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. 

When life happens, I want to be there

As usual this holiday has inspired me to reflect on my experiences, my relationships, my health and my overall life perspectives.  I like to start with the shortest time frame, the closest things, and build out from there.  Generally this approach ensures I end on a positive note.  Maybe it’s the distance or the time that’s passed that allows me more of an open-minded outlook and more permission to view the older, wider scope stuff as positives.  That’s neither here nor there I guess so here we go…

Starting with the near and dear, this year feels like it’s been a rough one.  If nothing else, it’s been a change packed one and we all know how I do with change! Growing pains indeed!!!  I moved my home; lost a dear friend; changed jobs; welcomed my new nephew home J; had neck surgery; and got some life-changing news about my mom.   Those were the doozies.  Sprinkled through were the little things: I celebrated three years sober; I got to hear stories from some awesome women and be inspired by their strength again and again; I went camping with my husband, then with friends, then with more family; I giggled a lot with too many friends and family to count; I enjoyed the ups and downs of my high school divers and celebrated their new skills; Notre Dame is #1 and going for the National Championships in a couple short weeks, and I was there with my dad, bro and husband to watch them beat USC; I wore a crown on my birthday on a hiking trail; I reacquainted with friends of old; I was able to clean up a little more of the wreckage of my past and continue to feel more and more at peace with others; I got to enjoy a rad cousin day; I heard just last week my brother has delivered three babies (WHAT!!!??? He’s really going to be a doctor!); I called my mom and sister almost every weekday morning and heard them and the kiddos in all their morning glory.  I could keep going but suffice it to say life is happening and the coolest part is I’ve been there to experience it! 

If I take a walk away from all that and turn around to see the bigger, broader view, I’m just in complete and total awe at the gifts and love that seem to have been poured straight down on my head in the past year or 4 or 33.   I see how lucky and blessed I am.  Certainly in light of all the traumas and hardships that are happening around the world, my ‘changes’ seem luxurious and inspired.  My heart aches for those in pain, experiencing injustice and stricken with loss.  I want to fix the wrongs and the hurts and the grief, but of course I can’t.  It makes me wonder how I got so lucky.  I used to ask God why a lot.  “Why me God?  Why is it so hard God?  Why can’t it be different God?  Why can’t I just quit God?”  I had to stop asking why in order to allow myself to just live and do the next right thing.  So now as I’m asking “How did I get so lucky God?” it occurs to me that I just don’t get to know the why’s and how’s of life.  I’m discovering that it’s in the not knowing that I’m enabled to live in today and simply do the next indicated thing.  Truth is I can’t know when someone will need my help or even if I'll be able to help them when they do, but so long as I show up and remain present, you bet your butt I’ll be there when life happens.   

All the love during this holiday season and happy reflections to you!!!

No Film

Keeping on the theme of my awesome nephew, my newest little buddy was baptized this past weekend.  What an amazing deal!  I’m telling you, I’m still blown away.  I was the camera girl, and I felt honored as usual in being asked to help.  I wonder when the novelty of being trusted with responsibility is going to wear off?  I hope never!  When everyone left for the church and I was left behind with my husband, I did have a moment of panic as physical pain and exhaustion took over.  I cried a few overwhelmed tears and took some medicine before I could join everyone at the church.  When I did, I was overwhelmed in a very different way.

Family and friends showed up in the usual rowdy fashion.  I got that old nervous feeling that we might get into trouble or insult someone for making so much noise inside the church.  That passed rather quickly though as I saw that the laughter, the hugs, the kisses and the play were nothing short of heavenly.  We, as a community, were lifting all that joy up to God.  It just kept getting better and better: the neighbor kids embracing one another; my nephew playing with dad between, under and over the pews; my young cousins reuniting and lining up excited and thrilled to be together in one long row; the priest processing in with both families of the soon to be baptized children to the tune of “He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands”; the proud Godparents smiling down at my beautiful nephew as the sacrament of baptism was performed; the sign of the cross being made on my nephew’s teensy two year old forehead by his parents, godparents, grandparents, aunts and big sister; my 3 ½ year old niece making the sign of the cross on her brother’s forehead with no knowledge of what that meant, but displaying all its depth with her simple desire to share the moment with him; both my niece and nephew crawling all over the pews, trying to be quiet and watching their brother take the spotlight (they don’t like that one bit!).  All of it was just so beautiful.  Then, to really bring it all home, the priest raised my nephew up in front of the altar, nice and high, over his head in awesome celebration.  We all swooned and awed at the magnificence of our newest family member.  A feeling of limitless love filled me as I shared all of this with my dearest of family and friends.

 

I got such great camera shots of all of this.  I mean, great shots.  I was really on top of it.  People were posing for me, asking for a copy to be sent to them later on, and giving me thumbs up as I clicked away.  And then I realized, there was no memory card in the camera.  I had taken it out that morning to print some pictures for house decorations for the reception after the ceremony.  This is one of those cameras that does NOT save any pictures on the hard drive.  They just don’t exist.  So bummed!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I had pictures of all those moments digitally captured!  I was so sad and apologized profusely to just about everyone.  Of course, they all said it was no big deal and we’d just collect shots of the day from a bunch of other folks and make a collection.  Okay, I agreed, but mine were so good!! Hahahaha.

For lack of words... or pictures!

Now that a few days have passed and I look back on Sunday, I just know I do not need pictures to remember the inspiring love I felt inside that church.  In fact, the power of it seems to have grown.  What a gift to have my spirit so lifted.  There is no picture that could capture that.  It is magnificent, awesome, beautiful and infinite.  My heart and spirit are so full, and they will remember that day forever. 

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!

Viva La Difference - HFC Day 9

Today is about celebrating what makes people different. What makes humanity interesting is that we are all unique. What does it mean to be different? Write about yourself or someone you admire or people generally in terms of celebrating the differences that so often people are mocked for. 

What does it mean to be different?  To me that can mean a whole lot of things both good and bad.  The thing about people’s differences is that everyone carries them with a different level of confidence.  You see folks displaying that quirky confidence, the loud confidence, the silent but strong confidence, the silly shy confidence, the not-so-confident and shaky, the not-so-confident and showy, the not-so-confident and pained.  So I guess what I’m saying is even differences are different, depending on who’s wearing them.  Of course I wish I could shout from the rooftops or, better yet, tell each and every person in this whole world individually that they are God’s kid and that they are just the way they are supposed to be in every way. 

I’ve talked about how much I love being an Aunt, and how my niece and nephew amaze me every day with their love and innocence.  My nephew is what the world would call different.  My nephew was born with no thumbs.  He had four fingers but no thumbs.  Shortly after he came home, doctors made him thumbs by taking his pointer fingers and turning them to the outside of his hands.  They also moved a bone in each hand over towards his new thumbs to give his hands more support and strength.  Now my nephew has three fingers and one thumb on each hand.  He also has a lot of scars and not much strength in his hands in general.  He’s three and a half and has a three year old sister who is much more physically advanced than her brother.  I’ve been so amazed as I watch the two of them grow together.  At first, my niece had a hard time sharing, helping, and waiting.  My nephew lost patience with himself in the blink of an eye and went into frequent tantrums.  My sister and brother-in-law were consistent, supportive and open-minded.  Talk about celebrating differences!  They like to cheer and sing and dance for their children.  It’s beautiful and I believe their celebrations and consistent messages of love and tolerance have allowed for the picture that is today:

My nephew uses his thumbs!  He doesn’t have a lot of strength and is coming up on a muscular surgery to try to help with that, but he makes no arguments when he is reminded to use his thumbs.  His sister cracks me up when she says in her mama-mimic singsong voice, “Use your thumbs”.   He takes part in all kinds of games and can ask for help in a strong voice, no whining.  It’s not perfect but he knows he’s capable, and he is happy.  He loves loves loves his sister, and she loves loves loves her brother.  They spend hours giggling with one another, changing clothes or ‘costumes’, reading books, planning tricks or silly presentations for mom and dad.  My nephew is a total ham and a jokester.  He has this big beautiful personality and engages so well with people.  He gives the greatest hugs and will make faces at you until you laugh with him.  He knows he’s different and he certainly has a lot of frustrations because of his handicap, but I see the growth and the blessing he is.  I think he knows he’s great and special and loved too.  One unexpected gift that my nephew in all his uniqueness has given me is a very different meaning to my cutting scars.  He does not know how I got them, but he likes to compare our scars.  He puts his arms up to mine and points out that we are the same.  The first time he did this it brought tears to my eyes.  I have experienced the transformation from a painful and shameful memory to a loving purpose-filled gift.  This kid is so rad, I could go on for days!

My nephew is different.  Different is awesome!!!!

A picture is worth a thousand words - Day 8

Choose a picture (non-triggering) that speaks to you with regards to the experience of an eating disorder and/or recovery. Write in any way you choose about what it means to you and why and what lessons can be learned from that. You don’t have to write a thousand words, but if you would like to – feel free!

This was taken on my wedding day one year ago…

I don’t know what I weighed that day.  I did my own makeup, light and simple.  My hair turned out pretty cute.  My mom finished the happy yellow ribbon for the dress that morning.  Nothing was exactly in place but everything was absolutely as it was meant to be.  All day I embraced my own beauty inside and out, and I was totally present.  The abundance of laughter, hugs, kisses, dancing, and family that celebrated life with faith and love that day filled me completely. 

RECOVERY MADE THIS POSSIBLE.

Forgotten Brothers - Day 7

Today think about men who suffer from eating disorders. Either write from your experiences as a male ED suffer, from the point of view of a friend of a man suffering an ED or else imagine how the experience of an eating disorder and of recovery is different for men.

This topic is very difficult for me being that I try to write from my own experience and avoid projecting too much on others.  Not that I don’t have a ton of ideas and opinions about other people’s experiences but I’m guessing most, if not all of them, are inaccurate and sell others short.   The experience I do have is through relationships with men and it’s strange to reflect and see that after all these years in rehab and day treatments and group recovery, I don’t know very men who have admitted an eating disorder.  On top of that, I can only remember one man I knew when I was eighteen who admitted he was bulimic and I don’t recall ever having an anorexic male friend.  I participated in a sport where I know the bulimia and anorexia among males is much more common than in other arenas, so I am absolutely certain that I just didn’t notice.  It is sad to think that even from someone who watched and compared every little thing and every little habit of every girl, I didn’t see the men. 

I remember the man I knew with bulimia.  I remember we shared a lot of our pain and heartache with each other about the disease.  He was a lifeguard at the pool that summer and a wrestler all throughout high school.  He told me how his weight struggles has begun as a young kid but that his bulimia kicked in when he had to do weigh ins before wrestling matches.  At eighteen, without a sport to pursue any longer, he couldn’t stop binge purging.  He had lost the ability to control his intake and his absolute need to vomit afterwards.  I totally understood his disease and related to his behavior, but I could not console him at all.  I remember that the loneliness he talked about sounded slightly different than mine.  He called himself a freak and told me he wasn’t much of a man and that he was weak.  I believe these were feelings that came from being a man with a disease hidden from the world as an ‘acceptable ailment’.  It was heart wrenching to listen to his stories but I’ve never forgotten.  I have coached kids since that show all the signs, most were wrestlers at some point and divers with me.  The approach I have taken is simple education, nothing personal.  I might need to think about whether or not that’s even supportive.  If they’re suffering, they may feel like lonely week ½ man freaks. 

I admit I have been part of the forgetting crowd.  Today, I strive to join the support reaching out to my forgotten brothers and to meet any hand asking for help in the future.  You are not alone.  We have the same illness and recovery is possible for all of us.

Top Five of Me - HFC Day 5

Whether you have body image issues or not, eating disorders attack the body. Write today, whether poetry, list, stream of consciousness or whatever way you choose about what you appreciate your body for, what parts of your body you treasure most and why.

My top five body appreciation parts:

(Hahahaha! Who would have ever thought I’d be writing something like this?!!!!  I remember all the times they asked me for just one good thing about myself and even with suggestions I couldn’t do it!  Now, I whittled my list to five in order to save my wrists and hands on the typing because I have three entries to write - I take the weekend off from writing.  Anyway, when I wrote the title with a giggle, it just  struck me as such a miracle/gift/oddity.  I’m looking forward to this.  What?!!  J)

1. My feet – I’ve always liked my feet.  This one stands at number one because I can’t really remember a time that I HATED my feet.  I don’t know if I can say this about any other part of my body.  My feet have been true companions if you will.  I did break my big toe a couple months ago and it was extremely ugly but it’s almost back to normal.  Still a little on the swollen side but I’d say all in all… my feet are still pretty cute.  Also, my feet are pretty amazing, functionally speaking.  I have excellent balance, strong toes and pretty decent flexibility in my toes.  How cool that I can dive the way I can much thanks to my feet!
2. My hair – Now this was in top competition for the number one spot because my hair has provided hours upon hours upon hours of pure entertainment.  I love playing with my hair and creating funky do’s and trying on different colors.  My sister encouraged me to be a hair dresser for a long time because I have so much fun with it.  She and I used to have races to see who could French braid our own hair the fastest, then backwards, then inside out.  I once made an affirmation art therapy scrapbook for an assignment and title it ‘Crazy Hair’.  I still have it.  My hair has spoken to my personality, my mood, my acceptance or rebellion, my self-worth and altogether me over the years.  My hair is an expression and I love expressing me.
3. My hips – Yeah and it’s number 3!!!  I never, ever thought I’d appreciate my hips.  I fought against my hips.  I put my hands over them as if cutting off that section of my body when I looked in the mirror praying they would disappear one day.  You know the drill.  I just wanted them cut off.  Well today that’s not the case.  One thing I’ve learned in recovery is to love other women.  In turn, I’ve learned to love myself as a woman.  This did not happen overnight nor did I consciously work on, getting rid of the fear of having a woman’s figure.  The hatred of my hips kinda just slowly but surely faded into the background.  Then, after a time, I started to see beauty in them.  Amazing.
4. My tummy – My tummy is my signal.  It signals when I’m straying from my course.  Warning, warning, warning!  Any mind games or food games I play, I will recognize the consequences of them in my tummy.  Whether that’s in the form of feeling bloated, seeing new weight added, having cramps, having gastrointestinal problems or feeling empty and flat, it will reveal where I’m at with my body image and my abstinence.  It’s a gift really.  I don’t have to wonder what’s up with me for too long before my tummy tells all. Heehee.
5. My shoulders – I’m strong.  My shoulders are broad, yet feminine.  I love my strength and athleticism and find a quiet comfort in that.  I love that my shoulders allow me to carry a posture of confidence and openness.  I pull my shoulders back, open my eyes and welcome the world in.  And it’s so, so beautiful.  

Enjoy Your Body - it's the only one you've got!!!  YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL!

Hungry for Change - Days 4, 2, 1

My ED…

Recovery…

This has been a powerful exercise for me.  It felt difficult, if not impossible, to depict what my disease and recovery really are to me in just a few words.  I wrote a bunch of random thoughts and feelings and arranged and rearranged words.  As I did, I found that I was really digging into the core messages of my disease and recovery.  My eating disorder started as a thing in which to find refuge, but quickly became nothing short of a living and very lonely hell.  The details are of no importance, that’s the core and ugly truth of the disease for me.  I was hoodwinked and then I was trapped.  I became resigned to my disease.  I knew sickness was all there was for me and I would die alone.  Heavy stuff.  Recovery is light.  My friend likes to say “wear recovery like a loose garment”.  I get it.  There is so much freedom in recovery and in being able to move in whatever direction I please.  I can do this because I’m secure in the beauty of my recovery, and in the amazing examples and support I have all around me. I don’t fear it all falling apart because what sense would that make?  I couldn’t figure out how to add a very well used mantra of mine to my slogan without making it too long, but it really does represent my hope and faith in recovery.  

In the voice of something bigger I hear, “I didn’t bring you this far just to drop you on your ass!”

When I’m in fear, when I think I need fixing, when I want a fix, when I’m too tired, when I can’t see the solution, I remember that I am never alone.

Weighing in briefly on my missed days…

1. I have faith and hope today. 
2. The freedom to dance. 
3. Being Auntie Frannie Fran Fran.
4. I LOVE my family.  I LOVE people.  I get to experience life with others.
5. I have my giggles back.
6. Women are special and priceless and I get to learn from other women today.
7. I trust in change today.  I pray for growth.
8. I ENJOY parties and banquets and holidays!
9. I have a purpose today.
10. I am alive and life is good.

One reason – I want everyone to hear and know

RECOVERY IS POSSIBLE

I read the news today

I was prompted to write while perusing news articles today.  Man oh man is it depressing to read the headlines alone!  I have asked why news has to be so violent, traumatic and tragic as a blanket question my entire life.  I’m not exaggerating. I think I’ve wondered this my entire life, or at least as long as I have had a high enough level of cognizance to wonder it.  I used to ask my mom to turn off the news or just not to watch it at all, because I couldn’t handle hearing all the chaos being reported.  I’ve always compartmentalized ideas, events, actions, people, and just about everything else. I couldn’t fit ‘the news’ in any of my acceptable spaces so it went into the unacceptable and intolerable bins. Yes, I lived a charmed and somewhat sheltered childhood.  My rather naive brain could not have possibly made sense of it all in my accustomed way - which was to make sense of it all.  This is probably pretty normal but what is a little odd is that I still do the same thing today as a 32 year old woman! 

I suppose I’ve gotten more comfortable with some of it. The major headlines that include just an overview idea don’t completely revolt me or send horrible visuals and/or real fear through me.  I certainly can decide whether or not to watch longer or read on based on those headlines.  If I decide to read an article and it immediately exploits someone, delves into unnecessarily horrific details, or contains a tone that is unsettling, I stop reading.  The problem comes when someone else, most often my husband, has chosen to watch something that I don’t like.  I can hear the crap through closed door and the shows I recognize, I can’t even stand all the dramatic music and I get pretty moody and bossy about what can and can’t be played in our home when I’m home. 

Again, I feel like I was born with this hyper sensitivity to violent or vulgar media, and as you can imagine it has really caused some frustration and embarrassment in the more recent years.  I used to put myself to sleep in a theatre if a movie was overwhelming to me.  Falling asleep anywhere on my own volition was a skill that served me well for years. I can’t do it as easily anymore but that might have to do with the absence of copious amounts of psychotropic drugs in my system.  From about 18 – 28, I was pretty much sleepy and lethargic all the time so given the opportunity to check out, I chose sleep quite often.  I think I also take after my dad; he fell asleep in the theatre (the real theatre) during The Phantom of the Opera which is like the loudest (in a good way) production ever!  Honestly, it was just so much easier, and I still think nicer, than cutting the movie short for me and whoever I’d gone to the theatre with.  So now that I don’t have such an easy switch to sleep capability, I don’t have another solution – yet.

I’ve tried a few things to no avail.  I’ve tried to close myself in the bedroom and play music while I read.  This usually ends in my temper flaring up because now I’ve cut myself off from socializing and from the kitchen J.  So that’s out.  I’ve tried to actually watch the shows.  Total disaster has ensued every time.  I have zero ability to control my extreme and emotional reaction to these shows – yet.  I’ve prayed and prayed for acceptance of both my limitations and other peoples’ tastes that I can leave if I’m bother WITHOUT acting the victim.  I need to pray more cause this hasn’t worked.  I’ve tried mandating that only the shows I approve of be played when I’m home.  This is actually where we’re at now because it’s kept the peace.  So far my husband has proved much more flexible than I, and yet I still react when suggestions for ‘the other’ shows are made.  Oh well, here’s room for growth.  Maybe some therapy is in order.  Maybe more creative outlets are options for me.  I don’t know what but more will be revealed.

How to die gracefully

A lesson from Tina Diaz.

My sponsee in recovery died of cancer Sunday night at 11:10pm.  She was 2 years and 4 months sober and absolutely LOVED LIVING LIFE.  When I met her, she was in remission and just beginning a new journey in sobriety.  Just a short time later, the cancer showed up again and she fought hard to survive another bout.  Sadly she has passed, but not without leaving behind tons of memories and a bit of her tenacious spirit in all who loved her.  Over the past year, I’ve heard myself say on several occasions something like, “If there’s a way to die well, Tina’s doing it”.   

Throughout her fight, she spent all her stored energy experiencing brand new adventures.  She was one mighty woman!  She won a scavenger hunt and danced at my wedding.  A memory I will never forget.  She parasailed, went on retreats, threw birthday parties for her family (played in the bounce houses herself!), let it loose in Disneyland, and all sorts of other things.  She lived! 

From her sick bed, she would send us out from our visits saying things like "Go get a newcomer ladies!"  She wanted everyone to get the life and freedom she found in recovery.  She had a clear purpose to share her story with other alcoholics and she never passed up a chance to reach out to someone in pain.  She inspired so many women to admit their problems were not so big, to swallow hard, to suit up and to help someone out.  If Tina could, they could too. 

She was a fierce mother and so loved both her children and her grandchildren.  She would do anything for any of them and didn’t bat an eye to defend them.  She would get this ‘don’t mess with my kid’ face on if someone began to cross a line, and if her accent returned, oh man, watch out!  Her family surrounded her in her final moments.  She was a blessed woman.

She loved having prayers sent her way.  It was like she could feel them comforting and energizing her.  You could see her whole body change and her chest expand as she took in the prayers and well wishes sent from her friends.  Occasionally, she would cry while she listened to longer prayers.  It was as if the longer ones filled her up so much that she overflowed in tears.  The way it moved her was so inspiring that I came to find more comfort in prayer than ever before in my life.  She taught me how to pray comfortably, honestly and without reservation.  I was not shy in prayer with Tina.  She was a woman of awesome faith and she showed me how to carry my own faith with more grace and confidence.  She told her friends and family that when the time came for her to go from this life, she would not be afraid.  She would be filled with love and taken home.  What faith!

I am humbled to have ever met Tina and am so grateful for all she taught me.  I hope you can find strength, hope and faith in her story.  She would love you to know more of them all!

“To watch people recover, to see them help others, to watch loneliness vanish, to see a fellowship grow up about you, to have a host of friends -- this is an experience you must not miss.” -BigBook of Alcoholics Anonymous, p.89, Working With Others

“We shall be with you in the Fellowship of the Spirit, and you will surely meet some of us as you trudge the Road of Happy Destiny.” -BigBook of Alcoholics Anonymous, p.164, A Vision For You

Keep it simple stupid

Yes, this title sounds harsh.  No, it’s not meant to put anyone down nor is it meant to label anything or anyone stupid.  This is a slogan around recovery communities that isn’t used so much anymore.  It’s usually just said as ‘Keep it simple’, which I admit is a great message by itself.  For me though, the stupid works.  I didn’t always agree that it was a useful saying.  The reason it works for me now and didn’t a few years ago is that my perception, the way I view myself in relation to everything and everyone, has drastically changed.  I used to feel like a little piece of terd.  If someone was trying to help me, but used a slogan with a derogatory term at the end, I took it as a personal offense.  I couldn’t hear the message through the delivery.  I don’t feel smaller or less than anyone today nor do I feel at all unintelligent.  Yet now, more than ever, “keep it simple stupid” really does make good, logical sense.  


The ‘stupid’ reminds me that I must remain teachable.  I heard it said best like this, “You can’t teach someone something they already know.”  I spent years telling people I couldn’t stay sober or stop purging.  I would tell them exactly why that was.  I would tell them what I needed to do if I was ever going to ‘get it’ and then all the reasons and emotions that prevented me from doing any of those things.  Clearly, I was not going to change because I had it all figured out.  I knew all the answers to all my problems and no one could convince me otherwise.  So, neck deep in despair and desperation, I held onto just enough intellectual egoism to stay stuck and miserable.  


Finally, finally, finally, I just didn’t know.  I had no ideas or solutions of my own and couldn’t find any persuasive arguments to excuse myself from trying something different.  It took what it took for me.  I could tell stories upon stories that lead me to the day I ran out of ideas, but I could not begin to guess why it was that day that it happened.  It simply did.  Without answers I began listen to folks who appeared to have them.  Stupid me was the beginning of the me I have become today.  It gave me enough willingness and openmindedness to seek a simple solution.  Thank God I did.  It really is simple! 

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.