I Have a Voice, Part Two

In order to stay in recovery, one of the things I must practice is releasing blame. I heard a speaker say recently, “Victims don’t stay sober.” And I can probably extrapolate from that that victims don’t maintain mental/emotional health, either. I don’t necessarily need to accept responsibility for everything that has happened to me; however, I do need to accept responsibility for my reactions and I do need to accept responsibility for my healing. Others may assist in my healing, pointing things out to me, holding my hand, and/or guiding the way, but in the end, I am the person responsible for my life. A big part of accepting responsibility is acknowledging and accepting those instances where my thinking and actions have been less than skillful, forgiving myself, and learning new, more skillful ways to think and act.

All that being said, I wanted to write down a couple of things I experienced while I was an elementary school student that I’ve never written down before, and almost never talked about. The first is what I remember from 1st grade: I remember standing in the corner in the front of the classroom with my back toward the class. I turned around to look at the class, and my 1st grade teacher said, very sternly, “Turn around. Nobody wants to see your face.” This is one of those things that some folks can use for humorous stories later in life. Not me. First, I do not remember to this day what I said or did that sent me into the corner. Second, as was my custom back then, I never talked about this incident – to anybody. Third, I believed what she said, and my thinking back then was that if somebody was pissed at me, they were pissed off for life. There was no forgiveness, or problem resolution or anything like that. Each ‘bad’ thing I did, each mistake I made, became another brick in my wall of self-hatred that separated me from you, God, and everybody else.

The second thing that impacted me greatly in elementary school involved the band. Starting in the 5th grade, we had the opportunity to begin to learn to play band instruments and take lessons. The instructor was on loan from the middle school. I was interested in learning to play the baritone. I am musically inclined, and had begun my piano studies some 3 years earlier. The band met before school started in the little library. Due to the low amount of regular attendees, the instructor began thinking about cutting out the band program at our school. I did not want to lose this opportunity, and I voiced (to somebody, I don't remember exactly who) that I really would like the band to continue. I remember a teacher, a Mrs. ____, telling me in no uncertain terms that whether or not the band existed was none of my business, and that I needed to learn to keep my opinions to myself. As I write this, I feel a great amount of sadness, hurt, and anger. Back then, I probably felt that too, but, per my M.O., I kept it to myself.

I use these examples to illustrate what I learned very early in life - #1, I needed to avoid pissing anybody off. #2, If I needed or wanted something, the thing to do was not to ask, but to somehow get what I wanted without you knowing I was getting what I wanted. Over the years, I honed my skills at being a devious little shit.

There have been lots of consequences from running my life this way, not the least of which has been spending 5 years of my life incarcerated in jail and prison. The deeper damage was that I never learned to express my true self in appropriate and healthy ways, and I stuffed a lot and I tried to drink and drug a lot away. I really am surprised to this day that I am as physically healthy as I am. I understand that stuffing our feelings and covering up who we are creates all sorts of stress-related disease processes in our body, and, so far, all I seem to have acquired is alcoholism and depression. I suppose that's enough.

Today I am learning a different way. I'm learning that, yes, there are some people who do want to see my face, despite the fact that sometimes I do and/or say stuff that is inappropriate. Today I'm learning that it is ok to be human, that the experience, though messy and fraught with trials and tribulations, is quite natural and normal and can sometimes be quite joyful. Today I'm learning that I was not created to cover up who I am, but to discover who I am and to share who I am (appropriately) with others. And I'm learning that it's ok for someone to be pissed off at what I say or do, that my responsibility is not to regulate anyone else's feelings, but to regulate my thoughts, feelings, and actions so that I am always endeavoring to express the best of that which I am capable. Today I'm learning to ask for what I need or want, and that it's ok to be told no. Today I'm learning that it is much better to be up front, that my desires aren't wrong, they are simply my desires.

It's a long process. This blog is part of that process. Sharing my story in person with others is part of the process. Openly and honestly interacting with others is part of the process. To this day, there's not a day that goes by that I don't hear the critical voice in my head telling me how stupid I am for speaking up or for taking risks. I don't think there's a medication to shut that voice up, but I think I'm teaching that voice bit by bit that I am safe and loved, and it is ok for me to have a voice and express who I am.

Namaste,

Ken


 

I Have a Voice, Part One

In former posts I have shared a little about some of the organizations I utilize to support my recovery. The organizations to which I belong are very important to me. Every human being has value and worth simply by virtue of being here. That is the Truth. I understand that concept in my head, and I can understand it for others, but I have difficulty most of the time understanding it for myself in my heart. When out there in the world, I can easily get lost. I don't know who I am, and when I look to others to figure that out, I end up comparing, and I usually end up on the short side. I am unable to recognize on my own what a truly wonderful and unique expression of Spirit I am, and I go back to the old belief that I can't fit it, I can't measure up, and I might as well be dead.

Fortunately, I have found groups of people with shared experiences who are on the same path as I am. One of these groups is the Waukesha Chapter of NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Illness). When I began my recovery a little over a year ago, it was suggested to me by more than one person that I might check out a NAMI support group. Even though I've made a home in substance abuse recovery groups for years, I was reticent about checking out NAMI or any other mental health support groups. A bunch of people sitting around talking about their mental illnesses did not sound like a very fun time. It sounded sort of depressing, and I didn't need any help in getting depressed - I manage that pretty well on my own!

But, because I was desperate and willing to do anything to recover, I went to Care Connection. (Please at this point read my disclaimer to the right, underneath the copyright notice - my views are a culmination of over a 1/2 century's experience, and I've gotten a lot of ideas from a lot of sources. Some of those ideas don't necessarily agree with the ideas put forth in the organizations I may attend, so I claim them as my own and not anyone else's. Capiche?). Care Connection is one of NAMI - Waukesha's support groups. It is for both individuals who have experienced mental illness and for the loved ones of those who have experienced/are experiencing mental illness. Loved ones are affected, too! just like with alcoholism. Anyway, at Care Connection, I found I related to the people there. That was surprising to me. An even better surprise was that these people seemed to be living in the solution (mental health), not in the problem (mental illness). It wasn't depressing! It was interesting! It was fun!

Most of all, I began to discover that I have a voice.

I brought all of me to these groups. They are a safe haven for those of us with beautiful minds. As I've mentioned before, I've been attending substance abuse recovery groups for a long time. There I would watch people work a program of recovery from substance abuse, and I'd see them get better. There I tried to work a program of recovery, and I would stay sober, and inside I'd get worse. And sometimes I felt different and less-than. Here I was in a strong group with other recovering alcoholics and addicts, and there was something missing in me. There was something wrong with me.

Because I hadn't ever accepted that I have another mental illness besides substance abuse, I had rarely looked for another or an additional vehicle for recovery. I spent a lot of years in pain and misery when the answer was just next door. Now I utilize both NAMI support groups and the substance abuse recovery groups.

At Care Connection I found support, understanding, friendship, and compassion. As I continued on the path, I also began going to a Thursday night peer support group held at the NAMI office. And I enrolled in, participated, and completed a 10-week Peer-to-Peer  course which focused on mental health, wellness, and recovery for anyone experiencing a mental health challenge. And then, I was asked to be a Peer Mentor, which involved learning to facilitate the Peer-to-Peer program. And then, I became involved with Stories of Hope, where pairs of us in recovery share our stories of recovery with patients in various mental health treatment programs. And this weekend, I will be going for training to be a Peer Support Group facilitator. Additionally, I also volunteer at the NAMI office, which is fun and enriching.

My involvement with NAMI does a number of things for me:
1. It keeps me in recovery - my commitment to NAMI means to me that I must stay in recovery if I want to be involved;
2. It gives me a vehicle to be of service to others. I can share my experience with recovery with others;
3. It broadens my world - I've met people this past year that I never would have dreamed of meeting, and they're in my life and I am grateful;
4. It gives me a safe and supportive place where I can be me while at the same time develop and grow into an even better me.
5. It gives me lots of stuff to think about and write about, and it gives me hope.

I have heard than when the student is ready, the teacher appears, and I believe this to be the Truth. I spent a lot of time getting ready, lemme tell ya, but I've also been given the most awesome teachers.

Namaste,

Ken

Fuddy-dud?

My therapist has told me at least twice that if I continue to practice improving my thinking, a more positive attitude will become natural to me, just like my negative attitude is still fairly prevalent - at least as far as first thoughts go. I doubted this, even though it's part of what I preach.

This morning, I was loading my laundry onto my bike when I heard something hit the ground. I looked down and saw that my mirror had broken off. I immediately said, "Oh, fuddy-dud." Then I stopped and thought, "Where did that come from?"

You see, I'm very familiar with feeling frustrated and overwhelmed. Laundry is not my favorite household task, especially when it involves traveling some distance to get it done. And early morning has not historically been the best time to catch me in a good mood. I was shocked this morning, because my former response to my mirror falling off would have been much more profane, and possibly even a little violent. I have been practicing finding a better thought/reaction to the little things in life that frustrate/overwhelm me. I don't like the fact that little things can really get to me. Now it looks like I can say, "I used to let little things get to me."

It looks like my therapist might be right!

And little things like this, while not really fit for the front page of the newspaper, give me confidence and hope that I can turn my thinking around, with practice. That's good news!

Namaste,

Ken

Flow Like Water

A few weeks ago I was planning on giving something to a friend whom I was to meet at a recovery meeting. I was unable to go to the meeting, so I gave the item to another friend who was going there too, and he took it. The friend whom I was supposed to meet texted me and said he wouldn't be at the meeting either, so I called another friend whom I knew would probably be there and would be able to get the item to my friend. He said he'd be there and pick up the thing for me and give it to my friend in a few days. I texted my friend, the intended recipient of the item, and said it was taken care of, and I felt really good inside. I felt good that I was able to 'manage' that, and that it went off really well. I don't feel that way too often - in fact, I feel that way so infrequently that it is notable when I do feel that way - like things are going my way, or like my will is aligned with 'God's will'.

Then I began to think about it all, and really wondered if I felt good because I thought I had orchestrated it. My plan worked! I was able to get object X from point A to point B by using my own resources! I smelled a little ego.

I've been taught, and I have experienced, that not everything that seems 'bad' to me is really ultimately bad, and not everything that I think is 'good' is necessarily good. I've gotten lots of stuff I've prayed and wished for, and then turned around and prayed to be relieved of the stuff I've gotten. It wasn't what I wanted after all.

I've been taught, and I have experienced, that the Universe is conspiring for my (and everybody's) highest good. If I look back on my fifty-some-odd years (and some of them were pretty odd!) I can see that it is true - I'm reasonably happy with where I'm at today, and with what I've experienced and learned so far.

What if what happened that day that made me feel so good was going to happen anyway, and I just happened to be there to witness it? What if I viewed everything that happens in me, through me, and around me, with acceptance and gratitude? For instance, what would happen if I became grateful for the mental and emotional anguish that makes me seek out others for the solution? (Which happens to be sharing my recovery with others, which I judge as really cool). What if everything really was all right? What would that look like? How would that feel? It's such a radical, against most everything I've been taught idea, that I really can't wrap my head around it all at once. However, I can, bit-by-bit, experience-by-experience, begin to be open to the idea that it's all good. And I can begin to become more happy and at peace.

A friend of mine had suggested a couple of years ago that I might 'flow like water'. Water takes the path of least resistance. Water can move quickly, it can move slowly, it can move with great force or as a gentle caress. What it doesn't do is try to do what it can't, nor does it get pissed off when its way is blocked, turn around, go home and sulk. It simply moves another way. No regrets - maybe some tears, it's hard to tell with water - it just moves in the direction in which it moves. Yet, water is very important and very powerful. Humans and many (all?) life forms would not exist without it. Water can carve the Grand Canyon, generate power for millions of people, and sink unsinkable ships. What would it feel like to flow through this day like water, neither fighting or running away from whatever I encounter, but accepting what I encounter and flowing through it or around it, as the case may be?

Namaste

Ken

Fear Sells

I don't watch TV news regularly anymore - not having a TV helps with that quite a bit. I discovered that the script was the same for each newscast, it was just the names that changed - who killed who, which politician was found to be a child molester, how bad the economy is, etc. The newscasts go on, even though I rarely watch them, but my view of life improves. Today I have more choice in what I choose to focus on, and I learn every day how to focus on what is good in life, good in people, and good in me. And it is a Universal Law that what I focus on increases. As it turns out, I have my work cut out for me, as I have a long history of focusing on the negative, and it takes a long time to create new neural pathways so that I can learn to automatically focus on what is going right with me rather than what is going wrong. It can be done, though.

Our society is such that very often we get into a state of what singer-songwriter Jana Stanfield has termed, "Too much not-enoughism." Each day we're told, in one way or another, ways in which we're lacking, or things that we should fear. Much of the time, we accept this without question. We accept what the media and politicians tell us is wrong with us and wrong with our country and the world. Very rarely are we told that, as far as human beings living on this planet at this time in the United States, we've got it made. (I know I have some international readers, so this may not be true for them). If one thinks about what one has today compared with what their parents and grandparents had, it's easy to see that, in a relative way, we are living in safe times and in the lap of luxury.

I'm not a social commentator. Well, I am, sort of, but that's not my aim here. My aim here is to write about my experience in learning how to view this world, this life, and myself in a way which is constructive and contributes to my mental, emotional, and physical well being, and hopefully to the well-being of those with whom I have contact.

I know that mental illness and alcoholism feeds on fear - fear of what the consequences of my behavior might be, fear of the future, fear of people, and what they may do to me, fear that I'll never be good enough, fear of (fill in the blank). When fear overwhelms me, I crawl inside my safe (but miserable) little shell and begin to self-destruct.

Alcohol erased those fears - for a minute. Other drugs and other behaviors did, too - but when the fears returned, they were bigger and stronger than before, and I discovered that there's not enough booze distilled to drown my fears. So what is my solution?

My solution is not to keep looking outside of myself for the solution. My solution is to continually discover that I am not alone (that is simply an illusion of physical reality), that I am one part of a greater whole, and that I am, in Truth, always connected, and that I am already equipped with everything I need to live an abundant, joyous, productive creative life.

One of the methods I like to use to visualize this concept is to go out into nature. As I look at an oak tree, for instance, I realize that at one time this oak was an acorn on the ground. It needed no instruction to begin to germinate, and to eventually become the oak it is today. Today that oak knows when to shed its leaves and when to grow new ones. The oak has available to it all it needs to survive, and it doesn't need to be told to breath in carbon dioxide and to give back oxygen, which helps give life to the squirrels and birds and such that live around it. The oak tree probably doesn't fret when it rains or when it's cold, and doesn't get angry when a squirrel has the audacity to build its home in its branches.

The oak tree probably is not really aware that some oaks are bigger and some are smaller, and I doubt that the oak would like to be a maple tree next year. The oak does what it does for its life-cycle, caring not whether it's going to get what it needs, or how it appears to the other oaks, or if it smells bad, or how much it will gain during its lifetime. And at the end of its life, it returns to the ground from which it came to provide nutrients to other plants, animals, and insects (or it provides toasty, cozy evenings to humans who cut it up and warm their homes with it). The oak tree doesn't question its purpose, nor does it wonder whether it measures up as an oak. I've got a lot to learn from that oak tree.

So, how does studying an oak tree help me get rid of my fear of living? I can recognize today that, just as the oak did not decide one day to become an oak, I did not create myself. Something or someone else did. So, there is something greater at work here. There is a process happening of which I am mostly unaware most of the time. But the same process that supports the oak through its lifetime is also supporting me through my lifetime, and supporting all life everywhere, despite any outward appearances.

This is not the only method I use to support my mental health and my sobriety by far, but it is the basis - for me, I have to know that my life has purpose, meaning, and value, and that I am safe and loved.

When I look for things to fear, I find them. Doom and disaster lurks just around the corner. When I look for things to live for and for people to support me and walk through this experience together, I find people and experiences that help me to experience life in a new way, with less fear.

Namaste,

Ken

  

Trusting Myself

One issue I hear a lot about from people newly in recovery is about trust -  "When is my (partner, spouse, parent, child, boss) going to trust me again?" If we have experienced addiction, mental illness, or both, we have very often damaged the trust of those who are close to us and those who rely upon us. We may have stolen from others, lied to cover up our activities, or simply not shown up or been available when we were expected to be. We have broken promises and sometimes engaged in very bizarre, unexplainable, destructive, and anti-social behavior. We were unpredictable, or predictably unpredictable. Our loved ones and peers knew we could do better, but we didn't, and so they began to lose faith in us.

Most of us when beginning recovery have no desire to repeat the behaviors that got us into recovery in the first place. We don't want to use alcohol or drugs anymore, or at least we don't want to experience the trouble that their use brings. We don't want to have the symptoms of our mental illness inhibit our ability to be responsible and caring individuals. And we would like those around us to believe us. Yet it is difficult - after repeated lies, promises to do better, and even periods of recovery followed by more relapse and the same ol' stuff, the people who are closest to us will find it difficult to believe us and to be supportive. What can we do?

I believe that the first step in regaining the trust of anyone is to let go of any expectation that anyone will ever trust me again, and to let go of the need for others' trust. That allows me to do what I need to do, to do the right thing, without it being contingent on anyone believing I'm doing the right thing or not. For example - if due to my using or my illness, my attendance at work was unpredictable, I need to be willing to show up at work when I'm supposed to show up and perform to the best of my ability without expecting any accolades for doing the right thing. Personally, this is the best thing, because as far as accolades go, they're like alcohol to me, and if they start coming I can never get enough. However, if I am not expecting that I deserve or need them, when they do come, and they do, they are pleasant surprises for which I can be thankful.

Second, to regain the trust of those around me, I need to admit promptly when I'm wrong. This has been the biggest help to my relationship with those around me, especially at work. My routine used to be to try to cover up my mistakes. I lied. I blamed. I told the other person they were wrong. Now when I make a mistake, or say something stupid, I admit my error and apologize. Quick story - I did not discover how well this worked because I am virtuous - I discovered it because I didn't want to be responsible for killing anybody. I used to work for an outfit that manufactured control panels and units for high powered electrical stuff. If I made a mistake and whatever I was working on went out the door without anyone else discovering the mistake, there was the potential that down the road someone could be seriously injured or killed. So I got in the practice of letting people know when I screwed up. In turn, when a supervisor asked me about a mistake they discovered and I told them it wasn't mine, they believed me. I think this concept will fit any area of life, not just work.

Third, and probably most important in regaining the trust of those around me and creating a sustainable recovery, I must begin the process of trusting myself. We may not think about this much - I know I didn't, until somebody brought it up. I will write in the first person singular, but I'll bet many can relate: I continually had high aspirations for myself that I was unable to meet because of my illness and/or my substance abuse. I remember saying that I'd never go to jail. I actually did want to finish college. I did want to stay married for the rest of my life. I do want to keep this job. I do want to get up on time tomorrow. I do want to stay sober. I do want to stay sane. Each and every time I broke a promise to myself, each and every time I disappointed myself, I broke my contract with me - I broke my own word. Coming into recovery there's no way I could say to myself or anybody else that I'll never drink again or never get sick again, because I've said that to myself so many times and gone ahead and done it anyway. I did not come into recovery because, "Gosh durn it, I need to start living differently!" I came into recovery because it's the last stop before giving up entirely.

So, how do I begin to trust myself? I think there are a few guidelines I can follow for myself:
1. Watch what I say. Can I do what I say I'm going to do? Or am I just trying to please and appease others?
2. Set reasonable goals. If I plan on showing up somewhere on time, how will that happen? What resources do I need? Do I need to enlist the help of others? This applies, too, to any personal goals I might have. If I say to myself that I'm going to lose 20 pounds by next week, uhm, that's not going to happen. At least not in any way that is healthy and positive.
3. Live a day at a time. No matter what day it is, there's a lot going on. If I'd like to go back to school next year, what can I do today to make that a reality? If I want to have a car 6 months from now, what can I do today to make that happen?
4. Ask for help/be accountable. I'm not an island. I don't live in a vacuum, and everything I do affects somebody else, if only indirectly. So, it makes sense to have someone in my life to whom I go for sound advice/support, and someone with whom I share my plans with so I can be held accountable.
5. Begin to trust in Divine or Universal guidance. I live in a friendly supportive universe that is constantly conspiring for my highest good. (That's a bit of a turnaround from what my view use to be, so I'll say it again: I live in a friendly supportive universe that is constantly and continuously conspiring for my highest good.) The bottom line is that I'd be dead by now if this were not true. So, what does that mean to me? I don't have to manipulate, lie, or steal to receive all I need for today and beyond. I simply have to find the flow and go with it. When I encounter resistance, I can take a step back and see whether that resistance is coming from within or without, and find out what I need to do about it. Trusting that the best days of my life are ahead of me, I don't have to wheel and deal to make it so, and that eliminates just a whole bunch of un-trustworthy type thoughts and behavior right there.
6. Accept that I am human and admit when I make a mistake. And don't beat myself up for it. Mistakes are lessons. Mistakes are indicators that I have room to grow, which is a good thing. Mistakes are indicators that I need a higher power, which is a good thing. Mistakes can be used to help others, which is a good thing. Mistakes are indicators that I'm not better than nor worse than anybody else, and that's a good thing, too. I guess my mistakes are good!

Anyway, I certainly can't change anyone's view of me. What I can change is how I think, behave, and view myself, and how I view others. When I allow others their own opinions and concern myself only with how well I'm living up to my standards, and adjust my behavior accordingly, I'll begin to trust myself, and the trust of others will follow along.

Namaste,

Ken

Simplicity

In addition to having abstained from alcohol for over a year, I've also found that it has been over a year since I've felt compelled to engage in road rage. That's not a causal relationship; what it is is that my last vehicle took it's final dump in April, 2015, and I haven't replaced it with another motor vehicle. I now walk, ride my bicycle, ask for rides, or ride the bus. If I get road rage while riding the bus, then I've really got issues!
Here are the benefits I've experienced as a result of motor vehicle liberation (that's the positive way of saying 'I don't have a car'):
Increased serenity.
Reduced stress - I don't have the stress of trying to navigate my community's crazy traffic; I no longer worry when my next brake job is due every time I step on the brake; I don't have to worry about the weird noises coming from underneath the hood (I never really did - that's what car radios are made for); I don't have to worry about my vehicle breaking down; and I don't have to worry about how I'm going to fill the gas tank. Add to the list anything you want - insurance expenses, traffic tickets, depreciation, whatever.
Increased health - walking and riding my bike is healthy! And it's more enjoyable, which leads to reduced stress and increased serenity. And when I listen to my MP3 player on the bus, I can meditate or listen to motivational/inspirational messages on my ride in to work.
Money Savings - I haven't actually calculated the amount of money I haven't spent on gas, repairs, and insurance, but I'll bet it's a lot. The reason I haven't calculated that total is because I don't yet make enough money to spend on gas, repairs, and insurance. So, I'm avoiding the stress of figuring out where to get money to support a vehicle and, in turn, I'm reducing stress, increasing serenity, and benefiting my health!
Increased organizational skills - because I can't just hop in my car and go when an idea strikes me, I have to plan my trips to work, to the store, to recovery meetings, to just about everywhere. I have to say 'no' to some opportunities presented me. I have to ask for help sometimes. All of this keeps me more mindful of what I'm doing and where I'm going and what's important to me. If something important to me is happening in Appleton, I'll find a way there.
Smaller carbon footprint - I'm not contributing as much as I used to to world pollution and global warming. I don't really care that much, to be honest, but it is true.
Increased socialization/decreased isolation -  this could go either way, really - I could choose to use the excuse of not having a car to avoid interacting w/my fellow human beings, and I have done that a few times. Most of the time, however, I'll ask for a ride and spend time getting to know my chauffeur, and letting them get to know me.

So, for the past year I've experienced all of the above benefits and more. My brain likes to tell me that the more I do, the better off I am. My brain lies a lot. I used to spend a good chunk of each day in my vehicle, running here, going there, doing this and that. Much of it was unproductive and unnecessary. Much of it unnecessarily increased my stress, which in turn decreased my health and serenity. I would take on stuff which wasn't mine to take on, and I seriously complicated my life. I now know that the lifestyle I led contributed greatly to my relapse.

Now, as a responsible adult with a valid driver's license, I know that eventually I will have a car or a van again. I have more responsibilities in my life than I had a year ago, and having my own vehicle will facilitate the fulfillment of my responsibilities. I hope I remember when I do get a vehicle to use it mindfully, and to continue to use my other forms of transportation as well. Most of all I hope to always remember to keep my recovery and my serenity and my health as #1, and to remember that I do not need a motor vehicle to be happy, healthy, and sober.

Namaste,

Ken