A Sluggish Start

Well, today is Halloween here in the States.  Jeesh.  I plan to take the karaoke to the shelter and hopefully we will all have a good time singing, laughing and playing.
 
However, this morning before going to the shelter, I hope to take Hunter to the car body shop and get an estimate of how much it will cost to repair the damage.  When I stop to think about the wreck, I feel a mix of sadness and anger well up inside me.  It's not as bad as it used to be, thank GOD and therapy!  Jeesh.

Also it's been a while since I've heard from my friend who went on a road trip with her husband.  She told me they planned to be back around the middle of October.  I put them both in the Hands of the Higher Power.  I wish them the best.

I'm kind of down-hearted this morning.  Most of the time I wake up in a good mood, animated, ready to start my day.  This is not the case today.  I put this in my Higher Power's Hands.  I know that "This, too, shall pass".

Sometimes just getting out of the house, on my day's adventures, helps me get past the doldrums.  Practicing an attitude of gratitude also helps  When all else fails, just being of service to someone else in need can work in ways no other can.

Dear Higher Power, I put this all in Your awesome, powerful, protective, loving Hands.  As You Will.    Love, Carol xoxox

Back to the Basics

No matter what, all roads keep leading me back to the Steps.

I love to click the online, first 164 pages of the AA Big Book.  Any words or questions I have about the book of "Alcoholics Anonymous" are easy to look-up at this website.

Opinions are like a**holes, everyone pretty much has one but when in doubt, go to the source, to the basics.  The Big Book is the basic text of the 12 Steps.  The story it's called the Big Book is the first printing of the book was large, very large because they doubted any alcoholic would part with their money for a little book.

Anyway,  the formula for success at working the Steps is laid out in this book.  Also, there are speaker tapes sometimes called Big Book studies where it's possible to go through the Steps using the format of this book.  Joe and Charlie are 2 speakers famous for their efforts to pass it on, how to use the book of "Alcoholics Anonymous".  Myers and Chris R. are very effective in this effort, too.  There are different opportunities to listen to them at websites for example:  http://www.aaspeakers.org/ , http://xa-speakers.org/, etc.

Other fellowships also have speakers that go through the Steps.  Same thing.  Because it works.

Also, I like to keep the slogans close by.  Like,  3 A's:  Awareness, Acceptance, Action
and the 3 C's:  I didn't Cause it, I can't Control it, and I can't Cure it. Let It Begin with Me.  First Things First.  Honesty Open-minded Willingness.  One Day at a Time, etc.

All of these are part of the spiritual tool kit freely given and laid at my feet.  All I need to do is pick them up and use them.  That's my part in recovery.

 

Yesterday's Meetings

powerful.

The AA Women's meeting was a speaker meeting and one more time, just powerful.  The speaker talked of how her father and brother sexually molested her, the father raped her on her 13th birthday, she started drinking and drugging thereafter.  I sat there and felt so angry at those who hurt her.  My sponsor sat beside me and I asked her how she felt.  She seemed pretty sedate, calm.

That's not how I felt.  I wanted to kick some butt.  Grrr....

I can tell I have a long way to go...

To the Care of GOD as we understood Him

To turn myself over to the care of GOD is to take the leap.

"Care" is a tough word for me.  The way I experienced being cared for was haphazard, to say the least.  Sometimes my needs were met, a lot of times not.  As a dependent child I was treated as a third-rate, lower class citizen.  Just in the way and another mouth to feed.  Someone to be bothered by, irritating, and to be ignored.  I was "bad" if I didn't comply, if I wanted something different, if I spoke my mind, etc. so in consequence I was taught "lessons".  Those lessons consisted of either ridiculed, talked about in front of my face, spankings, being screamed, threatened, cussed or withdrawals of love, attention and support.  My therapist assures me it's amazing I have the capacity to love and care for others.  I believe him.

There were people in my young life that stepped-up and extended a warm, loving, caring hand.  I am truly grateful.  My grandmother on my dad's side of the family seemed to really love me.  She glowed with pride and affection as she introduced me to others.  There were many times I went to stay with her because my mother threatened to kill me otherwise.  I must have been really hard on my mom.  Celia, another therapist, told me it was like a little Chihuahua dog had birthed a Great Dane.  I felt impressed with the description because in a way, it was like that.  My mom was 4'11" and 85 pounds wet.  While I was much taller and bigger than her by the time I was 8 years old.  I was growing like a beansprout, towering over the others.  I was a big girl.  Not obese.  Just a big girl compared to my mom and two older brothers who were much smaller, diminutive in size.

I used to love to read the comic books of Little Lotta.  I could really love and relate to her.  Little Lotta  Little Dot, Richie Rich, Superman, etc. were so fun to read and fantasize, imagine being in their world.  Then back to reality.

But those brief escapes had the quality of  a reprieve, a small space in time where I experienced a taste of freedom.

When I grew up, I found that substances like alcohol, food, etc. seemed to give me that same kind of exhilaration, brief respite, escape.  But what started in small doses soon lost their impact and I needed more, more, more in efforts to get the initial "high" without ever really achieving that same level of thrill again.  A bunch of "almost" highs that felt good enough but not quite like the very first time.  Near misses or so it seemed to me.  I settled for what I could get.  Those multiple efforts turned into habit and spun tighter and tighter into obsessive, compulsive behavior.  This became "normal".  My playgrounds, playmates, and playthings revolved around this need to feel "normal".  No big deal.  I was surrounded by people who pretty much were in the same boat as me.  We all okayed each other.  High five.

But even there, in the middle of the nebulous Nether lands of Addiction, I didn't fit in.  Something was missing.  I wasn't free.

And it wasn't until I came into the rooms of the 12 Steps that freedom became a greater possibility.  Where I was surrounded by people like me who were sick and tired of being sick and tired.  Who shared the same horror of "The Grip", the despair, frustration of doing the same thing over and over while expecting different results.  Who had the desire to stop the maddening, insane whirl.  Who wanted freedom.  Who were willing to do whatever it took.  Who were ready.  Anything was better than the pain of the hellhole.  I wasn't alone.

It's been suggested to me, to get down on my knees, and say out loud, the 3rd Step prayer on page 63 of "Alcoholics Anonymous" or words kind of like that.  Hand it all over.  Let Go and Let GOD.  Trust, rely, believe, have faith in a power greater than myself to take care of things.  Like I heard, I don't have to know how electricity works so I can flip a light switch to get light in a room.  I just got to turn it on.  I believe that's what happens when I Let Go and Let GOD.  I turn it "on".  I just need to get out of the way of the Sunlight of the Spirit.  Let it shine.  Let it shine.  Let it shine.

Let It Shine

...and remember to stay out of the way!  Sincerely, Carol xoxox

To turn our Will and our Lives over

Well, I missed blogging yesterday.  My grandchildren's other grandmother's sister died in the early morning hours.  The other grandmama called and informed me of her sister's passing away.  That even though it was expected...it was a shock. I listened and felt her grief exude through the phone.  Tears slid down my face in a silent cascade as I listened and related to her pain of loss.  After talking with her at 2:30 in the morning, I just wasn't able to go back to sleep.  I thought about them and then I thought about my own sister.  How I almost lost her in 2006 to drugs, alcohol and prescription pills.   How I arrived in the rooms of Al-Anon after 13 years in AA.  How was this possible?  I already was in a 12 Step program.  Why did I need another?  Was I unique in this matter?  Was I uniquely ill, worse off, stupider, off my rocker?  Why did I need this and other people didn't?  I felt so alone.

But since then, I've met many others who also are double, triple, multi-winners.  I'm keeping an open mind about this because, so far,  the ones I've met seem to have been pretty mangled from their life experiences.  On the outside, they present in a certain way.  But in the spirit, in my mind's eye, I picture them as magnificent spiritual warriors, forged by surviving the fires of hell.  They can help like no other because they truly know what it's like to not only be in the pit of hell, and not only to survive hell, but to triumph over hell.  To spread their wings and fly not by their own power but by the grace of the Higher Power.  They have the personal experience of relying on the Higher Power to do for them what they nor any other human being could do.  Freedom at last.  But at a price.

The price is to let go.  Turn it all over.  All of it.  My will to be self-centered, selfish, egocentric, etc. in not only my life...also yours and everybody else's.  Putting my life at the center of the Universe, and me in the center of my life.  Me, me, me.  As if I know what's best for me and you.  Skewing the whole perspective to my point of view.  Busy being busy.  "Gotta look good, avoid looking bad".  Busy on how I think it ought to be.  Busy on pushing, pulling, coercing, manipulating, lying, denying...trying to be the Force of the World.  Obsessing.  Compulsive.  Fixating.  Narrowing, rigid, constricting point of view with blinders on.  Exerting my will on everybody else's.  AND think I'm doing fine when I get away with it.  AND judging everybody else when I don't.

To turn my will and life over I must get out of the navigator's seat.  The Controller.  The Director.  Stop it.

So easy to say and hard as heck to do for someone like me.

Made a Decision

I grew up in a wild, topsy-turvy environment.  Never knowing what to expect, insecure, on guard, distrusting...and acting as if everything was fine.  My acting skills were honed.  I relied on me to survive.  This was survival.  Like the saying goes, "Never let them see you sweat".  It was in my best interest to hide, cover, deny my true self, how I really felt, thought and believed.  This is what I learned worked best.

I learned to put up a "front", a facade.  Made it as people-pleasing as possible especially to those who were in power.  Screw the rest.  Who cared about them?  I cared.  Deep down in my secret place, I cared and dared not show it.  This was survival...at a cost.

I got in a lot of trouble as a child.  Because even though all the above is true, I just couldn't sustain it.  My true feelings would break through and there I'd go again speaking my truth as if anybody really cared.  What mattered was I cared and that was good enough for me...even though I paid the price for such independent thinking, for asserting my point of view and for the sheer audacity of speaking or acting on it.

Sometimes, oh, sometimes the valiant efforts to be true to my inner self reaped great rewards, changes.  One of those changes was when we, my 2 younger brothers, sister and I,  were removed from the horrific circumstances we were living in.  We had a chance where before we had no hope.

Anyway, most of my life I continued to act "people-pleasing" with a large dose of a strong need to survive and those intermittent break-through efforts to assert myself, to get what I wanted, "by going to the candy store to buy a hammer".  I kept wanting love, attention, affection, acceptance, intimacy, emotional support, etc. from the very people who just didn't have it to give or if they did, not in enough quantity to fill the void, the large, lasting, gaping hole left in me from surviving the traumas.  Until I came to the rooms of the 12 Steps.

Here, at last, was the warmth, love, respect, acceptance in large enough quantities to help me feel loved enough, supported, understood and accepted enough to grow, develop, and blossom in self-acceptance, etc.

It felt good but it wasn't enough to arrive...I needed to make a decision.  Kind of like where Neo in the movie "The Matrix" must make a choice between the red pill or the blue.  This choice can free him from the known comforts of the "dream world" he's known all his life or he can live in the unknown territory of reality, how freedom really is.  

What is my choice?  Do I hang on to what I know?  The bondage of self?  Do I continue to exert my will in selfish, self-centered, fear-driven, controlling, best-thinking, manipulative, inconsiderate, jealousy, suspicion, bitterness, dishonest, denying, self-seeking ways?

Or do I let go?

Take the leap?

Into the unknown of depending, trusting, confiding, relying on the Higher Power I choose to call "GOD" to guide me, lead me, direct me according to the Higher Power's Will?  To use me?

One day at a time...sometimes one minute at a time.  Sincerely, Carol xoxox

"I see sick people"

Quite a few years ago, my son and daughter, Beau and Jessika, took me to see a movie, "The Sixth Sense".  I doubt they ever take me to see a scary movie again.  There was a scene that scared me so much I literally jumped about 2 feet straight up from the cushioned seat which in turn jolted them.   They told me I startled them more than the movie.  Hilarious.  LOL  Anyway, there is a scene in the movie where the little kid says, "I see dead people".

I can relate to that kid.  Except "I see dead people" applies to spiritual death, the deep sleep.  Unconscious.  Unaware.  Comatose. Asleep.  Unawakened.  Closed eyes.

Or I'd probably say something more like, "I see sick people".  So sick yet can't see it for what it is.  We think we're so normal, so healthy.  And in so many ways, we are.  Then there are the ways and the times, we aren't.  We know we're sick because we hurt and then hurt each other.

There used to be an advertisement in the back pages of comic books where you could buy a pair of x-ray glasses.  Now, I never bought them but I always wondered did they work.

The 12 Steps give me a new pair of glasses that work.   I "see" people, places and things in a different way, a new light.  I "see" myself in a different way.  A kinder, softer, forgiving, generous way.  I was hard on myself, intolerant, rigid and this, in turn, was how I treated my loved ones as if they were an extension of me. The program has taught me how to detach in a loving way.  My children are separate from me in a healthier way instead of being cut-off, criticized, abandoned, judged, etc.  I kept waiting for my mom to get better but I found out it was in my best interest to apply myself to this program no matter what and to ":Let it begin with me".   In this way, my children won't have to wait so long for me to extend a peace offering.  They, too, have been affected by this family disease and my heart goes out to them.  They didn't ask for this, neither did I, nor my mother, nor you, nor your mother, etc.

I love the 12 Steps and also the book of "Alcoholics Anonymous" where Bill W. was somehow, someway, at the perfect time and place to synthesize/integrate Dr. Silkworth's medical perspective about the physical phenomena of craving triggered by the first drink preceded by a strange mental twist or idea "this time it'll be different" that didn't work by itself to recover nor did Dr. Bob's spiritual perspective of the Steps leading to a Higher Power.  It took both.  Hand in hand.

On page 164, "Alcoholics Anonymous", it says, "Our book is meant to be suggestive only. We realize we know only a little. God will constantly disclose more to you and to us. Ask Him in your morning meditation what you can do each day for the man who is still sick. The answers will come, if your own house is in order. But obviously you cannot transmit something you haven't got. See to it that your relationship with Him is right, and great events will come to pass for you and countless others...."

And so it is today for me.  HOW to work this program is Honest, Open-minded, Willingness. One day at a time.  It does get better.  Sincerely, Carol xoxox

Could Restore us to Sanity

Growing up the way I did made a huge impact on me.  The denial system was pervasive not only at home but also in the extended family and spread  out further and further.  Not only in space, also in time.

All my relationships skewed by my "need" to wear the  spacesuit of denial on Earth and this was normal, fitting-in, being nice, people-pleasing, trying to be on the inside how I thought others were but come to find-out that's what most of them were doing, too.  I learned to do this.

I remember times when I was a little girl feeling happy, joyous and free.  Skipping on the sidewalk, playing hopscotch, and running just to feel the air against my face, long hair swishing back and forth, pounding heart beat my chest, and my young strong legs leaping, pumping, stretching just for the heck of it.  Racing home.  And on a good day, the smell of fresh cooked tortillas wafting through the neighborhood actually came from my house.  My little heart swelled with love, gratitude and pride.  My mom was sober, or not fixating on dad's absence, and there was enough money to buy flour.  The smell of Pine-sol and tortillas.  This was a reality I embraced and held close to my heart.  All was well with my soul.  It wasn't much but I felt wonderful and blessed.

The insanity was in the denial of the truth.  The truth was both my parents were afflicted with addiction.  One to heroin, the other to alcohol and codependent.  Their obsessive, compulsive fixations spun in the usual control, release, guilt/shame, control, release, guilt/shame cycle to seek relief as it grew worse and worse.  The physical phenomena of craving triggered by the insanity of the strange mental blank spot that preempts the first drink, pill, argument, donut, touch, gamble, etc.  Therein lies the insanity.  We "forget".

As I grew up, I told myself I didn't ever want to be like my mother.  I looked down on her, secretly scorning her, disrespecting everything about her.  I grew up to be a lot more like her than I ever cared to admit.   I, too, grew up to be an alcoholic and codependent.  Acting-out left and right but denying it all the way until I hit bottom in 1993.  Tit for tat.  Jeesh.  Another layer of insanity.

Thinking I was so normal to be so ill.  Until I hit bottom.  Reality presented itself.  The truth is I need a Power greater than me to help me.  And that Power cannot be me.   Plus I am the one who must seek out, then open the door to invite this Higher Power into my heart, mind, soul, and life.  On page 61 of "Alcoholics Anonymous", it says "... our personal adventures before and after make clear three pertinent ideas: (a) That we were alcoholic and could not manage our own lives. (b) That probably no human power could have relieved our alcoholism. (c) That God could and would if He were sought."

I substitute the words of "alcohol" with the current challenge I'm addressing.  Also, instead of using "he" to refer to God sometimes I use "God".  It takes what it takes until I can make it to the other side.

There are times now, in this program, where I feel happy, joyous and free.  Liberated from the bondage of self, of carrying the load consisting of self-centeredness, selfishness, dishonesty, etc.  I turn it all over to my Higher Power.  I let go and let GOD.  One day at a time.  Sincerely, Carol xoxox

Sponsorship booklet, etc.

One of my AA friends, Denise, sent me a text asking if by any chance I had the sponsorship book by Hamilton B.  So I found it at Amazon.com and downloaded it to my Kindle just now.

Also I did an Internet search and found this:

Sponsorship booklet

You know, I've heard that opinions are like a-holes, everybody pretty much has one.  As I write these blogs I hope you, the reader, takes everything I write as a point of view from my experience in recovery.  In other words I am not an expert, etc.  I'm just like you, another human being wanting to stay on the path to the Sunlight of the Spirit.  I l-o-v-e to think, read, hear, talk about the 12 Steps.  Most especially to walk them because of where they take me.  Every time.

Seems to me the big deal about the Steps is the goal is to get better by helping others get better..so I need to do the work and pass it on.  ;)

To be continued...Sincerely, Carol xoxox

A Power Greater than our Selves

The conflict about a Higher Power comes up inevitably in some way or another.  For me, the realizations throughout the years is I bestowed designated persons, places or things with the honor or dishonor of being my Higher Power.  Apparently I'm not unique.  How many of us have made alcohol, drugs, food, sex, another person (spouse, significant other, children, grandchildren, etc.), money, anger, intellect, _______(fill in the blank) etc. our Higher Power?   I know a lot of the time I just can't see it.  I'm standing way too close to the tree and can't see the forest.

I no sooner stop giving my power away then immediately give it to somebody or something else.  Jeesh.  I notice I give it away the moment I'm reacting.

react  (rɪˈækt)
— vb  (foll by against )
1.	( intr ; foll by  to, upon etc ) (of a person or thing) to act inresponse to another person, a stimulus, etc, or (of two peopleor things) to act together in a certain way
2.	to act in an opposing or contrary manner
3.	( intr ) physics  to exert an equal force in the oppositedirection to an acting force
4.	chem  to undergo or cause to undergo a chemical reaction

The 12 Steps are about taking action, not reaction.  The action I'm taking is consciously, deliberately choosing to connect to a Higher Power by working the Steps instead of reacting when I'm stimulated to react in the same old way, whatever it is.  Whether it's compulsively spending money, drinking alcohol or Pepsi, taking a pain pill, fixating on the past, taking other people's inventory, comparing them to me, gossiping, getting in the last word, a compulsive need to be right or to defend, raging, crying "poor me" or whatever other discharge comes to mind.

So...

Who or what is my Higher Power?  I, only I, can make this choice, this decision.

I heard one person say the only way he could see his Higher Power was as energy, like electricity---you don't really have to know how it works to flip a light switch.  Another one said for the longest time her shower curtain was her Higher Power.  She said she would drop the seat down on the toilet, sit on it then talk at length to the shower curtain. Many have said when they go to a meeting that the group is their Higher Power.

For me, my Higher Power is holding the moon and the stars up in the sky.  My Higher Power is the glue that holds us all together.  From the largest to the very, very smallest sub-atomic, quantum nano-second, multi-verse possibility.  My Higher Power is greater, smarter, quicker, stronger, etc. than me or you.  And it loves us all.   I submit to this Higher Power I choose to call "GOD".  This is who I pray to...my Creator from whence I came and will return to.

Came to Believe In

Growing up I remember hearing GOD was going to punish me for things I did, like talk back to my mom, hit my sibling, etc.  I feared GOD and the idea of GOD.  I wondered if GOD was real then where was he?  As far as I know my father never went to church, ever.  My mother might have but I never saw it.  I remember hearing "GOD this" and "GOD that" when she ranted and raved her frustrated anger in cursing.  "What has He ever done for me?", she screamed.  "F*** GOD."

One day we, the children, were dressed up then transported to Christo Rey Catholic Church because of a funeral.  My Aunt Polly had a baby that died.  It had lived a few days.  A lot of people there were dressed in black and their faces seemed grim, sad, bleak.  Tragic. We were ushered in and seated on a long pew.  What caught my attention was a huge cross where a man was nailed.  There was blood on his head, hands, side and crossed feet.  I felt transfixed but couldn't stand looking at such a terrible thing as this man's obvious pain.  I kept my head bowed and looked sideways to see other people's reactions but no one else appeared to really care as my little heart pounded in grief and fear for him, hoping someone would take him down, but people acted like it was no big deal.  Plus the huge cavernous grandeur of the church seemed so incongruent with  the almost naked, skinny dying man on the cross.  The flickering candles cast light on the rich gleaming gold trimmings of the altar, the long dark maroon shrouded velvet draperies and the echoes of the priest's Latin intermingled with Sanish mystical chanting all mixed with the smells of incense.  This made quite an impression on me and I felt sure I didn't want to come back.  It was a scary place and I didn't feel comfortable.  I didn't fit in.

There was another time when my hillbilly Grandma Smith was invited to go visit a church in Montopolis and I went with her.  The church was packed to the gills with white people.  The friendliness, excitement, and animated hellos were nice until the preacher started his sermon.  He began kind of quiet then before long he was shouting and people reacted.  They started raising their hands, yelling "Praise GOD!"  "Lordy, oh yes, Jeeeeeesus!", "Halleluah!", "Amen!" as tambourines shook in quick rattles like a snake.  Which in turn got that preacher even more fired-up, his face all red and mottled, sweat pouring down his face, his hair wet and clinging to his head as he raised his fist and smashed it down on the podium.  Then the crowd swelled in hysteria as scattered here and there were screams, people talking in tongues, falling out, fainting, melting to the ground or running around.  Chaos.   Pretty scary.  Yep.   I felt extremely uncomfortable and like I didn't fit in.  To be honest, it felt more like when I was at home except without the physical violence.

By the time I left home and became a ward of the state my belief system was pretty shaky.  I did send up a prayer or two once in a while...just in case.

I was initially placed at a ranch in Leander, Texas run by Mr. and Mrs. Hart.  I do believe they were "good", "god-fearing" people and a requirement for all the children staying there was going to the local 1st Baptist church EVERY Sunday.  Wow.  From no church to every Sunday was quite a switch.  So we all piled in the back of the truck which had a wooden plank on each side where we huddled together.  It was breathlessly hot, dusty and uncomfortable during the summer then bone-chilling, teeth-chattering, blue lips cold uncomfortable in the winter as we bumped down those country roads leading to the church.  Quiet, polite decorum.  Organ music.  People dressed in their Sunday best.  The preacher preached not so hysterically but pretty much the same message I'd heard before of GOD's punishing wrath and fury on the unrepentant sinner.  So I repented every Sunday.  Until finally I responded to the invitational  and was "saved".  The following Sunday night I  was baptized at that church.

I really don't know how many times I've been "saved" or baptized or in how many churches.  I church-hopped pretty much how I later bar-hopped in my drinking career.  I went to Catholic, Baptist, Methodist, Unitarian, Pentecostal,  studied with the Jehovah's Witnesses, the Mormans of Latter Day Saints, etc.  I really wanted to "find" GOD and instead just felt odd.  Like I didn't fit in.

Until I arrived in the rooms of the 12 Steps.  This is where I finally found my Higher Power.  Not scripted by all those others who tried to choke GOD down my throat, who used GOD's name in vain to control, dominate or hurt.  Or so it seemed to me.  Until I  came home where I belong with others, like me, who have struggled to make sense of the insanity.  I fit in.  At last.

Prior to my recovery in the 12 Steps I had closed my mind to GOD, churches, religious folk, etc.  I threw out the baby with the bath water.  It says in the book of "Alcoholics Anonymous", page 87, "Be quick to see where religious people are right."  I have learned to keep an open mind...I just might hear and learn something I really need to know.  I've learned to love my Higher Power.  Now I can say, "Thank GOD" and really mean it.  Sincerely, Carol xoxox

 

Came to

I had a hard time in coming to believe because first I had to come here. I had to arrive.  I was s-l-o-w in accepting there really was a Higher Power.  A lot of this was because of my inability to believe I even had a problem so huge that the only solution was Divine Intervention.  So I learned to act "as if" I believed.  I'd felt phony most of my life and it was hard to embrace "as if" but for this alcoholic it takes what it takes.

I was slammed, dunked and punk-slapped into believing.  King Alcohol brought me down to my knees.  It whopped my butt, beat me to the ground as it led with a sucker punch.  I love to hear Don C. describe the phenomena of the Royal butt-whipping that I can relate to.  The one that woke me up from my unconscious coma-like state, lifeless limbo status of drinking, using, etc.  It hurt so bad, I arrived in a pretty battered condition to the rooms as I came to.

 Don C., a Native American Indian

What a gift to have the privilege to hear his description so eloquently articulated.  I am deeply, profoundly grateful to all those brave souls who reach out valiantly to share their experience, strength and hope.

I wanted to "know", analyze, critique, improve, embellish, personalize, etc.  The language in my head.  A dangerous neighborhood---not a good place for me to be in---where the illness resides.   This is what I knew.

But I had to learn a new way, a new language because the 12 Steps program is in the language of the heart.

What I found-out was the most important thing for me to do was to follow the Steps precisely as laid out in the big book of "Alcoholics Anonymous".   It requires courage, discipline and commitment of which this alcoholic falls short of but the Higher Power can help me.  On page 163, "...you have just now tapped a source of power much greater than yourself. To duplicate, with such backing, what we have accomplished is only a matter of willingness, patience and labor. "

Willingness...I have this as long as I remember the above-mentioned Royal Butt-whipping.  I want to avoid ever having to go through that again in this lifetime, so help me GOD!
Patience...I'm really not the most patient person I know but I'm learning and growing in this area-this program is about progress, not perfection
Labor...it's a labor of love to take care of myself, my program and not only helps me but also affects my loved ones, my job, etc.

Step 1...

The Prison, I mean, Prism (Freudian slip)

I live with an illness that requires I take daily action of treatment to keep it in remission.  I believe it is incurable.  I will have it until the day I die.  My treatment is the 12 Steps program which addresses this spiritual malady.  It's said working the program is the easier, softer way.  I believe it.

I have years and years of experience living in the disease and even though today my life may not be perfect, it's better than before when I had no clue on how to live Life on Life's terms.  Forcing solutions, acting as if I was the solution to mine and other people's problems, etc.

What fascinates me about this spiritual malady is how multifaceted it is, like a prism, a crystal spinning, spewing, scattering, and splitting a full spectrum of light into separate distinct problems but all coming from one source.  I think I got a lot of problems but it turns out there are even more, more, more which stem from one.
 
I seem to have the uncanny ability with this keen intellectual mind to complicate the heck out of things.  Working the Steps helps me stop doing this.  I learn to rely on a single source, one solution to all my problems, no matter how little or big.  The Higher Power is the solution every time.  The Steps lead me to where I need to be...connected to my H.P.

There is a reason there are 12 Steps and a reason they are numbered.  It's suggested to work them in order (except the 11th Step can be worked at any time) and to work ALL of them.  LOL  Now, if only I remember that when I need it most!  Sincerely, Carol  xoxox

We

Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. 
Albert Einstein 


Sometimes, it seems to me, insanity is contagious.  Who was crazy first?  Who started it?  It's like the age-old question of which came first, the chicken or the egg.   I used to take full responsibility, like it was all my fault.  Fully convinced there must be something wrong with me, unable to accept the truth, spiraling into a deep depression from anger expressed outward that was crushed back down inward and left bemused, confused, confounded in wondering what happened?

What is the truth that I have such a hard time accepting at times?  That it's not either right or wrong, good or bad, black or white, this or that.  I have a hard time stretching to see the multifaceted, gradient shades, neutral hues.  I want it to be how I see it.  My perspective.  Period.  Non-negotiable.

That's fine, as far as I am concerned but breaks down where others are involved because we all have our own perspectives.  In my family of origin, this was not allowed, promoted or tolerated.  To express a difference of opinion was considered extremely hostile behavior and an attack on the family system itself which must survive at all costs.  At the cost of self-expression and differences of perspective.

The 12 Steps help me keep an open mind and heart to learning a new, different way to live life.  I'm a slow learner but once I get it, I really got it.  Yeah!  A big gift is how the Steps help expand my consciousness and willingness to accept a whole new multifaceted world.  It's not all about me, me, me.   It's about "WE"...evidenced by the first word in the first Step, "We".

Blind Men and the Elephant

poem by John Godfrey Saxe (1816–1887)

It was six men of Indostan
To learning much inclined,
Who went to see the Elephant(Though all of them were blind),
That each by observation
Might satisfy his mind

The First approached the Elephant,
And happening to fall
Against his broad and sturdy side,
At once began to bawl:
“God bless me! but the Elephant's very like a wall!”

The Second, feeling of the tusk,
Cried, “Ho! what have we here
So very round and smooth and sharp?
To me ’tis mighty clear
This wonder of an Elephant
Is very like a spear!”

The Third approached the animal,
And happening to take
The squirming trunk within his hands,
Thus boldly up and spake:
“I see,” quoth he, “the Elephant
Is very like a snake!

The Fourth reached out an eager hand,
And felt about the knee.
“What most this wondrous beast is like
Is mighty plain,” quoth he;
” ‘Tis clear enough the Elephant's very like a tree!”

The Fifth, who chanced to touch the ear,
Said: “E’en the blindest man
Can tell what this resembles most;
Deny the fact who can
This marvel of an Elephant
Is very like a fan!”

The Sixth no sooner had begun
About the beast to grope,
Than, seizing on the swinging tail
That fell within his scope,
“I see,” quoth he, “the Elephant
Is very like a rope!”

And so these men of Indostan
Disputed loud and long,
Each in his own opinion
Exceeding stiff and strong,
Though each was partly in the right,
And all were in the wrong!

It's about Progress, not Perfection

Thankfully.  It's about progress, not perfection.  I am far from perfect, make plenty of mistakes, drop the ball, flounder once in awhile, get off track, swerve off the straight and narrow, or whatever else it can be called.  Some of the things I l-o-v-e are the acceptance and forgiveness built-in the 12 Step's program.  If and when I do make a mistake, instead of a chance to punish myself or others, it is an opportunity to work the Steps and strengthen the spiritual muscles.  Again and again.

My experience is the quicker I pick up the tools, the quicker I get in the solution, the quicker I am where I need to be...walking hand-in-hand with my Higher Power.

My daughter and son-in-law flew in Friday night.  I thought they were coming back Sunday night and I was supposed to be their ride from the airport.  Jeesh. Talk about dropping the ball!  Plus they kept calling me and my phone was on vibrate.   They called Sho but his phone was in the bedroom while he was watching TV in the living room.  Finally he checked his voicemail then informed me about their arrival.  I scrambled to get dressed and went to pick them up.

Pre-program my reaction and response would be to blame me or them for things not going smoothly.  Fingerpointing, guilt trips,and shaming in playing the blame game.  Somebody would have to pay for any mistake, error, sin. Today what is different is I accept my part in any mis-communication or mis-step...not theirs...mine.  And I own it instead of smearing it around.  Jeesh.  Plus I quit holding my breath waiting for others to take responsibility.  That is none of my business.  It's between them and their Higher Power.  What a relief!  I'm very busy cleaning up my side of the street instead of judging, criticizing, controlling, dominating, pointing out other people's character defects, taking their inventory, etc.

Well, Stitch went home.  Already we miss him but I''m glad to get some sleep.  Now it's just Elvis waking me up.

Still, what a privilege to be here, on this Earth, at this time...one day at a time, sometimes one minute at a time, and most certainly, one step at a time...Sincerely, Carol xoxox
 

Happy and What the bleep do we know?

I'm still in the fast lane but, God-willing and the creek don't rise, things will calm down soon...in a good way.  In the meantime the plan is to keep working the Steps the best I can.  No matter how imperfectly I work them, somehow someway, it all works out however it's supposed to.

Yesterday I watched "Happy" and "What the bleep do we know".  Wow.  Fantastic.  I really enjoyed the conversations.  Uplifting and interesting.  As good as any other and will probably watch them again.  Very informative.

Step 1...

Breathe, Relax, Let go and Let GOD

Well, I missed writing the blog yesterday...so many things to do...this, too, shall pass.

I'm grieving.  A person I know told me she had a 2006 Toyota Corolla to sell, been garaged, new tires, she used to drive it BUT she gave it to her 18 year old son who moved out of state and the reason the car stayed was because it died on him when he was driving it.  So I had my son help me look and tinker with it, put plugs in it, etc...finally I wrote down the VIN to do an Internet search for possible known problems of this kind of car and now I know the car I ended up seeing was a different car than the picture text she'd sent because the license plate wasn't the same plus this one is a 2003.  Rather disconcerting.  Jeesh.  Bless and release it.  I wish her the very best.

Anyway, in the morning I go pickup and drive my grandchildren to school.  It's nice to see them.

Stitch and Elvis continue to take turns in going outside.

For now, I'm hunkered in the one day, one moment, one step at a time mode and no matter what I know GOD 's got it covered....breathe, relax, let go....

and that our lives were unmanageable

If I looked superficially at my life I glossed over any problems, swept them under the rug, threw them in the back of the closet, and stuffed them in the dirty clothes hamper hidden from view.  Denial serves a purpose.

For me, the unmanageability was on the inside---like the seething, roiling molten bubbling hot lava of a smoldering volcano.  The ever-mixture of---to name a few---hurt, anger, rage, fear, anxiety, blaming, shaming, despair, frustration, criticism, sarcasm, no  forgiveness, complacency, deceptions, lies, emotional and mental disruptiveness, mood swings, violent verbal or physical outbursts, guilt-stricken, ingratitude, dishonesty, arrogance, false pride, hopelessness, grim lack of humor, unhappiness, martyrdom, immaturity, restlessness, impatience, closed-minded, perfectionism, procrastination, irresponsibility, pretending it will all go away by itself, burning resentment, gripping self-control or lack thereof, self-deception, low self-esteem, joyless, willfulness, feeling unattractive, lack of commitment, unkept promises, diminished self-respect, selfishness, tension, walking on eggshells, vengeful, abusive,, nonacceptance, inaction, analyzing, diagnosing, giving advice, inability to ask for help, unaware, unbalanced, lack of boundaries, bossy, caretaking, rigid attitudes, comparing, disapproval, confused, afraid, chaotic crisis, defensiveness, depression, over attached, disappointment, negativity, doubtful, enabling, expectations, grandiosity, inferiority, insecurity, self-centeredness, depending on others to do what I am perfectly capable of doing for myself, fantasy, illusions, delusions, forcing solutions, gossiping, grieving, alone, isolation, judgmental  loneliness, unloved, obsessive, pain, people-pleasing, one-sided perspective, powerlessness, risky behaviors, craziness, secrets, rejection, neglect, deprivations, self-hate, self-ignorance, self-pity, self-will, self-abuse, silence, intolerant, accepting unacceptable behavior, co-signing other people's inappropriateness, playing the victim, persecutor or rescuer roles, always waiting, worrying, fretting, living in the future, hostage to the past, distrustful, lack of faith---covered by an ever-mixture of multiple, valiant, doomed-to-failure efforts to control, contain, repress, suppress and deny.  At all costs, keep it all inside and squash it down.  Deny, deny, deny.

We admitted we were Powerless over

The first word is "WE"....not "me".  I, I, I, me, me, me.  Also....not "You"... like I'm waiting for you to admit your powerlessness or at the very least, let me rush to help you admit your powerlessness.  Isolation, social withdrawal, loneliness are major symptoms of my illness.  "WE" happens when I go to a meeting, listen to an on-line speaker meeting, or pick up the phone to connect with another human being.  This is a critical part of my recovery.

Admitted...the way I was raised, to admit to anything was just asking for it.  Are you kidding?  However, to broadcast, gossip, misrepresent, put-down, malign, character assassinate, cross-out and admit someone else's  stuff was lauded and applauded.  Blame, shame, faultfinding, and fingerpointing at others was survival.  Now, I'm willing to "own" my stuff...not anyone else's.

Powerless...I had a really hard time with this word.  For me, I had to sit down and write a list of what I was powerless over and in what I did have power.  Here's some...

•  I cannot change the past
• I cannot cause, control, cure someone's compulsions or way of being
• I cannot hand health, happiness, sobriety, etc. to others, that's between them and their H.P.
• I cannot make everything smooth, easy, effortless for them.  I am not the solution to other people's problems
• I cannot reach inside other people  to force them to do what I want them to do
• I cannot make them change.  I have no authority or power over any other human being to control their attitudes, beliefs, compulsions, force them to want, etc.
• I can detach myself from the idea that I alone can control and solve another's problem
• I can pray for the wisdom to realize progress begins only when I'm ready to detach
• I can buckle down and learn a different way where I really believe in and practice the Steps
• I can learn to Let Go and Let God

• I can surrender to the idea that I really don't know how to handle the _____situation correctly.  (Alcoholic, gambling, compulsive under/over eating, etc.)
• I can learn to relieve myself of feeling responsible for the _____.  (Alcoholic, gambler, my grown children, my parents, my significant other, the past, etc.)
• I can recognize I am not other people's Higher Power and neither are they mine.
•  I can embrace and acknowledge my human limitations
• I can admit there are problems I cannot cope with alone
• I can admit I need help
• I can pray to acquire the habit of listening and to think about what I'm hearing
• I can learn the use of silence
• I can use and limit my words to what might be of service to others
• I can see how I contribute to the illness and stop contributing
• I can stop trying to control the uncontrollable
• I can connect to my Higher Power that gives me the power to change my life
• I can accept the fact of a situation then decide what to do about it
• I can learn to recognize and correct my mistaken attempts to force a solution
• I can find peace of mind within myself with the H.P.'s power, guidance, strength, grace
• I can lighten my load by dropping that part of it which doesn't belong to me by looking close at my thoughts, feelings and impulses then taking action only as required of me.
• I can learn to mind my own business.
• I can learn the only sure way out of all my difficulties---the spiritual way

• I can learn to pause, relax, accept, go along with, cooperate and receive the freedom from strain and conflict...without co-signing the B.S.
• I can learn to surrender completely instead of just submitting ("to the practical fact I cannot at the moment conquer reality but lurking in the back of my mind,is the feeling..."maybe one day..."  a paraphrase from one of the daily meditation books).
• I can learn to handle my affairs wisely....my affairs are my relationships with people, places and things.  For instance, my money, my lovelife, my family, my past, etc.
• I can learn to dedicate myself to managing my own life, and only mine by surrendering the illusionary reins of control over other human beings and keep the focus on my life, responsibilities, etc.
• I can learn recovery is a selfish program. 
• I can learn the Steps, Traditions, slogans and practice applying them to myself, my life
• I can learn "Let it begin with me" instead of waiting for others to change
• I can learn new habits of thinking and believing by replacing old destructive, learned patterns
• I can learn to evaluate my own actions and to value my own judgment 
• I can love others and that is enough without "rescuing" 
• I can choose to place my trust in the Higher Power and know all is well
• I can pray and meditate every day in an effort to start my day by connecting with my H.P.

Story #22

Yesterday was the first time I've been able to really work on cleaning and de-cluttering my room!  I'm so excited!  By the end of the day I could barely walk so I did some of the stretches and exercises taught by the physical therapist.  This is a great accomplishment because up to now it hurt to sit and it hurt to stand, much less do housework.  I used to have to stop whatever I was doing after 10-15 minutes, stretch or rest, then return to the task.  I took breaks yesterday but not so many and was very successful in my efforts.  I am healing and truly grateful.  I can s-m-i-l-e.  Whoopie!

As I look to my recovery strengthening, growing in depth, kindness, and peace I grow in acceptance in working the 12 Steps program.  My willingness to be quick to see where others are "right" or at least have a point of view is expanding.  Yeah! Anyway, I found this Zen blogspot which is pretty neat, interesting.  http://101-zen-stories.blogspot.com/  This is story #22.

MY HEART BURNS LIKE FIRE

Soyen Shaku, the first Zen teacher to come to America, said: "My heart burns like fire but my eyes are as cold as dead ashes." He made the following rules which he practiced every day of his life.

• In the morning before dressing, light incense and meditate.


• Retire at a regular hour.


• Partake of food at regular intervals. Eat with moderation and never to the point of satisfaction.


• Receive a guest with the same attitude you have when alone. When alone, maintain the same attitude you have in receiving guests.


• Watch what you say, and whatever you say, practice it.


• When an opportunity comes do not let it pass you by, yet always think twice before acting.


• Do not regret the past. Look to the future.


• Have the fearless attitude of a hero and the loving heart of a child.


• Upon retiring, sleep as if you had entered your last sleep. Upon awakening, leave your bed behind you instantly as if you had cast away a pair of old shoes.

Stop wearing the Mask to cover The Pain

I l-o-v-e listening to Salvador Valdez. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YUH6DRIgeqo&feature=related   He describes so clearly the long term after-effects of being involved with an alcoholic.  Whether it is growing up around, being in love, working alongside or  around an alcoholic can be devastating...and we don't not even realize it.

Til the pain sets in. And spreads.  It does not stay contained.  It spreads like peanut butter.  It not only affects me but it affects everybody around me.  Cunning, powerful and baffling.  Denial is incredibly powerful.

"I'm fine.  My children are fine.  See how we all smile and act fine?", I say with the greatest of confidence.  I cover up my feelings, get a grip on my emotions, white knuckle indeed.  My mask in place.  As the parent, I lead the way.  I model the behavior, teaching my children by example the unspoken rule.  Unspeakable even to myself.

The unspoken rule is, "Cover the pain.  Deny, deny, deny.  And smile while you do this.  Never let on just how deeply you hurt."  I mean, what would the world be like if we were authentically expressing our feelings instead of repressing, suppressing, depressing and compressing them down deep inside?  Until it hurts to feel them and it hurts to express them?

I learned, just like I taught my children, to wear the mask.  What hurt more than feelings was being taught to wear a mask in the first place.  The indignity.  The assault on the True Self was incredibly hurtful.

Freedom from the pain is freedom from the bondage of self.  Freedom from having to wear the mask of the adapted Self.  No body is "making" me wear it any longer.  I learned so well to wear the mask at all costs that now I wear it automatically.  It's as if I lived on the moon or Mars as a child and I was taught my survival depended on wearing a spacesuit with helmet, oxygen tank strapped to my back, and space shoes at all times to survive in that low gravity, airless environment or I would die without it.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R6wxp3Z_zks  Now I'm on Earth and no longer need the spacesuit but I have a hard time letting it go.  This is what I'm used to.  This is what I know.  I fear I might die without it.   I keep putting on my spacesuit.  I'm afraid to let it go.  I am doing it to me.  No one else is putting it on me any more than what I allow.  I give them permission.  I volunteer. I give my power away.  I wear it. But now, I'm not on the moon anymore and the spacesuit is too heavy and it hurts more than it helps.  It no longer does for me what it used to do.  I must let it go.

What is amazing about the pain is the potential for change.  What a great motivator!  I hurt enough and I become willing to do anything I can to stop the pain.  When I think of the enormity of what happened to me and I think about how inadvertently this was passed on to my precious, lovely, gifted children I feel a strong commitment to my recovery.  To not only learn to stop wearing the mask.  To stop it.

As a parent and a grandparent I make a living amends to the younger ones when I work the Steps, the Traditions, stay connected to my Higher Power, do the work...one day at a time...stay true to the course...I help lead the way when I stop wearing the mask and be who I really am, a child of GOD, just like you are..100% loving and lovable, beautiful, talented, gifted, blessed, of exceptional value to the world,etc...Step 1...Sincerely, Carol xoxox

Not a victim---a volunteer

I'm picking up my grandchildren on Tuesday, Thursday and Friday mornings from now on...or I might need to renegotiate this.  Plus I'm dogsitting Stitch for a week.  I'm w-w-ay off my usual sleep pattern.  First Elvis was waking me up now they are taking turns, like changing of the guards except it's changing of the dogs.  I dare not let them out together...so one comes back inside then the other strolls out.  Jeesh.  At this point I am not a victim, I am a volunteer.

Since this is temporary I know this, too, will pass.  Early this morning as I drove the grandchildren to school, I saw a sign at a church that said, "Dear Lord, please help me have a good attitude today."  I agree.  Step 1...

"Me"

You know, today the biggest problem I have is "me".  The monkey on my back is "me".  No matter what I say, no matter what I do, no matter where I go, there I am.  I read in the BB, the big book of Alcoholics Anonymous, on page 103, the last paragraph, "After all, our problems were of our own making.  Bottles (or pills, or compulsive sex, food, gambling, or just fill in the blank__________) were only a symbol.  Besides, we have stopped fighting anybody or anything.  We have to."

I forget.

Next thing I know, I have my gloves on with my hands clinched-up, a fighting stance, back in the fray.  Don't even notice I'm lying...mainly to myself.  Jeesh.  Until I get that Royal Ass-whipping, demoralization...the Gift of Desperation that humbles me, makes me ready to accept I am not running the show.  Submit.  Let Go and Let God.  One more time. Stop fighting....even stop fighting "me".  Embrace "me".

Step 1...

Helping hands

Today I'm scheduled to go to physical therapy early this morning so my blog is very short.  Instead of writing anything, I found this story online that I want to pass on:

Helping hands

A mother, wishing to encourage her son's progress at the piano, bought tickets to a performance by the great Polish pianist Ignace Paderewski. When the evening arrived, they found their seats near the front of the concert hall and eyed the majestic Steinway waiting on the stage. Soon the mother found a friend to talk to, and the boy slipped away.

At eight o'clock, the lights in the auditorium began to dim, the spotlights came on, and only then did they notice the boy - up on the piano bench, innocently picking out "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star." His mother gasped in shock and embarrassment but, before she could retrieve her son, the master himself appeared on the stage and quickly moved to the keyboard.

He whispered gently to the boy, "Don't quit. Keep playing."

Leaning over, Paderewski reached down with his left hand and began filling in the bass part. Soon his right arm reached around the other side and improvised a delightful obligato. Together, the old master and the young novice held the crowd mesmerized with their blended and beautiful music.

In all our lives, we receive helping hands - some we notice, some we don't. Equally we ourselves have countless opportunities to provide helping hands - sometimes we would like our assistance to be noticed, sometimes we don't. Little of what we all achieve is without learning from others and without support from others and what we receive we should hand out.

from http://www.rogerdarlington.me.uk/stories.html#Story25


Thank you for all your help and support that you provide to those who need you.  GOD bless and keep you.  You're awesome!  Sincerely, Carol xoxox

The long, long road

Well...yesterday when I was writing the blog I kept thinking, "Hmmm, I wonder if I go to physical therapy today?  Nah. I think it's tomorrow, October the second."  This happened a couple of times, shrugged it off.  Finished blogging then went to prepare breakfast.

Cut up and sauteed some onion, mushroom, a bit of hot green chile, stirred in a couple of egg whites and finally some spinach leaves.  Enjoyed breakfast.  Heard the phone ring but missed the call.  Later I checked the voicemail message.  It was the therapist.  I'd missed my appointment.

Wow.  I just fell apart.  I immediately called her back.  I blubbered and cried, grief stricken because the sessions are really helping me and to miss one is unacceptable.  I need all the help I can get and for me to not do what I need to do is just about unforgivable. I felt demolished by the self-castigation which is what hurt the worst.  The negative feelings were like a tsunami with overwhelming intensity, ruthlessly washing over me.  The wreck on July 31st feels like it's still happening to me.  Jeesh.  What a victim role I play!  Grrrr.  

Anyway, the therapist re-scheduled me to go in at 2pm.  I went to the session and it made all the difference in the world.  I felt awesome.  Soothed and roughed up at the same time.  Amazing.  And no matter what...I still showed up.

One thing I've heard is when we quit drinking, we feel better.  Yes. It's true.  We feel all our feelings better, stronger, much more authentically.  The problem is what to do with them?  How to embrace, manage and cope with all my feelings effectively without stuffing, suppressing, distorting, contorting, denying, repressing, etc. or "using"/"acting out"?  Also I've noticed how I try to dull the affect of negative feelings which in turn dulls my happy feelings.  One affects the other.  Jeesh.  Dear Higher Power, I hand this all over to You.  Do with me as You Will that I may best serve You and those who can benefit from my efforts, however inept and imperfectly, to live life authentically.  Love, Carol xoxox