It's An Inside Job

Today I celebrated 1 full year of abstention from alcohol and other mood-altering substances. I am very grateful that I no longer have the compulsion to escape my experience through drugs and alcohol. A lot of really neat things have happened this year, as often happens to addicts and alcoholics when we put down the substance and begin working a program of recovery. I've chronicled these events over the past year in this blog, but the biggest thing that has happened this year is that I have been relieved of the habit of sabotaging my recovery, the symptoms of major depressive disorder, and have experienced more emotional healing than ever before. This past year has been the best year of my life so far.

As you might know, this isn't my first rodeo. I've been trying to recover, with various levels of effort, for 38 years. I've experienced many periods of sobriety, ranging from several months to a little more than 3 years. About 7 years ago, I began addressing my mental health disorder, major depressive disorder, in earnest. I've experienced this mood disorder for most of my life, and it was around before I started drinking. For a lot of reasons, I was in denial that I have a mood disorder, and this denial greatly diminished my chances of recovery - from anything. When I began to accept it and really start addressing it, I was able to attain 3 years of sobriety. Then the journey to relapse began again, and I began drinking again, with all the attendant problems of relationship damage, job loss, homelessness, and legal issues. I sought treatment yet again, and found out that I also have to learn to deal effectively with trauma. (Everybody who experiences trauma deals with it, one way or another - it's just that what I could come up with on my own did not work very well). So for the 6 months or so before my last relapse, I began to work on that as well. I didn't realize that I had begun making progress until after the last relapse, when I was able to stop suicidal ideation and the desire to die. I began to have enough ambition toward healing that I was able to begin to consistently apply to my life the tools I've been learning over the past 4 decades.

So here's the deal: I have a problem with sobriety 'birthdays'. I know that it's important to note milestones in recovery, but I think - well, I know, in my case - that the quantity (time) of sobriety does not necessarily have very much to do at all with the quality of sobriety. Yes, if I've been sober a year, I must be doing something right, but the same is true if I've been sober a day. Just putting the plug in the jug, as they used to say, does not reverse the psychological and emotional damage my addiction and my mental illness have done to me.

By the way, I didn't stay sober a year. I stayed sober each day that I woke up and desired another day of healing and recovery. So far, that's been the past 365 days.

There is a lot of outer evidence that my addiction is arrested: first of all, I haven't been (arrested)! But I've also managed to maintain good steady employment, I'm homeful again (as opposed to homeless), I have a valid driver's license again, and I haven't been broke in at least 9 months. Like time in sobriety, however, these things don't necessarily attest to what is going inside of me, and that's where I really live. 

I heard something a number of years ago that was a revelation to me - that when everybody in my life (family, employer, probation officer, counselor, doctor, banker, friends) said I had a problem with my drinking, they didn't know that drinking was not my problem - drinking was my solution. I won't begin to accept sobriety until I accept that my solution no longer works, and surrender to the fact that because of the damage my disease has done to me, I'm unable to come up with a better solution. I must have help on the journey of recovery.

And therein lies the problem of addiction recovery - eventually, hopefully more sooner than later, I have to take responsibility for my own recovery. Because I've stopped drinking, and because I've got people in my life encouraging me and supporting me in my recovery, my life gets better - alcoholics and addicts get their job back, their woman back, their truck back, their probation officer tells them they're doing great and puts them on the lowest level of supervision, their mama's stopped worrying, and on and on and on. They get congratulated on a year's sobriety. That's awesome! But if the alcoholic/addict in recovery is not aware, and has not assumed responsibility for their own recovery, relapse will happen. It's not the stuff on the outside that made us use; it's the stuff on the inside. And nobody but the person in recovery knows what's going on on their insides. A human being's subconscious, addict or not, drives 90% of the human's behavior, until they become aware or conscious. This is perfectly fine, unless there's stuff in the subconscious that is counterproductive to living a decent life and, again, because of the wounds we've inflicted upon ourselves through our addiction, there is inner stuff that needs to be healed in order to stay out of active addiction. And nobody, not even your closest girlfriend, can tell you what's going on in your subconscious. That's something each individual has to find out for themselves, through whatever means are available.

This is why I mentioned earlier that the biggest miracle in my life has not been that I've been able to abstain for a year, but that I have stopped experiencing the symptoms of major depressive disorder. My recovery from depression fuels my sobriety, because when I don't hate myself, when I don't think I'm a piece of shit, when I don't want to die - in other words, when I like myself enough - I have no desire to drink, and I know how to stay away from drinking. I do understand that, as an alcoholic in recovery, I will need to work a program of recovery for the rest of my life in order to stay sober. I've been around long enough to see what happens to people who stop working their program, no matter how much 'time' they have in. But, by the same token, if I want to stay in recovery from alcoholism, I also need to learn what I need to do to stay in recovery from depression, and that's what I've been doing this past year. And, for me, recovery from depression involves a whole lot more than "taking my medication." That's what makes my psychiatrist happy when I talk to her every 3 months, but it's not what necessarily makes me happy.

In conclusion, dear friends, it's nice to enjoy the outer rewards of recovery, and to be recognized as being in recovery. Recovery wouldn't look too attractive if there weren't some hope that someone or Something could pull us out of the gutter. I know how to put the pieces back together and how to get approval from others, but this year I've been learning something I never learned before in this lifetime - how to approve of and respect myself, and how to like myself and love myself and love life. That's something nobody else can give me, no matter what I do or how hard I try. It can only come from inside.

Namasté,

Ken

The Challenge of Medication

I'm currently in an outpatient treatment program, and have a new psychiatrist. He's a good psychiatrist; he possesses one of the most important yet rare traits a good physician can possess - he knows how to listen. At any rate, after many questions regarding my life and my condition, he has prescribed 4 medications for me. This is the greatest amount of medications I've ever been on at one time in my life, and it presents a challenge for me.

If you've read the white space in my blog, you might know that deep down, I want to be dependent only upon the Christ Presence within - that is, the unique individuation of the Universe that I Am. I'm not there yet. 

During this current outpatient treatment, I'm not only releasing my dependency upon alcohol, I'm releasing my dependency upon nicotine and pseudoephedrine, an over-the-counter (but controlled) nasal decongestant and antihistamine. It's mood-altering because of its stimulant properties and it seems to be habit forming, at least for me. Pseudoephedrine is also one of the ingredients used to make methamphetamine. I suppose caffeine and sugar are next on the chopping block - they're both mood-altering for me.

So I may be sober, but not really, because I still rely upon substances to get through life, to get through the way I feel. And my good doctor is telling me, "Get off of that stuff (the stuff that in the long run no longer works and will make me sick or kill me) and get on this stuff (the stuff that is sold by pharmaceutical companies and works today and doesn't make me sick yet)." 

And this is the challenge: I know deep down that the chemical and culinary methods I've been using to stay sane don't work to well anymore (if at all) and I don't have a lot of faith that the medication regimen that I'm on now will work forever and ever, and I don't want to get hooked into the pharmaceutical merry-go-round, which really isn't all that merry. Added to this challenge is the fact that on my current regimen of medications, I'm feeling better than I have in a long, long, time, if ever. I was walking today in the frigid weather, and I was making up a song, out loud, as I walked! It's been years and years since I've done that! And there's a lot of other stuff happening in my life that indicates the cloud is lifting.

The clouds might lift, but they always seem to be waiting in the wings to return (that's depressing, isn't it?). So what's the answer to the challenge that I'm feeling great now, but because of the temporary nature of solutions that originate from outside of me, I'm bound to fall again? I believe the answer is in proper self care along with putting first my recovery and learning to live, not just know, my connection with the Universe. All the answers are hidden within; my task, while I'm feeling weller, is to go within and earnestly seek. In this way, I will know what to do when the medications' effects begin to wane. 

In the next post, The Challenge of Self-Care (which will be linked just as soon as it's written), I'll discuss how I might go about developing habits which reduce the need for chemical relief from life.

Namasté,

Ken

The Power of Connection

Today I went to work, and I was blessed to hear an awesome recovery speaker. That's the way things happen for me of late - I suit up and show up and good things happen for me. Anyway, the man sharing his story really touched my heart in so many ways. You know, when we say 'touched my heart,' it's not just a figurative saying, it's literal. I could feel the effects of his sharing in my body, mainly in my chest. I get lots of stuff that goes in and out of my head all day long, but the things that really affect me, that are transformative, I feel. But as I'm listening to this guy, I realize that I'm on the clock - I'm getting paid to sit here and be uplifted. It doesn't get any better than this, and I haven't done anything other than suit up and show up.

Story telling is as old as humanity. People got together at the end of the day and shared their experiences with one another. That's how humans bond and feel connected - we have different experiences, yet we feel the same things - love, joy, fear, doubt, terror, humor, happiness, mystery, etc. 

Early on, I acquired the belief that it was better to live life alone - to not share my experiences or feelings with others. That sounds very lonely, but it's also very safe. Safety trumps connection. For me, however, being a hermit did not get my other needs met, so I learned to create the appearance of connecting with others. Basically, I learned how to act. I've spent much of my life acting as if I liked and trusted people and knew how to get along, when, in reality, I didn't. I trusted no one.

I do regret a little bit that I didn't have bigger cojones - all the times I had opportunities to look someone, someone who was trying to help me, in the eye and be honest and say to them, "You know what? I don't trust you. You know why? Because you're a human being, and human beings suck. If I put any trust whatsoever in you, you will hurt me, and that's not going to happen." I was way, way, way too nice and polite for my own damn good. In my own defense, I thought I was protecting myself, because to me, the threat was real. I was living the way I believed I had to live to survive.

So I managed to go through life acting as if I had friendships and relationships without ever really letting my guard down and letting people in. And every couple of years I would have a meltdown and become despondent and suicidal, surprising the people around me because I was such a good actor.

Five years ago, I understood that I would never be able to stay sober until I became authentic - until I let my guard down, allowed others to know the real me, and be vulnerable. That's a pretty tall undertaking for someone who didn't even know himself, and was pretty sure that himself wasn't someone anyone would want to be around anyway. I never liked me, why would anybody else? So I worked on knocking down the walls. I had one more relapse before I got to the point where I realized the job was too big for me alone.

I want to take a paragraph to interject about God and spirituality. Most of my life I've sought God, or Spirit, or Source, and, as I've mentioned in previous posts, I've got a pretty good radar for the Truth.  Somewhere inside I knew a relationship with God would 'fix' me. I thought if I could seal that relationship with God, I wouldn't have to worry about my relationship with others. My logic was a little fuzzy, now that I look at it, but I wanted the security and safety of having God in my life without the ickiness of having to get involved with the rest of His children. Some people may be able to do this; however, it doesn't seem to be my path.

So this last relapse, a little over 3 years ago, did it for me. Alcohol and depression had stripped me bare. It took me back to being the helpless, vulnerable 5 year old boy who was very afraid of living and had no idea what to do about it. I was exactly where I needed to be, and I surrendered - I stopped trying to cover up. I stopped trying to be the person who knew what he was doing. I just stopped. 

Perhaps the greatest blessing of my life is that I've always had great people in my life. Wherever I've been, from church to prison, from Ivory Towers to Skid Row, I've met the most giving, wise, compassionate, loving people a person could ever desire to meet. I've recognized this fact for a long time, but I failed to accept the gifts the Universe kept shoving in front of me - until 3 years ago. I began to say 'yes' to the kindness and compassion of those around me. I began to say 'yes' to the gifts that were laid at my feet - tentatively at first, sort of like an abused, starving dog will tentatively accept food from a kind stranger. After a bit of accepting the kindness and help from the good people in my life, I began to feel more secure. I began to feel safe. And I began to get better. I began to believe that I am a valuable person who is deserving of life and who has something to offer to others. And I discovered that that person was there all along, buried under a mountain of hurt and shit and shame. And I let others help me dig him out and clean him up. 

I've still got lots of healing to experience - I expect it to take the rest of my life. But along the way, I can help others find their way to healing. And I know that I can do that by fostering a connection with others. That's still very challenging for me. I don't get out of bed in the morning and say, "Oh wonderful! Another day of connection with the sick and injured of the world!" But I do know what is mine to do, and I willingly do it because I know I am supported in this endeavor by the Universe. I feel enough safety and security today to go out and share what I've been given.

Connection to others is what I rely upon to stay sober and sane today. Simply put, I couldn't connect with others because I was afraid and I could not trust. 

Connection is dropping the shields and letting another human being that I know what it's like to feel lost and alone, and to let that other person know that they're not as alone as they think they are, and that they are safe. It's about showing someone that it's ok and it's safe to be vulnerable, and that true Love doesn't hurt, it heals. And when I drop my shields and give my Love away, I get more Love back and I heal a little more. It's really a pretty good deal. 

Namasté

Ken

How Long or How Many?

Something that bothers me from time to time is the habit of measuring sobriety or abstinence by time. Very often one hears, "I've got 90 days!" or "I've got a year!" I know people in recovery that haven't had a drink or a mood altering drug in over 40 years. Length of abstinence is important - it shows others that recovery is possible, and it shows a certain amount of character. 

I mentioned that I know people who have managed to remain abstinent for decades. A few of those people I would not want to be with in the same room - they're toxic. Length of sobriety is not the same as quality of sobriety (or quality of life); however, up until now, because I've never been able to string more than a couple of years of abstinence together, I haven't had much to say about it. I do now, because I understand recovery is about learning to live from the inside out.

Length of sobriety is important to people just starting out, and important to all the other people in the alcoholic's/addict's life. Length of sobriety is important to one's parole officer, boss, domestic partner, family, and any non-alcoholic/addict with whom I share my sobriety. But because the time away from mood-altering drugs is only a very small factor in how I'm really doing, it's not important to me.

Here is a short list of some things I ask myself about my recovery, and the questions, rather than starting with "How long," begin with "How many."

• How many opportunities have I taken to share my story with someone else contemplating sobriety?
• How many times have I admitted I was wrong?
• How many times have I told the truth when what I really wanted to do was cover up my actions or my embarrassment?
• How many times have I attended support groups to share recovery with others?
• How many times have I said, "I don't know," when I didn't know?
• How many times have I picked up someone else's litter without complaint?
• How many times have I done the right thing, even though it was harder and more scary than doing what first came to mind?
• How many times have I wanted to give up, but instead called someone, or prayed, or simply persevered?
• How many times have I set aside my wants to be of service?
• How many times have I paid an obligation before buying something I wanted?
• How many times have I taken constructive criticism without becoming angry or resentful?
• How many jobs have I had since I got sober? How many girlfriends/boyfriends? Cars? Apartments or rooms?
• How many times have I dared to travel the road less traveled?
• How many times have I spoken up about something important, even though it might make me unpopular?
• How many times did I do what my mentors suggested, even though I didn't believe it would work?
• How many times did I seek out people rather than isolate?
• How many times have I given someone the benefit of the doubt when I thought they had wronged me?
• How many times have I prayed for people I really can't stand?
• How many times have I attempted to make an honest connection with another human being?

And the list can actually go on and on and on. 

How long has it been since I had a drink of alcohol? 33 months and a couple of days, which is the longest stream of continuous sobriety I've experienced. That's great, wonderful, but the really miraculous part of that time is how many of those 'how many' questions I can answer positively. 

I've already gotten through all of the hard days in my life, and I've survived! So the hardest day of my sobriety, and the only one that matters to me, is today. If I apply what I've learned along this journey, it'll be a great day. If I don't, and just stay home and do nothing, who knows?

Namasté, 

Ken

Thriving Through the Holidays

The holiday season is a stressful season for just about everybody. I think one would have to be comatose in a sensory deprivation tank to not be affected by the holiday season one way or another. For the person in recovery from addiction and/or mental health conditions, the holidays can be a particularly dangerous time. Because it is stressful, and because the symptoms of our disorders might have made past holidays worse, lots of us walk around already on edge and perhaps dreading upcoming events.

Here are some of the things I practice to make the holidays enjoyable:

Abstain from drinking/using or trying to escape

This almost goes without saying; however, many people feel stress so strongly that 'a little glass of wine' seems perfectly justified. However, we also know that a little glass of wine can turn into an argument, a drunk driving ticket, or even worse. Others of us try to escape by trying to ignore the holidays and isolating. This may be an ok coping mechanism, but for me, embracing this time of year makes me feel much better inside than trying to avoid it. I prepare some lines to say when offered that drink or drug: "I like the holidays better sober." "I'm allergic - whenever I drink (or use), I break out in handcuffs." "I'm driving the sleigh tonight." I also remember that under no circumstances am I required to justify what I  choose to abstain from putting in my own body.

Always remember that I'm not the only one who is stressed

That idiot driver on Bluemound Road who keeps creeping into my line while racing toward Brookfield Square has stuff on their mind, too. Be gentle and patient. It's not an easy time for anyone. And, along those lines,

Be extra kind to those who serve me this time of year

The servers who take my order, the retail clerks that check me out, anybody working this time of year is stressed out. Many people have to work extra hours, so they have the stress of working more, plus their own holiday celebrations, plus the stress that comes along with lots of people contact. It's not easy to maintain a pleasant demeanor when working for a million customers in a day, especially when the customers are often stressed and impatient.

Avoid ruining someone else's experience of the holidays

Everybody, and I mean everybody, has a different experience of the holidays. Personally, I believe I can do without them. I have my own views on the 'meaning of Christmas', but it's not necessary for me to foist my views on anybody else. I don't have to go along with everyone and everything, but neither do I have to make everyone conform with my view. For some people, this is their favorite time of year. For others, it isn't. And it's all ok.

Practicing gratitude

For me, gratitude is an appreciation of all that I've been given, and I've been given a lot! My life is abundant. I can show my appreciation for others by connecting with others this season and giving meaningful gifts from the heart - even if it's just taking a minute to let someone know that I appreciate their presence in my life.

Lower my expectations

Actually, for me, having zero expectations is best. When I take an attitude of, "Let's see what happens," life becomes more pleasant with less disappointment. So when I drive to Brookfield Square, I don't expect to park in front of the store I want to go to. When I'm shopping, I don't expect to be able to breeze in and out of the store in two minutes. 

Take care of myself by:

Adopt a service attitude

In any situation, when I go in with an attitude of 'how can I be of service here,' I usually have a pleasant experience. If I go in thinking, 'What am I going to get out of being here,' if I do actually get something, it probably won't be enough. I can control what I give; I can't control what's given me.

Supporting others

I go to more support groups, again with an attitude of service and giving. When I'm in giving mode, I don't feel lack; when I'm in receiving mode, I often feel lack. Also, when I go to more support groups, I generally feel pretty good about my situation. When I listen to others share what they're going through, I recognize that I'm pretty happy with my 'problems'.

Treating my body well

I make my health a priority. I get enough sleep. I endeavor to say 'no' when I've had enough food (always a challenge). I say 'no' to some commitments, and I try to avoid getting drained.

Taking time for connecting with my Higher Power

This is so important. When I quiet myself, and ask my Higher Power what is important, and how I should show up, I get strength and direction.

Rejecting guilt/staying in my integrity

I always give from the heart first; sometimes my wallet is involved, too. I don't give because someone else expects that I should. If I believe that desiring for someone that they have a prosperous and happy New Year is enough, then that's what I'm giving. I do not let others set my expectations for me. The bonus to this is that when I don't cave in to someone else's expectations, this gives freedom for others to do the same. Additionally, I do not overspend. There is absolutely no reason for me to rack up 3 months worth of debt to celebrate whatever I'm celebrating. That is, to me, insane, and I'm trying to step away a bit from insanity.

It can be very challenging to look out for ourselves during the holidays. We are inundated with ideas about the way the holidays 'should' (ooh, there's that dirty word) be celebrated. This can actually be a time for us to look into our hearts to see how we want to celebrate, and know that it is perfectly ok (just as it is perfectly ok for someone else to celebrate in the manner they choose).

So, to sum up, the holidays are an excellent opportunity for me to practice:

Compassion

Patience

Kindness

Loving service

Giving of myself

Living from the inside out

Peace

Joy

I wish for you a most joyous and healthy holiday season and a Happy and Prosperous New Year!

Namaste,

Ken

Thank You

Yesterday I celebrated two years of sobriety and recovery from depression. It seems like it's been a really long two years, and at the same time, it seems like just yesterday that I could barely walk and was sitting in the Waukesha Alano Club drinking free coffee waiting for the Salvation Army to open so I could get a bed for the night.

All of the things I have experienced over the last two years I could not have imagined, because I had given up (almost) all hope of ever having any kind of a life. 

I would not be here today if I had not stopped drinking (of course), but also if I had not addressed my mental health condition. I am very grateful for the many people that come into my life to teach me, assist me, and support me. And I am especially grateful for the people who allow me to share my experience, strength, and hope with them - the patients at Waukesha Memorial Hospital, the residents of Genesis House, and the people who avail themselves of the programs at NAMI-Waukesha. Without you, I would have no purpose. 

I am grateful to be able to acknowledge the Power of the Universe, and that I am learning how to let that Power work in me and through me. And I am grateful that I have lots to look forward to. And I can honestly say that I'm grateful for my illnesses - in seeking relief, I have found a meaningful life and a beautiful world that I never would have sought if I had not been ill.

I am grateful that today I love myself enough to want to continue on this journey.

Namaste,

Ken

Why Recover?

I work with people who desire recovery - from either addiction/alcoholism and/or mental illness. Sometimes I run across folks who are on the fence - they desire a better way of living, but aren't yet ready to give up their present way of living. I know how to guide people in recovery. I know the actions to take and the things to avoid. If a person is open, honest, and willing, I can show them the way, because I have been shown the way and walked the path myself. It's a wonderful thing to be able to do that.

I don't know how to get anyone to quit drinking or using drugs. Well, maybe I do, but I wouldn't suggest my path. It involves multiple arrests, multiple incarcerations, multiple marriages, multiple failed attempts at education and jobs, multiple health scares, lots of loss, and, finally, the loss of self.  It's been a really, really long path to get to where I am today, and I can't recommend it to anybody because they might not survive what I have survived.

So, my question to me has been lately, "How much, if any, energy and time do I spend on someone who isn't ready to give up their illness in order to get well?"  Before I was in the human services field, the answer was, "Not much. They'll come when they're ready, if they don't die first." Now that I'm getting paid to do it, the answer is different. And as I wrote that, that brings a bothersome question to mind - do I have to get paid in order to not turn my back on someone? That sucks. I'll deal with that later.

How do I let someone know that if they've had problems with alcohol in the past that changing their environment or changing what they drink or switching to a better drug or finding a better girlfriend/job/church/car probably will not be all that helpful in the long run?

I think right now all I can do is state why I am in recovery (or 
discovery, as I like to think of it): I have been tired of me for a long time. I didn't start drinking and using drugs and searching for things that might make me happy because I was totally happy with myself and with life. I drank and sought other ways to be OK because I wasn't OK. As I have stated innumerable times before, and I'll state again, if any of that stuff I tried to use to make myself happy actually worked, I would not be sitting here right now. I'd be a rich, fat happy drunk living in Utah with 17 wives. Now, one can examine that sentence and see that those words don't even go together. Not gonna happen.

I believe that humans, at least this human, are made up of two things - our soul, which to me is the individuation of Source expressing, and our ego, which is the very limited version of our soul in human form. In other words, we are spiritual beings having a human experience. This is not a new idea, by the way. The challenge with this is that in our human experience we've forgotten who we really are.  It's as if we went to acting school, graduated, and landed the role of Hamlet, and gotten so into the role that we've forgotten that we're not really Hamlet. And long after the play is over, we're still acting like Hamlet, and that causes problems in life. Because it was a play. It wasn't real.

So the challenge I have is that there is a Real Me, and an Earth me, and the Real Me is a much better deal than the Earth me, but the Earth me is much louder and seems more real to me than the Real Me really is. (And now you know just a little bit of what it's like to live in my head!)

Real Me is tucked up inside Earth me somewhere, and my job is to find Real Me. One of the big differences between Earth me and Real Me is that Earth me lives from the outside in, and Real Me lives from the inside out. Earth me needs things like approval and sex and good looks and money and things to be happy. Real Me doesn't need anything. Earth me lives in a fear-based world of scarcity; Real Me is Love and lives in abundance. Earth me doesn't always believe Real Me exists - in fact, it took a really long time for me to even get a glimpse of Real Me, so enmeshed in Earth me that I was. But Real Me is real, and each day I set about re-discovering Real Me and letting him It out on Earth.

The reason drinking, drugging, chasing money, approval, physical love, etc., doesn't work for Earth me is because Earth me can't get enough of anything, and Real Me taps Earth me lightly on the shoulder and lets him know. Bit by bit, day by day, I let Real Me out to play as Earth me fades away.

So why recover? Because the drunk in me is not the Real Me, and it's become really painfully apparent to me. Why get mentally healthy? Because every thought I have about living in lack and limitation is not Real(ly) Me, and having a consciousness that lives in lack and limitation is a really miserable place to live. So, recovery is about discovery of who Real Me is, and in order to allow Real Me to shine, I need to let go of my old actions and my old thinking. It does not happen overnight, and it is very challenging. But the more I continue down the path of discovery, the more rewarding it becomes.

So I suppose what I would say to someone on the fence is that if you always do what you've always done, you'll always get what you've always gotten, and if that makes you happy, keep it up. If it doesn't, try a different path, and I'll be happy to walk with you.

Namaste,

Ken

Distractions!

One of the main challenges to recovery is distractions. The recovery that I want to experience, which includes complete sobriety and freedom from the debilitating symptoms of my mental health condition, requires consistent attention to maintain. Freedom from the symptoms of my conditions does not guarantee that I will remain symptom free. And my understanding from others is that this is something everybody in recovery has to deal with - my head wants to think that just because I'm sober and sane today, I'm good to go. In reality, that's not the case.

I have experienced this enough to understand that it isn't necessarily the 'bad' things in life that will send me back to my diseases. Very often, probably most often, it's the 'good' things that come my way as a result of recovery that will start me on the road to relapse. What starts me on the road to relapse is forgetting that I deal daily with a chronic, fatal condition. Even though I appear 100% (well, maybe 90%) healthy in mind and body today, I need to pay attention to my thoughts, feelings, and actions more than your average guy walking down the street. I don't know if it's good or bad, but relapse doesn't wait for me just around the next corner, ready to pounce. It's further down the road. I can get into trouble long before I'm aware of it, and that is why vigilance is a good thing to practice if I want to stay in recovery.

Ok, so where is all of this stuff going? Well, a few months ago I got back on Facebook. I had been on Facebook a few years back, and had gotten off of it because back then, I didn't understand that I did not have to respond or react to everything everybody posted. I realized I was getting way too far into others' business, and I didn't want to do that, so I deactivated my account. It was really on a whim that I signed up again, but I thought maybe I could do some good sending good vibes out into the community. The results on that aren't in yet.

I find Facebook fascinating and addictive. Peering into your life is so much more fun and interesting than peering into my own (It just struck me that I'm the one responsible for that, so I'll have to make my own life so interesting that I don't feel the need to escape into yours. Pretty way of saying, "Get a life!") So, I found myself spending a lot of time on Facebook. This time around, I know enough to keep a lot of my opinions to myself. However, I still have trouble keeping your opinions to yourself. With all of the political unrest we've been experiencing here in the US, I've been witness to what a lot of people are feeling and (not) thinking. And it has upset me. And instead of turning it off, turning my attention elsewhere, I just kept at it. And that was the warning sign for me - my behavior was making me sick, and yet I felt compelled to continue on with it. What was becoming important in my life was the news and views of everybody else and their brother. Not good if I want to stay in recovery. Not healthy at all.

A distraction is anything that takes my attention away from my recovery, for whatever reason. I am not being dramatic when I state that in order for me to stay alive, much less function as a useful human being, I must keep recovery at the center of my life. If I don't I will die.

So I 'fessed up to one of my accountability partners as to what was going on, and it was suggested to me that I stay off of Facebook for a while until I get back on track. In other words, abstain. I haven't been able to do that yet, but I have cut back on my time spent on Facebook. Sometimes I feel like I need to get away from things totally for a little while, like Jesus did from time to time, but I'm afraid that if I get out of life for a minute, I won't be able to get back in. Hmmm, that sounds like something that needs to be faced.

Facebook is a quasi-addiction for me, for whatever reason. I can tell, because I will spend time doing that and neglect more important parts of my life. That's a simple definition of an addiction. I don't want to let it go entirely because I think it's possible to use Facebook in a positive way, and it's kind of fun. And here's the rest of my reasoning:

I mentioned earlier that distractions can lead me down the road to relapse. The problem isn't what the distraction is, the problem is how I pay attention to it. One of the things that I try to impart to others in recovery is that anything can be a distraction. Many people come into recovery with nothing - we've lost it all. We begin with "I'm powerless over ______, and my life is unmanageable." Once we've surrendered to that, we can begin getting better. And as we recover, the things we've lost in life start coming back to us - our physical health, our mental/emotional health, friends, lovers, a job, a place to live, a vehicle, a drivers' license, etc. All of these can be distractions. A distraction isn't necessarily a bad thing; the dangerous thing about a distraction is, again, it can aid in my downfall by taking my attention away from what is most important - my recovery. A good job will do that to a lot of people. How many people have I known that once they get their job and apartment line up, they're done with the recovery community. And I don't know that every one of them relapsed, but I know for myself that in order to stay in recovery, I need to stay in recovery. 

How do I keep recovery at not only the center of my life, but the center of my being? Let me tell you what happens when I allow something to begin to take precedence over recovery - I don't get enough sleep. It doesn't matter what it is - Facebook, a job, a relationship, a shiny new car, whatever. When I lose sleep, getting up in the morning is really, really difficult, and so I revert to my old habit of getting up late, getting cleaned up enough to get out the door and go to work. In other words, I meet the world unprepared. An important practice in keeping my recovery first is starting the day in communion with my Higher Power, my Source, my top priority. Without my Higher Power, I don't exist. If I try to live life without my Higher Power, pretty soon my life won't exist. I have to get back in the habit of starting my day with God. However I do that, I have to do it. I cannot sustain what I have on my own steam.

Distractions are out there. Or maybe in here, not sure which. In any event, they are a part of life, and I don't want to can't stay sober and sane by avoiding life. That's why I drank! I wanted to escape! So, I suppose the answer is to, as part of my daily spiritual practice, ask Source to guide me in where I should be placing my attention and time today. When I let go and surrendered 20 months ago, I was given, day by day, a life that I love but I couldn't dream of. Nothing has changed; God provides, I just need to concern myself with what is mine to do today. So I go to God for my recovery and my sustenance.

Namaste,

Ken

Another Milestone

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

Acceptance that I Have This...Thing

More on acceptance. Acceptance is such an important quality to have for recovery from probably any condition, but especially for recovery from a mental health condition (including addiction). Acceptance is a hard concept to define, to say exactly what it is. I can tell you what it looks like, and I can tell you what it doesn't look like. I can tell you when I am in acceptance and when I'm not. But I can't define it perfectly, and each person's path to acceptance looks different for each person.

I'm not depressed today (even though it's raining and winter is just around the corner). I'm not drinking alcohol or using other drugs today. So, how can I say I have the diseases of alcoholism and depression? My mind says, "I don't have a disease. I am perfectly healthy. My vital signs are perfect, my cholesterol is perfect, I've got no pain, there's no pus or discharge anywhere. I am disease free!" This is very true in this moment (other than the cold I have, but I wanted to use the statement above for an example), but if I allow this thinking to continue without qualifiers, I'll get sick again. If I don't add the statement, "because of all I'm doing to stay healthy," I'll get sick again. In other words, I'm in remission today from those things that have plagued me most of my life, and in order to stay in remission, there are certain things that I must do.

Many years ago, my 1st wife and I were looking into getting life insurance. We invited the insurance salesman into our home, and let him give his spiel. It turns out that, even though I was sober at that time, my life was not insurable by his company because I had been through treatment for alcoholism. I was outraged! I asked him, "You mean that if I were still drinking today and had not been through treatment, you could sell me a life insurance policy?" Yep.

Today I'm not outraged. Today I understand that my life expectancy is, well, to be honest, zero. I'm past it. If I take an honest look at my history, I cannot guarantee to anyone - my friends, my family, my employers, anyone - that I won't become self-destructive today to the point that I die. Of course, I can't guarantee that anybody won't pass away today; however, odds are better for me to go today than for a lot of people because, you see, I have this thing.

Now, I don't go charging into job interviews and first dates with this happy news. I don't preface every interaction I have with the warning, "Danger: if you get close to me and care for me or invest your time, money, and energy in me, I'm going to eventually disappoint and probably hurt you." I have a lot of hope today that the good things I'm doing for myself are going to keep me from becoming the Ken who dies from alcoholism or suicide. I'm about 95% certain today that if I do die today, it'll be from something else. That's kind of a crappy way to look at things, because it's not entirely optimistic. It is, however, realistic.

And I think that's a lot of what acceptance is for me today - the continuing knowledge that I'm on life support at this moment, and this life support consists of many things. If I stop doing something that I am doing for my recovery, I may start getting sick. And the really neat thing is I don't know what that something is. I don't know if there is a 'key' to my recovery. I prefer to think that it is a healthy mix of many things.

So, back to acceptance - I don't like saying, "I am an alcoholic," because today I'm not drinking alcoholically. I'm not drinking at all. I don't like saying, "I have depression," because today, I have none (I think). Very often I will tell peers that I am in recovery from alcoholism and mental illness. I'm functioning today, sober and relatively sanely, because I am currently doing the things I need to do to stay sober and sane. I'm not cured.

There's the joke about the doe that came staggering out of the woods, panting, her fur disheveled, and said, "Boy, that's the last time I do that for two bucks!" Chances are, if she liked any part of the experience, it's not the last time. My point being that with some things, I will never learn my lesson. Even though I have been severely beaten by alcohol, and my vast experience with it has been negative, I can't simply say, "I'm finished, and I'll never do that again." I have accepted that I will drink again, I'm bound and destined to drink again, unless I maintain a certain attitude (acceptance) and continue to practice a recovery lifestyle.

In other words, for me, acceptance is not permanent. Acceptance is something that is dynamic - ever changing depending upon what I'm doing or not doing, and what I'm inviting into my life. This is why it's difficult to define, and also difficult to come up with a specific formula to gain acceptance.

I do, however, know the basic ingredients of acceptance - self-honesty, humility, openmindedness, willingness, and surrender. I have to be able to take a realistic look at myself and my life; I have to be convinced that I can't think my way out of my situation, and that in and of myself, I am powerless to do anything about my situation; I have to understand that I need to do things that with which I'm not comfortable and to believe, at least a little, at first, that if I cooperate with the process, I'll be ok and things will get better.

And that's why recovery from mental health conditions is not easy. There's not one thing that needs to be done to recover, there are many things. I can't watch a Youtube video and figure out how it's done. Figuring out how it's done is a daily deal.

So, no matter if I call it a disease or anything else, I have this thing, and if I want to live happily and free, I must do certain other things. And that is acceptance. The good news is that pretty much everything I do, if not everything, to stay in recovery benefits me, makes my life rich and meaningful, and benefits others. So part of acceptance for me is continuing to do the things I do to stay in recovery and remain conscious on a daily basis of the things that are working in my life. It's a daily cycle, just like my drinking and my depression used to be. It's the other side of the coin, because I no longer fight myself or anything else; I accept, deal with, and overcome on a daily basis.

Namaste,

Ken

Simplicity

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

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

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

Namaste,

Ken

Little Miracles

I like little miracles. Little miracles are easier for me to see and digest than are big miracles. For some reason, I'm not thrilled out of my pants to be alive, sober, and sane today. I'm grateful and I'm glad, but I don't have the feeling one might get from surviving or escaping a near-death experience, which I get to do on a daily basis. But I get to see little miracles every day, when I've a mind to.

Little miracles are those things that I experience that practically no one else would give a shit about. They are events and occurrences in my life which would not make the headlines, but they are meaningful to me. They are those things which show evidence of a Higher Power in my life. Things like waking up in the morning without feeling anger, fear, and dread. Things like paying my rent on time, and paying my debts. Things like being able to return love and compassion when I am confronted with a person filled with anger and grief. Things like being able to believe in things I don't yet see. Things like not having a lot materially, but being able to see the value in that which I do have. Things like having a ton of true friends and the feeling of being a part of, rather than apart from. Things like really being ok with sitting at a computer in the public library and shedding tears of joy without shame.

Winter is not my favorite season. I don't particularly care for wearing 50 lbs. of clothing to stay warm and having to slog through snow and ice. But I've been told that there is beauty and reason in everything that exists, no matter what the appearances are. The other day, I was slogging through the evidence of winter to an appointment, and I mentioned to the Universe how I thought it would be nice to see the beauty in this crap. I came to a golf course which, during summer months, I have cut across to shorten my walk. There was a sign that said 'Course Closed'. Of course. I usually take signs as suggestions, rather than as orders, and I began to walk across the golf course. What I began to see as I walked across the course reminded me of a picture postcard - the fairway was virgin snow, framed by trees on either side. I really don't have words to describe how pretty it looked to me as I walked forth to my destination, but I knew my request to the Universe had been granted - I was able to experience beauty in something in which I usually experience discomfort.

Each day in which I open my mind and my heart to the presence of my Higher Power is a day in which I can experience these little miracles, and I am grateful. Thank you God!

Namasté,
Ken

Celebrating Sobriety

I noticed my last post was about health. This one is related as well. It seems that when one passes the 50 year mark, thoughts and conversations become more about health - what parts we've lost, what parts we've had replaced, which parts hurt when we wake up in the morning, and which parts still seem to be working just fine.
In sobriety, health becomes a main concern, too. I realize that, as I mentioned in the last post, I abused my body with alcohol and other drugs off and on for many years. Alcohol affects every organ in the body, so when one is earnestly seeking recovery from alcoholism, one also becomes concerned with repairing the other damage.
So the rest of the post has nothing to do with the introduction other than I visited the oral surgeon today to have two teeth removed that had become more problematic than helpful. Sort of like unwanted employees, I guess. Anyway, I had 3 choices of anesthesia - local (Novocain, which numbs any part into which it is injected), Novocain with nitrous oxide (laughing gas), or conscious sedation (what I had when I had my colonoscopy). I indicated on the paperwork that I wanted the conscious sedation. My reason was because I had no side effects - i.e., cravings - from that type of sedation. I did not want the nitrous oxide, because I have abused it in the past, and it is the closest in effect in my mind to drinking. The good doctor either didn't read my paperwork or didn't care, but he used only Novocain. I thought he was going to cut the teeth out, but he pulled them. My wonder is why I was sent to an oral surgeon to have something done that a regular dentist could have done. File under: Oh well, whatever.
One of the things I need to work on in my recovery is assertiveness. Some days are better than others. This was an 'other' day. I did not tell the oral surgeon that I didn't want any narcotic painkillers prescribed to me, so he did. My plan was that I would take the ibuprofen I have at home. That's still my plan. I told the pharmacist to only fill the antibiotic prescription, not the painkillers.
Here I had to think - to choose one option out of several that came to mind. I used to use opiate painkillers recreationally. I have never gotten addicted to them. Sometimes it was years between use, but I took opportunities when they presented themselves to use them to get high. Every time I did, I was in abstention from alcohol, but not necessarily what I would call sober.
So all of the old thoughts came back - do I want to catch an opiate buzz for a few days? Nobody would know. Then I thought of honesty, which I've been practicing rigorously for the last 4 months (by the way, I celebrated 4 months of sobriety yesterday). I go to my recovery groups, I have my spiritual mentor whom I talk with several times a week, I have a therapist, and lots of friends in recovery. These questions came to mind, "Do I really want to hide my use from all of these people? Can I stand the feelings that my dishonesty would generate? Is using worth it?"
Then, I got an even better thought - I've worked really, really hard for the past 4 months to stay sober and to get into recovery from depression. "Do I want to jeopardize the progress I've made?"
Then I made the realization that I've actually been feeling fairly consistently good for the past month or two. "Do I want or even need to change the way I'm feeling right now?" I recognized that I appreciate my sobriety and my mental/emotional health, and that feels good. It feels good to acknowledge that I can live life happily and successfully without the use of mood-altering chemicals. Something is going right today and I don't want to change it.
I'm grateful for this experience. It showed me what I truly have right now, and it showed me that I can make skillful choices. I am grateful to be in recovery, and I'm grateful for my life today. Four months ago, I could not have honestly said (or written) that.

Namasté,

Ken