Are you familiar with the term 'geographic cure'? It's when you believe that a change of residence will 'cure' your addiction to any substance, or your poor lifestyle choices, or your out-of-control gambling/spending/shopping/eating/sex/whatever habits, and instantly give you new, much better for you friends and a new life.
In all fairness, sometimes a move can certainly help the situation, especially if you move to a place where you have few, if any, ties, and you are utterly committed to changing what brought you down in the first place.
But most of the time it doesn't work very well.
Because the issues you want to escape are internal ones, perhaps manifested outwardly by your choice of friends, your habits, your living situation. Change the scenery you may, but changing the interior issues is not as easy, and it is often lonely and discouraging (at first) work.
No matter where you go, there you are.
That appears to be the case with R, alas. The geography change wasn't very far, in the first place,and within a week of her move, she has invited a friend back into her life who is herself struggling with several issues and has a following of questionable friends. Evidence appearing this week seems to indicate that R's 'fresh start' is little more than a change in residence and furnishings.
So it's a reminder that I can save only one life: my own. It's a reminder that I cannot fix anyone except myself. It's a reminder that I need to work my own program, one day at a time, focusing on 'what is' rather than 'what I would like it to be' or even 'what I am afraid it is.'
Our minds are powerful: I can imagine scenarios and create fear and generate worry with nothing more than a handful of observations. I can cause sleepless nights and churning stomach and lump-in-the-throat anxiety.
But I can also focus on the here and now, one moment at a time, and on what is in my own life: a beautiful day, an engaging book, a good yoga workout, a few good friends who listen and soothe, and remember that I am powerless over people, places, and things. I do not have to live with imagined consequences of another's choices.
My daughter has her own path, her own journey, to take care of, and I have mine. I have no responsibility for hers, and I will not sacrifice my own life and my journey. That is a choice I make daily, and that is the most loving thing I can do for both of us. God is not finished with her yet, and she is stronger than she may think she is.
Showing posts with label addiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label addiction. Show all posts
Saturday, January 25, 2014
Tuesday, December 17, 2013
Reverb 13, Day 16:
1. Habits and addictions, some are silly, some serious; when we
have issues without answers, they can hold us so tight that we stop
moving forward with the life we intended.
Were you able to loosen those fetters this year, and if you
were successful, how did you manage it? Did you accept outside help, or
work alone?
If you still feel that grasp of addiction or hurtful habits, what will you do differently in the year to come?
2. 1,000 Words
| There's the old saying that a photo is worth 1,000 words. Give us a
photo with that impact that sums up some significant even of your 2013,
or give us 1,000 words about a pivotal moment in 2013.
1. While I have issues without answers, I suppose, I don't really classify them as 'addictions' or 'habits.' I am no stranger to either, mind you, but they also are old, old news.
I have indeed taken steps in 2013 to address things that have occupied far more mind time than I really want to spend thinking about them, and will continue that process into 2014.
For those who are battling addiction to anything, get help. A 12-step program is available for just about any possible issue these days, especially in California where everyone has a 12-step story. And it works as long as you work it.
2. This is not my photo, but I have an xray that looks almost identical. My triple arthrodesis recovery was probably the most significant event this year for me. Yay! It's good!
1. While I have issues without answers, I suppose, I don't really classify them as 'addictions' or 'habits.' I am no stranger to either, mind you, but they also are old, old news.
I have indeed taken steps in 2013 to address things that have occupied far more mind time than I really want to spend thinking about them, and will continue that process into 2014.
For those who are battling addiction to anything, get help. A 12-step program is available for just about any possible issue these days, especially in California where everyone has a 12-step story. And it works as long as you work it.
2. This is not my photo, but I have an xray that looks almost identical. My triple arthrodesis recovery was probably the most significant event this year for me. Yay! It's good!
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
Scintilla#13, Day 13
The choices:
1. Post a photo of yourself from before age 10. Write about what you remember of the day the photo was taken. It may not be a full story—it may just be flashes of event and emotion—but tap into the child you were as much as you can.
2. The saying goes What you don't know won't hurt you, but sometimes the opposite is true. Talk about a time when you were hurt by something you didn't know.
**************************
Two things I didn't know about: drug addiction and molestation.
Not mine. The repercussions of both impact me still today, however, and changed the life of my loved ones forever.
I didn't know about either when they first happened. It took some time and a lot of denial to believe the former. The abuse came to light years after it took place, but the true extent of it didn't surface until years later, and the two are definitely intertwined.
How they've hurt me: Shock. Tears, oh, so many tears. Denial. Accusations. Loss of trust. Complete loss of trust. Dislike. Distance. Hours spent searching for help; more (futile) hours in 'detective' work. Grief for what might have been. Grief for the pain and suffering my loved ones have had. Grief for my hopes for their future. Grief for their hopes and potential. And So. Much. Anger.
Oddly enough, guilt was not a factor, although I'm usually very good (and quick) at it. But I didn't even suspect the abuse and therefore could not take steps to end it. I wish with all my heart that I could have stopped it -- but the authority of a child molester over his victim can be more powerful than the victim's desire to speak. The molester still lives, free today from a way-too-brief prison sentence for molesting another child. We know of many more victims for which he was not tried. I believe that what goes around comes around; I hope with every molecule of my black, revengeful Scorpio heart that it will. And that I will be around to see it.
The drug addiction was never mine to fix and it is always a choice to use or not to use, regardless of the circumstances. It took me years to truly, deeply understand that you cannot love someone clean. It will take many more years to trust again, and to stop feeling angry that this dear person has chosen such a horrible, destructive path. And the grief over the losses will probably never go away completely. I have learned that mine is the only life I can save. And I pray every day that my loved one will be able to save their own.
1. Post a photo of yourself from before age 10. Write about what you remember of the day the photo was taken. It may not be a full story—it may just be flashes of event and emotion—but tap into the child you were as much as you can.
2. The saying goes What you don't know won't hurt you, but sometimes the opposite is true. Talk about a time when you were hurt by something you didn't know.
**************************
Two things I didn't know about: drug addiction and molestation.
Not mine. The repercussions of both impact me still today, however, and changed the life of my loved ones forever.
I didn't know about either when they first happened. It took some time and a lot of denial to believe the former. The abuse came to light years after it took place, but the true extent of it didn't surface until years later, and the two are definitely intertwined.
How they've hurt me: Shock. Tears, oh, so many tears. Denial. Accusations. Loss of trust. Complete loss of trust. Dislike. Distance. Hours spent searching for help; more (futile) hours in 'detective' work. Grief for what might have been. Grief for the pain and suffering my loved ones have had. Grief for my hopes for their future. Grief for their hopes and potential. And So. Much. Anger.
Oddly enough, guilt was not a factor, although I'm usually very good (and quick) at it. But I didn't even suspect the abuse and therefore could not take steps to end it. I wish with all my heart that I could have stopped it -- but the authority of a child molester over his victim can be more powerful than the victim's desire to speak. The molester still lives, free today from a way-too-brief prison sentence for molesting another child. We know of many more victims for which he was not tried. I believe that what goes around comes around; I hope with every molecule of my black, revengeful Scorpio heart that it will. And that I will be around to see it.
The drug addiction was never mine to fix and it is always a choice to use or not to use, regardless of the circumstances. It took me years to truly, deeply understand that you cannot love someone clean. It will take many more years to trust again, and to stop feeling angry that this dear person has chosen such a horrible, destructive path. And the grief over the losses will probably never go away completely. I have learned that mine is the only life I can save. And I pray every day that my loved one will be able to save their own.
Friday, December 02, 2011
Reverb11 -- Day 2
Today's prompt: My children will do it differently: If you could choose one thing that your children will do or experience in a different way than you have, what would it be and why?
OR
Prompt: Whimsy: Recall a fairy tale-esque moment from 2011. An epic kiss? A triumphant victory? A Wonderland-esque adventure? How did this momentous or fanciful happening affect your outlook?
Two different prompts from two lists. Hm. Let's see what comes....
#1: My children have already done the biggest thing I would have wished for them to do differently, alas, and that is to struggle with addiction and all its consequences. I would have wished for them not to have to face those dragons, ever. But they have. They do. But they are doing it differently than I did, long ago. Who I am today is in no small measure a result of how I faced down my dragon. Their futures will reflect their own battles. I hope they will come through stronger, better, wiser. And I recognize my powerlessness over their choices.
But the other thing I would wish for them to do differently is to settle for anything less than what they truly want. Part of that process is defining what they want, however, and that can take years. I hope they find that sooner than I did, but I hope their end result is as rewarding as mine has been.
#2: There was little whimsy in my life this year, actually. The fairytale-esque moments were more out of the Brothers Grimm than Disney: plenty of scary, dark, ominous-looking woods to travel through, and the potential of scary creatures jumping across my path.
There were, however, some moments of well-being, of feeling completely at peace with the world and with where I was.
Those weren't 'big' moments. Watching our favorite television shows at night, lights darkened, wood stove glowing, the alcove above it twinkling with lights and the silhouettes of the angel statues that live there year-round, kitties curled up on their tuffets and audibly snoring. Snugged together up in bed on clean, soft sheets, kitties in their usual sleeping places -- Cheswick by Tony's side, McMurphy at his feet -- and talking quietly about how lucky we are to have found each other. Reading long, engaging books in a room with floor-to-ceiling windows and sliding doors open to a wide, wonderful ocean vista, pillows surrounding me and a cup of hot chai tea beside me, my honey sitting close by and also reading -- for three days this is how we spent our time! How wonderful is that!
More whimsy in 2012, please.
OR
Prompt: Whimsy: Recall a fairy tale-esque moment from 2011. An epic kiss? A triumphant victory? A Wonderland-esque adventure? How did this momentous or fanciful happening affect your outlook?
Two different prompts from two lists. Hm. Let's see what comes....
#1: My children have already done the biggest thing I would have wished for them to do differently, alas, and that is to struggle with addiction and all its consequences. I would have wished for them not to have to face those dragons, ever. But they have. They do. But they are doing it differently than I did, long ago. Who I am today is in no small measure a result of how I faced down my dragon. Their futures will reflect their own battles. I hope they will come through stronger, better, wiser. And I recognize my powerlessness over their choices.
But the other thing I would wish for them to do differently is to settle for anything less than what they truly want. Part of that process is defining what they want, however, and that can take years. I hope they find that sooner than I did, but I hope their end result is as rewarding as mine has been.
#2: There was little whimsy in my life this year, actually. The fairytale-esque moments were more out of the Brothers Grimm than Disney: plenty of scary, dark, ominous-looking woods to travel through, and the potential of scary creatures jumping across my path.
There were, however, some moments of well-being, of feeling completely at peace with the world and with where I was.
Those weren't 'big' moments. Watching our favorite television shows at night, lights darkened, wood stove glowing, the alcove above it twinkling with lights and the silhouettes of the angel statues that live there year-round, kitties curled up on their tuffets and audibly snoring. Snugged together up in bed on clean, soft sheets, kitties in their usual sleeping places -- Cheswick by Tony's side, McMurphy at his feet -- and talking quietly about how lucky we are to have found each other. Reading long, engaging books in a room with floor-to-ceiling windows and sliding doors open to a wide, wonderful ocean vista, pillows surrounding me and a cup of hot chai tea beside me, my honey sitting close by and also reading -- for three days this is how we spent our time! How wonderful is that!
More whimsy in 2012, please.
Friday, September 26, 2008
Seeing clearly
Clarity of sight is foremost in my thoughts today, as it has been for the last few days. I mean that both literally and figuratively.
I had a cataract removed from my left eye on Tuesday, and will have one removed from the right eye Oct. 7. Tony had one removed last week -- at this point he doesn't need to do the other.
It took six minutes.
I was at the day surgery center maybe an hour and a half. No pain, no discomfort even. I felt pretty woozy from the don't-give-a-crap meds that they relax you with, but remember quite a lot of what went on. Tony saw colors, I remember a little of that, but also seeing just white, sort of like the old test pattern on the black and white tvs.
'But I can see thing with my left eye, unaided by correction, that I have never seen as well with that eye. Things close and midrange are still fuzzy, but even that is improving, and I can finally pretty much see the computer screen with that eye.
It's downright miraculous.
And yes, I AM too young to have cataracts.
They may be a result of meds I've been on for years, it may be some genetic thing, whatever. But I got 'em early. And once replaced, I won't ever have to have it done again. If cloudiness returns, it can be clarified with a simple laser treatment in the doc's office.
Coping with wildly disparate sight is a bit unnerving and strains my eyes, but I can handle this for another couple of weeks, and then I'll work with getting both eyes focusing together. I should come out of this needing only reading glasses.
And then there is clarity of thought and action and insight, and I've been trying to wrap my head around several different things.
I'm using the old Serenity prayer a lot, both as regards the volatile state of the economy (egad! what a FUBAR that is!), and for some of the people I love or care about who are struggling right now with depression and anger and fear.
What do I say? How much do I say? How strongly can I push? Will it even make a difference?
These are old patterns at work, I think, in all cases: methods of coping with pain and anger, and how to work through it. I believe my dear ones need help doing it, but I'm also so well aware that they have to drive that decision. As much as I can point out that it would be beneficial, it means nothing unless the individual wants to make that change. The old "you can lead a horse to water" theory....
It's an addiction, these old ways of dealing with pain and confusion and fear and grief and anger. You numb them with substances or you act out in your behavior, or your life teeters on the edge of unmanageable, and none of it is fun. NOTHING seems fun. Except when you're doing whatever you do to stop thinking about it, and even then it's not fun because you know you're going to feel crappy later.
I know a thing or two about addiction and how to deal with it. I recognize it. I know a few things about denial, too, which -- have to say it -- is not just a river in Egypt.
There's a quote attributed to George Carlin: "Just 'cause you got the monkey off your back doesn't mean the circus has left town.”
Merely stopping an addiction, be it behavior or substances, is not going to make you recover. It takes constant, lifelong work of adjusting and readjusting your thinking, being scrupulously honest with yourself about what is going on, and admitting when you need help to work it out.
Ah. Life can be so damned hard.
So I'm also working on clarity for myself: to know when to talk, to know what to say, and to know when to shut up -- the last being the hardest thing for me. Bottom line: we create our own destiny through our choices. The only destiny I have any control over is MINE. And today I am taking care of me.
I had a cataract removed from my left eye on Tuesday, and will have one removed from the right eye Oct. 7. Tony had one removed last week -- at this point he doesn't need to do the other.
It took six minutes.
I was at the day surgery center maybe an hour and a half. No pain, no discomfort even. I felt pretty woozy from the don't-give-a-crap meds that they relax you with, but remember quite a lot of what went on. Tony saw colors, I remember a little of that, but also seeing just white, sort of like the old test pattern on the black and white tvs.
'But I can see thing with my left eye, unaided by correction, that I have never seen as well with that eye. Things close and midrange are still fuzzy, but even that is improving, and I can finally pretty much see the computer screen with that eye.
It's downright miraculous.
And yes, I AM too young to have cataracts.
They may be a result of meds I've been on for years, it may be some genetic thing, whatever. But I got 'em early. And once replaced, I won't ever have to have it done again. If cloudiness returns, it can be clarified with a simple laser treatment in the doc's office.
Coping with wildly disparate sight is a bit unnerving and strains my eyes, but I can handle this for another couple of weeks, and then I'll work with getting both eyes focusing together. I should come out of this needing only reading glasses.
And then there is clarity of thought and action and insight, and I've been trying to wrap my head around several different things.
I'm using the old Serenity prayer a lot, both as regards the volatile state of the economy (egad! what a FUBAR that is!), and for some of the people I love or care about who are struggling right now with depression and anger and fear.
What do I say? How much do I say? How strongly can I push? Will it even make a difference?
These are old patterns at work, I think, in all cases: methods of coping with pain and anger, and how to work through it. I believe my dear ones need help doing it, but I'm also so well aware that they have to drive that decision. As much as I can point out that it would be beneficial, it means nothing unless the individual wants to make that change. The old "you can lead a horse to water" theory....
It's an addiction, these old ways of dealing with pain and confusion and fear and grief and anger. You numb them with substances or you act out in your behavior, or your life teeters on the edge of unmanageable, and none of it is fun. NOTHING seems fun. Except when you're doing whatever you do to stop thinking about it, and even then it's not fun because you know you're going to feel crappy later.
I know a thing or two about addiction and how to deal with it. I recognize it. I know a few things about denial, too, which -- have to say it -- is not just a river in Egypt.
There's a quote attributed to George Carlin: "Just 'cause you got the monkey off your back doesn't mean the circus has left town.”
Merely stopping an addiction, be it behavior or substances, is not going to make you recover. It takes constant, lifelong work of adjusting and readjusting your thinking, being scrupulously honest with yourself about what is going on, and admitting when you need help to work it out.
Ah. Life can be so damned hard.
So I'm also working on clarity for myself: to know when to talk, to know what to say, and to know when to shut up -- the last being the hardest thing for me. Bottom line: we create our own destiny through our choices. The only destiny I have any control over is MINE. And today I am taking care of me.
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