Sharing stories

I love stories.  I love to tell stories, love to hear stories and love to remember stories.  My dad used to have us stand on the bricks of the fireplace and tell an account of our day.  He made a rule that if we made any pregnant pauses or said “umm”, we had to start over from the very beginning.  I always started the same way, “I woke up at X:XXam, and umm…”  Buzz!  “I woke up at X:XXam, got out of bed, went to the bathroom, went back to change my clothes, and umm…”  Buzz!  I remember making such an effort to get at least one step further every time before I had to restart. I normally began laughing or was distracted by comments being made from the peanut gallery that I’m really not all that sure I ever finished recounting a day.  I also feel like we did this exercise a lot but maybe it was only a few times.  I just remember it really clearly because it was such a great challenge.  One summer we all had to earn $100 in spending money to take on a trip to Hawaii.  My sister did so and then spent very little of that $100 while we were on vacation.  My dad had her stand on the bricks to tell us why she didn’t spend her money when my brother and I had.  While I don’t remember a word she said, I remember laughing hysterically watching her up there. 

In my active alcoholism and addictions my daily goal was to just get ‘there’, meaning anywhere but where I was.  The strange thing about it though, was that once I was ‘there’, the goal remained the same… get me anywhere but here.  So the cycle went.  This cycle was the beginning of the end of my drinking and using.  My drinking, eating and insert behavior here just stopped working.  No amount of anything could keep me out of me, and I just wanted me to disappear.  Obviously, quite a contrast to the type of escape I get from hearing stories, but I just can’t imagine a better high than laughing so hard my sides split, my eyes water and I lose my breath so badly that I start coughing before I can regain control. 

So, the reason I bring this up is that last week my sister, brother-in-law, mom, dad, husband and I were all in my parents’ kitchen last week, when the retelling of my many ‘wake up fits’ began.  My sister has the imitation of me down so well that it brings the whole event to life all over again.  This time she was focused in on an evening that I woke up at around 7 and frantically ran into the kitchen.  I was getting out cereal and milk and slamming my bowl down on the sink when my mom or dad asked me what I was doing.  Completed exasperated, I screamed back “WHAT DO YOU MEAN WHAT AM I DOING I’M TRYING TO EAT BREAKFAST AND I’M TOTALLY GOING TO FAIL MY TEST TODAY CAUSE I DIDN’T STUDY CAUSE I FELL ASLEEP I’M GOING TO FAIL!  WHAT DO YOU MEAN WHAT AM I DOING??!!!”  Family member, “Fran…”.  “YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND I’M GOING TO FAIL!!” “Fran, it’s 7 o’clock at night, not in the morning”.  “WHAT WHAT?!”  I was still waking up so it didn’t sink in instantly, but several more moments and it clicked that my dad was home and they were eating dinner.  As my sister reenacted the scene, we all broke into fits of laughter.  What a great feeling.  On the way home, I just kept getting the giggles seeing images of her playing the whole thing through and then experience the laughter all over again as my husband was playing her imitation over with me later. 

Stories give me perspective. They allow me to laugh at myself and at things once heavy and consuming.  They remind me of the value that every moment can hold.  They show me another side of my friends and family.  They reveal my own growth and the strength and love of others.   They take me to another place and my emotions and thoughts shift completely. Tell your story.  Listen to the stories of others.  Take it from me, it’s tough to find a better experience. 

To love freely...

I am incredibly tired today so I am a bit off but decided I had better blog anyway so as not to let this writer’s muscle of mine wither too much.  I have probably already passed that mark but here we go anyway…

It is a pretty amazing time for my family, and I am still a little overwhelmed to be a part of it.  My sister returned home from China a few weeks ago where she was adopting her third child, my new nephew.  An elaborate babysitting schedule was laid out by my sister and bro-in-law before she left, as my niece and nephew had to stay back in the states with working dad.  I took on a few days of babysitting, and my husband and I got to cook some meals for the gang.  I was filled with such a powerful sense of purpose that I really loved every bit.  My bro-in-law did a great job keeping mom and kids connected via Skype and even wrote a daily blog to loop in the extended family.  My new nephew is home now, and he’s a total rockstar!  There’s absolutely no question that he knows mom and dad and siblings are his.  It just blows me away, like it was meant to be and his heart just knows. 

I cannot even begin to understand what my nephew is thinking and feeling inside that little body of his.  I do like to guess at it though. :)   He seems a bit confused as to who I am and what’s going on sometimes, but that’s to be expected since he’s two years old and EVERYTHING JUST CHANGED.  He maintains a pretty fierce look for the most part with occasions of tears and more of brilliantly joyful smiles.  He has the coolest smile.  His whole face lights up!  Overall, I imagine a crazy amount of determination working inside him.  I project that his efforts are to focus, to understand, to communicate, to get fed (he really loves food!), to connect with mom and dad, and to explore his siblings.  I also wonder what he is feeling, aside from what he’s thinking, and simply have no clue.  I hope to spend more and more time knowing and loving him, but for now the mystery that is him is more than magnificent.

JUST FOR TODAY, 
I will love abundantly.

My reflections today really started, and end now, with my wanting to fix my relationship with a particular someone.  Let’s call this person Amanda.  I want control over what she thinks AND feels about me.  I want her to love me and trust me and confide in me the way she did a decade ago.  The wreckage of my past just slaps me right in the face some days, usually on the days I least expect it!!!  The thing is that I just don’t know what’s going on inside Amanda’s head and heart.  Unlike my new little nephew, I have a history with her and have decided some things based on that history.  She should forgive me.  She should believe I have changed.  She should know I love her and want her in my life.  She should reciprocate all my feelings.  As I write that I realize that what throws me is not that Amanda doesn’t meet all the ‘shoulds’, but that I just don’t know.  I feel lonely and scared- very different from the love and joy and hope I feel when watching my nephew without knowing.  I check myself with other people on this, and I find support in their feedback and find a greater love for Amanda in all her stubbornness and quirkiness.  The hurt remains of course, but hope is gained.  I believe and know I am taken care of and surrounded by the love of friends, family and God.  I would like some answers to emerge, and I would like even more for those answers to include Amanda and I becoming as close as we once were.  For now, I don’t have any answers so what can I do?  Probably nothing...  sitting still stinks.  Haha!  I hope to one day let go of my desire to control how other people think and feel towards me and to just love.  To love freely and without expectations is a practice that often eludes me.  Great thing is that sober experience and hope are on my side today.  And so, just for today, I will love abundantly!

MY PATH

I have heard in recovery that the road gets narrower.  Meaning that the longer a person stays clean and sober their scope becomes smaller in terms of things they find acceptable or venture to explore.  The flip side is also said - that life gets bigger.  I used to try to side with one or the other of these ideas, but today I realize both are a fit for me.

I have such a big life today!  I simply cannot physically or mentally experience everything I’d like to, and I imagine that my list of to-do’s will never shrink short enough to do it all.  In fact, I bet it just keeps growing.  People like having me around and they trust me.  With that I have discovered how much time a relationship, a close relationship, really demands.  It’s funny that I didn’t know that before, but I suppose I never really pursued healthy relationships, or probably more accurately, I never had the ability to put any consistent time or care into them.  Today I have been blessed with all these people in my life as the certain result of working off a different moral code than ever in my past.  I don’t tolerate deception or drama or bullshit of any kind for very long today.  I used to live immersed in lies and cheating and manipulation and gladly welcomed the same from people around me.  Now it’s just too uncomfortable for me to operate in that environment.  I simply find the pain of my old way of living unacceptable since having discovered and practiced a different way.  I really don’t try to push the limits all too much anymore.  I still crave excitement and once in a while I consider that crazy life again, and that lasts about 10 seconds.  Haha!  Seriously though, it only lasts a moment because it’s fairly impossible for me to think past a drink in my hand without then seeing complete chaos and destruction.  I find it comical that so many people draw an immediate assumption that I’m a goody-goody and always have been.  Actually, that can be bothersome to me at times because I want everyone to know that I’m not some naïve little princes, and I’ve seen more pain than they have probably only heard about.  You can see my enormous ego has not left me entirely!  Good part is that I don’t have to say a word about my past and the feeling of desperately needing them to know who I really am passes.  Lately two instances have occurred at work in which coworkers have tried to entice me into trying out some booze.  It’s hilarious that they assume I have never drank before.  I have forever assumed that people can detect the alcoholic in me.  I have hated that because I have felt branded.  Now, I feel uncomfortable with their assumption of my clean living.  Man, I spend a lot of time worrying about how others see me.  So silly. 

So yes, in many ways my road has narrowed.  I don’t seek crazy.  I don’t break the law.  I don’t keep secrets.  I quickly and directly admit when I lie.  I do not manipulate people or institutions.  I don’t go to bars and clubs just for a thrill.  I try not to hurt others.

My road has also widened.  I get together with bunches of recovering men and women, and I share and listen.  I babysit for my cousins and niece and nephew.  I have traveled to another country (yay!!! Finally!).  I coach teenagers to become better at my favorite sport and present them with more possibilities for their future.  I go out to eat and enjoy food.  I dance and sing and hike and swim and craft and play.  I have game nights with my husband.  I host alcoholics and addicts in our home when they seek my husband and I out for help.  I have made a home with my husband.  I pray and find peace in quiet.  I ask for help.  I really love who I am.  I am a recovering, faithful, smart, professional woman who loves her family and the silly things life, and most of the time I OWN IT!

A Letter to Little Me - HFC Day 15

Write a letter to yourself as a child – you can choose which ever age you feel is most relevant to you. What do you want to tell that child? What wisdom can you share with him/her? What encouragement can you give to that child? Tell that child what good qualities you see in him/her. After writing reflect on what you have written and recognize that those qualities still lie within you, as does that child.

Dear Francie,

Hello beautiful!!! So you are only six and I am thirty two but believe me when I say, I get you.  I know you love making lists so here’s a checklist for you to complete every day.  Feel free to rewrite it as many times as you like, and to cross out your completions with bold marker or circular scribbles, whichever you like. 

• Giggle.
• Tell your sister and brother you love them.
• Raise your hand in class and ask a question.
• Ask your parents to tell you a story about them when they were your age, they have some doosies!!
• Do a dance – freestyle.
• Get good and dirty.
• Mess up your hair.
• Sing a prayer or say it aloud.
• Cuddle with mom or dad or brother or sister.
• Give yourself permission to cry, even if you don’t cry, just remind yourself that it’s okay if you do.
• Find some water and get yourself soaking wet (bath, shower, hose, pool).
• Keep dreaming BIG.
• Remember you’re a kid and your parents will take care of you and your bro and sis no matter what, no matter what.
• See you body in the mirror and love it.  God gave it to you and it can do so much already!  You’re so fabulous exactly as you are.

This should be a good start.  Everything is going to be okay.  You are okay!  Have fun and be bold.  Be grateful for what you have and embrace it all with joy and laughter. You’re six!!!  Woohoo!

Finding my fit

I go around trying to dot my I’s and cross my T’s by doing everything I say I’m going to do and showing up for my friends and family when and where I am needed.  A lot of times it feels like I’m running around like a chicken with its head cut off trying to fit myself to everyone else’s schedule.  Sometimes I get overwhelmed.  When I do, I’m at a high risk of quitting everything.  What happens is I get to thinking people are disappointed or angry with me, because I can’t meet all their expectations.  Before long, I get swallowed up by guilt and shame.  Guilt and shame have been the two most paralyzing and dangerous emotions I have experienced in my life.  Enough of either one, and I fall into such self pity, resentment and fear that relief only comes at a great price not only for me but for others as well.  I wallow.  I hide.  I lie.  I lash out.  I self-destruct and take you down with me.  I have endured this enormous, destructive cycle countless times in my life.  Coming out the other side is neither easy nor guaranteed.  I DON'T HAVE TO LIVE THIS WAY ANYMORE.

The truth is that most often I am only guessing that people are disappointed or angry with me.  Even before I get to that, I admit that I am usually the one trying find time to spend with all the people I love in my life because they bring me strength and peace and joy.  So long before I find myself in a world of hurt, I have told myself lies like I am not in control of my own actions or that people have put me on a pedestal of sorts and expect me to be everywhere for everyone.  I have thrown out my own truths and put other people’s opinions of me over my own.  I have forgotten humility and have placed myself at enormous risk.  What people think of me and how much time I give to them decides whether I am a good or bad person.  I've given others all my God given grace that allows me to have my own human experience.  When I embrace my perfectly imperfect humanity, I get to love freely and give generously.  When I don't, I am bitter and alone.  Today when my thoughts get noisy with self-deprecating and berating messages, I can pause and ask for some help and some courage to get off my crazy making cargo train to crappy town and find my right place in this world.  Feet on the ground and eyes wide open, I can go from there and do the best I can, expecting no more than just what that turns out to be.

A long time ago, an elderly man told me this, “We don’t have to fit into shoes that are too big, just our own.”  Now that makes sense and takes the shame and guilt off my heart.  I can only do as much as I can do, and I’m the only one that knows my limits and my intentions.  I answer to the truths I hold within and I can be accountable to others without shame if I fall short of my commitments at any point.  I'm only human after all and I have discovered nobody has mistaken me as anything more... EVER. :) 

What I am

Lately I’ve been asking myself a lot of questions about what I want to be when I grow up.  With that comes a lot of reflection on what I am today.  Thankfully, I’m not asking myself who I want to be or who I am.  That’s probably one of the most convoluted, crazy-making mind games someone can play on themselves.  Who I am will constantly change as I try to grow and as I gain more life experience.  So I guess I know who I am – ever changing.  What I am?  Well, that can be crazy-making too I guess because I am made up of a lot of different pieces and if I’m asking the question, I’m the one deciding which pieces to count!!!  For the purpose of not ranting onto a philosophical tangent, I will keep the ‘what am I’ question confined to my professional world.

As a little girl, I wanted to be the next Olympic superstar, mostly for the fame and notoriety.  As a young teen, I wanted to be a nun, mostly because I had decided that I was a better person than everyone else and should be marked as good and special forever.  In young adulthood, I gave up wanting to be much of anything except cared for and protected and even that felt horrible.  By my mid twenties, I wanted to save all addicts and alcoholics everywhere, because I had gained so much experience with both and believed I could relate to anyone.  This would have seemed a bit more logical if I had been sober myself, but even then it would have been grandiose. J  A couple years later I realized that I had gone kicking and screaming through my whole life to avoid the ordinary.  My efforts had left me jobless, broke and hopeless.  I told myself that what I did would define who I was.  So, I had become completely worthless. 

Thankfully my brother, sister and brother-in-law didn’t just stand aside and let me wallow in my bog of self-pity and depression.  I moved in with my sister and bro-in-law and my brother quickly hooked me up with a friend of his who got me a job as a human resources coordinator.  I hated going to work.  I hated how ‘average’ the work was.  Albeit reluctantly, I showed up day after day (well most days) and before I knew it a year had passed.  My siblings even threw me a one year on the job party because they knew what a big deal it was for me. (Yeah I have the coolest siblings in the world!)  I worked there for over two years and by the end of my time there I had some employable skills.  I did quit my job so I was jobless and close to broke but I was no longer hopeless. 

I don’t think it is a coincidence that I got sober shortly after I left that job and moved back home to California.  Just by holding a job down, I had gained a little hope in myself and some esteem – two things I had not experienced in adulthood.  I had also learned a little humility.  I needed to show up for life no matter how mundane I decided the day would be.  I knew I had to get sober to give myself a chance at showing up consistently again and when I did I learned how to do a whole lot more than that. 

I had a ton of direction my first year of working as a sober woman: “Put your head down and do eight hours work for eight hours pay.”  “Be a worker among workers.”  “Self esteem comes from doing esteemable acts… just do the next right thing.”  “Act better than you feel.”  The daily practice of all these pearls of simplistic wisdom brought me to what I am today.  I’m a good worker.  In the office I am a very able professional.  People like me and easily trust me at work.  I am given more responsibility than my job description dictates, and I welcome it.  I am articulate and capable under pressure.  Flipping to my coaching self, I am an awesome coach.  I think I say awesome because I love doing it so much.  Really, I am responsible.  I am deserving of the trust I am given by both the kids and parents.  I am talented and get to see my kids improve at a rapid pace.

Now, after all that, what do I want to be when I grown up?  Ha!  I still don’t know.  I want to give this public speaking thing a shot and see what journey it will take me on.  I want to be a mother and provide for my family.  I don’t know how those things will mix or work if both are in my future.  What I do know is I will be present.  I will work hard.  I will be one in the mix of so many in this enormous world that try to do good things for it.  I will take comfort in my past experiences and know that no matter what, no matter what, things will change.  In the end, what I am matters very little.  Who I am will be born of the things I do as I continue to put one foot in front of the other, one day at a time.  It’s in the doing.

The Dream

I’ve learned that when I tell someone that I’m going to do something, I’m about ninety times more likely to do it than if I keep my intentions to myself.  I’ve had a dream for a long time to become a public speaker.  This dream has never taken shape because I have not made any concrete goals or made consistent efforts towards transforming this dream to reality.  I did enough research to know that blogging and writing is a great first step, but that’s about all I’ve done.  I believe I can be an excellent motivational speaker.  I believe I have the ability to stand up in front of a group, capture an audience, and ultimately inspire hope.  I believe there’s a path for me to follow to get to that end, but I don’t know where to start or how I will find my way.  That said, if I don’t start, well, I’ll never start.  If I never start, I’ll never find a way. 

I’ve fallen off my blog a bit because I couldn’t see a simple way to improve it and to expand its reach.  I have a nasty tendency to believe my perpetually lazy ego that tells me people should want to listen to me and value what I say without my having to show them I’m worth listening to.  Of course, I come to my senses after a bit and realize all I’ve gained is fear and what I’ve lost is time.  Good news is I trust that if I put one foot in front of the other and work steady and true, the time will come for me to realize my dream.  And if I don’t reach the stage or get the audience, I hope it will be because it was not God’s will for me, not because I did not put the work in.  “Far and away the best prize that life has to offer is the chance to work hard at work worth doing.” –Theodore Roosevelt.  This is worth it.  I still don’t know how to lengthen my reach, but I do know that working hard is the only way I’ll find out. 

Soooo, I’d like to increase my ‘do’ likelihood by 90 times and commit to a few consistent tasks and three goals over the next 1 month.  Here they are:

1.  I will blog 4 times per week no matter the typos or the length of blog.  I will post 4 separate entries a week.
2.  I will spend 1 hour, 4 times per week, researching how to bring more visibility and ‘hits’ to my blog and adjust my blog accordingly.
3. I will respond individually to comments on my blog posts
4. By month’s end, I will be following and participating on 15 other blog sites
5. By month’s end, I will have my blog site reformatted to be more interactive, inviting and intuitive  

Thanks for reading!  

Grateful for Gratitude

I haven’t had much to say for a while.  Life is going on and I’m showing up.  I feel kind of blah I suppose, and I know the cause so it’s not anything I want to fix or feel is going to destroy me inside.  I have certainly had some mornings where I wasn’t sure if I would be able to make all my obligations that day and wanted to stay home more than I wanted to get up.  It sounds a lot like depression, but I know and am comforted that it’s my chronic pain, increased over the last few weeks, that is causing my lackluster attitude.  I’m actually pretty impressed with what I’ve been able to do considering the level of pain I’m in.  I haven’t quit anything or lied to anyone to get out of obligations.  I forgot a meeting with one of the women I work with, but I still got there after she called to remind me about it.  I haven’t looked all that neat and tidy or spunky at work, but I am still getting the job done and receive nothing but positive feedback from my coworkers.  Now, just there, in less than a paragraph, I have found a topic for this blog.  Gratitude!  The power of it is amazing.  When I first started typing I didn’t feel up to the task and now I feel like I could write forever! 

I’m so grateful for so many things in my life today.  First things first is the simple ability to welcome growth and good and then to share it.  This is my own personal definition of gratitude.  I’ve written before about pain being my greatest motivator for change.  I absolutely grow from pain and with it I’m blessed with the good that comes once I’m on the other side.  I’m allowed moments of pain, frustration, disappointment, guilt, shame, and brokenness while still remaining present and aligned with reality.  So if and when I welcome some tough times and deep emotions, I get to experience the growth and the good.  Best of all I get to share it!  Truth is I have to or I get all sick and stupid in the heart and head, but it’s such an experience that I see it as a privilege.  I get to see and experience my life in an entirely different light than ever before and then I get to show others a whole new view of me.

I have a group of five or six female friends who write a daily gratitude list.  10 items a day and it might as well be a million.  The depth of emotion and richness of life we share in those emails is unbelievable.  The only guideline I have for my list is to be honest.  It is a gratitude email chain so I do have to come up with things I’m grateful for but I’m often surprised how that lets everyone in on what’s really happening with me.  I don’t have to see any of these women in person for them to know or for me to know when extra support and encouragement is needed.  It’s a paradox to me because logically I would think that by sharing only things we are grateful for it would mean we write only the simple, happy and good life events, leaving out the rest.  That is not the case!  We see it all, but we see it in the light of gratitude.  What that tells me is that I don’t need to whine and moan and bitch and complain to get support or help.  Why not seek to walk through struggles with the heart and eyes of gratitude?  I’m betting growth, good and companionship will continue to be found on the other side.

I haven't done my email list today so I will start it here.  Enjoy!

1. It’s Friday!!!!  Sleep is on the horizon!
2. I get to see Tina tonight and see the prayer quilt the women’s guild brought to her.
3. My mom asked me to watch her try on the clothes that she is packing for her week away to a wedding.
4. My sister called me this morning and asked when I was going to meet them at the pool.  They’re in Palm Springs!  So wonderful to feel loved.
5. My niece and nephew “love vacation”!
6. Hearing my husband’s work meeting went well in New York and he’s coming home tonight!  Yay.
7. My husband asked me what I want to do for Valentine’s Day in advance.  That’s a miracle!
8. Going shopping this weekend to start my new wardrobe and it’s even in the budget.
9. Even though I couldn’t see my old doctor I do have insurance and will be able to see a doctor that can help.
10. I do not have to fix or control anything in my life today because I know God’s got me.  All I have to do is continue to seek.

When tired takes over…

I got so physically exhausted that on Tuesday of last week I actually heard high pitched screeching in my head.  Tuesday!  I couldn’t see how in the world I was going to get through the rest of the week with that kind of fatigue setting in.  Of course I made it through and into the weekend without some banshee taking over my brain and body, but that took some doing.  When tired I become increasingly emotional and usually experience problems with depression, loneliness, self image, relationships, motivation, work, ambition, the little things, and then strangest of all - sleep!!!  That’s ridiculous by the way- I can’t sleep because I’m too tired?!!!!?????  What?  If things continue and I cross into the dangerous neighborhood of overtired, I lose the ability to hide my increased emotional state.  I might be seen experiencing one or more of the following: spontaneous crying, uncontrollable and/or inappropriate laughter, extreme anger at the suggestion of any sort of change in schedule or routine, inexplicable clumsiness, verbal ranting coupled with a lack of language or content filter, etcetera!   It becomes unmanageable in a hurry and I have found only one cure.  Sleep. 

My family pokes fun at me by calling me a professional sleeper.  It’s what I do best!  Okay it really used to be best if I was sleeping, and I would sleep for fifteen hours at a time for days in a row as an avoidance strategy.  Now, it’s just best if I get the proper amount of sleep.  For me that’s in excess of eight hours a day.  Right about nine hours seems to work best.  I realize that this won’t always be possible.  Actually, it’s already not possible all of time.  What if I have children though?  I don’t think I have ever met a mother who gets eight hours a night.  That’s so scary… for you all that have to deal with me then!!!  Hahahaha!  Seriously though, not only do I experience high emotions and incredible sensitivity, everyone around me gets a very ‘funny’ version of me.  I cannot imagine what my friends and family think during my overtired times.  Oh heck, they are so used to it they’re probably just amused or shrug it off.  But for the folks that haven’t known me so long?  Last week I told our team mom that there was no February 6^th and therefore our team dinner could not possibly happen that day, and I really meant it.  While the head swim coach was retelling the story later that day (he was copied on the emails), I was both uncontrollably laughing and crying real tears.  I also noticed the divers looking at me a bit sideways this past week.  I mean you can’t really miss when your coach starts giggling while talking about the schedule or comes close to falling in the pool a few times during practice.  What a wreck!

At any rate, I am still pretty tired from the last week or two but am beginning to feel some relief.  Strangely, this semi-rested, not quite 100% space is where I get myself in the most trouble.  I feel stronger, present much more sanely, and perform normally at work, but my emotions are still raw and tender.  My reactions continue to be magnified within, and instead of my extremely silly or unglued outward reaction, I can get pointedly mean and hurtful.  I remember a counselor of mine being concerned for my safety back in a particularly dark year of my twenties.  I was a couple days released from a psych ward, and I told her she should not worry because I was feeling a whole lot better than a few days before.  She gently replied that her concern was precisely because of my slight progress.  She acknowledged my improved cognitive reasoning and more groomed appearance but reminded me that I had struggled to find a reason to get out of bed that morning and then had experienced road rage and extreme jubilation within an hour of that.  She noted the imminent danger of my road rage transferring to rage towards myself, not to mention the danger it brought to other drivers as it was.  She reminded me that before being committed to the psych ward a few days prior, I had possessed no energy at all to do anything, including take my own life.  Now, in this ‘recovery stage’ I certainly had energy enough to accomplish that if I was hit sideways just right.  I absorbed her point and apply her message today.  I am watching myself closely and making a concerted effort not to step on too many toes or entertain any hopeless thoughts for too long.  Self pity is a luxury I can’t afford much on any day but in these times I must air it out quick, or else. 

Every doctor I’ve ever seen for anything has stressed the importance of sleep for a girl like me.  I am fairly certain they would say that to anyone.  So take advice from someone who knows: when tired takes over, just let it.  Get some sleep.

So good, so simple, so difficult!!

I can guess that everyone I have ever met can relate to not wanting to do something, even when they know that doing it wouldn't take much effort at all and it would quickly improve their life.  All gain and we don’t want to do it!  Seems nutty but then I think this must be a part of the human condition, because I’ve never met anyone that welcomes all healthy, positive, fun or good opportunities right away.  There’s some element of reluctance in all of us on certain things.  Exercise is a perfect example of my point.  Over the years I have heard countless people say countless times, “I know it would be really good for me but it’s just too hard to get started,” and go on to say “I know I’ll have more energy and more motivation to do things but I just don’t have enough time,” and go on to say “I know I’ll be so much more productive so I probably will have more time once I start, but I just can’t seem to get started,” and go on and on and on.  I’ve said all these things myself without any intention of actually exercising!  It's crazy really but everyone does it. 

I have a couple theories on why we have this strange unwillingness to do the ‘win wins’.  One I wrote about last week.  Fear of change.  Self centered fear that facilities us metaphorically shooting ourselves in the foot over and over and over again.  Fears like: I might not be able to follow through; it might be uncomfortable to change my routine; it might keep me from handling all the things I usually do in the same manner I usually handle them; I might not like it; people might look at me differently; etc.  The logical error is easy to identify.  Admit it.  These fears are ridiculous in light of the benefits we receive in overcoming them.  Don’t want to hang out with friends tonight because you’re too depressed and people won’t want to be around you?  Get over yourself.  They don’t care how you come.  They probably don’t even care if you come.  You will care.  Overcome the fear that you won’t enjoy yourself and that you will regret time missed reflecting on all the horrible crap in your life and the one that says you’ll feel stupid and uncomfortable the whole time because you won’t be able to entertain or relate to everyone like usual.  Just get off your butt and go!!!  Seriously, there’s nothing to lose but a few hours of self imposed misery.

And that brings me to my second theory on this issue.  People are lazy and we just don’t wanna.  Pure and simple.  I’m not an exception to this at all.  When I’m in a lazy zone, it doesn’t matter how little the effort; if it takes effort, I’m out.  It’s sad but true.  Imagine if when considering whether to do or not do, I counted to three and went on go.  I would get to reap so many benefits that I’d simply let pass me by otherwise.  Now, I realize the lazy factor is something that is hard to really find one real fix for but try everything and then try everything again.  Maybe not one, two, three, go but something!  What works for me at one time will not at others and vice versa.  Here are some of my efforts:

1.    When mornings are rough, I give myself a few minutes to stay in bed from the time I last looked at the clock.  I pick an exact time that I must be up by and as that time nears, I begin my own countdown.  It’s weird but as competitive as I am, I am almost always up before the clock reads the time I first chose.

2.    When I don’t want to exercise at all, I come up with the smallest amount of time I can possibly allow for a workout while still believing I will benefit.  I did some yoga this morning but really needed to try some cardio even with my aches and pains.  I ran for 2 minutes.  Yes 2.  I walked for 8 minutes afterward.  It’s a start!

3.    When I don’t want to go somewhere, I try to judge what an acceptable attendance time is for the event.  I usually decide that all I have to do is show up and I’ll be able to leave whenever I want to.  If it’s a family deal or an event in honor of something, I usually set an obligatory hour for myself.  That’s a really short time frame and I outstay my allotted hour nearly every time.  I get there and voila I have a social experience!

4.    When I don’t want to go to work, eesh every work day (I’m kidding!  It’s not that bad!), I use a laundry list of tricks.  One is to just to get there by blocking out all the thoughts projecting how the day will go until I actually arrive at work.  Another is trying to place something on the other side of the work day or week that I really want to do.  It makes getting through the work day way more appealing and cathartic.  Tons of things come to mind but these two are keepers!

5.    When I don’t want to try something new, I consider what I have to lose by trying it.  Usually the answer is either nothing or a couple moments of my time.  It seems silly to give up an opportunity that I might really enjoy when all I’m looking at sacrificing is not much of anything.

You feeling motivated yet?  

The Great Motivator

I’m not the best at dealing with change. I’m not even good at it. Change brings fear of the unknown and for me that’s self-centered fear. I fear that I’m not going to get what I want or I’ll lose something I have. I’m afraid that change will delete the comfortable and easy things from my life, and add stressful and difficult things.

I’ve never understood people when they say, “I have a fear of success”. I used to say it myself and didn’t even understand what I meant. I just wasn't capable of digging down below the surface and seeing the real truth. Looking back, I can see that anytime I said I was afraid to succeed, what would have been a more accurate statement is something like, “I’m afraid that if I do well now, things will change in the future. Then, I might have to take on more responsibility. Harder situations may come. I might lose this way of living where other people take care of me.  Because if I do this thing well, people will see that I can do this thing well, and they won't take care of me anymore. I will have to support myself and find strength within myself instead of stealing it from others.” To someone of a different mind, this may sound extreme. To me it sounds like just enough reason to stay locked up in my addictions. In short, I could have said, “I’m terrified of change.” Neither hope nor faith in anything but me and my sickness existed before I was in enough pain to want out. Being sick was the only way I knew for sure I would get what I needed and be cared for by the people I knew. As far as I was concerned, it was the closest thing to a guarantee that I wouldn’t have to face the terror of change.

They say that if nothing changes, nothing changes. The first time I heard that my heart sank because I knew I was incapable of change, which meant that the pain and despair of my world would continue indefinitely. I also heard that change is easiest when the pain is greatest. By that I knew that I would have to endure more pain, because I certainly was not in enough to want to change… yet. The great thing is that I was blessed to know the day where enough was enough. It wasn’t dramatic at all. Somehow I just knew I was completely beat and I’d had enough. I could not tolerate facing another treatment center or psych ward. It disgusted me to even think of it. I finally could not lie my way out of the truth. I was too tired to find another way out. I had to change and I didn’t give a dam how it was going to turn out. They were right, it really did come easy. I did what I was told for a while and was granted some hope as my life improved quickly. After some time and experience, the most enormous gift arrived – faith. Faith came as I looked back on all my trials, failures, successes, and fears, and realized that it had all worked out on the other side. Today I have faith that I'm not just going to get dropped on my ass. It's always going to work out, no matter my fears.

The freedom and happiness I have today was born of pain. Thankfully, it takes less pain to motivate me and I’m able to welcome change with much more grace than I ever thought possible. All of these thoughts stem from a change that’s happening in my life now. I’m moving this weekend. I’m scared, but I’m still moving. I’m only moving a couple cities over but it’ll change some things. I’m afraid of some of my relationships changing or ending. I’m afraid I won’t be there for the people I love as often and that I’ll miss out on things. I laughed when I wrote that though because it’s a little nutty. I mean, I really am only moving 13 miles from where I’ve been! I also have no clue if this will ACTUALLY affect any of my relationships. It’s like I think I’m living in an age without vehicles or technology. Seriously! I have a car and all kinds of gadgets to get a hold of people on. That’s my ‘magic magnifying mind’ again! I’m moving which means I’m losing something. That’s what I’ve been telling myself anyway. Now I’m kind of amused by my fear of moving. This happens a lot these days when I get to compare the truth to what’s happening in my mind. So I say forget it. Bring it. I’m ready to move and I’m excited about it. Woohoo!

The best medicine

I love to laugh.  It keeps me in touch with the simple things in life, replenishes my spirit and just feels good.  Here are ten laughter-filled moments of my past in no particular order.

One time…

1. I woke up at 7 o’clock on my bedroom floor with my head on a seventh grade science book and panicked.  I rushed into the kitchen and began making a bowl of cereal in tears.  I had fallen asleep studying for a big science test and was not prepared.  My family was sitting at the kitchen table and asked me what I was doing.  I replied, “I’m making breakfast!”  They asked me why and I excitedly said “I’ve got to get dressed and I’m going to fail me test today!”  Then my dad said something and I began to yell.  I don’t remember what I said but halfway through I realized that my dad was still home, everyone was eating dinner, I was still in my volleyball uniform and finally… it was 7 o’clock AT NIGHT.
2. My sister and I decided we were going to measure our bodies from head to toe, head to chin, just the neck, shoulder blade to shoulder blade, groin to ankle, feet, hands, reach, nose, knee to hip.  You get the picture, everything.  Turns out my legs were an inch longer than hers.  Her torso was two inches longer than mine!  The visual was too much and we were in fits of laughter.  My mom was too as she observed the spectacle.  Oh and we were sixteen and seventeen at the time.
3. I was driving my carpool to soccer practice as a high school senior and we stopped to get iced water at a drive through.  As I pulled out and took the sharp right turn onto the street from the drive through lane, the waters began spilling.  I tried to stop the drinks from spilling but did not stop the car.  We ended up all the way over the curb and back into the drive through lane, perpendicular to the window this time.  I waved at the clerk who was only about two feet from the front of the car, backed up onto the busy street and went along to practice. 
4. I felt that knowing my best friend was taking a run meant that I should take the opportunity to drive alongside her through town and sing “Wind Beneath My Wings” by Bette Midler as loud as I could accompanied by my stereo on full blast.  Nice.
5. My mom and I got into an incredibly intense sword fight with our empty wrapping paper cardboard.  It was pretty hard core until we couldn’t continue due to not being able to breathe and having to use the bathroom.
6. My brother and I spent a summer in one of the most boring cities in America, a college town with no summer life.  We decided our best option one day was to count our steps to the fast food restaurant where we got soda daily and the movie store.  To this day it’s the most talked about thing we did all summer.   I can’t remember how many steps it took us but I remember it was a good time.
7. The first week on my college campus, my friend and I ran into one of the school’s basketball players in the bookstore.  I only knew his name was Hans because my friend was freaking out about how cute he was and told me to talk to him.  Well, of course we made sure we got in line directly behind him and I tapped him on the shoulder and said, “Hi, you’re Hans and I’m Franz, nice to meet you!”  No idea what I was thinking but the look on his face was classic and my friend, of course, was mortified.  It was seriously like I was in a movie the first day of classes a couple days later and he sat down next to me.  He looked at me and just shook his head.  Awesome.
8. There was a cereal commercial on TV during Christmas time where this little kid would string the cereal for the tree and talk about it.  One of his lines was something like, “I love these little crunchy little cornballs.”  Well, my sister and I found this completely adorable with his little boy learning to talk voice and one day my sister broke out the line… at the McDonalds drive-through order intercom.  The whole carpool was in the car and she says, “Hi, can we have four vanilla yogurts on those crunchy little cornball cones?” with the accent!  Oh man, even writing it I can’t stop laughing.  Years of entertainment.
9. When I was in seventh grade I was a lecture during the school mass.  Unfortunately, so was my best friend and we talked throughout the whole mass on the altar.  As the whole school was being escorted back to their classrooms, the eighth grade teacher found me and while pointing right at my face yelled, “You were a wart on the sanctuaries nose!”  I didn’t laugh right then but when I got back to my classroom I was brought to the front and told to apologize to the class.  I got the giggles so bad I couldn’t do it.  Of course it didn’t help that I started by telling my classmates what the teacher had said.  Maybe I was being a bit defiant.
10. My dad came to pick me up from my last final the last day of my last year of college.  He had been packing up the car while I was in the exam so we could take off across the country right away.  I came out of the building and there was my dad open arms, the biggest smile on his face, a bloody forehead, a dirty and bloody shirt and torn up sweatpants.  He was cheering for me “You did it!  This is my daughter, she’s a graduate!”  Well, it so happened that a big football player approached the steps to the building while this was going on.  In the flurry of excitement my dad just got a glance at him and noticed the all too cool fashion the football player had going on with one leg of his sweats rolled up over his knee.  My dad stopped pointed and exclaimed, “Nice legs!”

My first Thanksgiving as an in-law

I’m not sure how many people come from the polar opposite family environment as their spouse, but it sure seems like a lot of us.  My family is at least 65 strong, counting only two generations (aunts/uncles and cousins).  My husband’s family is 3 strong.  People usually ask how in the world my husband survives my side’s events, but honestly he seems to love it.  The noise, activity, competitiveness, lack of attention on one person for too long, and more noise has somehow suited him from day one.  My mom is one of 11 kids who made me 30 first cousins who made their own babies.  My dad is one of four kids who made me 19 first cousins who made a lot of their own babies.  Also, my dad and his siblings grew up in a machine shop and their mother went deaf young so shouting is talking to them.  Again, it’s a lot of noise. 

My husband, mother-in-law and sister-in-law actually speak loudly and passionately most of the time, but the difference is you can actually hear and understand and respond to everything they’re expressing.  It’s exhausting.  Haha!  Who knew three people could be more tiring to mingle with than 50?!  This thanksgiving, after a lifetime of practicing how to stay lightly involved in multiple conversations at once and rallying into as many games as are played in one holiday day lest I might miss something, I experienced down time and the choice to either sit up, eat and watch TV or lie down and sleep.  The strangest part is that I felt slightly uneasy most of the weekend.  Certainly having traveled out of state and sleeping in the living room meant I was out of my comfort space but I didn’t expect to feel claustrophobic.  I really felt watched and I am absolutely positive it was my imagination.  At one of my family’s holiday parties you might have 10+ eyes on you at any given moment and the max there would have been 6!  So clearly, I was feeling overly sensitive and out of touch.

I have been taught (no, I did not know this) that change is hard no matter whether it’s good change or bad change.  The thing is that the trip was overall pretty wonderful.  While I missed my family a lot over the holiday, I made sure I called them to hear their celebration and played a lot of memories through my mind with a smile.  At Thanksgiving dinner, I was able to give thanks with a love-filled heart and experience my new family in a new way.  I got to see more clearly than ever that my husband is the man in his family and both his sister and mother look up to him with complete love, pride and confidence.  It’s an unbelievable thing to watch and a blessing to be a part of.  I realized too how seldom I recognize the strength of his family in our lives.  They are as vital a part of our marriage and its success as my family.  So the score is tied: 3 to 50.

J