admitted myself, I heard it again in the lobby while I was waiting to be checked in.  I recall thinking, "Wow, that's pretty cool" at the time, and my conscious thought was of this IDEAL LIFE that I had swimming around in my mind.  A concoction of what my perfect life looks like, and making that connection to the slogan.  So walking in I was half expecting my 10 days at Schick to give me "THAT" life back.  Talk about screwy thinking?  I can see that now, but then...no way!  Because I wanted a magic fix.  I thought I wanted that "perfect" life, but how can Schick give me something that I've never had, right?  They can't, plain and simple.  But that's how out of whack my sense of everything was when I walked into that hospital on April 1st.  I was so low on self esteem, knowledge of self, respect of self, and completely bankrupt of spirit.  I didn't know how to count my blessings, because I couldn't see any blessings around me, because I couldn't see any blessings WITHIN me.  


Now that I am a graduate though, and I listen to that slogan, I can say that I have never heard anything more profound in all of my life.  No truer words were ever spoken.  Schick-Shadel did EXACTLY what they promised, they gave me back MY life.  The EXACT life that I left waiting outside the doors when I walked into the hospital on April 1st, 2011, except now I can APPRECIATE it!  I no longer want some perfect life, fantasy escape that I conjured up in my mind, I want my life, this life, this precious, AMAZING GIFT of life that God gave ME.  He didn't give my life to you, or her, or him...He GAVE it to ME, because I AM IMPORTANT.  I MATTER.  I AM VALUABLE.  


I couldn't see that before.  I couldn't appreciate me before.  I felt completely worthless and invaluable and because of it, I was willing to waste the gift of my life inside a bottle.  Thank you Schick-Shadel for giving me back MY life!

The Parent Trap

Last night I fell right into the Parent Trap and got CAUGHT in the painful steel jaws of frustration and hurt feelings!  Aaaghhh!!!!  Let me explain...


I went out to run an errand and to have a little bit of alone time, because as some of you know, my house is nice and full these days (my parents live with me - long story, which I will backtrack and explain in a subsequent post to catch you up).  Nice and full can also be synonymous with claustrophobic at times when you are 2 weeks post rehab, freshly unemployed and facing foreclosure of your home...I'm just sayin'...I needed a little space.


SETTING THE TRAP:  I didn't clearly state my need for space and define exactly how long I would be gone before I left.  By not being clear, I left a whole lot to be interpreted by others, expectations to be built, and effectively, I pulled out this great big, shiny new bear trap and set it.  You know the kind like you see in cartoons, with the huge jagged jaws and you have to step on both sides to pry it open?  Because when you're setting a trap for yourself, you really can feel it when it's happening, even though you try to deny it, or JUSTIFY (I know! Spooky word!) your actions.  That's how it was for me, I literally could FEEL myself standing on the jaws of that trap, PRYING it open, setting the trip pin, and then trying to carefully get free of it before it SNAPPED on me and crushed my leg and took my freedom.  


Did I stop when I recognized that feeling, that moment? Oh no...THAT would be much too simple and there would be no lesson learned!  Nope, I got clear of that trap very carefully and skipped off down the road for some "me" time, tra-la-la-la-laahhhhhh...


ADDING BAIT TO THE TRAP:  My Dad asked me if I was coming right back (DANGER-DANGER-Will Robinson) and I said.......wait for it........wait...........YES!  Oh yeah, that was exactly the moment that the bait was hung over the trap and everything was perfectly in place for that trap to catch something....aka: ME!


This was chance number two for me to be absolutely authentic and true to my feelings and my needs and to clarify with my parents about wanting some space and time to myself, but instead I got frustrated at my Dad asking.  I felt indignant and frustrated because he should "know" that I needed space!  Can you hear The Four Agreements cracking from the strain yet?  Eek!  


SNAP! THE TRAP IS SPRUNG:  I was gone less than two hours and the phone rings the first time...guess who's calling?  You guessed it...Dad.  "Are you on your way home yet?", he asks.  "No Dad, I'm not on my way home yet.", I reply.  "Well, when are you coming home?" he asks, "In a little bit." I reply, and then THOSE words came out..."You aren't drinking are you?" he asks.  At this point, my frustration level hits the roof, my blood is boiling, and I can feel my entire being tightening up as the stress and frustration grows like an angry monster inside me, and through gritted teeth and with an indignant tone, I say "No I am NOT drinking!"  My Dad then takes on this kind of mocking tone and says "Well, we're your support system, we're just checking on you to make sure you're okay."  Now, it's literally taking every bit of peace and patience within me to not throw the phone down or turn it off, but...I didn't.    Then about 30 minutes later, here comes phone call number two, second verse same as the first, except my frustration had transitioned into the ugly beast of stubbornness, where now I'm just mad because everybody's invading "my" time.  And finally phone call number three about 15 minutes after the last, with yet another "You're not drinking are you?"...here's the BEST part of the story though...not at ANY SINGLE MOMENT did I consider buying a beer or a cocktail and getting drunk!  Because let me tell you folks, two weeks ago, if I was hitting that same frustration level, that would have been the EXACT thing I did!  Because that's how I used to cope with stress and emotion.


Thanks to the excellent counter-conditioning and first class counselors that were a part of my treatment at Schick-Shadel Hospital though, I didn't drink, and I can think about how that whole scenario played out and recognize where I fell into old dysfunctional communication habits, and take this experience and learn from it.  


LESSON LEARNED:  It's okay for me to take time for me.  It's also okay for people to question whether I'm drinking or not, because let's face it, I haven't exactly set a great track record with my past actions.  I need to be direct and up front about my needs with people, ESPECIALLY with my SELF!  That was the point where last night first went wrong for me, I wasn't honest with myself.  I didn't admit to myself what I really needed, I buried that need and then hid it from everyone.  Good news is that the hiding was short lived and that I'm talking it out now, here with you.  The better news is that I did calm down, let go of the frustration, accepted and took credit for the HUGE WIN of the day which was NOT DRINKING and apologized to my parents, taking responsibility for my part in the Parent Trap.  And the best news...I got to wake up this morning sober and free from the craving of alcohol, and I remember everything I did yesterday because I was sober that day too!      

Blogging from Windows Live Writer

Hey friends!  I’ve been toying around with Windows Live for months now, and decided to try to get a little more familiar with so many of the cool features that are now available. 

So when I was cropping this photo to use it as my new profile picture for this blog, I saw a link that said something about post to blog, so I clicked it and was taken to the setup screens to launch Windows Live Writer…and so far, so COOL!  It’s pretty fun.  Of course, because it’s a Windows offering, it probably plays best with Windows blogs, and my beloved Blogspot was grouped into the “other” category for compatible blogs, but I “didn’t take it personally” and decided to go ahead and try it. 

I’m digging how I can use emoticons with just keyboard prompts (see above).  Pretty cute smiley face, eh?    Ha!  I did it again!  Tell me what you think? 

Do you blog?  Do you have tips or tricks you would like to share with a new blogger?  I’m here to learn and share, so BRING IT!

Operation Save My House

This is an idea that also worked itself out in the pre-dawn moments of my sleep before I awoke on Easter Sunday.  In my dream I saw myself asking for help from my friends and I saw them being SUPER supportive and encouraging.  I saw the chains of my pride fall and give way to a freedom that felt so real and warm that when I woke up, it was as if I was in autopilot, I just knew what I had to do. Have you ever experienced a moment like that?  Where you just know what you need to do, and the effort doesn't feel like effort, it feels natural and almost automatic?  Well, that's what it was like for me.  


I walked into the home office and logged onto facebook, where I began tentatively, kind of testing the water with my toes to see how chilly it was, which is kind of funny, because those of you who know me well and have known me for years, know that I am NOT that girl!  I am the girl who just blasts off the bridge or embankment and bombs right in, no matter how cold the water is.  But matters of pride, beliefs, and emotion are WAY scarier than even the unknown depths of icy cold water.  


It took me two status updates, a couple of warm, supportive comments, and the courage was bolstered enough to strip away the pride, let the stubborn side of me go, and come clean to all who purport to "know" me, and tell the truth of my situation; my house is in foreclosure.  


Talk about taking a LOAD off!  Wow!  It was such a huge relieving feeling for me to take the mask off and stop pretending that everything is hunky-dory.  So if any of you have some deep, dark, awful monkey on your back (aka: a difficult conversation, telling the truth about some deep dark secret, whatever), my suggestion is to get it off your chest.  You might be pleasantly surprised at how relieving it is.

2 Weeks Out - A Dream Takes Shape

Wow!  I cannot hardly believe that I've been out of Schick for two weeks already!  It seems so surreal most days that I actually did it, that I actually made it to rehab and completed the treatment...but I did.  :)


One of the things that I've been experiencing since I quit drinking alcohol is dreaming.  I never really dreamed while I lived in my alcohol induced fog.  But now that the fog and spider webs created by the booze are beginning to clear, my sleep just before waking is filled with very vivid and memorable dreams.  Very much my subconscious working out the details of the issues in my life, bringing clarity and focus and thoughts of creative resolutions to these issues.  And with my state of employment currently qualified as UNemployed, it wasn't so shocking that my dreams this morning centered around how to make a living to support my family.  I had a very inspiring dream about following my passion for writing and somehow turning that into a career.  


Part of that dream was how to get the practical experience or more appropriately, the PRACTICE experience of writing to an audience, while keeping the topic something I actually WANT to write about, AND where to start...and well...I'M HERE!  Ha!  Yep, that's right, or that's WRITE...I thought what better way to practice to an audience, than to start a blog that I can use as a sort of therapeutic journal and talk to my audience (aka: YOU) like the trusted friends and confidants that you are?  So I am going for it, as they say!  


You are now front row seated for the birth of my dream, spawned from the afterbirth of my alcoholism, the virtual rebirth of me.  This is my story, the story of me, and how I broke free from the chains of addiction to alcohol, what's brought me here and where I'm going.  As I share my daily struggle, as a real person, an ordinary person, a person who could be your daughter, your aunt, your sister, your cousin, your mother...a person who could be the girl next door or the teacher in your child's classroom, because that's what an alcoholic looks like.  That's what I look like.  I look like nobody and everybody you've ever known.  I am one of the many faces of alcoholism, but I am not my disease, I am me...I AM REAL.