The insidiousness of pharmaceuticals
Prescription pills. My lord, I loved them. I loved to have a pocket of vicodin on the right, and a pocket of xanax on the left, and somas or narcos in my purse, and I would just juggle them until I got the desired effect. I’d add vodka to this cocktail, and I was good to go. I wanted to be numb. I wanted to feel normal, which for me, at that time, meant feeling nothing, like a sleepwalking zombie. I couldn’t handle feelings, nary a one.
THE INSIDIOUSNESS OF PHARMACEUTICALS
I never stopped to think how dangerous this was. Pills seem so innocuous, just these little tiny things. No smell, no smoke, no paraphernalia. I remember when I was 17, a kid I knew stole my bottle out of my purse- my little pharmacy of valium, fiorinal, elevail, halcion- all that I had discovered in my great aunt’s bathroom drawer. She had been a pharmacist. Very fitting. That kid, who stole my stash, went blind for 8 hours. I was terrified that I would get busted, that my drug use would blind him forever, that a combination of what I took could blind anyone, even me. I remember how it used to freak people out when I would pass out with my eyes open. And I remember waking up in the hospital in 4 point restraints, after having flatlined from an accidental overdose at 18. None of this deterred me in the least. I thought it was epic, in my flaming youth. It was my intention to blaze through life, even if I had to flirt with death to do it.
That was a long, long time ago. I am no spring chicken, so when I speak of my teenage years, that was well over 25 years ago. It wasn’t easy to get those kind of drugs then- or, I should say, it wasn’t that common. Street drugs, at the time, were coke and pot, acid and ecstacy, and, if you were really hardcore, speed and heroin, and qualudes to help you come down. What you did often was dictated by who you hung out with and what kind of music you listened to- it was a socially dictated sort of thing. And then, it wasn’t, as you explored your addiction, your friends would change to suit your drug. I went from punk rock to hippy to beatnik to LA nightlife to a mom with mother’s little helpers, and my drugs of choice changed with each scene. I still am not sure if I chose my friends because of the drugs or chose the drugs because of my friends. I just know it morphed as I went along. But with today’s pill usage, it is no longer dictated by one’s group or peers- its ever present.
I was trying to count how many people I know who have lost their lives to prescription pill abuse. Just in the past five years, its a stunning number, and a sad number. Its too many. I know people who go out and shoot speedballs in their necks, get beat up on skid row and end up in jail and live through it nearly un-phased. And then there are people who take a couple of pharmaceuticals and drink a bottle of wine and die in their sleep. Recently, very publicly,there have been celebrities who died either in their shower, or in their bath, or in their bed. Young people with bright futures, again, very public. And the same is true for scores of people who are not in the public eye. It is a very big problem, and its growing. Its one of the most rapidly escalating causes of death, but the true numbers are hard to track.
Recently, a family member of mine was prescribed clonopin and zoloft for anxiety. He went out drinking and passed out in the bathroom of a club for an hour. If he had been in a bathtub, he would have drowned. It is usually women who will go fill up a tub and get in with a glass of wine once they have a good buzz going, so they are more likely to meet a terrible end that way. But what if my family member had been driving, swimming in a pool or in a hot tub? How often do people die and it isn’t traced back to the culprit of mixing prescription meds and alcohol? We can’t really quantify the real number of deaths due to that deadly combination, but suffice it to say, its staggering.
I have made a point of talking to my kids about this, extensively. I want them to have a fear of this, not a cavalier attitude. Not ‘its no big deal, its just a couple of pills and a few drinks’. or, ‘That won’t happen to me.’ I tell them that everyone thinks that. No one thinks, “Oh, wow, that could be me. I might die if I do that.” I know that teenagers are popping xanax and narco and vicodins and oxycontin left and right. They go out and drink and think nothing of it. I did it. I nearly didn’t survive it. We all think we are untouchable, and no one is as surprised as we are when we realize that we’ve gone too far, and that we may pay with our lives for that arrogance.
I am writing this because I know that someone who is now reading this won’t survive. I know that it might be you, reading it right now. I also know that it might not be you, if you heed this warning. In recovery, of course we want everyone to stay sober. We want everyone to stay alive. We want everyone to be happy and healthy and loving life. But that isn’t always the case. People die, and they die a lot, and they die young, and they leave a lot of very devastated people behind. They die when they least expect it. They don’t think they will, and then they do. If you are in recovery, just stay. Just do it. Stay sober and stay alive. If you are struggling, join us. Stay for today, and do the same thing tomorrow. We want to live, and we want you with us. If you are taking pharmaceuticals that are prescribed by a Dr., take them as prescribed, and talk to your Dr about the dangers of drinking with what you are taking. And do as he says. Your life depends on it.
Bouncing through sobriety!
There are times when I stop and really reflect on my recovery. These times are sometimes brought on by seeing how often relapse happens in my community, or, as was recently the case, losing a friend to this disease. I can’t help but wonder how I have, thus far, been able to hitch myself to this wagon and stay hitched to it. Why me, and not them? I don’t run a perfect program, as they say. Far from it, if the guidelines of an AA program are truly the measuring stick of what recovery should look like. There is an ebb and flow, for me, in my relationship with AA, and I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t the case. I would always be the first person to tell someone to do all the things that it is suggested we do in AA; because we have seen it can work where little else can, to say anything else would be dangerous. But at the tend of the day, we do what we do, and it works, or it doesn’t- and the mitigating factor is something internal, having to do with surrender and no percentage less than 100.
At this point in my recovery, I can’t really remember what it was like to want to drink or use. I don’t remember the feeling of craving. This may be due to the fullness of my life now, and how inspired I am on a daily basis to do the right thing. As a single mom of two teenage girls, there is little time to indulge in any sort of self pity. Often, when people ask me how I am doing, I have to stop and check in, as I am, I really am, what I am doing- not how I am feeling. Feelings are secondary. I have a lot to do, and I don’t do it grudgingly. I have a gold thread of joy that ties it all together, whether its a day of work and feeding kids and driving to appointments and doing laundry, or a blessedly relaxed and rare day by the pool. I am not discontent. My life has purpose, and that fills the hole that was once a gaping maw of want and need.
There is one aspect of my recovery, however, that is without a doubt one of the biggest and least talked about. I am, for the sake of this dialogue, skipping over principles, and my Higher Power, and working with others, as I have spoken at length about all of the above in previous blogs. The aspect I am referring to is the element of PLAY.
bouncing through sobriety 
Play, and a playful attitude, are pivotal to my very existence. It is something that, if you removed it from me, would render me lifeless, a zombie, a robot, which is what I was when I was using. Serving only my appetites reduced me to being a slave to them. But as I got sober, I realized how profound the playful aspect was for me. I need to do things like go to the beach to build sandcastles and hunt for starfish and run with dogs. I have to sing as loud as I can in my car, louder than my head and its incessant thinking. I need to end my day with a plate full of warm cookies. I need to go play paintball, and run around and get dirty and get paint all in my hair and hoot and holler. I need to dance in the aisles of the grocery store, to embarrass my kids. I need to interact playfully with the guy at 7-11 or the gas station or the woman at the check out counter at Trader Joe’s. I need to hula hoop, even though I suck at it, and go to Disneyland or to ride rollercoasters. I need to BOUNCE through my day, no matter what I am doing.
I don’t know about you, but for me, its THE gold thread that holds my life in sobriety together- its is the playful loving golden thread of God. It invites the spirit of play into all my affairs, and I find that the universe plays with me in kind. There is love in playfulness, and the universe is always and ever loving. The only time it isn’t is NEVER- but we often are not open to it, and at those times it will seem like the universe is conspiring against us. So often we are so focused on ourselves that we do not see how the world has opened its arms to us, urging us forward into new personal adventures while we cling to our old ideas with a white knuckled death grip, insisting on taking it all personally.
The thing that gets my goat is that you can’t ever really tell anyone that they are holding onto old ideas, that life is amazing and that the seemingly unfortunate event they are currently in is a great blessing, that the universe is inviting them to play while they are busy indulging in outdated belief systems. This will only piss a person off. They don’t want to hear it. Usually they want you to recognize their suffering, to co-sign it, and that is no help, either. The only person who I can tell this to is me. When I get confronted by scenarios that I don’t have any answers for, that I become fearful or worried about, I am the only one who can say- “Hey, this is a gift. You aren’t seeing it right because you are making yourself the focus. Snap out of it, homegirl. This doesn’t work, plus its no fun!” All challenges are invitations to grow. Many of them I created by my own myopia, and I get to learn not to repeat that mistake. Sometimes they are a cleansing- things are removed from my life that have outlived their usefulness, and I need to make room for new experiences. And because I have a highly developed sense of play, which has a bounce to it, a built in spring, if you will- I can easily bounce back from most things that I almost let tackle me. Even if I start to buy the ticket to the pity parade, that spring won’t let me do it. Why? Because the pity parade is BORING, and the bounce wants to bounce, and the play wants to play. Life is fun if you say it is, if you take a stand to adopt the spirit of play and inject it into everything.
There will be some who may think that there is no levity in their situation, and to them I want to say, they may be right. I haven’t walked in anyone else’s shoes, and there may be some situations that are so dark that light can’t get in there. Or maybe a little can, but not enough to smile about yet. For them I will say there is always hope, and there is always something to marvel at, and it could always be worse. It could always be worse. The only people for whom that isn’t true are not here to say it to anymore. If you are on this planet, if you woke up today, then it could be worse.
Spiritual Alarm Clocks
Life is a trip. This is no revelation; but its worth saying.
On Saturday, I had to go get new tires. I drove through a part of town I don’t get to much, but its an area where I worked for over 3 years, and where I really hit my bottom. I would leave work and go to the liquor store for lunch, and slam down a bunch of those tiny bottles of vodka. I’d go to different stores every day so no one would think I had a problem. I’d joke with the clerks- “Its one of those days, I’m getting ready for happy hour early!” Then I would go back to work, having had my lunch. It was bad enough that I was not worse after a few drinks, but better. I couldn’t function without it.
It was strange to have all of those memories flooding back, and the feelings that went with them. Now, 8 years later,(5 and change in sobriety, but a few dark years in between) I have compassion for that woman I was, what a sad little mess I made out of everything all the time. What a weird time in my life that was. I had tried to get in touch with my boss from that time when I did my 9th step, but she never responded, so I let it go. I had to drive by her old apartment on the way to the tire place, and I resolved, absolutely, right then and there, to find her. I would track her down and make the amends I owed to her, because that part of my life still felt unclean and unresolved, and she deserved the amends that was so long overdue. 8 years overdue.
I got my tires done, and had stopped thinking about it. I was trying to go to a small fragrance store that I had heard about but never went to, having an oddly free afternoon. It was tricky- I drove around the block 3 times and couldn’t find parking. I finally, being determined as hell suddenly, succumbed to the $5 valet. I went in and played with all the lovely scents in Le Labo, and then left. I stood there for a second. I am not a shopper, but I had just paid $5, so I decided to walk around a bit a poke around in the little shops that line 3rd street. I went into another store, eyeballing the goods, when a small dog came over and licked my toes. I laughed and looked up at the owner, and it was her, my old boss, the one who I had an hour ago resolved to find. In the flesh. I got goosebumps and hugged her. She looked a little hesitant- we hadn’t parted on good terms- and when I said I was working in treatment the past couple of years, she visibly relaxed and suggested we have lunch when she returned from Costa Rica.
I love how we seem to love to announce this- I do the same. I turned and asked if he was a friend of Bill. He wasn’t, in fact- he had gotten sober on his own. He smiled even bigger and said, “Isn’t it amazing how your entire life changes when you stop drinking?”
THE ART OF MAKING A DIFFERENCE/ THE PRISM AWARDS
THE 16TH ANNUAL PRISM AWARDS
Last week, I had the great privilege of attending the 16th ANNUAL PRISM AWARDS at the Beverly Hills Hotel. I didn’t have any idea what to expect. Being the perennial tomboy, my big issue was putting on a dress. Of course, this is symptomatic of the alcoholic mind. It isn’t about me, its about the achievements of others, its about ONE80CENTER sponsoring Renew Magazine at the 16th Annual Prism Awards show! And here I was, obsessing about myself. I pulled it together, though, because just as self centeredness is a byproduct of the disease, a byproduct of recovery is a circle of friends who turn up to offer support- and I had three friends who lent me three different dresses to choose from. God bless ‘em.
William H. Macy of Showtime's Shameless
The PRISM Awards show honors actors, directors, writers, in TV and film who portray alcoholism/addiction/recovery and mental health issues in a way that informs and educates the viewers. Its no secret that alcoholism/addiction and mental illness are two of the most misunderstood issues in American society. I’ll wager that there isn’t one single person in this country whose life isn’t touched in some way by one of the aforementioned issues- be it a family member, a coworker, a sister’s boyfriend or a best friend’s father or whatever- in some fashion, its around us all. And for some, its much closer- its a child, or a parent, a spouse, or our very own self. For something to be so pandemic and yet so stigmatized is a travesty. It is difficult enough to recover, or to learn to live with a mental illness, without there being such a mystery surrounding the process. Without recognition, compassion and understanding, these issues can become fatal tragedies, and too often are.
THE ART OF MAKING A DIFFERENCE
Thankfully, there are brave actors, writers, and directors who are out to change this reality. Through accurate portrayal of the truth about addiction, or recovery, and of mental health issues, they illustrate the humanity behind the “curtain of shame”. I don’t really watch TV, so I had no idea that so much light was being shed on these all too pertinent social issues. At the beginning of the event, the military in the audience were honored. As they stood to introduce themselves, I was thinking how incredible it was, to be so courageous, and to be honored for one’s bravery in the face of extreme adversity. It then occurred to me that every nominee was also being recognized for their courageous performance, but also every nominee was standing up for every brave person that has ever struggled with the challenges their character represented. Then it hit me- I AM ONE OF THOSE PEOPLE. I am one, I am part of this group, I am a survivor of a great battle, not unlike those brave soldiers. All of us in that category have been silently waging a war against our own demons, bearing up under the weight of our own crosses. We are not like other people; we just AREN’T. It feels good to be recognized and understood, not just by our own kind, but the rest of the world, too.
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder was part of the video clip from Castle featuring Stana Katic and Jon Huertas, and also in Days of Our Lives, both of which won
Emily Osment of Cyberbully
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder was part of the video clip that was shown from Castle, featuring Stana Katic Prism Awards. In another clip from the show Parenthood, a mother of two teens, while driving them to school, tries to tell them that their father was an alcoholic/addict, and that they also had the genes, and that they needed to be more careful than other people, that they couldn’t drink alcohol like other people who didn’t have the genetic disposition towards addiction. I spoke to the writer of that particular show afterwards, and told her how it was identical to a talk I had had with my own two teenagers the week before, and it was stunningly similar. William H Macy was honored in a clip from Showtime’s Shameless, as a blathering, jabbering, street walking drunk on a rant. He was brilliant, spot on, and, with his wild gesticulating walking down public streets, talking loudly to himself, he brought to mind the kind of person we move away from when we see him walking towards us. He epitomized the disease of alcoholism at its worst- he IS US at our worst. We know that dark place, lost inside the labyrinth of the disease. And yet, he’s funny, its comedy- but no one is laughing harder that those of us in recovery. Emily Osment picked up an award for her work in Cyberbully, which depicted a teenage girl under attack on social networking sites, to the point of harming herself fatally. Cyberbully brings to light a new social dilemma that requires immediate attention, and is symptomatic of culture raised on contempt. Russell Brand and Helen Mirren were nominated in the field of Motion Pictures for their brilliant work in Arthur. Dr Drew Pinsky picked up two Prism Awards, as he famously continues to shed light on these issues in his reality television programs, which reach millions of people.
Many of these actors took to the stage and stated frankly that they too suffered from PTSD, or were in recovery from alcohol or addiction. Marriette Hartley, who I remember from so many television shows as a child, bravely said that her personal experiences with PTSD made her even more moved by what the Prism Award stand for. She wrote a book called Breaking The Silence about her own experiences, and once said,
Mariette Hartley
“I believe there must be no shame attached to mental illness or suicide. It is essential to get help and to stay in close contact with a psychiatrist and if pharmaceuticals are advised, to be completely honest about family tendencies and disorders. Often a misdiagnosis can be dangerous. And above all, share your story with others. I have a friend who was once an actress, and then she got smart and became a nun. She once said to me that “one’s deepest wounds – integrated – become one’s greatest power.” I believe that deeply.”
This quote alone expresses the spirit of the Prism Awards, and what I felt in the air that night.
Needless to say, I felt right at home at the Awards Show. In my life of recovery, and working in the field of treatment, all of the issues covered are normal in my world. I understand that which is perplexing to ‘normal’ people more than I understand so called ‘normalcy’. It made me think of all the times I spoke to ‘normies’ the way I speak to people in recovery. You really can’t do that- you really can’t, when asked by a normal person how you are doing, REALLY tell them how you are really doing. I recall the time I was hired to work in a law firm, making calls regarding class action law suits, and one of the attorneys who was training me asked me how my weekend was. And I told him! I told him exactly how my weekend was, and how I felt about it, with the standard intimacy we share in the tribe of recovery. He looked at me as if I was an exotic fish that had just swam into his office. If I had said that to anyone in recovery they would have understood, implicitly. I learned then the biggest difference between those of us in recovery and those of us who aren’t is this thing of understanding each other.
All of the nominees of the Prism Awards, past, present, and those yet to come, all endeavor to bridge that gap between ‘us’ and ‘them’. In the world at large, we are not isolated instances, we are part of a continuous fabric of humanity. We are surrounded by family and friends, lovers, spouses, coworkers, all who either understand a little about our inner struggle, about our triumphant recovery, or about what it takes to live with a mental illness. Maybe some of these people have no idea. We may keep it to ourselves, out of fear of being stigmatized, or judged. We may only talk to others of our own kind about it. But wouldn’t it be nice, wouldn’t it be really epic, if the world at large understood what types of things are handicaps for us, what sorts of things trigger us, so they can be sensitive to who and what we are? Wouldn’t it be utterly cool to be understood? Wouldn’t it be awesome if people knew that alcoholism is a disease, not a moral shortcoming, not a weakness, but a literal disease?
Dr Drew Pinsky, multiple Prism Award winner
I firmly support anything that unifies people, that levels the playing field and allows for more harmony and respect and less contempt prior to investigation. The people involved in putting on the Prism Awards show, the EIC, F/X, the actors, the TV shows and movies, the writers, the directors, everyone who is willing to put themselves out there to accurately depict these issues, are heros. These people are truly living the “art of making a difference.” We should all endeavor to do the same.
The 16th Annual Prism Awards will be aired on F/X September the 16th, 2012. RENEW EVERYDAY magazine, sponsored by ONE80CENTER, took a ton of great photos and did interviews of the winners and presenters. Look for more in the next issue of Renew Everyday, and on the Renew website, www.reneweveryday.com.
(photos by Lisa Rose photography)
Adventures in Sobriety
ADVENTURES IN SOBRIETY
A couple of days ago, I had driven my daughter to an appointment in an area of LA that isn’t the greatest- not the kind of neighborhood you want to be in at night. Her appointment was fro m6:30 to 7:30 pm, so it was almost night time. It seems that I fell asleep in my car with it running- I had left it on for the heat, and was reading while I waited for her. I was awakened by my car making a strange sound, and then dying.
My first thought is that I had run down the little gas I had- I was planning on filling up the tank right after her appointment. I tried to text her to tell her that I was leaving the car and walking to the gas station, but she didn’t answer and the door to the building was locked. So I went as fast as I could, with only 15 minutes before she walked out of her appointment into the parking lot, at which point the door would lock behind her and she would be alone in the lot, not knowing what had happened to her mom. That was all I could think about as I walked as fast as I could to the gas station. SO, I bought the $15 gas container, and two gallons of gas ($4.70 here in Los Angeles, for those elsewhere). As I was filling the gas can, a man pulled up and asked if I needed a ride. Normally I would say no, but I had to get back to my daughter, who I had been worried about the whole time. As we were driving, he told me he had stayed twice at the half way house up the street, both times he got out of the penitentiary. Wow! Yeah, that isn’t the kind of thing you want to hear when you jump into a stranger’s car. But he then went on to tell me how he spoke to his son for the first time ever just the day before, and he told me his son’s name and that he found him on facebook. He then dropped me off and was on his way.
I put the gas in my car. Annnnnnd…it didn’t work. The only place that was around in the area, sharing the parking lot with doctor’s office that was open was a mental hospital. Yes, this is a true story. So I went there and tried to find someone with jumper cables. I found two ambulance attendants, who were very helpful and came and put the cables on my car. 15 minutes later- nothing. The battery was completely dead. And then, so was my phone. My daughter and I got in the back of the ambulance and they dropped us off at an Autozone, about 8 blocks away. I didn’t know if I was going to try to learn how to install a battery, alone with my 13 year in a dark parking lot, if I was going to carry that heavy thing up the 8 block long hill- I had no idea. As we stood in line, in a state of awe at the weirdness of the situation, I felt a nudge. An invisible nudge. It nudged- almost pushed- me towards a Hispanic man who was standing at the register. I asked him if he knew how to install a battery. He said yes. I asked him if he could help us, and he said yes. His name was Daniel. He had to repair his own car, in the parking lot, so we sat on the curb for about an hour,my daughter and I wrapped in his sweatshirt that he gave us because we were cold, watching the people doing various street businesses on the corner.
Finally, he was done with his car. He didn’t speak english well enough to understand how to get to my car, so he told me to drive. His van seemed like his home- meaning, I think he lived in it. So I drove his van to the parking lot by the mental hospital, and he was able to install the new battery, our new friend Daniel.
PERCEPTION IS EVERYTHING
half empty? half full?
What was truly amazing about this adventure, and the point of this blog, is that every single time I needed someone, they showed up, like clockwork. It took 4 people to help- ambulance drivers, an ex con, and a homeless man who barely spoke english. But they were there, and I couldn’t question for one second the force that put everyone where they should be. Because really, that battery would have died eventually, and it could have been a lot worse.
there was a time when this adventure would have been a terrible chain of events- I wouldn’t have seen anything good about it at all. My daughter was inclined to get negative about it- I had said to her, “This could have been so much worse!” And she rolled her pre-teen eyes at me and said, “It could have been so much better, too.” To which I replied, “Maybe, but the way I am looking at it keeps me grateful and positive. The way you are looking at it will always make you a victim, and unhappy.” She smiled, and said, “Mom, you’re weird.” Later, though, she did concede that it was pretty wild how there were people right there, giving rides and helping install batteries and jump cars. I was glad she was there to experience it- stranded by a mental hospital in a bad part of town with the phone dead- it was like the setting for a slasher movie. And saved by 4 not-so-random angels. I love these awesome adventures in sobriety.
Not Drowning, Surfing
Truth is Truth
I love how it happens when I am reading various spiritual books and I come across the same truths that we learn in AA. For instance, the concept of contrary action. This seems to be axiomatic in many schools of thought. Recently, in my Fourth Way group, we were all told to sit for 5 minutes every morning, upon waking. Not in a normal meditation kind of way, but upright, on a chair, back straight, feet on floor, hands one inside the other. Easy, right? Think again.
Of course its easy- its not like they asked me to bend spoons with my mind. In fact, the idea of its easiness is exactly what helps illustrate how unwilling most people are to do even the easiest of things. I am using myself as an example. I know all about contrary action- I write about it a lot, and I practice it often. It is a lynchpin of my personal philosophy. However, when confronted with doing this simple thing, I have had the hardest time adhering to it. Now- here are my reasons, and they are, seemingly, valid- I’m a tired single mom, I work a lot, I don’t get enough sleep, I roll out of bed and hit the ground running, I have two teenagers to wake up and get moving, etc. etc. These are not just reasons, these are excuses. EXCUSES. Reasons are just excuses that make sense on some level. I am able to totally justify my not doing this one little thing. And yet, by the simple act of putting all reasons, excuses, and resistance aside and simply doing the damn thing, I may experience a new level of consciousness.
Am I a Robot? Errr…apparently.
How is 5 minutes a day going to give me a new level of consciousness? Could it really be that easy? Well, the new level comes not just from the sitting, but by the whole process of watching all the automatic resistance that comes up for me. In all spiritual traditions, the concept of ‘waking up’ is very relevant. In Fourth Way, part of the waking up process is called Self Remembering. To remember my true self, I have to understand my false self, the one that is a robot. I have to see how programmed I am to do certain things certain ways all the time, consistently. I have to observe how I play small and make excuses. I justify my limiting behavior. I procrastinate. I look for an easier way. I’m on automatic pilot more often than I realize. It wasn’t easy to see before this 5 minute morning exercise, because it isn’t easy to really see ourselves at all. I can see only what I know- but it is finding out what I don’t know that liberates me from the bondage of self.
For the past few weeks I would drive to work and puzzle over why I didn’t do my sitting exercise, or why I kept having such a problem with it. At first, I really didn’t know. I said to myself- “I can’t do this, my life is too busy.” But for crying out loud, its FIVE MINUTES! FIVE! So then I really started to observe myself, and watch myself NOT sit. I watched myself do everything BUT sit. And I learned a lot that I didn’t know.
Book Review- Women Who Run With Wolves by Clarissa Pinkola Estes
Women Who Run With Wolves
Its important to howl
From the time we enter adulthood, it is commonly believed that we have reached our maturity. That couldn’t be farther from the truth. There is much growing that still needs to happen, but often gets stunted- which is one of the sad results of a society that has lost its sense of tribalism. Just because we pay rent and have a job does not mean we have achieved adulthood. True maturity comes in waves. One’s ability to be present for life lessons dictates the level of growth that will result from said lessons. If we are able to recognize the learning that is inside each of these developmental phases, to take that learning and move on to the next level, then we are more likely to fulfill the truth of our personal destiny. Often we get stuck on one of the levels and can’t get past it, repeating the same mistakes over and over. We can spend a lifetime resetting the stage with new characters, new stage props, new mates, new jobs, and yet still find ourselves with the same sad result, over and over and over.
In Women Who Run With Wolves, I have found the guidance I have desperately needed to help me identify these sticking points, and to recognize the lessons that I am to learn inherent in the situation so I can move past it and onto the next level. I am a big fan of getting to the Next Level, no matter what it is. I had a dream two nights ago that I was playing Ms Pac Man and suddenly found myself on an entirely new screen, a level I hadn’t ever seen or heard of in all my 30 years of playing. I remember distinctly, in the dream, being so surprised and not having any familiarity with the new playing field, no muscle memory for the maze, and being completely enthralled with the new colors and sounds of it. Life is like this- I have only ever gotten to the fourth level on Ms Pac Man- for 30 years, that is the furthest I have been able to get. And in this dream, like in life, the goal is to get to the Next Level. Sobriety was just such a level- the entire world was a brand new thing, and I was like a new baby, literally reborn. Its taken a while to get used to it, to obtain any sort of mastery. This book has been like the guidebook for me, explaining the mazes, the meaning of personal symbols that keep resurfacing, the fears that keep me from moving forward, the natural instincts to hide in my life instead of question my belief systems and search for true liberation from the trappings of this world, and the bondage of my self.
I would suggest that any and every woman read this book! Make sure you have a highlighter handy. You will be shocked at how you find this book talking directly to the heart of you and where you are in your life. If you have my experience, you will find yourself shaking your head, thinking, “how the hell? Seriously, how the hell did she know this is exactly how I feel? Exactly what i need to hear?” And if you are a man, I also really suggest you read this book. It will not only give you some insight on women- and all men have a ton of women in their life- but very much of what is said of women is also true of men. Often we have the same wound, and limp on the same foot- and blame each other for it.
Here is the link, if you are up to the challenge. For me, Women Who Run With Wolves has been like the Big Book of AA- I’ve read and re-read it for the past 15 years, it is tattered and the spine is busted, and it is underlined, dogeared, and highlighted in several different colors. I suggest getting the hardcover, larger version- the small paperback version doesn’t really do it justice. This book could change your life, if you let it!
Here is the link, click here-Women Who Run With Wolves
My name is Legion (or, How Does Free Will fit into Recovery?)
MY NAME IS LEGION (or, how does free will fit into recovery?)
What is free will?
This is an age old question, and one I am not equipped to answer. But I am prepared to establish a good inquiry, because I think about it a lot. And I have some ideas, but they are by no means conclusions. Its more of an ongoing dialogue, and one that interests me quite a bit.
In AA there is a lot of talk about God’s Will. My understanding has always sort of been that God’s Will was the basic unfolding of life, without me trying to force my schemes and plans and such onto it. This seems pretty clear, right? But what if I exercised none of my own will, and operated only by God’s Will. Would God’s Will get me out of bed? Would God’s Will get my kids to school? Please understand me here, I am not IN ANY WAY questioning the beauty and grace of God’s Will. I am just wondering how it works with Free Will, with my Will. How they work together, and how they don’t.
When I really give it some thought, it takes MY free will to do God’s Will. I have to freely succumb to the way life is unfolding, and it is my will that gives me the commitment to take on the next indicated action, my will that allows me to choose to pause when agitated, to recognize when my personality is trying to trump my principles. I read recently that, in steps 6 and 7, becoming entirely ready to have God remove our defects of character and to humbly remove our shortcomings, the point is that we have to ask. We become ready to have them removed because we finally understand, after a thorough inventory, what slaves we have been to the damn things. It has to be our free will that willingly asks for them to be removed. We have to want it. It was suggested that God can only work with our free will in that department- for our shortcomings to be lifted without our first asking would be sort of like a cosmic cheat. We have to be willing to let them go. WILLING. Without our willingness, none of it can happen. And WILLingness is our own Free Will in action, choosing the light over the darkness.
Free Will In Action
And at times our free will doesn’t choose the light. We all know this, it’s the basis of all religions and spiritual journeys. It’s the fundamental sticking point. It is what makes choosing the light such an diabolical challenge, and also the single most relevant victory- because the dark can be so incredibly seductive and compelling. It knows our weak spots, maybe better than we do. My character defects are tools for the darkness- I get a feeling that my fears, my insecurities, my judgementalness or desire to be liked, my hanging on to old hurts and behaving from that wounded, entitled, place of long suffering victimhood will ultimately be my undoing, if left unchecked. Its all Ego, or Disease, or however you like to call it. And it only wants one thing- to dismantle me until I am a walking black hole, or six feet under-whichever comes first.
I don’t know with any certainty about any of it, I only know that I wonder about it. I can’t possibly know the mind of God. And I can only try to know my own mind, and to try to overcome my own errant and self serving belief systems enough to see the truth. Its not a pretty thing, to do the work of getting to know how our minds operate. In my experience of step 7, asking God to humbly remove my shortcomings was not an instantaneous thing- I didn’t just ask, and then they were plucked out of my being like stray hairs. For me, I am constantly given situations that bring my character defects into the light, and if I do not examine them right then and there as they present themselves, then more of those situations will come until I understand the lesson, observe myself acting in the grip of said character defect, recognize it, and do something different. You have to be able to identify the broken part, to look at the damage, (Step 4 and 5) and then, at least for me, I have to see how they ‘work’ (or don’t) for me in my life- broken parts create broken results.
And like a game of Whack a Mole, they keep popping up, as there are a multitude of them, trying to run the show. Like the chapter of St Mark in the bible, when there is a man who is known to be filled with unclean spirits, who no man could tame, no chains could bind, who spent all the time crying and cutting himself with stones- is that not like so many of us, in the depth of our despair? And he came to Christ, and Jesus asked of the man “What is your name?” And he said, “My name is Legion, for we are many.” And so it is like that, we are possessed with so many defects and agendas and belief systems and fears and desires and addictions that when we are able to master the addictions to some extent, there is still the Legion, and only the light of truth is able to bring us back to a whole and holy state.
Here is another challenge, and its extremely tricky- we are very, very attached to the Legion. They have been ingrained in us, and we think they are intrinsic to who we are. What they do is rob us of the precious gift of Free Will. If we are behaving as puppets, reacting to external stimulus without thinking, just being ‘who we are’, then we are not in a state of choice. We are not practicing free will. We are just doing what we are programmed to do, like a microwave or a blender. We love our suffering and our chaos. We can’t live without our loneliness, our boredom, our dissatisfaction. We do things to create more suffering, more dissatisfaction- on autopilot, nonetheless. Autopilot! We don’t even know it. We just call it life. But there is so much more to it.
Steps 6 and 7 begin to really restore our free will to us. We get the opportunity to observe our actions and reactions, see what does not work, and choose something different. In that choosing, we are liberated from the slavery of our personal history, our robotic programming, our autopilot mode, our self sabotage. We have free will, and FREE is not an accidental designation; there IS freedom in it, there IS liberation in it. And that free will is free to choose to align itself with God’s Will. If it looks at all that is being offered, all the entire banquet of life with all its myriad choices, and chooses to act by principles in spite of the comforts the personality demands, then it has placed you squarely outside the prison walls, liberating you from the bondage of self. In that place, you can learn to trust that it is all unfolding just as it should and that there are no mistakes in God’s World. We pray for knowledge of God’s Will for us- that we will be guided and directed on our journey- And the power to carry that out- Our free will, used rightly, is that power. That is the ultimate freedom, more precious than any treasure. When you can walk in that truth is when you remember who you really are- “You are a child of the Universe, no less than the trees and the stars. You have a right to be here.”
You are a miracle. You are a gift. Believe it.
To Thine Own Self Be True
Stories. We all have them. We live by them. We tell them to ourselves and we tell them to others, we tell ourselves stories about others, and we tell others stories about ourselves. We live like they are true, even when they aren’t.
KNOW THYSELF
Before I got sober, (5 years ago in 4 days) I had no real awareness that I was living, entrenched, in my stories. I had done a lot of work on myself, and I had an intellectual understanding about it, but I couldn’t really get behind the stories to the truth of myself. About 10 years ago, I did a workshop that proposed that, at about the age of 5 or 6, something happens to us, all of us. It could be as horrifying as physical abuse or seemingly benign, such as not getting chosen for kickball, but the severity is all relative. It was a defining moment where we went from feeling like we were enough, just as we were, to believing that we were not enough, and that something was terribly wrong with us. We were suddenly not smart enough or pretty enough or thin enough or good enough- and this is true whether we are alcoholics, or addicts, or ‘normies’. At that moment, we write the script of our life. We spend the rest of our lives compensating, overcompensating, for that moment. People who felt abandoned will become needy, or the opposite. People who were not included or accepted into the group will decide to do everything in their power to be on the outskirts of the group or society (tattoos, mohawks-well, back when those things ostracized one from the pack. Not like modern days- this stuff is normal business attire nowadays…) Or, if they didn’t try to fit out, they did everything in their power to fit in- status seeking, ambitiously over achieving, people pleasing. Women who were mistreated would trade themselves for validation. The scenarios are endless. We all have our modus operandi, our way of navigating the world according to our story.
I am not saying that this explanation is exactly 100% true, but it bears consideration, and it sounds plausible to me. We do start to tell ourselves stories. And then we become our stories. One of the main features of the stories, however, is the built in sabotage factor. Limitations are crafted and woven into the fables of our lives, and it becomes nearly impossible to see them and separate them from reality (because they ARE our reality), although the sadder part of this equation is not that we can’t or don’t see them, its that we are attached to our limitations. Some would even say we are addicted to them.
I will gladly give examples of this in my life, especially ones that I have done work on and am starting to be liberated from. I have, for many years, swaggered around saying that I don’t want a relationship, that the whole love thing is BS. I created an untouchable, emotionally unavailable persona. I thought I was cool, that I was untouchable, that I didn’t need anybody or anything. To make matters worse, I wasn’t alone. Many women I knew had their own version of the ‘untouchable swagger’ going on- their own guards and survival tactics, their own self sabotaging armor, and what we would do is get together and talk about how emotionally unavailable men were. We couldn’t even see that we built the walls of our own prisons, brick by brick, and lamented how distant and unreachable others were. There came a time when I was called out- it doesn’t matter how it happened, except to say that in sobriety, we just get to know ourselves, we get known by others. And the process of knowing oneself is rarely anything but messy and uncomfortable. What I discovered is that really, I have very traditional values, and did believe in love and finding a lifelong mate, and in the necessity of family. I’m actually fairly old fashioned, truth be told. And here I was, 3000 miles away from my own family, who I see every 8 years or so, divorced with two kids, and determined to be romantically detached, the sole breadwinner, and never to co-habitate with a man again. What total bullshit! Seriously, I had told myself all these stories that were so NOT in alignment with my core self, all to protect myself from being hurt or disappointed. Its the ‘you can’t fire me, I quit’ syndrome. Or ‘sour grapes’. As long as I could fool myself that I didn’t want it, then it wouldn’t bother me that it didn’t work out anyway.
Like I said, it gets messy when you are getting to know yourself. You have to look at the life you built on the stories you’ve told. Honestly, it wasn’t the life I would have endeavored to build, if I had been honest with myself from the start. But its my life, and I love it; I wouldn’t be who I am if it had gone any other way. I am happy I got to wake up and see it for what it is, and also what it could be. I would hate to die and suddenly, as the curtains are closing, suddenly remember who I am and think, “No! I need a re-do! I didn’t mean it!”
Now what happens when you get to the truth and you are surrounded by the old life? You simply begin to live your truth, where you’re at. It shows up in your actions, and interactions. And parts of the old life start to crumble. Sometimes it really hurts to let it fall apart. The impulse is to fix it, to go into a panic and try to tape all the pieces back together- it is, after all, the only life you have ever known. But if you are committed to living your truth, you begin to have faith in the process. You let go and let it unfold. It sounds passive, but acceptance is not passive, far from it. Its hard work to trust. You have to fight your own self and your deep rooted fears. Your Ego/Disease flares up and starts laying on the lies and laying them on thick. “You aren’t good enough, you can’t do this, what are you thinking? YOU MIGHT GET HURT!”
TO THINE OWN SELF BE TRUE
Here is what I’ve decided. I might get hurt. Yep. In fact, I probably will. Maybe I won’t, but the thing is, so what? Can I not survive it? I think I can. I know I can. I don’t want to live a life where I am not risking the BIG STUFF. Not just romantically; I don’t want anyone to think this only applies to romance, its just the example I used. I could just as easily have talked about career, finances, mothering, legal issues, family of origin drama, body issues, anything. There is just no sense in playing small here. I wasn’t put on this planet to walk on eggshells.
When I was active in my disease, all I ever did was walk on eggshells. Every drink, every pill, every line, was another layer I was hiding behind, tiptoeing around the truth of me, hoping it wouldn’t wake up and call me out. We are very brave to get sober and drop that first layer, willingly. And we are braver still the more sober we get, and the closer we get to the truth of our very being. One thing I can tell you- we won’t be disappointed by what we find to be true, only that we kept it covered up for so long.
TEEN PROJECT’s the P.A.D. Venice Drop-In Center For Homeless Teens
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On February 11th, a dream came true. It’s one of those rare dreams that makes life better for others, and helps them make their dreams come true as well. TEEN PROJECT’S THE P.A.D. VENICE DROP IN CENTERTeen Project‘s The P.A.D. Drop In Center in Venice, California, held its ribbon cutting ceremony over the weekend and introduced the stylish resource center to the community. The center exists to help young adults who find themselves abruptly dropped from the Foster Care program at 18, with nowhere to go. |
 Justin Carroll at the The P.A.D. opening |
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Many of the kids exiting the foster care program end up on the street, homeless, and resorting to crime in order to take care of themselves. These kids are put on the street without money, shelter, or a job, usually with no real training or skill, some with trauma issues that need psych meds to stabilize them. Its not hard to imagine the kind of trouble they could get into just trying to survive. |
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Teen Project, founded by Laurie Burns, has worked with many of these young adults, connecting them to available resources such as Teen Meeting Places Program, National Mentoring Program, Sober College Housing, Project Shelter Collaboration, and The Text Shelter Service, among others. She herself has taken in dozens upon dozens of at risk, foster kids, and has committed herself to their well being. Laurie herself was a child of the Juvenile Dependency System, and her experiences at the hands of the system, as well as the result of being dropped at 18 without any home or means of providing for herself, is what inspired her to be of service to the clients of Teen Project. |
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 BJ Hickman, Bianca Fisher, David Hickman, and Ashley Dane at the P.A.D. Venice opening |
Justin Carroll of ONE80CENTER heard Laurie’s story and was so moved by what he heard that he committed himself to raising funds for the new Teen Project Drop In Center. He held a fund raising event at ONE80CENTER in Beverly Hills, where chanteuse Sarah Ault sang to a small audience of people who were clearly touched, as Justin had been, by Laurie’s story. And like Laurie, no one wanted another young person to ever go through what Laurie had been subjected to. |
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That night, ONE80CENTER was able to raise enough money (over $80,000) for Laurie and Teen Project LA that it funded the new TEEN PROJECT P.A.D. DROP IN CENTER. The new center will be a place that homeless teens and young adults can come to who have no where else to go. Teen Project will then connect the teen with whatever it is they need- food, shelter, job training, medical assistance, substance abuse help,mentors, jobs- each young adult will be assessed and assisted as they transition into adulthood. |
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The Center itself is a lovely space. 8 interior designers volunteered to create colorful, warm spaces with clean lines, such as the mezzanine area. The walls are greyish blue with wallpaper that looks like paved stones, and hot pink cushions with slate blue carpet. The red Eames chairs in the reception area are a far cry from the institutional chairs found in most places that provide services to the disenfranchised, Such a small but well thought out detail instantly gives one a feeling of being welcome, and of being in the right place. |
 Inside the P.A.D. drop in center for homeless teens in Venice |
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The overall effect of the well appointed space is that ‘everything is going to be okay’. ONE80CENTER remains heavily involved on an ongoing basis with the homeless organization GETT LOVE, as well as its own non profit, 12 ANGELS, which helps find jobs for people in recovery. Fund raising is yet another aspect; Justin Carroll picks the charities for ONE80CENTER to champion, to help improve their effectiveness and insure they achieve their goals. This could be through fund raising, or it could be through aligning the staff and clients with the organizations to help in a hands-on kind of way. As Laurie Burn’s cut the ribbon to the entrance of the new facility, one couldn’t help but feel the goosebumps standing up all along the back of one’s arms. Knowing the journey it took for her to be standing there, scissors in hand, really brought the concept of turning one’s life around to be of extreme service to others to light. And knowing the team of people who supported her vision, who were willing to contribute time and money to make it real, brings to mind the strength of community and the enduring feature of humanity (in spite of evidence to the contrary all over the news) which is to help each other. Teen Project is proof. For all the suffering there is in the world, there are people who have survived who want to help, and people who want to help the survivors. As the Desiderata says- “With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, its still a beautiful world.” It is. |
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“Why This Is A Big Deal For Us” – ONE80CENTER & Dr. Andrew Leeds by Dr. Stephen Dansiger
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more »An Evening With Marianne Williamson
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