Set the time aside for a movie clutching the heartbreaking, inspiring experience of survival, relapse, and recovery in a family coping with addiction over many years.
This is where it all begins to end for so many of us. It’s certainly the case with storm in a wine glass. And while we don’t all weigh in with the same numbers, the scars are still the same. The scars heal, of course, if we lean into recovery as our intention. But they do remain. Just sayin’.
Go read the whole thing from storm in a wine glass. Promptly, please.
I don’t know about you, but trust is a struggle for me. Not so much trusting other people, although lets be real- I don’t do that very well either. Being the control freak that I tend to be, I’ve put myself in a weird position where I don’t generally have to rely on or trust […]
The five “action” points in Mike’s following blog post are at once provocative and so chewy they’re almost grisly… but in a good way. Lots to ponder in each point, but one I kept being drawn back to was an insight the Australian Buddhist seemed to casually ponder as an afterthought:
There is work for me to do around grief and trauma and Dad and Mum but it has to lead me to think more broadly about the consequences of relationships of all types. Sometimes we never get to say goodbye.
A significant part of my own healing was being called home to care for my 90-year-old cancer-ridden father for several weeks before he died back in 2007. Even though much of the profound turmoil between us ended well before Joy and I moved far away from them back in 1989, I had always carried the unspoken burden of unspoken, unresolved issues going back to my teens.
As you have likely guessed, Dad died without my having the long-sought luxury of leveling the playing field I imagined we had been on all those years. It was 1:30 a.m. in the middle of a warm San Diego September night. I was drinking yet another beer, holding his hand while patiently sitting next to the hospice bed he had been inhabiting for weeks on end. And he just… quietly slipped away. With a very tranquil look on his face. I sat there for 10 minutes still holding his hand, looking at him resting peacefully, and finally said, “Well, Dad. That is so like you to beat last call.”
It was on the flight back to Indy that God nudged me to let me know my healing was in caring for my father; my healing was in feeding and bathing and cleaning up after him, keeping him comfortable and simply being present to him. It was God’s place to level my anticipated playing field. That became a much more profound truth for me in 2010 when I sobered up in A.A.
Anyway, read the second of three installments from dharmaholic. The first one is here.
Today I celebrate 19 years of being married to Emma. Over those we had many adventures that have taken us literally across the world. Over that period too we both changed our careers, lived into new possibilities, all with the mutual support of each other. The “sickness and health” aspect of our wedding vows seems to loom […]
Special thanks to Indianapolis blogger Christopher M Turner for this thought-provoking fable from Hazelden Betty Ford Foundation: The Fox and the Stork.
One evening the fox invited his friend the stork to dinner. For a joke, the fox prepared soup and served it in a shallow dish. The fox could easily lap up the soup. But the stork, with its long bill, went hungry. The fox gave the stork a sly grin and said, “I am so sorry. It seems as if the soup is not to your liking.”
“There is no need to apologize,” the stork replied. “I would like to repay your hospitality and invite you to dinner tomorrow night.”
The next evening, the stork served the fox a meal in a long-necked jar with a narrow mouth. The stork could easily reach into the jar and eat, but the fox could not and went hungry. “I will not apologize for the dinner,” the stork said. “because one bad turn deserves another.” After that, the fox and the stork were no longer friends.
The Moral of the story: Revenge may be sweet, but the damage it does cannot be repaired.
No matter how wronged you may feel by the words or actions of another, remember that revenge, retaliation, and harboring resentment serve no useful purpose.
I will let go of past resentments and consider no one to be my enemy.
You are reading from the book:
by Amy E. Dean © 2011 Hazelden Foundation
Excellent post from Jami at Sober Grace. Coming up on five years clean and sober and well into digging through stuff that has absolutely nothing to do with drugs and alcohol, this post is gently and clearly articulating thoughts that have always remained tangled for me .
It’s the middle of the day on a weekday, I don’t remember why it was that I wasn’t at work and my husband was, but for some reason I was home alone. Well, I was alone except for my dogs. I was doing normal things that I would do on a day off, laundry and cleaning and such. As I remember, I was in a good mood, nothing weighing on me or worrying me; nothing bad or upsetting had happened recently to put me on edge. We have a small patio outside our front door with a tall wood fence going around it and a gate that I always lock from the inside when I’m home. The slats of the fence are too close together to see through, either in or out. I was inside doing my thing and I heard…
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Amazing post from Running on Sober dealing with a journey back home:
Most of the sticky notes are phone numbers. Doctors? Clients? Friends? I want to call each number to see who answers. “Did you know my mother? What did you talk about? Did she seem happy? Please, tell me. I am trying not to forget her.”
The labels were brutal for me. They were what I took into my heart when I was young and changed the way I viewed myself long before the abuse began. And it was more difficult to overcome the emotional damage than it was the physical damage.
So many of us have been raised with the false words of the famous rhyme, “Sticks and stones may break your bones but words will never hurt you.” This is so untrue. Words hurt more than most people realize and inflict wounds on the souls of many from youth to adults…
Sticks and stones…
may break your bones…
but words won’t hurt you…
has NEVER been true.
FOR many words spoken…
can make you broken…
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Nuts. Now I have to wipe the Starbucks off my keyboard. But Is this, like, the perfect way to start a Tuesday? Not to mention the last day in September?
People, amirite? Where do they get off?
On my way to the office this morning, I received a notification from Instagram that I had received a direct message/picture from someone who I rarely, if that, communicate with. She was married to my cousin, who lives out of state, and with whom I don’t really have that close of a relationship with either. I kinda got happy, thinking she must be sending me some supportive or encouraging quote, since that’s all I really post on Instagram.
But instead I received this:
I was pretty floored. I mean, I never talk to her. I have never personally discussed with her me wanting to get sober and remain sober, I don’t have regular conversations with her, I don’t know what her daily routine is like, I don’t know what she’s going through in her life, I don’t know if her job is stressful or…
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Polarized would be the word I choose to describe this morning’s meeting, and never before have I had a chance to do that!
This being the fifth Monday in the month of September, I did a little research and came up with an unusual article to use as this morning’s reading selection. Originally published in 1947 in the AA magazine Grapevine, “Slips” was written by Dr. William D. Silkworth, an American medical doctor who was tremendously influential in the founding of the 12-step program Alcoholics Anonymous. Silkworth’s position in this article is that a relapse, or “slip,” to an alcoholic can be compared to the cardiac patient who, after time spent abiding by the rules of his condition, slowly but surely reverts to his old lifestyle that caused the heart attack. In other words: alcoholics are human beings first and foremost, and the poor decisions made by an alcoholic are…
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Mallards 4 Us knocks one out of the park on this take-no-prisoners assessment of Day 27.
Wow… This post from Heather at Sober Boots brought some memories back to the frontal lobes.
Paul at Message In a Bottle swings for the fences on this stellar post concerning letting go. Here’s just a bite-size morsel:
When I clutch onto things that don’t serve me, consciously or unconsciously, I am either causing more pain or discomfort in my life, or I am limiting myself. Or both. I am also taking energy away from the things that I could be doing. When I feel in tune with what my heart or spirit tells me, I feel serenity. Even if it’s tough at first, or there is fear. When I am out of joint with where I am supposed to be, I feel it. I know when I am not in tune when I get that knotted feeling in my gut. When I hear that tiny voice of reason / conscious contact telling me that I shouldn’t be doing X, Y or Z. I know I am swimming upstream when things seem to be an unnecessary struggle.
I strongly suggest sitting down, pondering and digesting this entire thought-provoking tract.
If you’re a parent, you’re familiar with that closing line from the Frozen soundtrack hit “Let it Go”. For those of you who don’t have children, and haven’t heard the song…I envy you. You are on terra firma. The rest of us are plunged into an icy abyss of relentless repeats of that song being played by our wee ones. Or at least I am. My two boys listen to that soundtrack ad nauseum. I have practically memorized the songs and lyrics through osmosis. I have absorbed the Disney-ness of those tunes and I am not sure where I sit with that. I have mentioned my helplessness to others, and they have been cheeky in reminding me to just “let it go”. Hardy har har.
But they are on to something. I really did have to let it go. I had to surrender to the fact that the boys…
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