Today I celebrate 18 months of recovery from alcoholism and depression.
We celebrate milestones in recovery because, well, we just do. Each and every day I work at (sometimes play at) relapse prevention, and that's what a lot of recovery is - staying away from the next drink, or the next emotional or mental relapse. Learning how to live life on life's terms. Learning how to get along with myself and with others. Learning how to recognize and utilize my Higher Power. Learning how to live.
Milestones give us a chance to reflect back whence we came. I told my spiritual advisor this evening that I couldn't have even imagined being where I'm at today 18 months ago. And I certainly didn't have my eye on today 18 months ago - I had my eye on getting through this morning, this afternoon, this evening. I still don't think too far ahead - I don't seem to be too well equipped to do that yet.
Milestones also give us a chance to let others know that they can recover, too. If I can do it, surely you can. Milestones are also the only objective measurement tool we have for recovery. I can measure the amount of time definitely between now and the last time I used alcohol or another mood-altering drug. In other words, I can say that I have abstained from alcohol for 18 months, but I'd be lying if I told you that I've been perfect in every other way since then as well. I will let you know that my character defects and maladaptive beliefs, which fueled my drinking and my mental illness, have lessened quite a bit, but they're still there.
The basic ingredients to recovery are still the same: surrender, humility, and willingness, borne out of desperation; then honesty, openmindedness, acceptance, faith, perseverance, and service to others. These basic ingredients have to be in my recovery 'cocktail', but the amounts vary from day to day.
Lastly, I want to let you know how grateful I am for you. Your presence, your support, your encouragement, your patience and compassion, and your kind words have saved this life, and I thank you.
Namaste,
Ken
Monday, November 21, 2016
Sunday, November 20, 2016
Becoming Better Organized - Part I
This is related to my last post. I recognize that if I want to succeed in my current vocational pursuits, I will have to become a little more focused, and a lot more organized.
And I'm not sure if it's going to be 'more organized' or 'less spontaneous'. You see, as noted in an earlier post, one of the trademarks of those experiencing alcoholism and/or addiction is that we have our operating system reversed. So-called 'normal' people make most of their decisions based on intellect over emotion. Alcoholics and addicts get to the point in our lives where our emotions run the show. The way I feel is my top priority. That's not a skillful way to operate in life, and it takes daily practice to get back to the understanding that if I take the right actions, eventually my emotions will follow suit, and I'll get them under control. I got very used to controlling the way I feel by dabbling in chemicals or in certain behaviors (eating, shopping, etc.) that alter my mood. This makes my life unmanageable, and to turn that around I need to begin to take skillful actions no matter what my feelings are saying. So, that's really a lot of what I do each day - practice acknowledging what I'm feeling, and then practice doing the next right thing anyway.
There's also a part of me - a big part, admittedly - that fears organization. There's a part of me that prefers chaos over order. (Note: people who have grown up experiencing abuse have a tendency to become addicted to the physical 'excitement' that abuse creates, and when the abuse is gone, can go through a withdrawal). There is something exciting about sleeping until 1 hour before work starts and seeing if I can make it on time. There is something exciting about jamming my schedule so tight that if something unexpected happens, I'm going to be late or miss a commitment. There is something exciting about wondering if someone is going to be pissed at me because I'm running late or missing a commitment. And there is something exciting about going to the store and seeing if my card will be accepted because I really don't know how much is in my account. Yes, I like living on the edge!
And this is one of the reasons that recovery from addiction is so much more that removing the addictive substance from my life. The drug is only partially responsible for creating the un-manageability in my life - the rest of the un-manageability is created by deeply ingrained thought processes, and, if I don't work on transforming my thought processes into something that works for me, I will return to using the substance.
I do not want to say that I am disorganized - I'm not. Saying 'I am disorganized' is untrue, it's a cop-out, and it's making me my own victim. I am organized. If I were disorganized, I'd be starving, needing a shower, wearing stinky clothes (if I were wearing clothes at all), with no place to live, and no job to go to. My life is organized well enough to live at the level at which I'm living now. But I desire to be healthier, more useful, more purposeful, more prosperous. In order to move in the direction of my desires, I need to increase my level of organization.
Now, if I were to write a list of all the ways in which I could be better organized, I would be overwhelmed and just not do it. There's too much stuff! All areas of my life could stand some improvement!
One of the areas of my life that seems to invite improvement is consistency. I know lots of good life practices. Tons. Practicing any of them consistently? Not so much. So perhaps I need to pick one or two things and start doing them consistently, and see what happens.
Here's where I'll admit something that is difficult for me to admit - I am not consistent with prayer and meditation. I pray daily, and I meditate daily, but I do it in different ways and at different times. Now, that's ok, and it's ok to pray and meditate whenever I get the chance. I don't need to stop doing that. But what's coming to me is that it would be helpful to have one set period of time each day to engage in reflection, prayer, and meditation. (This is not a new discovery folks).
So, what I am going to commit to, this one thing that I'm going to do to start down the road of becoming better organized, is to set aside a time each night that will be dedicated to quiet time with my Creator - prayer, meditation, and planning. Let's pick 10pm for starters (it's 10:14 right now, so I'm already late, but that's nothing new). The reason I'm picking night time is because my least productive time is when I wake up, and I happen to know, for myself, that how I go to bed heavily influences how I wake up. If I go to bed tired and pissed off, guess what? I wake up tired and pissed off. This might be why Jesus suggested not letting the sun go down on our anger - it makes for a crappy night's sleep, and when we wake up, we're still angry! Yesterday's problems today. Hmmph. Additionally, in the Hebrew tradition, the day actually starts at sunset, because, in the creation stories, the very first thing was darkness. And, if I start my day with prayer, meditation, planning, and 6-8 hours rest, it's bound to be a great day!
So there you have it. I'll start with that, and let you know how it goes.
I am grateful for the opportunity to think on paper, as it were - it's so much more helpful that swishing ideas around in my head.
Namaste,
Ken
And I'm not sure if it's going to be 'more organized' or 'less spontaneous'. You see, as noted in an earlier post, one of the trademarks of those experiencing alcoholism and/or addiction is that we have our operating system reversed. So-called 'normal' people make most of their decisions based on intellect over emotion. Alcoholics and addicts get to the point in our lives where our emotions run the show. The way I feel is my top priority. That's not a skillful way to operate in life, and it takes daily practice to get back to the understanding that if I take the right actions, eventually my emotions will follow suit, and I'll get them under control. I got very used to controlling the way I feel by dabbling in chemicals or in certain behaviors (eating, shopping, etc.) that alter my mood. This makes my life unmanageable, and to turn that around I need to begin to take skillful actions no matter what my feelings are saying. So, that's really a lot of what I do each day - practice acknowledging what I'm feeling, and then practice doing the next right thing anyway.
There's also a part of me - a big part, admittedly - that fears organization. There's a part of me that prefers chaos over order. (Note: people who have grown up experiencing abuse have a tendency to become addicted to the physical 'excitement' that abuse creates, and when the abuse is gone, can go through a withdrawal). There is something exciting about sleeping until 1 hour before work starts and seeing if I can make it on time. There is something exciting about jamming my schedule so tight that if something unexpected happens, I'm going to be late or miss a commitment. There is something exciting about wondering if someone is going to be pissed at me because I'm running late or missing a commitment. And there is something exciting about going to the store and seeing if my card will be accepted because I really don't know how much is in my account. Yes, I like living on the edge!
And this is one of the reasons that recovery from addiction is so much more that removing the addictive substance from my life. The drug is only partially responsible for creating the un-manageability in my life - the rest of the un-manageability is created by deeply ingrained thought processes, and, if I don't work on transforming my thought processes into something that works for me, I will return to using the substance.
I do not want to say that I am disorganized - I'm not. Saying 'I am disorganized' is untrue, it's a cop-out, and it's making me my own victim. I am organized. If I were disorganized, I'd be starving, needing a shower, wearing stinky clothes (if I were wearing clothes at all), with no place to live, and no job to go to. My life is organized well enough to live at the level at which I'm living now. But I desire to be healthier, more useful, more purposeful, more prosperous. In order to move in the direction of my desires, I need to increase my level of organization.
Now, if I were to write a list of all the ways in which I could be better organized, I would be overwhelmed and just not do it. There's too much stuff! All areas of my life could stand some improvement!
One of the areas of my life that seems to invite improvement is consistency. I know lots of good life practices. Tons. Practicing any of them consistently? Not so much. So perhaps I need to pick one or two things and start doing them consistently, and see what happens.
Here's where I'll admit something that is difficult for me to admit - I am not consistent with prayer and meditation. I pray daily, and I meditate daily, but I do it in different ways and at different times. Now, that's ok, and it's ok to pray and meditate whenever I get the chance. I don't need to stop doing that. But what's coming to me is that it would be helpful to have one set period of time each day to engage in reflection, prayer, and meditation. (This is not a new discovery folks).
So, what I am going to commit to, this one thing that I'm going to do to start down the road of becoming better organized, is to set aside a time each night that will be dedicated to quiet time with my Creator - prayer, meditation, and planning. Let's pick 10pm for starters (it's 10:14 right now, so I'm already late, but that's nothing new). The reason I'm picking night time is because my least productive time is when I wake up, and I happen to know, for myself, that how I go to bed heavily influences how I wake up. If I go to bed tired and pissed off, guess what? I wake up tired and pissed off. This might be why Jesus suggested not letting the sun go down on our anger - it makes for a crappy night's sleep, and when we wake up, we're still angry! Yesterday's problems today. Hmmph. Additionally, in the Hebrew tradition, the day actually starts at sunset, because, in the creation stories, the very first thing was darkness. And, if I start my day with prayer, meditation, planning, and 6-8 hours rest, it's bound to be a great day!
So there you have it. I'll start with that, and let you know how it goes.
I am grateful for the opportunity to think on paper, as it were - it's so much more helpful that swishing ideas around in my head.
Namaste,
Ken
Thursday, November 17, 2016
Am I Up to It?
This post was originally titled New Job, but it's not about my new job - it's about whether or not I'm up to it.
Ever since I began recovery 18 months ago, I have been endeavoring to embrace life, knowing that my basic problem has been a fear of life in general. I've spent a lot of years finding various methods of getting through this lifetime without engaging or risking too much. Some methods seem to work better than others, but, in the end, I haven't been able to bypass life. Or, at least, bypass it and be able to live with myself. So I suppose I'm destined to embrace the sucker.
The way that I have been learning to embrace life is to face and accept what comes my way, whether I like it or not. I'm not perfect at it - there are still a lot of things I like avoiding, but I avoid them less often and for less time.
It had gotten to the point where I had run out of dreams. I remember when I was younger, I used to have dreams of being this and doing that. The problem is that my doubts always seemed to grow bigger than my dreams.
The last dream I had was to be self-employed, and I actually did it. Some may say I failed at it; I say I didn't. It's more like the Wright brothers' first flight - they didn't get very far nor very high, but they flew. Same with me. And I might do it again sometime.
But after my supposed failure I relapsed, and when I came to, I was out of dreams. I was out of goals, and, as I've written numerous times, I couldn't live and I couldn't die. It's that 'couldn't die' part that got me to where I am today. I had to try something, so I took the suggestions of well-meaning people around me.
And I got led into situations and circumstances that were scary and outside of my comfort zone, but I kept going, with the belief that if it's been presented to me, it must be mine to to do, and, if so, I am supported by the Universe in doing whatever it is. And this is why I am working for LSS and NAMI-Waukesha - neither of these jobs did I ask for or apply for - I was asked to work for them. It appears that I have talents for listening to people and dispensing recovery information. There's more to it than that, but that's the basics.
Today I received an offer for full-time employment at NAMI, and I accepted. This job was not on my bucket list. It's not something I've aspired to do, or even formally trained for. It's just that I have a lot of experience in what works (and what doesn't work) in recovery, and I enjoy sharing that experience and any wisdom I've gained along the way. So basically I'm getting paid for having a mental health condition. It's good work, if you can get it.
But there's other things that go along with the job at NAMI and the job at LSS that I'm not so sure about. It's not all chatting with folks. There are administrative tasks, committees to sit on, projects to participate in, reading and learning to do, etc. Both jobs are much more than coming in and following instructions. Sometimes I even have to make my own instructions. All of that is scary to me. I'm not practiced at this self-directed type stuff. I've been known to be paralyzed by fear over "do I do A, or do I do B?"
So what keeps me going? Lots of things. Everything that I've embraced over the past 18 months has so far worked out really well, so I've got some success under my belt. In fact, today I do feel successful. So I have faith that if I continue on, I'll continue to experience more success (although that part of me that is waiting for the other shoe to drop is still alive - it's just quieter nowadays). As a result of my successes, I've been enjoying recovery more than I ever have before. And I know I must stay in recovery in order to do my jobs well. A big part of recovery, a huge part for me, is staying open and receptive to Spirit, and I recognize that anything good that comes out of me is God working through me. In and of myself, I'm just a depressed, suicidal drunk. When I open up and let my Higher Power in, the depressed, suicidal drunk is transformed into a useful human being. I do not know of a simpler way to put it.
So, a day at a time, with Spirit, and doing it with others, I would have to say, yes, I am up to it!
Namaste,
Ken
It had gotten to the point where I had run out of dreams. I remember when I was younger, I used to have dreams of being this and doing that. The problem is that my doubts always seemed to grow bigger than my dreams.
The last dream I had was to be self-employed, and I actually did it. Some may say I failed at it; I say I didn't. It's more like the Wright brothers' first flight - they didn't get very far nor very high, but they flew. Same with me. And I might do it again sometime.
But after my supposed failure I relapsed, and when I came to, I was out of dreams. I was out of goals, and, as I've written numerous times, I couldn't live and I couldn't die. It's that 'couldn't die' part that got me to where I am today. I had to try something, so I took the suggestions of well-meaning people around me.
And I got led into situations and circumstances that were scary and outside of my comfort zone, but I kept going, with the belief that if it's been presented to me, it must be mine to to do, and, if so, I am supported by the Universe in doing whatever it is. And this is why I am working for LSS and NAMI-Waukesha - neither of these jobs did I ask for or apply for - I was asked to work for them. It appears that I have talents for listening to people and dispensing recovery information. There's more to it than that, but that's the basics.
Today I received an offer for full-time employment at NAMI, and I accepted. This job was not on my bucket list. It's not something I've aspired to do, or even formally trained for. It's just that I have a lot of experience in what works (and what doesn't work) in recovery, and I enjoy sharing that experience and any wisdom I've gained along the way. So basically I'm getting paid for having a mental health condition. It's good work, if you can get it.
But there's other things that go along with the job at NAMI and the job at LSS that I'm not so sure about. It's not all chatting with folks. There are administrative tasks, committees to sit on, projects to participate in, reading and learning to do, etc. Both jobs are much more than coming in and following instructions. Sometimes I even have to make my own instructions. All of that is scary to me. I'm not practiced at this self-directed type stuff. I've been known to be paralyzed by fear over "do I do A, or do I do B?"
So what keeps me going? Lots of things. Everything that I've embraced over the past 18 months has so far worked out really well, so I've got some success under my belt. In fact, today I do feel successful. So I have faith that if I continue on, I'll continue to experience more success (although that part of me that is waiting for the other shoe to drop is still alive - it's just quieter nowadays). As a result of my successes, I've been enjoying recovery more than I ever have before. And I know I must stay in recovery in order to do my jobs well. A big part of recovery, a huge part for me, is staying open and receptive to Spirit, and I recognize that anything good that comes out of me is God working through me. In and of myself, I'm just a depressed, suicidal drunk. When I open up and let my Higher Power in, the depressed, suicidal drunk is transformed into a useful human being. I do not know of a simpler way to put it.
So, a day at a time, with Spirit, and doing it with others, I would have to say, yes, I am up to it!
Namaste,
Ken
Monday, November 7, 2016
Passing Away
I hate writing about this. I really do.
I found out Saturday that someone in our recovery community passed away Friday night, probably from an overdose. It's very sad. She was a young person with a child. So she was someone's mother, someone's daughter, someone's sister, someone's partner, and a lot of folks' friend.
So how does this happen? Why does this happen?
I've been around death since I was 2 years old. I started walking at one of my grandfather's funeral. When I was 7, I saw my aunt dying from stomach cancer. Throughout the years, I've been to the funerals of relatives and friends. I've missed some, too - a very good friend of mine from college passed away in 1988. He was 28 years old. So I know that physical death is a part of life.
The ones that bother me are the ones who pass young. A classmate who was stabbed to death by her boyfriend when she was 19 or 20. My friend who passed over the weekend. A friend from Boy Scouts who was one of the nicest guys you'd want to know passed in service to his country. There's more.
I don't get into the hows and whys too very much - it's not healthy. It's dabbling in that which is not mine to dabble in. Otherwise I start telling God who should stay and who should go. I've done that before. The whole thing is a great big mystery to me.
Why am I alive today? I've had several overdoses, two of which put me in comas. I've punished myself more than anyone else possibly could have. Yet I'm here today, living, breathing, thriving, while people much better than me [judgment] have passed on. There isn't any logic in it at all.
Spiritually I know that death is sort of like moving out of state - we only cease to exist in this particular physical realm. How many realms are out there, I don't know. If one is a Christian, then they know the words of Jesus, who mentioned to His disciples that His Father's house has many mansions. This indicates that there are many different 'places' for us to exist.
I read a recent statistic that said that people with a chronic mental condition (and addiction is a mental health condition) typically have a life span 25 years less than those without mental health conditions. That's a lot less!
But here's the real deal: Sometimes, maybe often, wonderful people who are a real asset to this world and who are much loved and admired die much too soon [judgment]. As an alcoholic, I can faithfully say that it would be my own inaccurate perception of myself that would cause me to die from my disease. In other words, I view myself, even today, much more harshly than anybody else on the planet. The shame and self-hatred that I carried within me caused me to go back to using alcohol and to other self-destructive behaviors often. One day, who knows when, I began to doubt my own thinking, and I began to look at how others seemed to perceive me. Eventually, because I found myself surrounded by people who looked at me much better than I looked at myself, I began to believe their perceptions more than my own. I began to behave as if my life has value, because obviously it does to those who support me. And that, I believe, is really the only reason that I am alive today - I was able to listen to someone else's thinking more than my own. Let me tell you that that is not an easy task. There is nothing in the world that I placed more value on than my own thinking.
So I understand how my friend went back to the thinking that caused her to die. And I'm sad. I'm sad that she could not see what a special and beautiful human being and child of God she was. I'm sad that she had people who were really close to her who now have an empty space inside of them.
And what can I do? What will I do? I can honor her memory by staying sober and staying in recovery. I can do what others have done for me - I will continue to encourage, support, and love those who live with addiction/alcoholism and other mental health conditions. I will not turn my back on others because it's too hard to see someone die from this - I will continue to develop my understanding that God is in all of us, and continue to develop my skills in helping others discover this Truth for themselves. And I will continue to live and thrive and love my life and myself just as it is and I am today, if only to show others that it is possible to live in recovery. We don't have to die from this disease.
It's the least I can do.
Namaste,
Ken
I found out Saturday that someone in our recovery community passed away Friday night, probably from an overdose. It's very sad. She was a young person with a child. So she was someone's mother, someone's daughter, someone's sister, someone's partner, and a lot of folks' friend.
So how does this happen? Why does this happen?
I've been around death since I was 2 years old. I started walking at one of my grandfather's funeral. When I was 7, I saw my aunt dying from stomach cancer. Throughout the years, I've been to the funerals of relatives and friends. I've missed some, too - a very good friend of mine from college passed away in 1988. He was 28 years old. So I know that physical death is a part of life.
The ones that bother me are the ones who pass young. A classmate who was stabbed to death by her boyfriend when she was 19 or 20. My friend who passed over the weekend. A friend from Boy Scouts who was one of the nicest guys you'd want to know passed in service to his country. There's more.
I don't get into the hows and whys too very much - it's not healthy. It's dabbling in that which is not mine to dabble in. Otherwise I start telling God who should stay and who should go. I've done that before. The whole thing is a great big mystery to me.
Why am I alive today? I've had several overdoses, two of which put me in comas. I've punished myself more than anyone else possibly could have. Yet I'm here today, living, breathing, thriving, while people much better than me [judgment] have passed on. There isn't any logic in it at all.
Spiritually I know that death is sort of like moving out of state - we only cease to exist in this particular physical realm. How many realms are out there, I don't know. If one is a Christian, then they know the words of Jesus, who mentioned to His disciples that His Father's house has many mansions. This indicates that there are many different 'places' for us to exist.
I read a recent statistic that said that people with a chronic mental condition (and addiction is a mental health condition) typically have a life span 25 years less than those without mental health conditions. That's a lot less!
But here's the real deal: Sometimes, maybe often, wonderful people who are a real asset to this world and who are much loved and admired die much too soon [judgment]. As an alcoholic, I can faithfully say that it would be my own inaccurate perception of myself that would cause me to die from my disease. In other words, I view myself, even today, much more harshly than anybody else on the planet. The shame and self-hatred that I carried within me caused me to go back to using alcohol and to other self-destructive behaviors often. One day, who knows when, I began to doubt my own thinking, and I began to look at how others seemed to perceive me. Eventually, because I found myself surrounded by people who looked at me much better than I looked at myself, I began to believe their perceptions more than my own. I began to behave as if my life has value, because obviously it does to those who support me. And that, I believe, is really the only reason that I am alive today - I was able to listen to someone else's thinking more than my own. Let me tell you that that is not an easy task. There is nothing in the world that I placed more value on than my own thinking.
So I understand how my friend went back to the thinking that caused her to die. And I'm sad. I'm sad that she could not see what a special and beautiful human being and child of God she was. I'm sad that she had people who were really close to her who now have an empty space inside of them.
And what can I do? What will I do? I can honor her memory by staying sober and staying in recovery. I can do what others have done for me - I will continue to encourage, support, and love those who live with addiction/alcoholism and other mental health conditions. I will not turn my back on others because it's too hard to see someone die from this - I will continue to develop my understanding that God is in all of us, and continue to develop my skills in helping others discover this Truth for themselves. And I will continue to live and thrive and love my life and myself just as it is and I am today, if only to show others that it is possible to live in recovery. We don't have to die from this disease.
It's the least I can do.
Namaste,
Ken
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