I may have written about this before. I've been here before, sort of, so it's not necessarily new, but it still is amazing to me.
Twenty-one months or so ago, I gave up. I quit. I surrendered. My diseases had won - I was unable to function at any useful level. I was sick in body, mind, and spirit, and I was an abject failure - bankrupt in every sense of the word. So I agreed to do what was suggested to me. Why not? I had absolutely nothing left to lose.
In my previous attempts at recovery, and there have been many, I did what was suggested, if I felt it was a good idea, if it was in line with my thinking, and if it was convenient and did not impinge too much on my sense of self. Over the years, because of the negative consequences of my disorders, I became more and more willing to do more and more to recover. What I never, ever gave up before was my control over my life. Yes, I had consultants, and I even had a higher power that I consulted from time to time, but, in the end, I made choices based on what I felt was best for me, and, for me back then, the best I could do was protect myself. Above all else, my view of who I was and what I was about, no matter how flawed I was, must be protected, and any idea that threatened that protection was discarded.
When I began what I now call Total Recovery, I did not care anymore. I didn't care about living. I felt that I would never be able to live on my own, and I felt I would never be able to hold a job or do anything productive. I was so empty that I couldn't even commit a crime that would have landed me in prison, which would have been a good place for someone like me. I had nothing left inside. And, in order for me to recover, that's exactly where I needed to be.
"Freedom's just another word for nothin' left to lose." (Janis Joplin). I adopted an attitude of non-resistance, which I wrote about in an earlier post. I was able to release judgment about my life and what was happening to me. I was homeless, jobless, in IOP (intensive outpatient treatment), and I neither liked nor disliked any of it. It just was. From that non-resistance grew acceptance, and I felt a glimmer of hope - life was happening, and I was still ok. Lots of other things began to happen, which I won't detail right now. The point is that my life was moving in a direction, and I wasn't resisting it at all.
Soon I found myself experiencing things that I had not experienced before in my life. Four months into my recovery, I became self-supporting and began to learn how to be responsible for my life. This was something that was new to me, and potentially scary. But I continued to allow myself to be led.
And that's what I mean by being out on a limb. I'm experiencing things in my life that I've never experienced before, at least not in the way that I'm experiencing them. I'm embracing life, instead of trying to escape life. I feel more whole and authentic than I've ever felt before, but I keep expanding and moving forward. I'm finding out who I am.
And the point, for me, of being out on a limb is two-fold: I must rely upon my Higher Power, because I'm in uncharted territory; additionally, the past 21 months of Total Recovery give me faith and courage to keep going in the direction that I'm headed.
I've still got things to let go of - old thought patterns, beliefs, and habits which no longer serve me. But I look at it differently today - I look at it as an adventure. And I've still got nothin' left to lose.
Namaste,
Ken
Saturday, March 4, 2017
Thursday, February 16, 2017
Family (Affected Loved Ones)
Now that I work entirely in the field of mental health and addiction recovery, I find that I come into contact with the families and loved ones of those affected by mental health conditions/addictions as much, if not more, as the people experiencing the conditions themselves. I remember reading or hearing some statistic that a person's active alcoholism adversely affects 5 people in the alcoholic's life. So, if we just take a guess about that, we could see that a person who is experiencing active alcoholism might be affecting their parents, their children, their employer, their spouse or partner, and perhaps a close friend. If we expand our imagination a little further, we might see how the alcoholic, especially toward the end of their alcoholic journey, might affect others, such as health care professionals, emergency responders, and law enforcement personnel. And I write about alcoholism because it is that with which I'm most familiar. In actuality, any mental health condition can have a major impact not only on the person experiencing it first-hand, but on others in that person's life.
The point is that mental health conditions, including alcoholism and addiction, make everyone sick to some point. Who can watch someone we care for continue to behave in self-destructive ways and not be affected by that behavior ourselves? Even if there's a tangible reason for the behavior, such as a soldier or emergency responder experiencing PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder), it still hurts to see someone going through that. And very often, what hurts more is that the person experiencing the mental health condition is not always aware that their behavior hurts others.
I can share from my own experience that I was under the delusion that my maladaptive behavior affected only me. My conditions, alcoholism and major depressive order, caused me to isolate and be unconscious much of the time. Additionally, since I no longer cared about me, it was impossible for me to care about others in any real way. My experience is that alcoholism and depression are both very self-centered, self-consuming conditions. It seemed impossible to think of anything but my own misery and how to end it. (Fortunately, in recovery, I have regained the ability to care about others in my life. In fact, the thought that a relapse on my part would be hurtful to some in my life is part of what keeps me in recovery).
Over the past two years, and especially the past year, I have had a lot of contact with family members and friends of those experiencing mental health conditions. When asked for advice, my advice is always, "Save yourself first!" Of course, I usually say it in a much nicer way, but that's the general theme.
The issue that often comes up when someone hears this is the thought that, "Hey, I'm not the sick one. I haven't spent the last two weeks unable to get out of bed, or I don't use drugs/alcohol, or I still make it to work every day. They're the one with the problem! Tell me how to fix them!" Here's the real deal without mincing any words - Nobody can fix anybody but themselves. This is especially hard to grasp if the loved one in question is your child. "After all," you cry, "didn't I fix their scrapes when they fell growing up? Didn't I hold them when their tummy hurt and make it all better? Didn't I dry their tears when they were sad?" Yes, yes you did, and perhaps this is one of the drawbacks of being human - the person with whom we are so intimately connected is still an individual who has his/her own experiences to go through in their lifetime. After a certain time, no matter how much we might want to, we cannot control the events in another person's life.
"Ok, fine, maybe I can buy that. Their issues are their issues. Why do I need to save myself? I don't have their issues." And this may be true. However, any time we spend time, energy, and emotion on something we can't change or control, we make ourselves a little bit sick. Resistance or denial to what is makes anybody sick to some extent. The reason for this is that the loved one most often sees the effects of the condition, but rarely can see the cause. And, because mental health conditions tend to wipe out self-awareness, the person suffering may be unable to see the cause.
An example. Many, many people think alcoholics have drinking problems. It is well known that to a certain percentage of the population, alcohol is poison - they don't react well. But to this person, alcohol is not the problem, alcohol is the solution. If alcoholism were purely a physical allergy, one would treat it like one treats allergies to say, peanuts. Stay away from peanuts! And that's what most folks think about alcoholism/addiction - the person only gets sick or in trouble when they use the substance, so there'd be no more sickness/trouble if they wouldn't use the substance.
Correct - kind of. But alcoholism/addiction is not simply a physical allergy to a substance. The nature of addiction is that something in the brain is either organically different or has changed over time, making the person who has the addiction unable to act in their best interest concerning substance use. There is something going on in the mind of the alcoholic/addict that feels bad, and the brain tells the person that there is a substance that will fix it. This urge can be so overpowering to the person experiencing it that s/he will succumb to it even when the expected consequence of using is death.
Sometimes the loved one thinks they did something to cause the addiction or the mental health condition. This is not true at all. Mental health conditions are brain disorders. They often have environmental triggers; however, a person must be predisposed to the disorder in order to get it. Take two soldiers who fought in the same battle and survived. One goes on to fight some more, the other becomes incapacitated by PTSD. Is the one who survived both physically and mentally stronger or better than the other? Was he raised better? No. The one who survived mentally does not have the predisposition to PTSD. The one who did not survive does. The trauma was just the precipitating event - it brought to light what was already happening in the brain.
So what's a family member or loved one to do? Basically, it is this:
1. get an understanding (education) what your loved one is really going through;
2. accept that you cannot change or cure them yourself;
3. accept that your living in this situation has not been healthy for you;
4. find out how to change your self so that you can remain sane and gain some peace of mind while fostering an environment that will invite the person with the condition to seek help. In other words, learn how to be supportive, both to yourself and the other person.
And how can one do this? These are the resources I know of that can be helpful in these situations (if you are reading this but aren't local to my area, seek out similar organizations in your locale):*
Al-Anon Family Groups (family/loved ones of alcoholics)
NAMI Basics (education)
NAMI Family to Family (education)
NAMI Support Groups
Again, the best advice for a loved one of someone with a mental health or substance abuse condition is to become the healthiest and most educated you can be so that you can be of support without sacrificing your own mental/emotional/physical health.
Namaste,
Ken
*Disclaimer: Even though I work for NAMI, I write this for myself. Additionally, there is more support out there than what I've got listed, but the above links will get you on the road.
The point is that mental health conditions, including alcoholism and addiction, make everyone sick to some point. Who can watch someone we care for continue to behave in self-destructive ways and not be affected by that behavior ourselves? Even if there's a tangible reason for the behavior, such as a soldier or emergency responder experiencing PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder), it still hurts to see someone going through that. And very often, what hurts more is that the person experiencing the mental health condition is not always aware that their behavior hurts others.
I can share from my own experience that I was under the delusion that my maladaptive behavior affected only me. My conditions, alcoholism and major depressive order, caused me to isolate and be unconscious much of the time. Additionally, since I no longer cared about me, it was impossible for me to care about others in any real way. My experience is that alcoholism and depression are both very self-centered, self-consuming conditions. It seemed impossible to think of anything but my own misery and how to end it. (Fortunately, in recovery, I have regained the ability to care about others in my life. In fact, the thought that a relapse on my part would be hurtful to some in my life is part of what keeps me in recovery).
Over the past two years, and especially the past year, I have had a lot of contact with family members and friends of those experiencing mental health conditions. When asked for advice, my advice is always, "Save yourself first!" Of course, I usually say it in a much nicer way, but that's the general theme.
The issue that often comes up when someone hears this is the thought that, "Hey, I'm not the sick one. I haven't spent the last two weeks unable to get out of bed, or I don't use drugs/alcohol, or I still make it to work every day. They're the one with the problem! Tell me how to fix them!" Here's the real deal without mincing any words - Nobody can fix anybody but themselves. This is especially hard to grasp if the loved one in question is your child. "After all," you cry, "didn't I fix their scrapes when they fell growing up? Didn't I hold them when their tummy hurt and make it all better? Didn't I dry their tears when they were sad?" Yes, yes you did, and perhaps this is one of the drawbacks of being human - the person with whom we are so intimately connected is still an individual who has his/her own experiences to go through in their lifetime. After a certain time, no matter how much we might want to, we cannot control the events in another person's life.
"Ok, fine, maybe I can buy that. Their issues are their issues. Why do I need to save myself? I don't have their issues." And this may be true. However, any time we spend time, energy, and emotion on something we can't change or control, we make ourselves a little bit sick. Resistance or denial to what is makes anybody sick to some extent. The reason for this is that the loved one most often sees the effects of the condition, but rarely can see the cause. And, because mental health conditions tend to wipe out self-awareness, the person suffering may be unable to see the cause.
An example. Many, many people think alcoholics have drinking problems. It is well known that to a certain percentage of the population, alcohol is poison - they don't react well. But to this person, alcohol is not the problem, alcohol is the solution. If alcoholism were purely a physical allergy, one would treat it like one treats allergies to say, peanuts. Stay away from peanuts! And that's what most folks think about alcoholism/addiction - the person only gets sick or in trouble when they use the substance, so there'd be no more sickness/trouble if they wouldn't use the substance.
Correct - kind of. But alcoholism/addiction is not simply a physical allergy to a substance. The nature of addiction is that something in the brain is either organically different or has changed over time, making the person who has the addiction unable to act in their best interest concerning substance use. There is something going on in the mind of the alcoholic/addict that feels bad, and the brain tells the person that there is a substance that will fix it. This urge can be so overpowering to the person experiencing it that s/he will succumb to it even when the expected consequence of using is death.
Sometimes the loved one thinks they did something to cause the addiction or the mental health condition. This is not true at all. Mental health conditions are brain disorders. They often have environmental triggers; however, a person must be predisposed to the disorder in order to get it. Take two soldiers who fought in the same battle and survived. One goes on to fight some more, the other becomes incapacitated by PTSD. Is the one who survived both physically and mentally stronger or better than the other? Was he raised better? No. The one who survived mentally does not have the predisposition to PTSD. The one who did not survive does. The trauma was just the precipitating event - it brought to light what was already happening in the brain.
So what's a family member or loved one to do? Basically, it is this:
1. get an understanding (education) what your loved one is really going through;
2. accept that you cannot change or cure them yourself;
3. accept that your living in this situation has not been healthy for you;
4. find out how to change your self so that you can remain sane and gain some peace of mind while fostering an environment that will invite the person with the condition to seek help. In other words, learn how to be supportive, both to yourself and the other person.
And how can one do this? These are the resources I know of that can be helpful in these situations (if you are reading this but aren't local to my area, seek out similar organizations in your locale):*
Al-Anon Family Groups (family/loved ones of alcoholics)
NAMI Basics (education)
NAMI Family to Family (education)
NAMI Support Groups
Again, the best advice for a loved one of someone with a mental health or substance abuse condition is to become the healthiest and most educated you can be so that you can be of support without sacrificing your own mental/emotional/physical health.
Namaste,
Ken
*Disclaimer: Even though I work for NAMI, I write this for myself. Additionally, there is more support out there than what I've got listed, but the above links will get you on the road.
Friday, February 3, 2017
True Poverty
When I began working for NAMI-Waukesha, I was asked to be on the board of the Housing Action Coalition for Waukesha County. The by-laws of the board require that one of the members be someone who is currently experiencing homelessness or has recently experienced homelessness. I've experienced homelessness a few times in my life, the most recent being May - September 2015, right here in Waukesha. Thankfully, as I progress in my recovery, I move further away from homelessness. I'm not sure exactly what my role is on the HAC other than to add my perspective. Because of this, I was introduced to the CAC, the Community Action Coalition, which deals specifically with poverty. I'm not sure (and perhaps I should be) what the actual government definition of poverty is, but I believe it has to do with a certain level of income, underemployment, lack of adequate housing, or inability to survive without public assistance.
I no longer meet the government definition of poor. However, that doesn't mean that I'm not living in poverty.
Many years ago, because both my parents worked, I was in day-care (this is before day care was commonplace). The very kind Catholic lady that took care of me and some other children also helped out the sick and the poor. One of the ladies she helped was morbidly obese, but my caretaker said she was suffering from malnutrition. I asked how that was, and was told that she ate nothing but potato chips, and one can't get all the nutrition they need from potato chips. I know, I've tried!
So, is true poverty lack? Lack of money, lack of decent housing, nutrition, clothing, etc? Or are those things simply evidence of true poverty?
This is today what I believe poverty is - it is the idea that what I need today can't be got by me. True poverty is a state of consciousness. I'm going to give one more anecdote, and then list the elements of true poverty.
It is my understanding that there is a person living in the 'richest' suburb of Milwaukee who has a fear every day of becoming homeless. I can kind of relate - I live in some relatively low-rent housing (it's a nice place, though), so it's easy for me to maintain my housing status. I would imagine that if I 'owned' a 1/2 million or million-dollar home, that I might be a little more worried about making the monthly mortgage. But what does one really have if their consciousness surrounding property ownership causes only fear?
So here is my definition of True Poverty:
Rarely, if ever, feeling I have enough and am enough. The belief that if someone takes away my property, or if I lose it through some catastrophe, my life will be over. A feeling of disconnect with and distrust of those around me. The belief that there is always a 'them', and I always need to be on my guard. The belief that I always have to watch my back, or I'll get screwed. The belief that I alone am the source of all I am or all I have, or the belief that my good comes from any human made, temporary thing, including a job, government, or religion. The belief that my bank account and investment portfolio is an accurate measure of my true worth. The constant urge to always acquire more - that nagging emptiness inside that leads me to look for food, sex, money, goods, education, social status, and approval. It's the feeling that I am lacking in any way, no matter how much or little I have materially, what my job is, or who is or isn't my mate.
My definition of Prosperity is a lot less complicated: I know that the Universe (God, Source, the Lord, HP) is my Creator and therefore I am connected. I am whole. I am safe, I am loved, I am protected. I am provided all I need today physically, emotionally, spiritually, and my task is to open my eyes more and more each day to this reality. My other task is to give of myself as much as I possibly can to make room inside of me for more. Everything, absolutely everything in my life is an outpicturing of my inner life; it is the effect, not the cause. So when I feel lack in any area, I must turn within if I want lasting satisfaction.
To put it really simply, the first definition I gave is called fear, the second called Love. Today I choose to live life in Love.
Namaste,
Ken
I no longer meet the government definition of poor. However, that doesn't mean that I'm not living in poverty.
Many years ago, because both my parents worked, I was in day-care (this is before day care was commonplace). The very kind Catholic lady that took care of me and some other children also helped out the sick and the poor. One of the ladies she helped was morbidly obese, but my caretaker said she was suffering from malnutrition. I asked how that was, and was told that she ate nothing but potato chips, and one can't get all the nutrition they need from potato chips. I know, I've tried!
So, is true poverty lack? Lack of money, lack of decent housing, nutrition, clothing, etc? Or are those things simply evidence of true poverty?
This is today what I believe poverty is - it is the idea that what I need today can't be got by me. True poverty is a state of consciousness. I'm going to give one more anecdote, and then list the elements of true poverty.
It is my understanding that there is a person living in the 'richest' suburb of Milwaukee who has a fear every day of becoming homeless. I can kind of relate - I live in some relatively low-rent housing (it's a nice place, though), so it's easy for me to maintain my housing status. I would imagine that if I 'owned' a 1/2 million or million-dollar home, that I might be a little more worried about making the monthly mortgage. But what does one really have if their consciousness surrounding property ownership causes only fear?
So here is my definition of True Poverty:
Rarely, if ever, feeling I have enough and am enough. The belief that if someone takes away my property, or if I lose it through some catastrophe, my life will be over. A feeling of disconnect with and distrust of those around me. The belief that there is always a 'them', and I always need to be on my guard. The belief that I always have to watch my back, or I'll get screwed. The belief that I alone am the source of all I am or all I have, or the belief that my good comes from any human made, temporary thing, including a job, government, or religion. The belief that my bank account and investment portfolio is an accurate measure of my true worth. The constant urge to always acquire more - that nagging emptiness inside that leads me to look for food, sex, money, goods, education, social status, and approval. It's the feeling that I am lacking in any way, no matter how much or little I have materially, what my job is, or who is or isn't my mate.
My definition of Prosperity is a lot less complicated: I know that the Universe (God, Source, the Lord, HP) is my Creator and therefore I am connected. I am whole. I am safe, I am loved, I am protected. I am provided all I need today physically, emotionally, spiritually, and my task is to open my eyes more and more each day to this reality. My other task is to give of myself as much as I possibly can to make room inside of me for more. Everything, absolutely everything in my life is an outpicturing of my inner life; it is the effect, not the cause. So when I feel lack in any area, I must turn within if I want lasting satisfaction.
To put it really simply, the first definition I gave is called fear, the second called Love. Today I choose to live life in Love.
Namaste,
Ken
Thursday, February 2, 2017
Chaos Withdrawal
I have been going through something the past couple of months where I just don't feel right. Lately, it has manifested itself in a slight recurrence of depression symptoms - wanting to sleep, sleep, sleep, and dreading the future instead of looking forward to it. Fortunately, today I can look at my lack of enthusiasm and my lack of desire to become engaged with life as a symptom that something's not quite right rather than the way I used to look at those feelings - I used to feel like those feeling were the truth about me - that I was lazy and disinterested in life.
I think I know what part of it is - I recently changed my vocational activities. Previously, I had one full-time job at an inbound call center in Brookfield, and two part-time jobs in Waukesha. In January I released the call center job, and one of my other jobs became full-time. My call center job had hours all over the place, and I was always busy to some degree. Additionally, there were performance parameters at the call center job, and I had specific things to do with specific ways to do them.
My new work schedule is pretty much 8:30 - 4:30 M-F, and then 8-4 Saturday and Sunday for my part-time job. Additionally, I have a lot more time on my hands, as the commute to either job is under 30 minutes each way. Way under, actually. That's pretty boring, very stable, not much to remember.
I recently (yesterday) had a performance review at one of my jobs. It was excellent! I'm doing very well! Now if I can only convince myself! Neither of my current jobs have as many performance parameters as my old full-time job did. Certainly there are things at both jobs that I must do, but, for the most part, what I do each day and how I do it is largely determined by me, so long as it falls within my job descriptions and the policies and procedures of each of my employers. Other than the occasional emergency, there just isn't a lot of stress at either of my jobs. At my old full-time job, each day was stressful, but it was stress like exercise - like loading boxes onto a truck is stressful. When you're done for the day, you're done for the day.
So, that's great - I have plenty of stress-free work where I'm allowed to do stuff I enjoy and am good at. Great news! Unless I'm addicted to the cortisol created by daily stress - then it means I have to get used to a whole new way of life, and it might even (will be) uncomfortable.
"At the root of the addiction...is a reluctance to deal with ourselves on a deeper, more personal level. Cramming every moment of our lives with work, appointments and tasks means we don’t have to think about larger issues. And as it turns out, people will do almost anything to avoid themselves." Rachel Nuwer, from the article I linked to.
So is that why my inner voice has been nudging me to meditate more, to exercise more, to make better use of my free time? Is that why my home is still disorganized, tho' I've lived there 2 months already? I may dream of a serenely creative life, but what does that really look like? I've never lived one of those before!
It's that big ugly word, fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of success, fear of responsibility. And all I know to overcome fear skillfully, is to consciously face it head on. To simply say, 'Damn the torpedos, full steam ahead!' and to let the chips fall where they may.
Pain is an indicator that something needs to change. My indicators usually come through psychic pain. I don't like pain, and chemicals no longer work to alleviate my pain (except those produced by exercise, which is a good thing, I think), so I am left with changing whatever needs to be changed so I can live pain free (one of the reasons that I don't take a lot of credit for 'how far' I've come - you'd get pretty far, too, if you had a big grizzly bear named Pain on your ass!).
Mentally, I have to wrap my thoughts around, "I am doing a good job. I am exactly where I'm supposed to be, doing what I'm supposed to be doing." The only one complaining about my performance is me.
So, as usual, it's all good - I simply have to accept it.
That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
Namaste,
Ken
I think I know what part of it is - I recently changed my vocational activities. Previously, I had one full-time job at an inbound call center in Brookfield, and two part-time jobs in Waukesha. In January I released the call center job, and one of my other jobs became full-time. My call center job had hours all over the place, and I was always busy to some degree. Additionally, there were performance parameters at the call center job, and I had specific things to do with specific ways to do them.
My new work schedule is pretty much 8:30 - 4:30 M-F, and then 8-4 Saturday and Sunday for my part-time job. Additionally, I have a lot more time on my hands, as the commute to either job is under 30 minutes each way. Way under, actually. That's pretty boring, very stable, not much to remember.
I recently (yesterday) had a performance review at one of my jobs. It was excellent! I'm doing very well! Now if I can only convince myself! Neither of my current jobs have as many performance parameters as my old full-time job did. Certainly there are things at both jobs that I must do, but, for the most part, what I do each day and how I do it is largely determined by me, so long as it falls within my job descriptions and the policies and procedures of each of my employers. Other than the occasional emergency, there just isn't a lot of stress at either of my jobs. At my old full-time job, each day was stressful, but it was stress like exercise - like loading boxes onto a truck is stressful. When you're done for the day, you're done for the day.
So, that's great - I have plenty of stress-free work where I'm allowed to do stuff I enjoy and am good at. Great news! Unless I'm addicted to the cortisol created by daily stress - then it means I have to get used to a whole new way of life, and it might even (will be) uncomfortable.
"At the root of the addiction...is a reluctance to deal with ourselves on a deeper, more personal level. Cramming every moment of our lives with work, appointments and tasks means we don’t have to think about larger issues. And as it turns out, people will do almost anything to avoid themselves." Rachel Nuwer, from the article I linked to.
So is that why my inner voice has been nudging me to meditate more, to exercise more, to make better use of my free time? Is that why my home is still disorganized, tho' I've lived there 2 months already? I may dream of a serenely creative life, but what does that really look like? I've never lived one of those before!
It's that big ugly word, fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of success, fear of responsibility. And all I know to overcome fear skillfully, is to consciously face it head on. To simply say, 'Damn the torpedos, full steam ahead!' and to let the chips fall where they may.
Pain is an indicator that something needs to change. My indicators usually come through psychic pain. I don't like pain, and chemicals no longer work to alleviate my pain (except those produced by exercise, which is a good thing, I think), so I am left with changing whatever needs to be changed so I can live pain free (one of the reasons that I don't take a lot of credit for 'how far' I've come - you'd get pretty far, too, if you had a big grizzly bear named Pain on your ass!).
Mentally, I have to wrap my thoughts around, "I am doing a good job. I am exactly where I'm supposed to be, doing what I'm supposed to be doing." The only one complaining about my performance is me.
So, as usual, it's all good - I simply have to accept it.
That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
Namaste,
Ken
Sunday, January 29, 2017
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 Idon'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
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,
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
Namaste,
Ken
Saturday, December 10, 2016
Full Circle
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
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
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
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