I've lived long enough now to have a couple or more "full-circle" experiences. That's where I look back and see that I'm in a very similar spot today as I was 20 or 30 years ago. These are neat experiences, because I can say today I'm doing things differently - I'm handling life more skillfully.
So, today's full-circle experience is this:
About 30 years ago, I was attending my 2nd university, and I got a job as a personal care attendant. I helped 3 students who had spinal cord injuries with some basic needs. I have forgotten exactly how I came to do this kind of work; I think it's because a friend of mine who was a survivor of polio turned me on to it. I'm going to note here that I didn't do the best job I could have - I was drinking from time to time at that time, and it interfered with me being on-call. I'm not that great at waking up and getting up when I'm sober; when I'm not sober, it can't be done at all.
I left my second university to enter into my second inpatient treatment for alcoholism. From treatment, I went to a halfway house. While I was at the halfway house, I secured a temporary position at a rehab/sheltered workshop for adults with TBI (traumatic brain injury) and developmental disabilities. I was an assistant to a man who had been injured in a car accident.
At the same facility I gained regular employment as a behavioral aide and a training instructor. I also began working for the county's developmental disabilities service agency - I was a CIA - a Community Integration Assistant. This was shortly after the Americans with Disabilities Act was passed, and the county in which I was living and working had group homes for adults who were previously institutionalized. One of the provisions of the ADA is that people with disabilities have the right to live in the least restrictive environment possible. Because of this, many people who had been confined to institutions were now living in CBRFs and group homes. My job was to take clients into the community for things like shopping or leisure time activities. It was a good part time job.
I was sober a lot of the time that I had these jobs, but there were times when I wasn't, and my drinking had a negative impact on my performance (which is a really nice way of saying that I was a f*#%-up when drinking).
The county agency for which I was working was bought by Lutheran Social Services, so, for a time, I was an employee. I quit in protest when they refused to hire the head of the agency they took over. At that time, I learned how effective quitting in protest is.
So, fast forward about 30 years - I am working for LSS again, as an Addictions Support Professional (something like that), and in January I will transition to full-time employment with NAMI as a Peer Program Assistant. Like my previous employment with non-profit agencies decades ago, I sort of fell into these jobs. Or was led into them. I haven't ever really consciously sought to do the type of work it seems I'm best at. My conscious brain (aka 'little me') wants to make a lot of money and have a position the seems prestigious to others. However, today I learn to listen less to 'little me' and more to my heart, which seems to know what it's doing.
A really nice thing is that I get to make amends, in a way. I'm a much better servant today of those who need serving that I've ever been before in my life. And today I am a trusted and reliable employee. That's one of the greatest blessings of full-circles - the chance to do things differently.
Namaste,
Ken
Saturday, December 10, 2016
Monday, November 21, 2016
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
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
Sunday, November 20, 2016
Becoming Better Organized - Part I
This is related to my last post. I recognize that if I want to succeed in my current vocational pursuits, I will have to become a little more focused, and a lot more organized.
And I'm not sure if it's going to be 'more organized' or 'less spontaneous'. You see, as noted in an earlier post, one of the trademarks of those experiencing alcoholism and/or addiction is that we have our operating system reversed. So-called 'normal' people make most of their decisions based on intellect over emotion. Alcoholics and addicts get to the point in our lives where our emotions run the show. The way I feel is my top priority. That's not a skillful way to operate in life, and it takes daily practice to get back to the understanding that if I take the right actions, eventually my emotions will follow suit, and I'll get them under control. I got very used to controlling the way I feel by dabbling in chemicals or in certain behaviors (eating, shopping, etc.) that alter my mood. This makes my life unmanageable, and to turn that around I need to begin to take skillful actions no matter what my feelings are saying. So, that's really a lot of what I do each day - practice acknowledging what I'm feeling, and then practice doing the next right thing anyway.
There's also a part of me - a big part, admittedly - that fears organization. There's a part of me that prefers chaos over order. (Note: people who have grown up experiencing abuse have a tendency to become addicted to the physical 'excitement' that abuse creates, and when the abuse is gone, can go through a withdrawal). There is something exciting about sleeping until 1 hour before work starts and seeing if I can make it on time. There is something exciting about jamming my schedule so tight that if something unexpected happens, I'm going to be late or miss a commitment. There is something exciting about wondering if someone is going to be pissed at me because I'm running late or missing a commitment. And there is something exciting about going to the store and seeing if my card will be accepted because I really don't know how much is in my account. Yes, I like living on the edge!
And this is one of the reasons that recovery from addiction is so much more that removing the addictive substance from my life. The drug is only partially responsible for creating the un-manageability in my life - the rest of the un-manageability is created by deeply ingrained thought processes, and, if I don't work on transforming my thought processes into something that works for me, I will return to using the substance.
I do not want to say that I am disorganized - I'm not. Saying 'I am disorganized' is untrue, it's a cop-out, and it's making me my own victim. I am organized. If I were disorganized, I'd be starving, needing a shower, wearing stinky clothes (if I were wearing clothes at all), with no place to live, and no job to go to. My life is organized well enough to live at the level at which I'm living now. But I desire to be healthier, more useful, more purposeful, more prosperous. In order to move in the direction of my desires, I need to increase my level of organization.
Now, if I were to write a list of all the ways in which I could be better organized, I would be overwhelmed and just not do it. There's too much stuff! All areas of my life could stand some improvement!
One of the areas of my life that seems to invite improvement is consistency. I know lots of good life practices. Tons. Practicing any of them consistently? Not so much. So perhaps I need to pick one or two things and start doing them consistently, and see what happens.
Here's where I'll admit something that is difficult for me to admit - I am not consistent with prayer and meditation. I pray daily, and I meditate daily, but I do it in different ways and at different times. Now, that's ok, and it's ok to pray and meditate whenever I get the chance. I don't need to stop doing that. But what's coming to me is that it would be helpful to have one set period of time each day to engage in reflection, prayer, and meditation. (This is not a new discovery folks).
So, what I am going to commit to, this one thing that I'm going to do to start down the road of becoming better organized, is to set aside a time each night that will be dedicated to quiet time with my Creator - prayer, meditation, and planning. Let's pick 10pm for starters (it's 10:14 right now, so I'm already late, but that's nothing new). The reason I'm picking night time is because my least productive time is when I wake up, and I happen to know, for myself, that how I go to bed heavily influences how I wake up. If I go to bed tired and pissed off, guess what? I wake up tired and pissed off. This might be why Jesus suggested not letting the sun go down on our anger - it makes for a crappy night's sleep, and when we wake up, we're still angry! Yesterday's problems today. Hmmph. Additionally, in the Hebrew tradition, the day actually starts at sunset, because, in the creation stories, the very first thing was darkness. And, if I start my day with prayer, meditation, planning, and 6-8 hours rest, it's bound to be a great day!
So there you have it. I'll start with that, and let you know how it goes.
I am grateful for the opportunity to think on paper, as it were - it's so much more helpful that swishing ideas around in my head.
Namaste,
Ken
And I'm not sure if it's going to be 'more organized' or 'less spontaneous'. You see, as noted in an earlier post, one of the trademarks of those experiencing alcoholism and/or addiction is that we have our operating system reversed. So-called 'normal' people make most of their decisions based on intellect over emotion. Alcoholics and addicts get to the point in our lives where our emotions run the show. The way I feel is my top priority. That's not a skillful way to operate in life, and it takes daily practice to get back to the understanding that if I take the right actions, eventually my emotions will follow suit, and I'll get them under control. I got very used to controlling the way I feel by dabbling in chemicals or in certain behaviors (eating, shopping, etc.) that alter my mood. This makes my life unmanageable, and to turn that around I need to begin to take skillful actions no matter what my feelings are saying. So, that's really a lot of what I do each day - practice acknowledging what I'm feeling, and then practice doing the next right thing anyway.
There's also a part of me - a big part, admittedly - that fears organization. There's a part of me that prefers chaos over order. (Note: people who have grown up experiencing abuse have a tendency to become addicted to the physical 'excitement' that abuse creates, and when the abuse is gone, can go through a withdrawal). There is something exciting about sleeping until 1 hour before work starts and seeing if I can make it on time. There is something exciting about jamming my schedule so tight that if something unexpected happens, I'm going to be late or miss a commitment. There is something exciting about wondering if someone is going to be pissed at me because I'm running late or missing a commitment. And there is something exciting about going to the store and seeing if my card will be accepted because I really don't know how much is in my account. Yes, I like living on the edge!
And this is one of the reasons that recovery from addiction is so much more that removing the addictive substance from my life. The drug is only partially responsible for creating the un-manageability in my life - the rest of the un-manageability is created by deeply ingrained thought processes, and, if I don't work on transforming my thought processes into something that works for me, I will return to using the substance.
I do not want to say that I am disorganized - I'm not. Saying 'I am disorganized' is untrue, it's a cop-out, and it's making me my own victim. I am organized. If I were disorganized, I'd be starving, needing a shower, wearing stinky clothes (if I were wearing clothes at all), with no place to live, and no job to go to. My life is organized well enough to live at the level at which I'm living now. But I desire to be healthier, more useful, more purposeful, more prosperous. In order to move in the direction of my desires, I need to increase my level of organization.
Now, if I were to write a list of all the ways in which I could be better organized, I would be overwhelmed and just not do it. There's too much stuff! All areas of my life could stand some improvement!
One of the areas of my life that seems to invite improvement is consistency. I know lots of good life practices. Tons. Practicing any of them consistently? Not so much. So perhaps I need to pick one or two things and start doing them consistently, and see what happens.
Here's where I'll admit something that is difficult for me to admit - I am not consistent with prayer and meditation. I pray daily, and I meditate daily, but I do it in different ways and at different times. Now, that's ok, and it's ok to pray and meditate whenever I get the chance. I don't need to stop doing that. But what's coming to me is that it would be helpful to have one set period of time each day to engage in reflection, prayer, and meditation. (This is not a new discovery folks).
So, what I am going to commit to, this one thing that I'm going to do to start down the road of becoming better organized, is to set aside a time each night that will be dedicated to quiet time with my Creator - prayer, meditation, and planning. Let's pick 10pm for starters (it's 10:14 right now, so I'm already late, but that's nothing new). The reason I'm picking night time is because my least productive time is when I wake up, and I happen to know, for myself, that how I go to bed heavily influences how I wake up. If I go to bed tired and pissed off, guess what? I wake up tired and pissed off. This might be why Jesus suggested not letting the sun go down on our anger - it makes for a crappy night's sleep, and when we wake up, we're still angry! Yesterday's problems today. Hmmph. Additionally, in the Hebrew tradition, the day actually starts at sunset, because, in the creation stories, the very first thing was darkness. And, if I start my day with prayer, meditation, planning, and 6-8 hours rest, it's bound to be a great day!
So there you have it. I'll start with that, and let you know how it goes.
I am grateful for the opportunity to think on paper, as it were - it's so much more helpful that swishing ideas around in my head.
Namaste,
Ken
Thursday, November 17, 2016
Am I Up to It?
This post was originally titled New Job, but it's not about my new job - it's about whether or not I'm up to it.
Ever since I began recovery 18 months ago, I have been endeavoring to embrace life, knowing that my basic problem has been a fear of life in general. I've spent a lot of years finding various methods of getting through this lifetime without engaging or risking too much. Some methods seem to work better than others, but, in the end, I haven't been able to bypass life. Or, at least, bypass it and be able to live with myself. So I suppose I'm destined to embrace the sucker.
The way that I have been learning to embrace life is to face and accept what comes my way, whether I like it or not. I'm not perfect at it - there are still a lot of things I like avoiding, but I avoid them less often and for less time.
It had gotten to the point where I had run out of dreams. I remember when I was younger, I used to have dreams of being this and doing that. The problem is that my doubts always seemed to grow bigger than my dreams.
The last dream I had was to be self-employed, and I actually did it. Some may say I failed at it; I say I didn't. It's more like the Wright brothers' first flight - they didn't get very far nor very high, but they flew. Same with me. And I might do it again sometime.
But after my supposed failure I relapsed, and when I came to, I was out of dreams. I was out of goals, and, as I've written numerous times, I couldn't live and I couldn't die. It's that 'couldn't die' part that got me to where I am today. I had to try something, so I took the suggestions of well-meaning people around me.
And I got led into situations and circumstances that were scary and outside of my comfort zone, but I kept going, with the belief that if it's been presented to me, it must be mine to to do, and, if so, I am supported by the Universe in doing whatever it is. And this is why I am working for LSS and NAMI-Waukesha - neither of these jobs did I ask for or apply for - I was asked to work for them. It appears that I have talents for listening to people and dispensing recovery information. There's more to it than that, but that's the basics.
Today I received an offer for full-time employment at NAMI, and I accepted. This job was not on my bucket list. It's not something I've aspired to do, or even formally trained for. It's just that I have a lot of experience in what works (and what doesn't work) in recovery, and I enjoy sharing that experience and any wisdom I've gained along the way. So basically I'm getting paid for having a mental health condition. It's good work, if you can get it.
But there's other things that go along with the job at NAMI and the job at LSS that I'm not so sure about. It's not all chatting with folks. There are administrative tasks, committees to sit on, projects to participate in, reading and learning to do, etc. Both jobs are much more than coming in and following instructions. Sometimes I even have to make my own instructions. All of that is scary to me. I'm not practiced at this self-directed type stuff. I've been known to be paralyzed by fear over "do I do A, or do I do B?"
So what keeps me going? Lots of things. Everything that I've embraced over the past 18 months has so far worked out really well, so I've got some success under my belt. In fact, today I do feel successful. So I have faith that if I continue on, I'll continue to experience more success (although that part of me that is waiting for the other shoe to drop is still alive - it's just quieter nowadays). As a result of my successes, I've been enjoying recovery more than I ever have before. And I know I must stay in recovery in order to do my jobs well. A big part of recovery, a huge part for me, is staying open and receptive to Spirit, and I recognize that anything good that comes out of me is God working through me. In and of myself, I'm just a depressed, suicidal drunk. When I open up and let my Higher Power in, the depressed, suicidal drunk is transformed into a useful human being. I do not know of a simpler way to put it.
So, a day at a time, with Spirit, and doing it with others, I would have to say, yes, I am up to it!
Namaste,
Ken
It had gotten to the point where I had run out of dreams. I remember when I was younger, I used to have dreams of being this and doing that. The problem is that my doubts always seemed to grow bigger than my dreams.
The last dream I had was to be self-employed, and I actually did it. Some may say I failed at it; I say I didn't. It's more like the Wright brothers' first flight - they didn't get very far nor very high, but they flew. Same with me. And I might do it again sometime.
But after my supposed failure I relapsed, and when I came to, I was out of dreams. I was out of goals, and, as I've written numerous times, I couldn't live and I couldn't die. It's that 'couldn't die' part that got me to where I am today. I had to try something, so I took the suggestions of well-meaning people around me.
And I got led into situations and circumstances that were scary and outside of my comfort zone, but I kept going, with the belief that if it's been presented to me, it must be mine to to do, and, if so, I am supported by the Universe in doing whatever it is. And this is why I am working for LSS and NAMI-Waukesha - neither of these jobs did I ask for or apply for - I was asked to work for them. It appears that I have talents for listening to people and dispensing recovery information. There's more to it than that, but that's the basics.
Today I received an offer for full-time employment at NAMI, and I accepted. This job was not on my bucket list. It's not something I've aspired to do, or even formally trained for. It's just that I have a lot of experience in what works (and what doesn't work) in recovery, and I enjoy sharing that experience and any wisdom I've gained along the way. So basically I'm getting paid for having a mental health condition. It's good work, if you can get it.
But there's other things that go along with the job at NAMI and the job at LSS that I'm not so sure about. It's not all chatting with folks. There are administrative tasks, committees to sit on, projects to participate in, reading and learning to do, etc. Both jobs are much more than coming in and following instructions. Sometimes I even have to make my own instructions. All of that is scary to me. I'm not practiced at this self-directed type stuff. I've been known to be paralyzed by fear over "do I do A, or do I do B?"
So what keeps me going? Lots of things. Everything that I've embraced over the past 18 months has so far worked out really well, so I've got some success under my belt. In fact, today I do feel successful. So I have faith that if I continue on, I'll continue to experience more success (although that part of me that is waiting for the other shoe to drop is still alive - it's just quieter nowadays). As a result of my successes, I've been enjoying recovery more than I ever have before. And I know I must stay in recovery in order to do my jobs well. A big part of recovery, a huge part for me, is staying open and receptive to Spirit, and I recognize that anything good that comes out of me is God working through me. In and of myself, I'm just a depressed, suicidal drunk. When I open up and let my Higher Power in, the depressed, suicidal drunk is transformed into a useful human being. I do not know of a simpler way to put it.
So, a day at a time, with Spirit, and doing it with others, I would have to say, yes, I am up to it!
Namaste,
Ken
Monday, November 7, 2016
Passing Away
I hate writing about this. I really do.
I found out Saturday that someone in our recovery community passed away Friday night, probably from an overdose. It's very sad. She was a young person with a child. So she was someone's mother, someone's daughter, someone's sister, someone's partner, and a lot of folks' friend.
So how does this happen? Why does this happen?
I've been around death since I was 2 years old. I started walking at one of my grandfather's funeral. When I was 7, I saw my aunt dying from stomach cancer. Throughout the years, I've been to the funerals of relatives and friends. I've missed some, too - a very good friend of mine from college passed away in 1988. He was 28 years old. So I know that physical death is a part of life.
The ones that bother me are the ones who pass young. A classmate who was stabbed to death by her boyfriend when she was 19 or 20. My friend who passed over the weekend. A friend from Boy Scouts who was one of the nicest guys you'd want to know passed in service to his country. There's more.
I don't get into the hows and whys too very much - it's not healthy. It's dabbling in that which is not mine to dabble in. Otherwise I start telling God who should stay and who should go. I've done that before. The whole thing is a great big mystery to me.
Why am I alive today? I've had several overdoses, two of which put me in comas. I've punished myself more than anyone else possibly could have. Yet I'm here today, living, breathing, thriving, while people much better than me [judgment] have passed on. There isn't any logic in it at all.
Spiritually I know that death is sort of like moving out of state - we only cease to exist in this particular physical realm. How many realms are out there, I don't know. If one is a Christian, then they know the words of Jesus, who mentioned to His disciples that His Father's house has many mansions. This indicates that there are many different 'places' for us to exist.
I read a recent statistic that said that people with a chronic mental condition (and addiction is a mental health condition) typically have a life span 25 years less than those without mental health conditions. That's a lot less!
But here's the real deal: Sometimes, maybe often, wonderful people who are a real asset to this world and who are much loved and admired die much too soon [judgment]. As an alcoholic, I can faithfully say that it would be my own inaccurate perception of myself that would cause me to die from my disease. In other words, I view myself, even today, much more harshly than anybody else on the planet. The shame and self-hatred that I carried within me caused me to go back to using alcohol and to other self-destructive behaviors often. One day, who knows when, I began to doubt my own thinking, and I began to look at how others seemed to perceive me. Eventually, because I found myself surrounded by people who looked at me much better than I looked at myself, I began to believe their perceptions more than my own. I began to behave as if my life has value, because obviously it does to those who support me. And that, I believe, is really the only reason that I am alive today - I was able to listen to someone else's thinking more than my own. Let me tell you that that is not an easy task. There is nothing in the world that I placed more value on than my own thinking.
So I understand how my friend went back to the thinking that caused her to die. And I'm sad. I'm sad that she could not see what a special and beautiful human being and child of God she was. I'm sad that she had people who were really close to her who now have an empty space inside of them.
And what can I do? What will I do? I can honor her memory by staying sober and staying in recovery. I can do what others have done for me - I will continue to encourage, support, and love those who live with addiction/alcoholism and other mental health conditions. I will not turn my back on others because it's too hard to see someone die from this - I will continue to develop my understanding that God is in all of us, and continue to develop my skills in helping others discover this Truth for themselves. And I will continue to live and thrive and love my life and myself just as it is and I am today, if only to show others that it is possible to live in recovery. We don't have to die from this disease.
It's the least I can do.
Namaste,
Ken
I found out Saturday that someone in our recovery community passed away Friday night, probably from an overdose. It's very sad. She was a young person with a child. So she was someone's mother, someone's daughter, someone's sister, someone's partner, and a lot of folks' friend.
So how does this happen? Why does this happen?
I've been around death since I was 2 years old. I started walking at one of my grandfather's funeral. When I was 7, I saw my aunt dying from stomach cancer. Throughout the years, I've been to the funerals of relatives and friends. I've missed some, too - a very good friend of mine from college passed away in 1988. He was 28 years old. So I know that physical death is a part of life.
The ones that bother me are the ones who pass young. A classmate who was stabbed to death by her boyfriend when she was 19 or 20. My friend who passed over the weekend. A friend from Boy Scouts who was one of the nicest guys you'd want to know passed in service to his country. There's more.
I don't get into the hows and whys too very much - it's not healthy. It's dabbling in that which is not mine to dabble in. Otherwise I start telling God who should stay and who should go. I've done that before. The whole thing is a great big mystery to me.
Why am I alive today? I've had several overdoses, two of which put me in comas. I've punished myself more than anyone else possibly could have. Yet I'm here today, living, breathing, thriving, while people much better than me [judgment] have passed on. There isn't any logic in it at all.
Spiritually I know that death is sort of like moving out of state - we only cease to exist in this particular physical realm. How many realms are out there, I don't know. If one is a Christian, then they know the words of Jesus, who mentioned to His disciples that His Father's house has many mansions. This indicates that there are many different 'places' for us to exist.
I read a recent statistic that said that people with a chronic mental condition (and addiction is a mental health condition) typically have a life span 25 years less than those without mental health conditions. That's a lot less!
But here's the real deal: Sometimes, maybe often, wonderful people who are a real asset to this world and who are much loved and admired die much too soon [judgment]. As an alcoholic, I can faithfully say that it would be my own inaccurate perception of myself that would cause me to die from my disease. In other words, I view myself, even today, much more harshly than anybody else on the planet. The shame and self-hatred that I carried within me caused me to go back to using alcohol and to other self-destructive behaviors often. One day, who knows when, I began to doubt my own thinking, and I began to look at how others seemed to perceive me. Eventually, because I found myself surrounded by people who looked at me much better than I looked at myself, I began to believe their perceptions more than my own. I began to behave as if my life has value, because obviously it does to those who support me. And that, I believe, is really the only reason that I am alive today - I was able to listen to someone else's thinking more than my own. Let me tell you that that is not an easy task. There is nothing in the world that I placed more value on than my own thinking.
So I understand how my friend went back to the thinking that caused her to die. And I'm sad. I'm sad that she could not see what a special and beautiful human being and child of God she was. I'm sad that she had people who were really close to her who now have an empty space inside of them.
And what can I do? What will I do? I can honor her memory by staying sober and staying in recovery. I can do what others have done for me - I will continue to encourage, support, and love those who live with addiction/alcoholism and other mental health conditions. I will not turn my back on others because it's too hard to see someone die from this - I will continue to develop my understanding that God is in all of us, and continue to develop my skills in helping others discover this Truth for themselves. And I will continue to live and thrive and love my life and myself just as it is and I am today, if only to show others that it is possible to live in recovery. We don't have to die from this disease.
It's the least I can do.
Namaste,
Ken
Wednesday, October 26, 2016
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
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
Wednesday, October 19, 2016
Yes, I Can!
As I've mentioned in previous posts, my life-long ambition had been to avoid anything that made me uncomfortable. This makes it difficult impossible to thrive, because it is the uncomfortable stuff that helps me grow. It's the meeting new people, learning new things, moving to new places, recovering from illnesses, advancing at work, etc., that gives me the experiences I need to develop fully as a human being.
I could make a list of all the things in life I've avoided that I see now would have benefited me if I had embraced them. I'm not going to do that here - it would be way too long. But, up until now, I spent most of my time and energy trying to protect myself from life (while trying to look like I was living life). I realize today that that isn't the purpose of human living at all - the purpose is to see how much we can expand and grow into the image and likeness of our Creator. I don't know about your Creator, but my Creator is omniscient and omnipotent - It knows all and has all power. Additionally, my Creator loves me because...It created me! (warts and all) So, when I endeavor to protect myself from people, ideas, activities, vocations, etc., that threaten me, I'm really wasting my time, because my Creator has my back. I do not need to protect myself - God's got me covered.
So how does this fit in with 'Yes, I Can'?
I've had lots of jobs. All of my jobs in the 21st century have helped me build character - in other words, all of my jobs, one way or another, have shown me things about me that can be improved upon.
I have 3 jobs now, and all of them ask me to stretch beyond my comfort zone in different ways. I'm very blessed! Here are two examples of being asked to do things that I didn't think I could do, and therefore really didn't want to, but I'm doing them anyway:
1. At one job, I was asked to be a mentor. At this particular job, I didn't really want to, because I really didn't think I did that good of a job there in the first place. (This idea I've found to be incorrect). Additionally, even if I could mentor new employees, I probably would not be the best mentor there. Also, being a mentor makes me uncomfortable because I have to deal one-on-one with people I don't know well, and they might not like me.
There are so many thinking errors in the above paragraph that come from long-held beliefs that need to be replaced with up-to-date, accurate beliefs about me and my abilities. First, in anything I undertake, absolutely the one and only thing I can be best at is being me. Everything else, there's going to be some people more skilled and talented than I am, and some people less skilled and talented. For instance, I like to write (I should hope so!), but I know of many writers that write a lot better than I do. I don't have to be the best to be good enough. Next, I used to be a pass/fail kind of guy. In other words, if I make a mistake in the process of doing whatever I'm doing, I've failed at what I'm doing. This belief, if acted upon 100%, would severely limit my ability to live. I'm a human being, therefore I make mistakes. Get over it. Instead of using the mistakes to beat myself up, use each mistake as an opportunity to improve. Last, whether or not somebody likes me has absolutely no bearing on who I am or on my worth as a human being. I think I'll probably spend the rest of my life learning that one.
2. At another job, I was asked to do some organizing. Oh my! I don't consider myself the most organized being on the planet. I really consider myself the least organized being on the planet. The actual Truth is probably somewhere in between those two thoughts. When I was asked to undertake this task, my first thought was, "Oh no, I can't organize anything!" But I have learned, especially over the past year, that where there is a will, there really is a way, and that if something is placed in front of me to do, through My Creator, I can do it. All things are possible. And so I'm doing it. Not very quickly, because it's a project and this is a part time job, but I'm doing it. Additionally, organization is one of those things that is dynamic, not static, so there's always room for improvement. Even if I did it perfectly today, tomorrow the needs of the organization might change, and I'll need to improve what I did yesterday.
By the way, my desire to be liked and approved of has helped me in recovery. It would be really hard for me to climb back into my shell - I feel that I would disappoint a lot of people around me. One day I'll be able to do the right thing whether or not I have support, but that's a post for the future.
Anyway, my point is this: armed with the knowledge that I still possess a fear-based belief system and that my first inclination toward most anything is to run and hide, I can take each opportunity that comes my way as an opportunity to cut another hole in that old belief and to develop the new belief of "Yes, I can!" There are tons of opportunities each day, from taking the telephone call I don't want to take, to being assertive and letting someone know what I need, to fearlessly expanding my passions, like speaking, writing, and music. Ooh boy, that's a tall order! But I am reminded of what one of my counselors, who is now a Unity minister, asked me: "How big is your Higher Power?" Fortunately for me today, my Higher Power is definitely not me; I don't know how big It is, but it is definitely bigger than me.
So I'm going to end with this quote by Marianne Williamson, from her book, A Return to Love: Reflections on the Principles of "A Course in Miracles":
"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?' Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”
Namaste,
Ken
I could make a list of all the things in life I've avoided that I see now would have benefited me if I had embraced them. I'm not going to do that here - it would be way too long. But, up until now, I spent most of my time and energy trying to protect myself from life (while trying to look like I was living life). I realize today that that isn't the purpose of human living at all - the purpose is to see how much we can expand and grow into the image and likeness of our Creator. I don't know about your Creator, but my Creator is omniscient and omnipotent - It knows all and has all power. Additionally, my Creator loves me because...It created me! (warts and all) So, when I endeavor to protect myself from people, ideas, activities, vocations, etc., that threaten me, I'm really wasting my time, because my Creator has my back. I do not need to protect myself - God's got me covered.
So how does this fit in with 'Yes, I Can'?
I've had lots of jobs. All of my jobs in the 21st century have helped me build character - in other words, all of my jobs, one way or another, have shown me things about me that can be improved upon.
I have 3 jobs now, and all of them ask me to stretch beyond my comfort zone in different ways. I'm very blessed! Here are two examples of being asked to do things that I didn't think I could do, and therefore really didn't want to, but I'm doing them anyway:
1. At one job, I was asked to be a mentor. At this particular job, I didn't really want to, because I really didn't think I did that good of a job there in the first place. (This idea I've found to be incorrect). Additionally, even if I could mentor new employees, I probably would not be the best mentor there. Also, being a mentor makes me uncomfortable because I have to deal one-on-one with people I don't know well, and they might not like me.
There are so many thinking errors in the above paragraph that come from long-held beliefs that need to be replaced with up-to-date, accurate beliefs about me and my abilities. First, in anything I undertake, absolutely the one and only thing I can be best at is being me. Everything else, there's going to be some people more skilled and talented than I am, and some people less skilled and talented. For instance, I like to write (I should hope so!), but I know of many writers that write a lot better than I do. I don't have to be the best to be good enough. Next, I used to be a pass/fail kind of guy. In other words, if I make a mistake in the process of doing whatever I'm doing, I've failed at what I'm doing. This belief, if acted upon 100%, would severely limit my ability to live. I'm a human being, therefore I make mistakes. Get over it. Instead of using the mistakes to beat myself up, use each mistake as an opportunity to improve. Last, whether or not somebody likes me has absolutely no bearing on who I am or on my worth as a human being. I think I'll probably spend the rest of my life learning that one.
2. At another job, I was asked to do some organizing. Oh my! I don't consider myself the most organized being on the planet. I really consider myself the least organized being on the planet. The actual Truth is probably somewhere in between those two thoughts. When I was asked to undertake this task, my first thought was, "Oh no, I can't organize anything!" But I have learned, especially over the past year, that where there is a will, there really is a way, and that if something is placed in front of me to do, through My Creator, I can do it. All things are possible. And so I'm doing it. Not very quickly, because it's a project and this is a part time job, but I'm doing it. Additionally, organization is one of those things that is dynamic, not static, so there's always room for improvement. Even if I did it perfectly today, tomorrow the needs of the organization might change, and I'll need to improve what I did yesterday.
By the way, my desire to be liked and approved of has helped me in recovery. It would be really hard for me to climb back into my shell - I feel that I would disappoint a lot of people around me. One day I'll be able to do the right thing whether or not I have support, but that's a post for the future.
Anyway, my point is this: armed with the knowledge that I still possess a fear-based belief system and that my first inclination toward most anything is to run and hide, I can take each opportunity that comes my way as an opportunity to cut another hole in that old belief and to develop the new belief of "Yes, I can!" There are tons of opportunities each day, from taking the telephone call I don't want to take, to being assertive and letting someone know what I need, to fearlessly expanding my passions, like speaking, writing, and music. Ooh boy, that's a tall order! But I am reminded of what one of my counselors, who is now a Unity minister, asked me: "How big is your Higher Power?" Fortunately for me today, my Higher Power is definitely not me; I don't know how big It is, but it is definitely bigger than me.
So I'm going to end with this quote by Marianne Williamson, from her book, A Return to Love: Reflections on the Principles of "A Course in Miracles":
"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?' Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”
Namaste,
Ken
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