One Year

Today marks one year without using alcohol. I don't do well at celebrating sobriety anniversaries; I've had many one-year sobriety anniversaries, and, at this point in life, abstaining from alcohol is not the most challenging accomplishment for me today. To be honest, I celebrate my time away from alcohol for these reasons: it's the only quantifiable thing about my recovery, others in recovery seem to enjoy it, and it gives hope to newcomers in recovery.

After some contemplation this morning, I was able to wrap my head around the concept of noting a milestone in recovery, just like I noted the milestone of my 60th birthday a few months ago - something that probably would not have happened if I had not been in recovery. I use milestones when I bicycle. Some of the trails I use have mile markers, and when I meet them it's always nice to know that I have the strength and energy, skill, and good fortune to have made it another mile. I might stop and rest for a moment at a mile marker, drink some water, eat a banana, perhaps even take a picture. But I don't stay there too long - I'm back on the path pretty quickly, continuing my journey. And while the accomplishment of the last mile feels good, especially if it's been uphill, it's no guarantor that I'll be able to complete the next mile. It's one pedal at a time, and we'll see what happens.

For me, the real accomplishment of the past year is that I abstained from giving up. I didn't give up on life, on recovery - I didn't give up on myself. Oh, I had plenty of excuses - I'm too old, I'm too mentally ill, I'm too damaged, I'm too tired, I've suffered too many disappointments. But I gave it another shot, and if there's any nobility in that, then I'm noble. 

I am grateful that I don't have a much of a desire to drink or use again. Cravings for the substance are something that many people who are in their first attempt at recovery find troublesome. What I do share with those who are truly attempting recovery and new at it are feelings of guilt, shame, doom, and major lack of confidence in my ability to sustain recovery over the long haul.

So the major accomplishment of the past year is that I have said "yes!" to life and to the daily challenges of overcoming the self-destructive thinking that has plagued me and caused me and others so much suffering. And I finally surrendered to the fact that I cannot do this alone - that I must let others into my life, and not just at a surface level. I must be willing to let people I trust see me at my darkest and dirtiest - when I feel the worst about myself. It's a challenge to establish and foster connections with others in recovery, but it hasn't been as bad and scary as I thought it would be, and I am the better for it.

I think one of the major surprises from the past year, and one by which I am truly humbled, is that I am able to offer real hope and support to others desiring recovery. This discovery has been one of the things that has sustained me through the inevitable low points. My feelings of self-worth and self-esteem (which are essential to my recovery) are only gradually improving; yet there is a preponderance of evidence that says my experience, strength, & hope - in other words, my recovery and my life - are valuable to others. There is evidence that I am looked up to and respected in some parts of the recovery community, as well as in other places. So when it feels to me as if my life has no value, that I have no purpose on Earth aside from creating carbon dioxide, I am able to look at the evidence, and show up for life anyway until the feeling passes. I don't have to be perfect to be valued, maybe even loved, by other human beings. This is truly a new concept to me.

I would be remiss if I failed to mention how important mindfulness meditation is to my recovery. It's essential. The practice has given me a degree of separation between me and my thinking, which I've never really had before. This means that I no longer have to identify with what my head is telling me. I recognize that there is probably a different reality than is what is going on in my mind. In this way, I am able to take action to let go of thinking and feeling and moods which no longer serve my best interest. As I mentioned, this is a practice, so I'm not perfect at it, but I'm a far cry from where I used to be. I no longer feel compelled to create my own suffering.

Lastly, I must mention all of the angels I have in my life, both in person and on social media (which I have learned to use wisely and skillfully). All of you who are trying to live your best life, and share that with me, either actively or passively, are angels. I cannot doubt the goodness of the Universe which I see manifest every day in the people who cross my path, and I am most grateful. Thank you for being you!

So my heart is filled with gratitude today for the life I have today.

Thank you, and namasté,

Ken

 

Being Supportive

Or "What to do when someone you care for is acting the fool."

As I've mentioned in a few previous posts, over the past 11 months, I have been endeavoring to cultivate real connections with others.  I had believed previously that I really did not need to let people get close to me, or to allow myself to get close to others, in order to get well and live a healthy life. Keeping a reasonable distance from others is the plan for a wounded self that wants to protect me from further hurt. Keeping the shields up seems like a good way to stay safe; perhaps it is, but it isn't a very good way to live fully. One of the weird aspects of being human (and trust me, there are many weird aspects) is that in order to live fully, we must risk. We must risk hurt, disappointment, failure, suffering. That sounds strange, but I know from experience that not taking risks, avoiding what my protecting mind tells me is unsafe, creates hurt, disappointment, failure, and suffering. And when I take no risks, there's no upside. When I do take risks - when I allow myself to become vulnerable with other human beings, I then allow for the possibility to experience love - both giving and receiving. A human being might be able to survive without love, but I have come to believe that a human being cannot truly thrive without the capacity to love and to be loved.

So the decision to allow myself to become vulnerable and to make true connections with others was not an easy decision for me. It wasn't a matter of simply switching lanes and doing things differently, like adopting a different style of dress or learning a new language. It's more like dropping the armor and going into the battle naked and unarmed. I knew it was going to get messy, but I also knew that I had to do it or else die a lonely, miserable failure of a human being. I had to give living (loving) one more shot.

I have a friend that I care about and love. My friend has been making some very unwise choices lately that endanger not only their happiness, but their life. It hurts to see this. It hurts to see someone I deeply care about make very short-sighted decisions apparently to avoid the pain that comes with growing up. It hurts to see this person turn from every truly supportive person in their life. It hurts to know that I can't do anything about their situation that would be wise and skillful, other than to remain ready to pick up the pieces, if, hopefully, there are any pieces left to pick up.

I really wanted to rage. I wanted to have the opportunity to say, or scream, "Wtf do you think you're doing? What is wrong with you?" I am grateful that today I possess the wisdom to know that approaching someone in this manner will only push the person deeper into their self-destructive delusions. I know that this person is only doing what they think they need to do in order to protect themselves. I know that this person does not think they are hurting anybody else. How do I know this? Because I've been there.

Throughout my active addiction and mental illness, I made many, many unwise choices that I thought did not harm anybody else but myself. Delusion is a symptom that comes with addiction and mental illness. I realized, after I started caring about people, that although my unwise choices and actions might not have physically hurt those who cared about me, they nonetheless hurt my family and loved ones. I had turned off my capacity for caring, love, empathy, and compassion. Those aspects of myself only got in the way of me getting what I thought I desperately needed. When I flipped those switches back on, I found out that it hurts to love someone who is hurting themselves.

And I can't maintain any kind of anger against my friend. They are not doing this to hurt me, even though it hurts to not have their healthy friendship. They are quite unaware of all of the consequences of their choices.

So there is sadness, and the desire to fix something that I can't fix. But what can I do?

I can be supportive. How? By practicing understanding, compassion, empathy, forgiveness, metta, and unconditional love. Understanding that this person is being driven by forces, both inner and outer, that they are unable to recognize or handle. Right now, they truly are a victim. Understanding that whatever this person is doing, they are not doing it to me. It has absolutely nothing to do with me, and understanding that I own my own feelings about the situation. Compassion and empathy come from taking an honest appraisal of my own experience and situation. I have been where this person is and made many, many more unwise choices, through my own delusions, than this person has yet had a chance to make. Compassion also comes from a deep knowing that I could be exactly where they're at in a very short time. I am not immune from relapse. Forgiveness comes from compassion and understanding, but also from the sure knowledge that I can be of no real help to them, myself, or anybody else while holding a grudge. Grudges keep my hands too full to do anything useful. Forgiveness is simply giving love to a situation, and love is the only thing that truly heals. Metta, or prayer, is practicing sending loving and kind thoughts to that person. It doesn't necessarily change their outcome, but it keeps my mind in a hopeful and faithful position toward this person. And unconditional love is simply knowing who that person really is beneath all the self-destructive behavior - knowing that underneath everything is a precious soul going through an extremely difficult life experience. And unconditional love says I'll be there in person to support this person back to health, if given the opportunity.

Please note that being supportive does not mean doing anything that would compromise my integrity or my own mental or physical well-being. I used to try to rescue (fix) people from time to time. I now know the folly in that endeavor, and that support and rescue are not the same thing.

One might ask, "Ken, does this experience make you want to reconsider your decision to really connect with others, especially those who live with addiction and or mental health issues?" and the answer, surprisingly, is "No." I am still dedicated to developing real connections with others. What I have experienced so far since my decision has been more real peace, belonging, happiness and joy than I have ever experienced previously. I am becoming more and more convinced that the only worthwhile endeavor in life is to know my connection with life through learning how I can be of maximum loving service to others.

I want to end with this: I am still selfish af, only today I practice putting my recovery first rather than me first. It's now 11:45 pm, and if I hadn't sat down to write and process all this through writing, I would have been laying in bed thinking about it, and the thoughts would not have been productive. Over the past few years, I have been able to let go of a ton of suffering that I had been carrying for a really long time, and today I have no desire to pick it up again or create new suffering in my life (or anyone else's!). So there ya have it.

Namasté,

Ken  

60!

 Today is my 60th birthday, the beginning of my 61st trip around the Sun! It truly is a happy day for me, and I've rarely been able to say that. Over the past few weeks I've been pondering what it's like for me to be turning 60, and I can honestly say it's a miracle, and I'm glad and grateful to be here today.

Two years ago, after experiencing yet another bottom and return to hope, I made a commitment to myself to do my best to stay alive for the next two years. My cycles in and out of sanity/recovery are, on average, about two years, so I thought that 2 years was a reasonable time to make a commitment. I almost blew staying alive 10 months ago, and I've since realized that these 'cycles' are actually getting shorter, so I've really got to keep on my toes. In fact, if the past 9 months are any indicator, it looks like I'd better commit daily to doing whatever I can to stay alive.

But it's become, fortunately, so much more than staying alive, or merely surviving. If this is your first time reading my blog, my daily 'struggle', as it were, is doing whatever I can to stay out of life-threatening depression and remaining abstinent from alcohol and other addictive, mood-altering substances. In fact, this incarnation of my blog began 7 years ago with this post Return to Recovery. If you read it, you'll see that my aim is the same: "I still have hope that I can learn to enjoy this lifetime, and to live a life that has purpose and meaning. That seems like a tall order, but, taken in little chunks, and done with guidance, it's probably do-able. We'll see." In some respects, nothing has changed; in others, everything has.

"It's been a long life." This statement was my mantra for a long time. In fact, it seems to me I've packed a few lifetimes into this life, and today, I look at that as a positive - it means that I'm never truly stuck. I've learned that life is constantly changing, and, more importantly, changes more quickly, with less suffering, when I am able to accept 'what is' without clinging.

This past July 10th, I reached a recovery milestone of 9 months without the use of alcohol. If you are close to me, you know that I don't put much stock for myself in time of abstinence - to me, it's sort of like celebrating the fact that I've eaten something every day for the past 9 months, or breathed for the past 9 months. It is vitally important that I do these things - stay sober, eat, and breathe - but it's seems just as important that I aspire each day to live this day to it's fullest. I don't think I was given this life to merely stay out of jail and be a source of carbon dioxide. I hope not, anyway. 

The much more significant recovery milestone that I've reached is today. The miracle is that I woke up this morning, giving me yet another opportunity to fully embrace life. I've spent so much of my life doing just the opposite. I've spent most of my life trying to avoid life, or, more accurately, trying to avoid the pain and discomfort that (I now know) comes automatically with life. In doing so, I've caused myself and others pain, discomfort, and suffering. I was hoping to create some happiness, peace, and joy in my life; what I actually often created was sorrow and discord.

So much has occurred over the last few years, and especially the past 9 months, to convince me that life is not only worth living, that it can be a joyful experience. This is the miracle of my 60th birthday - that today, I am actually enjoying life and looking forward to what comes next! I would have thought that 60 was pretty much the end of life, that it's all downhill from here. Not so for my 60 - I feel vibrantly alive today, and I am filled with joy. These are feelings I was skeptical about feeling, and words I never thought I'd write.

I have deep gratitude for all the experiences and people that have brought me to this day. If you are reading this, you are one of the people that has brought me joy and given me purpose. I hope that your days are filled with much hope, joy, health, and peace. Thank you.

Namasté,

Ken

Nothing's Wrong

 It has been awhile since I've posted. It's not that I don't have anything to 'write home' about - I have an abundance to write about - it's that I've been putting other things ahead of sitting down and writing. 

Since my last post, I've been staying sober and (mostly) sane, working, and going to recovery meetings and outpatient treatment. My focus right now is developing self-compassion, as well as developing connections with others in recovery, something that I've shied away from. I think the two go hand-in-hand - the better I treat myself, the less fear and mistrust I harbor, and the more I want to try healthy things. It's healthy for a human to have a few people with whom they're close. And, as I'm finding out, it's essential in recovery from addiction and mental illness. I have found that I must have someone with whom I can share the craziness in my head. Low level craziness I can tolerate and work with, but when the shit hits the fan, I get too overwhelmed to clean up the mess myself.

So the whole self-compassion thing is that I could learn to treat myself with kindness, empathy, and respect - just like I treat others. But I don't. I've been told for a really long time that I need to not be so hard on myself, and, believe it or not, I'm not as hard on myself as I used to be. But I still treat myself harshly. I haven't yet fully absorbed the concept that I can make mistakes and still be worthy and lovable. There are a lot of times when doing my best is still not good enough, and the very odd thing is that I have nobody outside of myself telling me that - it's all inner criticism. So that's some of the insanity I need to share with others whom I respect and trust. 

I had an interesting experience this past weekend - our treatment program in which I'm currently enrolled began using a peer support specialist. That's what I am. Or was. Still am, I guess. Earlier this year I had wondered if I would ever let a peer support work with me, and I figured I wouldn't. Unfortunately, much of the time I think I'm smarter than everybody else in recovery and have more on the ball. So there's irony in the fact that I can get down on myself yet still think I'm better than others. I don't behave this way, fortunately, but I still think it, and it bothers me. Anyway, I was able to sit down with this peer support, and we talked openly for an hour. I was very open to his support. So I am able to accept support and friendship from someone. I think the arrogance and judgment of others I sometimes possess is a defense mechanism to keep people away. Cognitively, I do know that I'm not the sharpest tool in the shed, and that I do make mistakes. But there are parts of me that don't want to accept my humanity. It's odd that when I think of stuff, it sounds right, but when I share what I'm really thinking with another, or write it down, I can see the errors in my logic.

I have a recovery mentor whom I've had since this summer. We've never met in person, but we've talked over the phone quite a bit as well as texted. He was suggested to me by another person who lives where my mentor lives, and the first time I talked with him I felt a real connection. I feel that connection each time I talk with him. It's been a really long time since I've experienced a connection like this, so I know it's special. As we talk, I get to know more about him, and he gets to know more about me. 

I've practiced my recovery for the past several years under the theory that if I can just keep feeling good enough about myself, I won't feel the desire to change the way I feel with chemicals. So far, this theory has not held up, as is evidenced by the number of relapses I've experienced in recent years. What I'm trying to express is that I was hoping to avoid tanking mentally/emotionally like I do before I relapse, because when I get that low, it's been impossible for me to ask for help. I thought that I could avoid tanking, but know I don't think I can, no matter what I do. So that is why I'm developing connections and better self-compassion - so that when I tank mentally/emotionally, I can and hopefully will ask for help before I take self-destructive actions.

The title of this piece is Nothing's Wrong for a couple of reasons: first, since I hadn't posted in a while, I wanted to let my readers know I'm ok; and second, I wanted to talk about some of the emotional stress I'm experiencing lately from the perspective of "it's ok, so long as I don't give up." The piece took a bit of a different direction, but I'll keep the title. I appreciate your reading this far, and my intention is to keep sharing my experiences on the path.

Namasté,

Ken

Transitions Part II - The Journey

In Transitions - Part I, I wrote about transitioning from one job to another, and the success that I've encountered at my (still current) job, and my joy at moving on to a job that more matches my strengths and abilities. I think in that post I failed to capture the real essence of the whole experience, and it perhaps might not be possible to, in a few hour's worth of writing, capture what it feels like to go 9 months (at the job), a day at a time, or a moment at a time, and to feel that overall it's been a great success.

The journey I'm speaking of is experiencing each day that life is meant to be lived, not avoiding or simply tolerating. It is taking a new attitude toward life. The Universe told me to "practice each day setting aside your fears and doubts and preconceived notions about the way things 'should' be. Accept what is in front of you and do the next indicated step, no matter how you feel. Just get yourself in the stream of life, let go, and see what happens. Trust."

When I was new at the grocery store, one of my tasks was to collect carts from the parking lot and return them to the cart corral. I also picked up litter in the parking lot. One of the worst things I picked up was somebody's used rubber gloves - they were wet with their sweat. Along the way, I had to deal with feelings of inferiority and shame. But I was being of service. "All labor that uplifts humanity has dignity and importance and should be undertaken with painstaking excellence." (Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.) I was doing my job to make grocery shopping as easy and pleasant an experience as possible for customers during a very challenging time for people. I was doing what nobody would notice unless the job wasn't done. In addition to finding trash along the way, I would also find pennies. I viewed the pennies as signs of encouragement from my Higher Power that I was doing the right thing (sometimes I'd find dimes or even quarters!). I developed a strong attitude of gratitude for what was happening to me and through me - no matter what! 

One day at work inside the store I heard a crash and went to investigate. The Grocery Manager (assistant director of the store) was setting up a display and some plates fell off the display and broke. I didn't say anything. I got a broom and dustpan and cardboard box and cleaned it up - because that's what you do. If I see something that needs doing, I do it, or find somebody who can. And the people in charge noticed my attitude and ethics and gave me more responsibility, and more pay. But that wasn't my goal; it's what happened as a result of me practicing doing the next right thing. One of my goals is to be of service in whatever way I can whenever it is indicated.

I haven't been broke since probably September or October of 2020 (9 or 10 months as of this writing). I don't write a budget - whenever I've written a budget in the past, it has shown that I don't have enough to live on. Source provides me with everything I need today, in abundance! I go with that attitude. I've stopped entertaining doubts about the future, and I say "Thank You God" for everything I have today. I was able to get some work done on my teeth. I was able to pay for a lawyer to take care of my legal business in Las Vegas that I had ignored for 12 years. I am able to pay what is needed to reinstate my driving privileges. My monetary priorities are rent, keeping my phone going, utilities, food, and donating money to entities that feed my spirit (recovery meetings and now, lately, church). I was able to purchase a Chromebook, which I'm using now. There's some things I don't like about it, but I love it and I'm grateful for it because it's my main window to the world. I'm able to afford internet service. I've walked around with $1000 cash in my pocket, and I wasn't tempted to use it to go on what would be and impressive but very damaging bender. I purchased a bicycle a little over a year ago, and I have a little over 1800 miles on it. It's my main form of transportation as well as aerobic exercise and pleasure riding. 1800 miles isn't my record (3000 miles in one year in Wisconsin), but it's still a lot of pedaling. I'm grateful for my bike, and I take care of my bike. When I trail ride, it gets very dusty, and I clean it up after my ride to maintain it and to show my gratitude and appreciation for it. It's a great bike!

A young friend of mine, about 21 or 22 years old, stated that they didn't know what to do with their life. I didn't say anything because my only thought I had at the time was, "I don't know what to do with my life either," meaning I don't know what life is going to look like too much past today. I didn't say that to them because I didn't think it would be comforting to them to say, "I'm almost 59 years old and I don't know what I'll be when I grow up either!" I could have said, "Do your best with today and your experiences will lead you to where you're supposed to be and doing what you're supposed to be doing." I still need a lot of practice expressing my faith and encouraging others.

I have some of the most awesome people in my life, but that's not a surprise. As I've stated in previous posts, God always has put loving and supportive people on my path, but in the past, I haven't always engaged in those relationships. The most challenging part of my life is connecting with others - cultivating a true relationship. There are a ton of fears surrounding that. I falter and fuck up and make amends and allow people to see the real me. It's tough! But connection with others is so, so very important in recovery, so I'm putting my toes and sometimes my foot in the water of friendship. Someday I'll get in all the way, deep, and know that it will be ok, no matter what. I get to facilitate recovery meetings in Recovery Dharma. I am so grateful for discovering Recovery Dharma meetings - being involved in it has been so immensely helpful to my recovery. We talk about real stuff - overcoming the trauma and fears and unskillful thinking that feed our addictions. We practice compassion and acceptance and support each other on our paths.

I avoid the desire to seek pleasure. I practice happiness and acceptance. Happiness is a choice, not a goal. In this moment, or any other moment, I can be happy. Did you know that happy people don't hurt themselves or intentionally hurt others? Some years ago a sponsor told me that my serenity is the most important thing I have, because it fuels my sobriety. I understood the concept in my head, but I couldn't yet practice it. I didn't like myself or love myself enough at the time to practice things like serenity, happiness, and peace. I felt I didn't deserve to be happy. Now I no longer identify with depression. I no longer identify with the symptoms, especially the one that says I'm a victim of myself - that I'm a bad person and I deserve punishment, and if someone else won't punish me, I'll punish myself. I began practicing liking myself, because there isn't any evidence that I'm a 'bad' person in this moment. Practicing liking myself is doing good things for myself, like eating right and sleeping right and taking care of my business, and a bunch of other stuff. I let go of perfectionism. I let go of it a lot! Perfectionism is antithetical to liking myself, because nothing is perfect. Or, if you like, in this moment, everything is perfect according to the laws of the Universe. Anyway, when I let go of perfectionism, I allow happiness and peace in. I can live with myself and be happy with what I'm doing, knowing that I'm moving forward and improving. Back to the first sentence in this paragraph - pleasure comes, unexpectedly, when I'm doing the right thing. Pleasure comes from hiking Thumb Butte or a tiny part of the Grand Canyon with friends, and taking pictures. Pleasure comes when I ride my bike 26 miles. Pleasure comes when I don't procrastinate. Pleasure comes when I help a customer find the product they are seeking. Pleasure comes when I drop my defenses and allow another employee to help me with my job. Pleasure comes when I share my experience, strength, and hope with another addict in recovery. Joy comes when I ponder where I'm at today and how I show up today compared to a year ago. 

I thought about the following 'story', I guess, earlier today and I want to share it. Growing up, and as a young man, my goal (because someone gave it to me, and I accepted it) was to finish my higher education, get a good job that would support me forever, and find a suitable mate that would stay with me forever. Then I could sit back and relax. I would have a life. I failed miserably at that goal. I took a few shots at it, and just could. not. do. it. I began to try ways of living that were acceptable to others, and I just could. not. do. it. I took the road less traveled. I've had a lot of experiences that most people have not had, and maybe can't relate to. I discovered, by looking within, that my real goal for a really long time was to escape life, avoid engaging with life, in whatever way I could while trying to make the people around me think that I was actually living a decent life. That's a really complicated goal! And I failed at that, too. So I agreed with myself to try life. I'm giving up trying to avoid it (still working on that!). And I'm finding out that life is livable! With a Higher Power, and some spiritual principles by which to live, Life actually turns out to be a pretty good experience. 

So that's the journey. I don't know that I have a destination, other than to fit myself to be of maximum service to the Universe and to others. The journey is each day practicing the mountain of spiritual principles I've learned over the years - working at connecting my head with my heart, and living a useful and purposeful life. I practice becoming whole. I practice, each day, letting go of fear and doubt, and letting life take me where it will. And, much to my surprise, the results are fantastic! So when I write about getting a new job, or making amends for my past, or always and absolutely having whatever I need, and no longer entertaining and living with the symptoms of depression and active addiction, these things are the results of living each day engaged with life to the best of my ability, and endeavoring to be of service. I don't plan the results. My only expectation for each day is that I'll be ok, and I've met or exceeded that expectation for 343 days so far. And these transitions that come about as a result of my actions - I endeavor to let them be as smooth as possible, knowing that good is here, and more good is coming. Let it flow, like water.

 Namasté,

Ken

Mind Games

***Trigger Warning*** - this post deals with triggers & urges to drink.

Yesterday, I was walking to the drugstore on a path that runs next to Prescott Valley's big drainage ditch (built for monsoon season to help avoid flash flooding). I use this path all the time, and like any public path, there is sometimes trash strewn about. At one point, less than a mile to my destination, I noticed a bottle (a fifth) of Wild Turkey Rye Whiskey laying in the grass; only I really noticed it. I fairly often see stuff of this nature on my walks, and I usually give stuff a half-second glance. The glance I gave the bottle yesterday was much more than a half-second, and that bottle and its contents looked good.

If you are a non-alcoholic or non-addict, you might wonder what the attraction was. I walk into gas stations and grocery stores that sell beer and liquor all the time. I rarely have an issue being in close proximity to sealed alcoholic products sitting innocently on the store shelves waiting for some customer to buy them. I know I'm not that customer.

Fortunately, this happened yesterday. If I had happened upon that bottle of Wild Turkey two weeks ago, I'm fairly certain that I would have taken advantage of it, because two weeks ago I was not in a good space mentally or spiritually. Yesterday I was doing pretty good.

So I carried on to my destination, and after I was done with my business, I began my return trip using the same path. I came upon the bottle of whiskey again, and I stopped. Again, I knew the problem for me - it was there. So I decided to pour it out. I picked up the bottle, and it was nearly full. I can't comprehend someone leaving a nearly full bottle of whiskey alone in the wilds - that's alcohol abuse! I went to unscrew the cap, and noted it wasn't a cap, it was a cork - classy! I pulled out the cork, and... I've done this before - poured bottles out for myself or for someone I'm helping, and there's always this one little point, this hesitation, where the decision, or the final answer is made... Do I drink it or do I pour it out; could go either way. And I chose to pour that whiskey out onto the ground. When the bottle was empty, I flung it back in the grass, and continued on my way.

I spoke with my recovery coach a few hours later and related the experience to him. He asked if I felt good for doing that, and I told him that I did. It was a good feeling making the better choice. And we talked a little more about it, and I talked about possibly disappointing the person who bought the bottle in the first place. But he said I did the right thing, because by physically pouring it out, I got it out of my mind. We also realized that I might have saved some kid from a bad day or a bad life by removing this opportunity to use alcohol; who knows.

I'm grateful for this experience, and experiences like them. They remind me that I still need to be mindful on my daily journey. Triggers, urges, cravings happen to anybody who stops using a substance to which they are addicted, and there is no shame in having them. Addiction is tied into the part of our brains that ensure our survival, so automatically desiring something we were addicted to when triggered is not at all unusual. As a recovering person, I need to remember to not always believe everything I think. If I do, I can lead myself into some very destructive behavior.

Urges and triggers are just thoughts; however, they're thoughts that affect the pleasure center of our brain, and they can turn into physical cravings or obsessions. It's important to deal with them before they become out of control. I dealt with this one by taking action opposite to my desire (pouring it out), and talking with someone who understands (honesty). By dealing with this situation in a skillful way, I'm able to move past it and relate the story as an incident that happened yesterday. Had I dealt with this unskillfully, it'd be a pretty good bet that today would have been much, much different, and that bottle, or at least the consequences from drinking it, would still be with me. I'm grateful for the tools to stay sober, and I'm even more grateful when I actually use them.

Thank you for reading. I hope this piece has shed some light for you on alcoholism. Please share this with others if you think it would help.

Namasté,

Ken

Keeping My Chin Up (I'm Still Here)

Since my last post, I've stayed sober (and relatively sane), let my Certified Peer Specialist certification lapse, gotten a job in a plastics factory as an inspector, re-connected with my therapist and begun work on discovering those subconscious tidbits that continually trip me up, successfully completed treatment, and moved into sober living.  Other than that, it's been kind of slow.

Today I'm going to write about what's foremost in my mind, which isn't (at this point, anyway) a happy topic. I like to put things nicely, but I don't know how in this instance - so, here it is: there has been a lot of relapse and death around me lately.  First, my roommate from the halfway house moved into sober living - we were going to be roommates there as well - and he relapsed in a big way about the time I was moving into sober living. He's not doing well. Some other people with whom I shared the treatment journey have relapsed as well. Two people I know in recovery have passed recently. I also found out one of my cousins' sons passed away two years ago at age 25. I didn't know him, but it's one of those things that makes me wonder and makes me sad. And I found out today from the person with whom I've been riding to work that their oldest child died some years ago from a heroin overdose. And then today at work, the person I was working with today told me that his sister passed away 2 weeks ago, and my coworker is now raising their niece and nephew, and they found out today that a friend of theirs died by suicide two days ago.

It's sad. I feel sad about all the suffering going on. I also feel a bit dismayed - what the heck is going on? There have been a lot of deaths this past year by suicide and relapse. When I was still sick, in my active addiction and depression, I used this as an excuse to not get better. I was giving up. Now I recognize it as a part of the territory I'm in - I know a lot of people in recovery from addiction and a fair number of people living with mental health conditions. What's happening now is, unfortunately, not all that unusual; I'm simply acutely aware of it right now, 'it' being people suffering and sometimes dying.

My response today was to get a little down in the dumps about it all. Writing about it helps; talking to the right person about it would help, too, except that I don't have phone service again until the day after tomorrow and it's a bit difficult to get hold of the person with whom I'd like to talk. But whatever. My overall response is one of gratitude. I look at each individual that has relapsed and each individual that has passed away and say, "That could have been me." My gratitude is that I am still here to enjoy this life and contribute what I can. 

And then I focus on the living. I've been told, and I believe, that 'Why?' isn't a spiritual question - that when I ask 'Why?', I'm not looking for a reason, I'm looking for an argument. I can't do anything for those that have passed on. I can do little for those who have relapsed until they become ready again to get back into recovery. I can do a lot for the survivors.

I listen, and, when warranted, I share my experience. No, I can't bring your loved one back to life, nor can I make anyone recover. But I can listen and let you share your sadness, hurt, grief, and dismay with me. I can make myself available so your pain might ease for just a bit. I don't like the subjects of grief and loss and relapse anymore than most people; but I am equipped to walk with someone a little bit so that they aren't completely alone in their suffering. I can even give a little hope around the possibility that things will get better, because I've been where their loved one has been and I'm getting better. Recovery is possible so long as we're still breathing.

One thing I know today and pretty much accept is that I can't feel the joy of life if I avoid the suffering. I don't like that fact, but it seems to be true, so I work on accepting it. This means when suffering comes from my own thoughts and actions, I endeavor to embrace it, so I can learn from it and let it go. If I try to escape or avoid it, it just comes at me from a different route. Today I'd rather face stuff head-on. And I don't attempt to avoid the real suffering of others either. I figure that if it comes to me, it must be mine to deal with in some way, through listening, sharing, and prayer. 

Through it all, I'm still here, and I'm in a good place - I'm sane and sober, I've got everything I need materially today, and I have purpose. I can't tell you what next week will look like, but I can say that if I continue to do what's mine in front of me to do, I'll still be doing well.  And I'm grateful today for the journey.

By the way, thank you to Anonymous for the comment on my last post - I really appreciate it! And if anyone else feels like commenting, please do so.

Namasté,

Ken

Social Media and My Recovery

Social media (Facebook, Twitter, blogs, YouTube, etc.) is a wonderful development in my life, but, like anything in my life, I can use it skillfully or unskillfully. I was first on Facebook several years back, and deleted my account fairly soon after I opened it - I found I became very judgmental, and when I made a snarky comment to a friend in response to their post, I decided to get off of Facebook. I saw that I was being consumed by my friends' lives, and something told me that wasn't very helpful to me.

Two years ago I got back on Facebook. Besides this blog and YouTube, Facebook is the only social media I use (I think - I use so much internet technology it's sometimes hard to tell how 'out there' I am). I'm going to write mainly about Facebook, since that particular medium soaks up the majority of my time. 

I won't lie - Facebook this time around has made a tremendous impact upon my life. I have 'friends' in 6 of the 7 continents. It has opened me up to information and people and ideas I might not have ever known without Facebook. I've found another area of spiritual support through Facebook, and I have been challenged to look at what I believe and the way I think through the posts I've explored.

I'm listing some ways I've discovered Facebook to be helpful and harmful to my recovery by listing 'skillful' and 'unskillful' ways I've used it, with the unskillful ways first. Please note that these aren't "do's and don't's" for me - I'm not perfect, and waver between skillful and unskillful every time I'm on the computer or my phone. This is simply what I've discovered so far that seems to work and not work for me.

Unskillful

• Making assumptions about peoples' lives as well as comparing myself to others by what I read on Facebook. Even though people tend to share a lot more (sometimes too much!) about their lives than ever before, I must remember that what I see on Facebook is still just a snippet of someone. Some people share what they feel is going wrong in their lives, some people share what they feel is going right, some people share only their children or pets, and some people don't share at all and comment only on others' posts. Nobody, me included, shares everything (even in this blog). Still the best way to get to know someone is to sit down with them and spend some time with them.
• Sharing my political opinions on Facebook. Opinions are like buttholes - everyone has them and they all stink. But, seriously, for me, there are a few things that aren't good for me about sharing my political opinion:
• I've found that it's not my path to share political views. If I go by the number of responses to posts I've made with political views versus the number of other posts I've made, I can tell most people aren't interested in my political opinions.
• I've also discovered that, since I really don't research too deeply into any political issue, my comments about political issues parrot one side or the other and aren't very insightful or useful to anyone.
• My role in life is a helper, a person of service to my Higher Power and my fellows. Sharing my political opinions is not only not helpful to that role, it can actually detract from it by alienating people with strong opinions opposite mine. If I can be of service to you, it doesn't matter (for the most part) what your orientation of any type is to me.
• Reading posts that are intended only to inflame. Related to sharing my political or other irrelevant opinions, reading posts that are intended to rile or inflame rather than inform is not good for my mental health. Imagine sitting down for a nice enjoyable session at the computer only to read stuff that riles me up and evaporates my peace of mind - not good for my recovery, so why do it? I've un-followed people for whom the majority of their posts is inflaming political rhetoric (and memes) whether I agree with them or not! My peace of mind is of utmost importance to me and my recovery; most posts that inflame me give me 'information' that I can do nothing about, so there's no good point to exposing myself to them.
• Spending too much time on Facebook. I don't know what is the correct amount of time to spend on Facebook and other social media; however, I think I spend too much time on it. Some ways to tell when I'm spending too much time on Facebook:
• When I'm looking for you or other posters to entertain me. Sometimes I scroll and scroll and scroll looking for something to pique my interest or fill that hole inside. It's time to get off and do something else.
• When I'm procrastinating. Sometimes I have things that would be better for me to do - like the dishes - but I instead engage with Facebook.
• When I let social media keep me up later than is healthy. Sometimes I do personal YouTube concerts for two hours or more. I like them; I'm not sure how helpful they are.
• When I do Facebook first thing in the morning, before anything else. My belief is the first things to do in the morning that are best for me are those things that align me with my Higher Power and Higher purpose.
• Decreased social interactions. This is preferable to my introvert personality, but detrimental to the whole me. My last post was about feeling again, and since I put it out to the Universe that I'd like to start feeling again, I imagine my social interactions will increase,  because those feelings I want to feel again are often caused by messy real human interactions.

Skillful

• Choosing my path on Facebook. No matter what Mark Zuckerberg's intentions are for Facebook, and no matter what one might hear, an individual does have a great deal of choice about what appears on their Facebook feed. Here are some of my choices:
• Comedy - I enjoy a good laugh, and laughter is healthy. I had to go through a few humor pages until I found one that was funny without bashing anybody (for the most part).
• Peaceful - I un-followed some of my friends who prefer posting about weapons and the glory of war and such - not my thing.
• Grateful - somehow, I got linked up with a group called The Gratitude Circle. I think this group, more than any other, has had an influential part in my life.
• Spiritual - I chose groups that seem to align with the path I'm on, or groups that seem to be where I'd like to be.
• Recovery Oriented - I've joined groups that are filled with others in recovery in order to garner new ideas about recovery and share in others' experiences.
• Connection. I feel connected to some of my friends whom I've never met. This is a double-edged sword, as it would be good for me to have closer physical connections, but, on the other side of it, it's good for me to have connections at all, and the people with whom I'm friends are real people, even if I can't hug them.
• Healing relationships. Through Facebook, and Divine Providence, I think, I was able to re-connect with my two siblings and some other relatives with whom I had broken off communications some years ago. In addition, I've discovered some relatives I didn't know existed.
• Personal healing.  This blog and my interactions on Facebook have given me a medium that I can use to explore myself. I don't know that I can explain it any more than that.
• Expanding my horizons. As I've mentioned, I have friends on 6 of the 7 continents, and they're a diverse bunch. Facebook allows me to get a broader view of humanity without having to leave my apartment.
• YouTube. It was pointed out to me that the average US individual has more entertainment at their fingertips than kings and queens did just a couple of centuries ago. There is a wealth of free stuff on YouTube - from meditations, to music, to instructional videos on how to fix my car. All of these have enriched my life.

I chose to write about recovery and social media because of the impact it has had on me. It's important in recovery to pay attention to what we ingest - not only physically, but also mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. I'm grateful that I have these tools in my life, and I'm glad I've been led to use them wisely. I will keep social media as long as it exists and helps me grow in my recovery.

Namasté,

Ken

Lessons from Relapse - Acquiring the Willingness to Change My Story

If I remain stuck in who I think I am, recovery will be difficult, if not impossible. For years and years and years, I did not want to be depressed; yet I identified with the symptoms of my depression every day. I wasn't good enough, I was hopeless, I'm different than everybody, my life has no meaning, I can't make it in this world, I'm a disappointment to everybody around me, and I'm undeserving of anything because I'm such a loser. That is who I believed I was. I felt like an inept mountain climber - I watched everybody I knew climbing their mountain while I struggled at the base of mine, slipping and sliding, and never making it more than a few feet up.

I did not know or understand that the identity that I walked around with was not really me, that it was symptomatic of a brain disorder (commonly known as Major Depressive Disorder). I did not know that I was never hopeless loser, even when I was unable to successfully complete endeavors  (like marriages, jobs, and post-secondary education). I wasn't hopeless 2 weeks ago, and I'm not hopeless today. The symptoms I experience, although they feel like me, are not me.

I'll mention here that to say, "I am an alcoholic," or "I am (mental health condition)," is self-stigmatizing. Few people walk around saying, "I am diabetes," or "I am prostate cancer." Today, if I want to introduce myself and tag the disorders I've experienced, I say, "My name is Ken and I am in recovery from alcoholism and depression." This puts a degree of separation between me and my disorders, and it is more accurate - today I am sober and I am not experiencing symptoms of depression. It seems complicated, but the things I tell myself are very important.

Human tendency is to define ourselves by our past, by what we've done or experienced. We are all we've thought and experienced; however, we're also much, much more. We are also all we can be, being children of the infinite Universe. As spiritual beings having this human experience, we have the opportunity to surpass our perceived human limitations. One can see this in human development, technology, and even in sports - there is a drive within us to be more today than we were yesterday.

Addiction and other mental health conditions have the tendency to dim our creative spirits and drive. I've experienced it myself, and I see it in a lot of individuals with whom I work. 

In order to thrive, as opposed to simply existing, I must be willing to expand my borders. I must be willing to do the work required to break free from the limitations I've imposed upon myself. How did I become willing? By being surrounded by people who let me know that I was so much more than I thought I was. I began to believe these people, and I began to seek ways to expand my consciousness - to use tools others had used to begin to look past the fence I had constructed around myself, and to begin to believe that I had the power and ability to knock the fence down.

When I was treating only alcoholism, I did everything I could to stay sober. One of the things that bothered me is that I would see some others in recovery doing less than I was doing, yet having seemingly better lives and an easier time of it. Part of this perception was the veil of depression that often surrounded me. The other part of it was that I really was doing more than some others and not achieving the same results. This only served to fortify my belief that I was useless and a loser. My belief was that I would always be less than those around me, no matter what I did or how hard I worked.

When I acknowledged and accepted that I am also dealing with a mental health condition, I began to treat that as well. In order to stay in recovery, I have to treat both of my conditions. There's a fair amount of overlap, but there are also things I do that are specific to each condition. I feel that there are a lot of things, physically, mentally, and spiritually, that I must attend to in order to stay in recovery. I am in truth grateful for this, because what I do has opened my life and given me things and people I never would have experienced otherwise.

So back to changing my story - if you'll notice by reading some of the other posts in my blog, I do not write very much about 'what it was like'. I don't tell expansive stories about my time in prison, or how many hospitals I've visited, or all the wreckage I created in the past. On a private level, I deal with all of that. My story is about recovery, not addiction and mental illness, and recovery is now. I understand today that the most important moment in my life is right here, right now, and I don't want to waste this moment re-hashing the past. 

I was at a job interview last week, and at interviews I submit not only my resume, but also my criminal record. The interviewer looked at me and said, "You don't look like you've stolen cars." I've heard similar comments when I tell people about my past, and the reason I don't look like I've committed crimes and been to prison is because I don't live there anymore. I'm just not the felon I once was! But seriously, I don't consider myself a criminal today (because I'm not), and I don't go back there very often. I don't carry that story anymore. 

The reason I want to thrive, rather than just survive, is that one, simply surviving kind of sucks, to me, and two, I believe that the more I'm loving myself and loving life, the less likely it is that I will go back to the life I used to live. Now, obviously, I did take a brief trip back in time to get another taste of misery; however, I can use that jaunt to discover what more I can do to stay in recovery as well as to help others in their recoveries.

So my story is not that I'm a depressed drunk, because today I'm not. Today I am a person who, with help from a Higher Power and a lot of friends, is discovering who he really is and sharing that person with others.

That's my story and I'm sticking to it!

Namasté,

Ken

Home Again

I'm home again, at my regular place of residence. It feels good, which is a good thing to me - it really sucks for someone to get out of the hospital and not have a safe place to stay. I have a safe place to stay, and I am surrounded by friends. I am rich.

I have been in relapse for most of the last month, meaning I have been dangerously symptomatic, meaning I have been suicidal and drinking. Today, gratefully, I am in recovery.

In the posts moving forward, I will continue to write about my experiences, as I have been. I will continue to use my experience in both mental wellness and mental illness, still with the emphasis on mental wellness. I won't apologize to anyone, except to those I hurt during my relapse. Thankfully, this time, those are relatively few.

What I have learned so far from this period in my life is that I cannot afford to hang onto anything, no matter how innocuous, no matter 'where' in my recovery I think I am. (I'm beginning to see that the 'where' I am in my recovery is, or ought to be, 'now'.) Basically I wasn't sharing something that was bothering me. It wasn't anything major (or was it?); it was somewhat embarrassing, to me. However, when I finally did talk about it with others, it didn't seem like something that I might be embarrassed about. It was just a fairly normal situation that I got myself into that bothered me that I didn't know how to handle. The situation itself hasn't been resolved yet*, but at least I'm not alone with it anymore.

Although I finally felt better yesterday, and the day before, inside I still wasn't sure that I wanted to carry on. As a matter of fact, I really didn't, and I asked Source or the Universe to be relieved of my duties in this lifetime. I wasn't going to do anything to end my life, but if I dropped dead of an aneurysm or something, I wasn't going to complain. That sounds crazy, because it is. 

But as I write this today, after being home awhile, I am willing to carry on and see where the Universe takes me. One of my personal goals is to fall in love with life, which seems like a tall order since she can be such an ugly bitch sometimes. But I will work toward allowing myself to be open to it; after all, plenty of others do love her, so she must have some overriding good qualities that maybe I'm missing.

So, here I am, carrying on.

*The situation has been resolved in God's mind; I still need to make myself open to whatever the resolution is, and when that happens, the resolution will manifest. That's a basic spiritual principle.

For all of you who have reached out and prayed and sent healing energy and thoughts my way, I am deeply grateful. Thank you.

Namasté,

Ken

Making a Difference - Part II

As some of you know, I'm struggling right now - struggling with sobriety, and struggling with staying alive. I'm not going to go into the gory details in this post - as I've demonstrated in most posts, I hope, the message is  more important. The mechanics of recovery can be picked up in a few simple easy lessons, if we're willing.  Much more, to me, is what these are about - what they teach us about resilience, love, and learning, and especially how to let the God in us shine through, even when we think we're buried 10 feet beneath us in the shit.

Because the whole story, in anybody's story, is how to let the God shine through. And some days are more challenging than others!

(By the way, if you are not religiously inclined, and that really is ok, substitute the word God in the paragraphs above with Source, Force, Universe, Jesus. Creative Presence, Zach - because, in the end, the name we attach to that with fills our life with Good is less important than recognizing the force Itself. Yugo. Whatever).

So, I have been going through a tough time. Will I live? Probably, but at this point I have some very valid doubts. I might die. I hurt all over, I'm sick all over, and, at times, I am REALLY FUCKING TIRED OF PUTTING UP WITH THIS SHIT FOR THIS LONG. The reason I'm not afraid to say this is  that I KNOW I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE. This, though I'd like it to be, is not an uncommon feeling. Many  alcoholics/addicts and people in mental health recovery have felt or are feeling this.  My deal is that I'm one of the folks willing to talk about it.

Many of us who have grown up in 12-Step recovery programs have been taught that if you gain a certain simple attitude and follow these very simple instructions, you will gain "Sobriety" for the rest or your days of conscious existence. And it's true! Unless, of course, you have co-occurring conditions, or, the white-bread world of the founders of 12-Step programs doesn't apply to you, or you have something else going on besides pure alcoholism/addiction.

Listen (read) closely, because this might save your life or someone else's: There are as many ways to recover from substance use disorder and/or mental health disorders as there are people who have them. I can't, and would not want to, count up the number of needless deaths from people who have been taught and believed otherwise.

It's really possible that I'm trying to save my own life in writing this; perhaps I am, and maybe that's ok. If it's not, God, or the Universe, or Luke and his Force will let me know.

Recovery is individual. It's wonderful - very much so, if you drank for 20 years. stayed sober for 40 years, and died peacefully in your sleep. That isn't everybody's path, and, IT DOESN'T HAVE TO BE.

Recovery looks different for everybody. Even for those in a 12-Step recovery program. It would be really, really cool if this weren't the case, but it just doesn't seem to be so. Seemingly, there are as many recovery programs as there are people needing them. That's a big shocker, aintso? Seems to be the case, though.

Here's why I'm writing this: I am really, really done with running with the idea that people in need of recovery need one program - I've seen that kill people. I really have.

I think it would be really helpful for people in the recovery to start looking at recovery as more than an "all or nothing" type of thing. I think we might find more people experiencing recovery as a result.

And isn't that the goal? Or shouldn't it be?  I believe more now than ever in the support aspect of recovery. Getting to know a person, and finding out what they want their recovery to look like. Surprisingly enough, that's SAMSHA's idea as well.

Here's the bottom line: If I die tonight, (or this morning, by now), I die. Will I be considered a loser, because I did not have 35 years of so or recovery? Or will the things that I did while I was striving for recovery count? Let's face it, I'm going to take my consciousness with me, so whether I'm a complete loser or a complete success (or somewhere in between) are pretty much up to me. But shouldn't I (or we) offer others the same opportunity?

The very, very most important thing to do is to hang in there, because in so doing, you (and I) give the next person the opportunity to recover.

Namasté, 

Ken

Individualized Recovery

As a Certified Peer Specialist, I am grateful that we use SAMHSA's definition of recovery as a guide. As a person in recovery, I'm glad it's there - I needed validation that the things I am doing to stay sane and sober are ok. When I was first exposed to recovery at the tender age of 21, I was, pretty much, a nothing. I was whatever I thought you thought I should be. I was very good at it, which was not a good thing for my own recovery - when I did the things I was told to do to get better, I did them well (sometimes over-the-top well) in order to please others in recovery. Because these things I was told to do worked for others, I was unaware that there might be other things I could be doing. Also, because I was unable to be honest about what I really thought and how I really felt, nobody could tell me that what I was doing for my recovery might not be all that I needed. So I would do what I was told to do, and fail. And I repeated this process at least 15 times in a 32 year period.  It's been a long road to get on the road to finding me.

These are the things that I've experienced that I believe are necessary for recovery from both alcoholism/addiction and mental health conditions:

• A desire to recover (yes, not everybody who is sick desires recovery).
• Honesty -  with oneself and others.
• Acceptance that one has a condition which is currently controlling their lives in an undesirable way.
• Surrender to the fact that the person experiencing the condition(s) does not have the wherewithal alone to change, which brings about a sense of
• Humility - the person having the condition begins to understand that, powerful and knowledgeable as they are, they don't have all the answers.
• Open-mindedness to hear and listen to ideas about how to get better that may seem strange or make no sense.
• Hope for recovery, which most often comes from others in recovery.
• Trust or faith  in the process of recovery (which may include faith in a higher power, faith in a mentor, or simply faith in the process).
• Courage to face all the unpleasant-at-first things a person has to face in order to recover.
• Willingness to do things for recovery that the person might not like or might not believe will work.
• Connection or community with like-minded, supportive individuals.
• Purpose - the person in recovery develops a sense of purpose out of necessity - often, addiction and mental health conditions drain any sense of purpose from our lives. Often this purpose involves being of service to others, especially those afflicted with the same condition.
• Perseverance is required because recovery doesn't take place in a day, a week, or a month, and the process isn't a straight line up. There are often pitfalls and relapses, and recovery takes consistent and almost constant effort.
• A sense of safety - in their living environment, in the people in their lives, and, sometimes, safety from one's own actions.

These principles of recovery all 3 things in common:

• They are interconnected;
• Nobody can be perfect at practicing these principles;
• They are spiritual. 

A couple examples of interconnectedness: the desire to recover usually brings about some willingness, which has an element of courage and helps to give hope. Surrender leads to humility which will eventually require acceptance of what is.

And, because we are dynamic beings, and because we are either growing or dead, the depth to which we practice these principles is infinite. For instance, one may be committing a huge act of honesty when s/he finally admits that they are addicted to a substance; however, when one goes further, s/he finds honesty in telling other truths about themselves, which causes them to take a more honest look at their behavior and patterns in their lives, which brings about even more honesty. 

And how are these recovery principles spiritual? One, because the practice of these principles all require us to go against what our egos tell us is best, and two, the practice of these principles will lead the person in recovery to see that the earth does not revolve around him or her, that they are not alone (at least in having this condition), and that there is something taking place (recovery) that is bigger than him or her. Eventually, a person feels an authentic connection to others or even the Universe that wasn't there before. The person in recovery begins to feel a sense of belonging - first to their recovery community, then maybe to the rest of humanity, and possibly to the Universe. Usually it goes in this order.

Here is where individualized recovery comes in, and I will share my experience: I am a unique individual. Although I have more in common with the rest of the human race than I ever thought possible, there are certain things about me that are unique to me. One is my perspective. If a friend and I view a sunset, it is likely that we won't both have the same exact reaction to the same sunset. If I'm driving west and my friend is my passenger, the sunset may irritate me while enthralling her. Or, if we're standing at the shore of an ocean, our own past experience and how we're feeling in the moment will color our perception of this event. 

My experience of life is not exactly like anyone else's experience of life. Again there are many similarities, but there are things that also make our experience unique. Even siblings growing up in the same family can have a different experience of their parents. My own experience is that my experience with my parents is vastly different than my brother's and sister's experience with the same two people. Why? Lots of factors - my own illness, my parents' ages when my siblings were born as opposed to when I was born, and whatever issues my parents went through themselves, just to name a few.

My own illnesses brought me into experiences which aren't shared by everyone on the planet, and these experiences have colored my view of myself, of humanity, of life, and of God in a manner unique to me. Additionally, having co-occurring conditions seems to make recovery more challenging, so, seeing others recovering while I wasn't brought me a lot of shame, which I had to eventually deal with in order to recover. When I was in jail, I would often get the label 'smart' or 'intelligent', which was a non sequitir to me - if I'm so smart, what am I doing in jail? And that comment alone added to my shame.

I have my own likes and dislikes, which change over time, and my own beliefs that came from the culture and family in which I was raised. I become aware in recovery how this affects my recovery. 

SAMHSA's view is that recovery is individualized as well as person-driven. Given all that I've mentioned that makes me unique, this makes sense to me. This means that as a person in recovery, I need to be (or learn to be) sensitive to these things within myself so I can let my care providers and others to whom I'm connected in recovery know what has shaped my life. As a peer specialist, I need to understand that whomever I'm working with is unique, too, and to get to know that person as much as I can so that I can serve them as well as I possibly can. It really is a lot of work, but it's good work - for me, much of the richness of life comes from getting to know me and others who inhabit this planet with me.

My whole point in writing this: To remind myself, and possibly to inform others, that the recovery path is not a one-size fits all type of deal. If we truly want others to recover from mental illness and addiction, we have to make connections to we can learn as much as possible about what will aid recovery. Unfortunately, we seem geared in western society toward quick fixes and a take-a-pill approach that may seem to work in the short run, but can be damaging in the long run. However, I believe that the more we persist in looking for long-term solutions, the more knowledgeable and effective we'll become at healing our dis-ease. There is a solution, and it is in each one of us.

Namasté, 

Ken

Recovery from Depression

Regarding my Facebook post about being in recovery for 3 years, a couple people asked me what I did to recover from depression. I know the answers a woven through this blog of mine, but I answered one person pretty concisely, and I was surprised at how involved recovery has been. Here are the steps I took/am taking to stay in recovery from depression:

1. Accept that I have a mental illness that I have no clue how to recover from.
2. Stop drinking.
3. Pray.
4. Begin trusting others to guide me.
5. Begin treatment.
6. Begin taking prescribed medication.
7. Improve my diet and try to alleviate possible nutritional deficiencies with supplements.
8. Begin going to mental health support groups (along with alcoholism recovery support groups).
9. Enter into therapy and learn CBT (Cognitive Behavioral Therapy). Apply these lessons to my life daily (hourly or second-by-second).
10. Develop a support network.
11. Be of service to others.
12. Share my story.
13. Drain the shame.
14. Take risks.
15. Exercise my body.
16. Do the things I love.
17. Learn to love myself, trust God, and trust others.
18. Reach out to those I don't even know.

Now, there's a few problems with this list. First of all, it's my list. I had to go out and discover what I need to to. Another person will have a different list, depending upon what that other person discovers they need to do. The second problem is that if you had given me this list 3 years ago, I would have done one of two things: I would have crumpled it up and thrown it away and given up, or I would've tried to do everything on the list in a week's time, failed, and given up. The third problem with this list is it's dynamic. I don't necessarily do all of those things every day, and I might add or subtract something tomorrow. The fourth problem I see is that it really leaves out a lot of stuff - stuff like getting out of bed when I don't want to get out of bed; talking to someone about feeling suicidal rather than toughing through it; accepting the good in my life, even if I feel I'm not up to it (that might fall under taking risks); plus, a lot more.

Probably a better answer to the question of "How do I or a loved one recover from depression" is: seek out every resource you can, choose what works best for you, and stick with it.

We live in a society of followers - we follow what the government says is good for us, what the pharmaceutical companies tell us is good for us, what doctors who have never recovered from anything tell us is good for us. I've had to put on the explorer hat and coat and find out for myself. There's a lot of good information and other stuff out there, but I had to seek it rather than waiting for it to come to me. I had to become the leader in my own life, and I had to make recovery my quest. It wouldn't have worked for me any other way.

I hope that answers your question!

Namasté,

Ken