Tag Archives: Stress

Becoming the friend you want to be

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friendshipWhen I used to try to kick heroin by the second night my brain would be up caught in a video loop of every terrible thing I ever did to anyone who ever cared about me.  I’d never been held accountable for the majority of it. Only I knew how far I’d fallen from being the kind of person I wanted to be. I loved my family, my husband, and my friends yet at the end I was alone. It was my form of damage control. I hated what and who I’d become and I couldn’t stop using. I was truly hopeless. Nothing stirred the heart-sickness in me more than replaying the ways I’d behaved with the people who’d cared. The pain this caused was so unbearable that I could never stay clean through it. I always picked up on the third day.

I’ve watched countless addicts go through this exact same process while detoxing.  Witnessing their despair while the unrelenting disease of addiction kept replaying these old tapes, I was able to make a connection between these specific feelings and the addict’s overpowering obsession to use again.  Despite all the other major destruction we create while using, it is the shame, remorse, guilt, and regret from the pain we have caused others, from seeing the evidence that we are no longer the person we know we can be, are meant to be, that causes us the most grief when we are getting clean and in early recovery.

When we get clean we usually aren’t aware of when we bring old behaviors into new friendships until there are consequences. How many times have you canceled plans with a friend at the last minute because something more exciting came along or because you just didn’t feel like doing anything never considering that it showed a lack of respect for someone else’s time? Or worse, lied to get out of a commitment and got caught? When have you given an honest unsolicited opinion and not realized how hurtful it was until your friend stopped calling you back?

Each of us have our own moral compass that guides us to live in accordance with our higher self. We usually know when we’re off course by a feeling in our gut that tells us something is not right. This is a good thing. It teaches us how to be the person we truly want to be. In recovery we learn how to be a better friend – and this matters because when we hurt people in recovery, not only do we feel shame, guilt, remorse and regret, our disease will start to play the old tapes of a lifetime of bad behavior to others and amplifies our shame. These feelings have the power to trigger cravings again.

What qualities do you value most in a friend? Do you value loyalty, trust, support, a sense of humor, someone who accepts you without judgment? Someone who is forgiving? What else is important to you? Does this describe you?

To get an honest appraisal of your friend-skills ask yourself these questions. Also note  when your behaviors line up with what you’ve listed as qualities you value in a friend.

Do you play different roles – strong with some and helpless with others?

Are you a people pleaser continually brushing aside feelings of resentment or anger?

Are you a giver or a taker or do you fall somewhere in the middle?

Are you a fixer or the friend always asking for advice?

Do you strategically seek out friendships that get you closer to the dream job or a person of romantic interest?

Do you have friendships of convenience but you never get invested emotionally?

Do you sustain long-term relationships, and if so what do those relationships look like.

The difficult part is to see where your behavior benefits you in some way.  When you are giving is it because there is something you want in return? Do you manipulate others to get your own way? Do you use guilt or the silent treatment rather than communicate how you feel?  Do you keep score? Do you ask for advice to avoid personal responsibility?

Some of you will be pleasantly surprised to discover that you are what you seek. Anyone new to recovery may find this exercise very uncomfortable – but don’t despair because there is a solution.  List every behavior that you want to eliminate and for the next week make a conscious effort to take the opposite action. Put in some effort and change happens. You’re worth it.

 

 

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With Willingness We Find Our Way

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We all have different paths (and are entitled to them) but we share the same goal – freedom from self-inflicted pain, a loving relationship with self, and to find inner peace.  As long as we have willingness, we will find our way.

I have a friend in recovery who HATES it when I break things down in terms of the “disease” of addiction. Although she has been clean for four years and attends 12 Step meetings, she has never been able to open her mind up to the possibility that addiction is a disease. For me, the disease concept is the one thing that’s made it possible to unravel my twisted thinking and impulsive wiring toward self-destructive behaviors and has allowed me to develop new skills to break the cycles.

In her defense, I have always had the same sort of recoil from talk about higher powers, although conceptually I see how beneficial they are to the process of finding meaning and safety. In either case, a certain amount of fantasy and creative imagining has to be invested – though there is neurological evidence of the brain disease of addiction. My friend has made it clean four years without a disease concept or a God.  She has made it on willingness to follow direction from people who have more experience dealing with life clean and sober. That has been enough for her.

At two years clean she developed an eating disorder. We were just getting to know one another while I was in her city when she confided to me a violent episode that had happened in her youth. From the moment I returned to New York and our friendship turned to instant messages and emails, it became apparent that her anxiety was going through the roof. She was crying all the time and her legs were cramping uncontrollably.  She was sleeping two or three hours a night and forgetting to eat. Whatever suggestions I gave, she’d forget as soon as we said good-bye. At first it was impossible for me to understand why she wasn’t taking any sort of self-care actions when she was so clearly in physical and emotional pain. It only made sense when she told me that I was the first person she’d ever told the story about the abuse.

It made perfect sense to me what was going on when I broke it down in “disease” terms. Something terrible had happened to her. She was a victim yet carried the blame and shame. The disease loves blame, shame, and secrets. For fifteen years this had been her secret. While her love for her young daughters was the impetus for getting clean and attending meetings to stay clean, she’d chosen a sponsor who used her as a babysitter and was uninterested in moving her forward in step work. In fact, as her weight fell away and she decided to go to therapy at my insistence, her sponsor shamed her over it, saying that she looked great and it was all in her head – as if she’d concocted the anxiety to get attention. It was a replay of the relationship she’d had with her adoptive mother.  Every step of the way toward seeking help, her disease struck harder. The trauma she’d experienced at 15 continued to hold her down.  This wasn’t surprising considering most addicts have trauma in their background. Whether we used because of the trauma or if it was a catalyst to fuel the disease is like asking the chicken and the egg question. The facts on paper: 30 year old woman with an addict birth mother, drug and alcohol use, sexual trauma at 15 and an increase of drug abuse – rehab at 28.  Shedding light on her secret was followed by extreme anxiety that preceded anorexia.

In recovery terms, there were actions that could have helped but she was incapable of taking them. To her credit – and I believe this should be typed in bold for anyone reading this paralyzed by feelings and behaviors yet unable to take action – she continued to attend meetings throughout the next eighteen months of physical and emotional hell and new women came into her life with substantial clean time and they led her to a new sponsor. This carried her until she was ready to get help.  She hated going to meetings, hated hearing about the disease and about God but she went anyway. I believe WILLINGNESS is the launch of an arrow, its tip cutting through space changing all of the molecules in its path.  It causes change to happen.

The most interesting thing to me in witnessing anorexia in action is that early in the process, there were very strong parallels to how the disease of addiction works and the tools we use in recovery may have altered its course. At a certain point the anorexia took on its own twist and it needed very different tools to heal it.  Ultimately the process will involve intensive trauma work.

I began writing this blog entry because I wanted to discuss the disease concept and how grasping a thorough working definition will help you to address any issues, past or present, in order to have sustainable long term recovery. It has been a very long and difficult path for my friend but through trial and error she is discovering for herself that the disease concept gives our creative mind a chance to understand how it operates on us individually so that we can change its course before it either leads us in a direction of relapse or toward death by other means.

In upcoming blogs, I’ll be writing more about my theory of the disease of addiction and a way to gain an understanding of how it seems to trick us into behaviors away from health, wellness, and inner peace and how recovery tools really can combat it.

This friend wrote a blog that I posted earlier this year for Eating Disorder Awareness Month. I am very happy to announce that she is currently seeking help at an inpatient treatment facility. I believe she will flourish and become a positive power of example to many others she will encounter on her journey. I have her permission to write this entry.

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What do you mean – give myself a break?

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give yourself a break I used to cringe whenever anyone told me to “give myself a break”. In early recovery my head was always racing between regrets and future tripping. I couldn’t make sense of all the emotions that were creating anxiety so whenever anyone told me to give myself a break all I felt was shame as if it was my fault that I was feeling this inner turmoil. The funny thing is that hearing these words   hit my “pause” switch causing my attention to turn to something else and I would feel a little better. This saying is like a communal Band-Aid recovering addicts share with one another. We pass it around blindly without instruction or explanation. Our brains have been wired to function according to whatever substance we have been using. When we get clean it has to readjust to functioning without drugs. This is what I call the “landing back in our bodies” phase. It’s like the GPS in the car. If you program a location and then take a different route what happens? The   GPS starts freaking out “Reconfigure! Reconfigure!” Well, that’s what our brain is doing in early recovery. While we can turn off a GPS to get some peace and quiet, it’s harder to turn off our thinking.   Human Beings experience internal monologues. The reason it’s important for addicts in recovery to have tools to cope with this inner chatter is because usually it’s the source of our anxiety. If we feel bad enough long enough getting high or having a drink will present itself as the logical remedy for our discomfort. We spend more time trying to think our way into thinking less yet we can give ourselves a break at any time by turning our attention to something beautiful in nature to calm our spirit. This could be the color of the sky or the clouds you see from your window, a tree or a flower – whatever is close at hand.  You can spare a couple minutes to flip your switch. Pay close attention to your breathing. Again, this can be done anywhere. Mouth closed, feel the air moving in and out of your nostrils. Notice if it feels colder going in and warmer going out. Maybe you’ll become aware of your heartbeat. When we put the attention on our body and come into the moment, our awareness grows. This isn’t to say that you’re head’s not going to resist at first. “You don’t have the time. You should phone ____.  Finish what you’re doing. You can do the mindfulness shit later. Looking out the window isn’t going to change anything”. The disease-mind will always try to resist yet this is exactly the dialogue you’re giving yourself a break from. We can’t think our way into living in the moment.  It’s unfortunate that our response to reality is to find ways to escape it.  Giving yourself a break means not allow yourself to be a prisoner of your mind. This spinning out of control negative self-talk has got to go. Peace of mind is possible.

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My varieties of transformative experience/spiritual experience

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A really strange thing keeps happening to me. I keep feeling “lucky” to be here. Not in the usual “I’m lucky to be alive” or “lucky to be clean” gratitude way. It’s more that I feel lucky that I’m getting to have this experience of being on earth. It keeps washing over me in an exciting positive way – but I have to admit it’s weird to think about. It makes me feel like a visitor.

I’ll never forget when it first happened. I came face to face with a black panther on a deserted farm road.in Ontario.  It was a totally unexplainable situation because panthers aren’t indigenous to Canada, never mind one hour from the largest city in the country. I’d stopped my bicycle on an isolated farm road when it stepped out of the woods, made eye contact with me then assumed a crouched attack position from twenty or thirty feet. I wrote about it here: http://pattypowersnyc.blogspot.com/2011/10/death-defying-summer-vacation.html.

 

During that split-second when I averted my gaze to take what I assumed was my final look at the blue sky and the green landscape, the beauty of it all, my only thought was how lucky I’ve been able to be here to have experienced this beautiful planet.  Even while I was thinking this I knew it was a weird response to the situation.panther_field

Another time I was watching the Mars Rover landing when the camera turned and captured our planet. This time when I was swept with this feeling it was accompanied by gratitude that brought me to tears. Lately it’s been occurring on a regular basis wherever I am – minus the tears.  I can’t really explain it any better than I feel lucky. For me, this feeling isn’t connected to any particular God. I suppose it’s possible I’ve finally acquired enough inner peace that I’m more conscious of where I am and appreciative of the small (or big) things.  It’s not a voice in my head that says, “Look how beautiful this planet is” It says, “I’m so lucky I get to be here.” It’s a joyful feeling that co-mingles with a deep sense that there’s absolutely no point in sweating the small shit.

In program terms, my second step has been a continuous process of coming to believe. I haven’t really found a belief shingle to hang up yet – just my own bag of quirky spiritual experiences. Sometimes they’re so bizarre I have to roll my eyes at myself. Usually I’m embarrassed to admit them to anyone. In fact, I was planning to write this article about how alienating it is for people who have accumulated a lot of clean time to have the arrogance to tell any other member of their fellowship what they can or cannot say when sharing at a meeting. Instead I’m writing about my most private spiritual moments.

A few years ago  I was continually having discussions with myself on life and it’s meaning to me. I’d gone as far as to ask myself if I would be okay if my last living breath extinguished me for eternity – no reincarnation, no eternal universal energy. And – I was.  I figured if this was all there was I’d better pay attention.

A week after this conversation with myself I was in Miami with a friend searching for a Haitian psychic to read her cards. (Yes – this was how I spent the leisure time on my vacation!) We ended up in sort of voodoo/wiccan/spiritual/new age bookstore being told that for twenty bucks we could attend a past life regression group hypnosis.  It sounded like a kooky enough way to end my vacation.

Two-dozen people gathered in the backroom of the bookstore. One by one, we went around the room disclosing why we were there. While everyone was trying to get clarity on a current relationship, I was simply there for the ride. I’m like that kid in the commercial who’ll eat anything. I’ll try anything.

The hypnotist began counting backward. This was my experience.

It was dark and there was a  light muted in fog in the distance. I was trying to make sense of where I was. It reminded me of a dock on a lake and the light was coming from the far end of the dock. As I got closer I was engulfed in the fog and white light and was filled by a sense of excitement and playfulness. This permeated the entire experience. Next I was pulled into a bright white light. There was nagging sensation of weight somewhere although my joy kept propelling me through the light and into the darkness of outer space. Suddenly I was passing stars. My consciousness realized what was happening and I was filled with questions but understood they didn’t matter. In the distance were two pulsating blue lights and I knew that’s where I was heading. The whole thing was like a crazy sci-fi movie but I felt so happy I didn’t hesitate to speed forward. When I arrived at the blue lights I became blue light, like a firefly among fireflies dancing on a star. Again, there was a peculiar sense of weight somewhere. I wanted to ask questions and understand there was no need.

When the hypnotist’s voice announced he would begin counting backwards I looked down and saw a hole I could jump through to get back.  I jumped and passed though a wall of gas and fire, back through space passing stars, through the white light, the fog and the darkness until I was back in my body on the bookstore floor in North Miami.  I experienced my weight subjectively in a way that’s impossible to describe. I was unable to move for a good 30 seconds.

The experience was like déjà vu of an acid trip I’d had when I was twelve or thirteen although this had been different because of the complete and utter joy I’d felt. This has clung to me. When my worries pop up I remind myself that my pure essence is joy and playfulness and that I shouldn’t sweat the small shit.  Again, I’m filled by a profound sense that I am okay. There is no need to worry about anything.

I’m always up for any sort of adventure and have a very creative mind so I have questioned whether or not I made this all up. I know the panther was real because there were seven more sightings of it that summer but the rest – who knows? Was I blue light dancing on a star? Does it matter? Am I am visitor? Are we all just visitors?   I don’t even care if there are answers to these questions. Maybe my experiences were a self-induced hallucination or maybe they are my version of spiritual experience – something that has been transformative, lessened my fear and helped to make me more present in this life. I’m happy I had them – whatever they were

I’ve always been the sort of person who gets bored easily. In the 24 years I’ve been clean, it’s never gotten boring. In fact, the really good stuff seems to have started happening after twenty years clean. I’m talking about the good stuff on the inside. It’s like I’ve been opening new doors that are making me a happier person. If this is what it’s like at 24 years, I can’t even imagine what it might be like at 30.  My inner life keeps getting more fun and the benefits aren’t fleeting. I’m sure it’s different for everyone but if you ask around I can pretty much guarantee that old-timers will tell you that all the work you’re doing is well worth it for what you are going to get back.

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Eating Disorders in Recovery & our response to them

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National Eating Disorder Awareness Week (Feb. 24-March 2, 2013)

In 1990, I saw the profoundly disturbing movie Eating by Henry Jaglom. Prior to this, I was oblivious to eating disorders. The film was about a group of women cooking for a celebration. Throughout the film, they individually act out in their respective eating disorders. Watching their secrecy, shame, self-loathing, and powerlessness triggered an overwhelming sense memory in me. What they were feeling was no different than how I felt shooting coke in a locked bathroom. It made me realize how similar eating disorders were to addiction. Seeing this film helped me to feel empathy and compassion for my women friends who continued to struggle with bulimia even after years in recovery.

Our society isn’t very compassionate toward people who have diseases that manifest in self-destruction.  “How can I feel sorry for him? No one is putting a gun to his head forcing him to take heroin.”  While society is finally becoming educated in substance abuse and depression, eating disorders make people uncomfortable. It is cruel when adjectives such as lazy, greedy, and glutinous are used to describe over-eaters and those suffering from obesity. It is just as cruel to pretend there isn’t a disease affecting the health of a friend. People in 12-Step meetings become uncomfortable, even angry, if a member shares about vomiting after meals even if they share that this behavior makes them want to get high. The  whispering and dissing of the “skinny girl” is harmful and hateful. Eating disorders do not arise out of thin air. Childhood pain, violence, trauma, abuse, and sexual abuse are often at the core.

Recovering addicts and alcoholics with eating disorders are fortunate to already have a language to describe their experience. They have recovery tools and support. They know how to walk into a fellowship for their specific eating disorder and ask for help.  Yet, even with this leg-up, the road to ED recovery is riddled with potholes. I know many women with decades clean and sober whose recovery from bulimia continues to be two steps forward one step back. Binge eating relapses keep them trapped in a cycle of shame, self-berating, hopelessness, and despair even while they are role models of recovery in their primary 12-Step group.

Sustainable recovery from eating disorders is very difficult and painful and we (society as a whole and those of us fortunate to be in recovery ourselves) should be extending kindness, support, and compassion to anyone who is suffering so that they do not have to isolate in secrecy and shame. We can help by encouraging them to be honest and courageous, and by guiding them to professionals who can give them the help they need. Our generosity and love does not have to be insular. We have enough that it can be shared beyond the confines of our particular substance abuse group.

A dear friend in recovery became anorexic this past year. At first, I tried helping by applying what works to cut through the denial and arrest the disease of addiction but this was different. I realized she needed professional help and we found a therapist willing to work within her budget. After several months, it was clear that she needed a higher level of care – inpatient. Unfortunately, unlike drug addiction, there is very little help available in America for anorexics without financial resources. Anorexia Nervosa is a disease that leads to death – if not from starvation, it can cause a heart attack, fainting behind the wheel, shattered bones, and major organs shutting down. Many anorexics commit suicide before their bodies fail. Yet even with the high suicide rate statistics, there is very little help offered to people without $30,000 to spare or comprehensive health insurance. In my friend’s case though, it’s going to take more than good insurance or extra cash in the bank. Even after being discharged from therapy and told she needs a higher level of care, the denial continues to convince my friend that this disease can be self-managed.

No one could force me to get clean and I can’t force her into inpatient treatment. I hope she becomes willing. I continue to encourage her to not give up, to pray to whatever she believes in or doesn’t believe in, to blindly ask the universe or her own heart to guide her to safety so she can live. She asked me to dedicate this week’s blog in honor of Eating Disorder Awareness Week.

You may have friends in recovery living in shame, guilt and secrecy, suffering from an eating disorder they have not made public. These friends are your opportunity to practice empathy, compassion, tolerance and patience. Help them to feel safe enough to bring their ED out of the darkness. Eating disorders are not gender specific. Men this is your opportunity to bring your ED out of the closet so other men will not feel so alone. Together, in loving kindness, we can all recover.

For anyone reading this blog who may be suffering from an eating disorder, there is plenty of information online for local helplines, resources, 12 step groups. Not everyone needs to go to a treatment facility. Most eating disorders can be arrested and a healthy recovery can occur using a combination of 12 step meetings, therapy, trauma work (such as EMDR or gestalt therapy), and Dialectic Behavioral Therapy (DBT) groups, mindfulness (such as meditation, yoga, breathing exercises). Your life is worth it.

The following is a guest blog written by my friend who has Anorexia Nervosa. I asked her to write about her inner experience living with this disease. Perhaps next year she will be able to share her recovery from this illness.

eating disorders kill

 

Anorexia? WTF Happened?

During the course of this vicious anorexia cycle, I have confided consistently with one person. This alone may have saved my life— so far.

I don’t exactly remember when the idea had surfaced that I had an eating disorder.  At some point in late 2011 something started happening internally that resulted in an increase of anxiety, not sleeping, not eating, horrible leg cramps, night terrors, depression, anger, and hopelessness.  By April 2012 I had been in therapy for five months and remember feeling completely disconnected from my body. My mind was constantly spinning and I had 3 years clean from drugs and alcohol. I wanted to escape the screaming in my head and the pressure I constantly felt. Using and suicide bounced in and out of my mind.

I had slowly stopped eating. Well- I wouldn’t eat a couple days, but then would eat a few days and be fine. I didn’t really obsess over it and it was just one of those habits I think I had always had- since childhood. The idea of eating never really mattered to me much and the thoughts of over eating (or watching others over eat) grossly disgusted me. My frame is naturally small and the most weight I had ever gained was through both my pregnancies which I absolutely hated. Even though I had lost all the weight I had gained through my practically back to back pregnancies, my body was left with deep stretch marks which leave me with a strange self-conscience feeling I still have to this day.

Eventually, my first therapist kicked me out after about 10 minutes of what ended up being our last session. She looked at my sick body and advised me to come back after I sought help for my eating disorder. I hadn’t really talked much to this therapist but felt extreme anxiety when I knew I had an appointment that day and felt like I had been hit by a bus when I left. I don’t remember talking to her too much about anorexia.

Over the last year, I’m not sure why I have constantly denied that I could have an eating disorder. Most of the last year and a half has consisted of not eating, weighing myself obsessively, checking my BMI to see if I’m actually underweight (thinking that as my BMI is normal than I must not have a problem), puking every 3-4 days when I do actually eat, migraines, performing google searches about eating disorders, crying, punching walls, throwing chairs, anger, hiding out…

My health has been questionable. My digestive system feels fucked up. My heart rate and cholesterol are high. I’m almost positive I am anemic. I’ve passed out, lost track of time, been in four car accidents, fallen asleep at the wheel.  I have severe leg cramps every night which leave me falling down. I lost 30 lbs on my already somewhat small frame in the course of 4-5 month period and my weight was declining weekly. People were commenting on my body and it infuriated me when they questioned if I ate or if they told me that I’m getting too thin. I read articles and books about how to get help. I went to eating disorder meetings. I wrote letters to the fucking universe expressing my anger and pain and needing help.

Yet with all of the evidence pointing toward the clear fact that I do have an eating disorder problem, I continued to fight it (I still fight it).

I want help and I don’t want help. I want to fix my own problems and my own pain. I don’t want to let one more person close to me. I don’t want to become vulnerable.

I did eventually go to another therapist who specializes in eating disorders. I made as much of an effort as possible to kick this shit and feel better. I deactivated my gym membership, I gave up my scale, I wrote food logs. The terms were up front from the beginning with her. I had to stay honest. I had to do the work. If after a certain amount of time, no progress was made with my health, than she would recommend a higher level of treatment. This was and is one of my greatest fears. Needless to say, I was discharged in January of this year from my second therapist.

I actually made it to 4 years clean in January but feel like I am living my life in active addiction. I feel like I am in a downward spiral but not sure exactly what I am willing to do to get better. I still fantasize about all of this just disappearing on its own.  I feel like my mind is playing tricks on me. I tell myself things like this: I haven’t thrown up in a while now, I ate twice every day for 5 days in a row (only skipping two days of meals), I haven’t weighed myself since being at Publix two weeks ago, I am sleeping more than I had been sleeping, and that I haven’t lost any weight since my last therapy session. All of these things I tell myself eventually convince me that I can fix this by myself because I am obviously doing better than I was when this ‘eating disorder’ surfaced.

I absolutely hate everything about anorexia. I hate what is happening and feel trapped. I hate feeling like  there is something wrong with me and that I can’t control any of this. These are the same thoughts I have about addiction. I despise them both. I hate the internal fight of wanting to die and live all at once. And I hate feeling like I am being attacked by one or the other, if not both

Fuck addiction. Fuck anorexia.

Truth is- with all of my denial, anxiety, rage, depression, etc. –   I do hope that I continue to hold on until I get better.

 

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Is there a faster way to learn patience?

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Vigilance – the process of paying close and continuous attention; wakefulness, watchfulness

Never-give-up

“Vigilance is especially susceptible to fatigue”

Staying in the recovery process requires vigilance. If change takes time and fatigue is the enemy of vigilance –what’s an addict to do? The answer is simple: we need to learn patience.

We want what we want when we want it and our society caters to this fact. The 60’s invented fast food drive-thru restaurants and instant add-water meals. God knows no one has time to wait for anything. If we don’t see results immediately, we lose interest in going to the gym. We can now get liposuction if we don’t have patience to diet. Who has the time to wash and cut vegetables, never mind prepare an entire meal? If we have to wait for anything our first thought is “What’s the point?” and then we lose interest – whether it’s in learning a new skill, preparing a healthy meal, or sitting to meditate. If we can’t be at yoga within minutes of leaving the house, forget it. And I’m not even factoring being a recovering addict into this rant. Everyone is born hungry.

While lacking patience can have consequences for anyone, for addicts impatience can lead to the “fuckits” – the precursor to relapse. This is why we have to keep being reminded that recovery is an ongoing process and that it requires vigilance.

In early recovery, it feels like we’re constantly being hit by an onslaught of feelings. After years of dulling or numbing ourselves with substances, the reawakening of our emotions is new to us. Fear seems to lie underneath every sensation. Even joy can be accompanied by the sensation of waiting for the other shoe to drop. Anger makes us want to use, sadness makes us want to vanish from existence. We look at other people in recovery who seem to be at peace with themselves and we want to know how they got that way. We want to be like them right away. We expect recovery to give us instant results. “I worked my steps and go to therapy but I’m still a mess. What am I doing wrong?” Instead of accepting that change occurs over time, we blame ourselves.

Sometimes we can will things to happen – or so it seems. It could just be that everything aligned and we get what we want right away. Instead of it being an isolated incident, it makes us think if we don’t get things right away, we mustn’t be doing something right. Anxiety builds and patience evaporates. Enduring time passing is not the same as being patient. Being patient is an act of faith – faith that time will pass and things will change – however they will change. Patience is not counting the days and minutes.

People always ask, “What’s the trick? What work can I do to acquire patience quickly?” (Yes I’ve really been asked this). Translated, I think they’re admitting that they understand the concept “change happens slowly over time” but want to know how can they exist inside of this unknowable timeframe without having an anxiety attack or pulling their hair out. The trick is to create mindfulness habits so they can slow themselves down – whether it’s by quieting the mind or reducing physical anxiety. This makes not only the passage of time more bearable; it will probably be more enjoyable.

There is so much information readily available on mindfulness techniques and practices. A quick search of Google or YouTube can bring up thousands of links. When I was in early recovery I couldn’t focus my attention on anything for very long before I felt like I was crawling out of my skin. The idea of meditation was nice but I drank far too much coffee to attempt it. I’d overthink everything and believed I’d need to take a class, join a group or read a book on it before I could start. If I was going to meditate, I wanted to do it right. Truthfully, it was easier to sit in a café with my friends drinking coffee than it was to set aside 20 minutes to try to quiet my mind. No one ever explained to me that if I could set aside this time, I wouldn’t feel that “crawling out of my skin” feeling as often or as intensely. Had I known what the payoff was going to be I might have tried it sooner. I was resistant because, deep down, I equated meditation with edgelessness. Now I know that is not  the case.

There are a few quick tricks anyone can do throughout the day. They are pretty low-effort but you’ll feel results immediately. You can do them at any time, anywhere.

Start by taking a few deep breaths. Get on your tiptoes and reach up over your head and stretch out all the way through your arms to your fingertips and wiggle your fingers until you feel the stretch go all the way to through your fingertips. Lift one foot off the ground and rotate your ankles and stretch out your toes. Now do the other foot. Meanwhile flex and release your leg muscles. With one hand to the sky and the other pointing to the ground lean to the left and feel the stretch move down your sides. Do the opposite side. Tilt your pelvis forward and backward then rotate your hips in a circular motion and reverse the direction. Roll your shoulders in a circular motion and reverse. Tilt your head all the way forward and all the way back, and then try to touch each ear toward your shoulder. Roll your head slowly in a clockwise circle several times then reverse. Squeeze your shoulders up toward your ears and release. Do this several times. Now bend forward and let your arms hang. Swing from left to right and slowly move up your body, both arms swinging from side to side. Raise your arms over your head and bring your hands together and lower them toward your heart. By now your body should feel relaxed and energized. You can do all of this in less than 5 minutes as often throughout the day as you can remember. In fact, why not schedule it into your phone now to do 5 times during the day until it becomes a habit.

Take a look around. Pay attention to the immediate details to your surroundings. It doesn’t matter whether you’re standing at the back of a restaurant or on the sidewalk, pay attention to the colors, the light, and the sounds. This brings you into the moment. When you are in the moment, fear doesn’t have power over you. By existing in the moment, you’ll be less distracted by your thoughts.

Another quick decompressing trick you can do is to take ten deep slow breaths. Inhale through your nose until your lungs and belly have expanded as far as they can and then blow all this air out through your mouth until you are completely empty. You should be feeling the muscles in your chest and stomach relaxing with each inhalation and exhalation. It may feel like your heart is racing but it’s really just the awareness of your heart and your body. It’s nothing to worry about.

By stretching and breathing, you’ll become conscious of your body and breath so this next trick will be quite easy to do. Whether your eyes are open or closed, feel the air moving into your nostrils. It should feel slightly cool on its way in and warmer on its way out. Control it by inhaling and exhaling slightly longer. Most likely you’ll have to yawn several times. Feel the stretch in your jaw when you do. By doing this exercise you’re going to start noticing the way the air feels entering and exiting your nostrils throughout the day. You’re building a relationship with your physical body and an awareness of the moment you are in.

You’re probably wondering what any of this has to do with patience and vigilance. By creating these habits and incorporating them into your daily routine early in recovery, you are exercising some discipline over how time is being spent. It gives you control over how you want to feel physically and emotionally. Less anxiety means less fear. And fear is what sends signals that say, “If it’s going to feel like this, why bother ?” Less fear means less pain. Vigilance is not giving up.

We are like a porcelain vase that fell off a table and shattered across the floor. A lot of damage has been done. We gather up the pieces and enter recovery hoping someone will tell us how to put it back together. And people tell us how – but they also say, “It takes time.” We start going through all the pieces and start to figure out what fits where so we can put the vase back together again. It takes time and patience but we know the pieces will eventually all fit. If we approach this task in a hurried, stressed out way, we’ll make a mess of it and end up taking longer to get it done. By practicing some mindfulness, we are able to enjoy the process and we’ll feel excited when it begins to look like a vase again. It takes vigilance and patience to put ourselves back together. Honestly, if the payoff didn’t exceed the work we put into recovery, no one would stay clean. This payoff is why we keep blindly moving forward even when we can’t see what’s ahead. Patience teaches us that the real prize is the journey.


 

 

 

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The Upside of Shame

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Regrets. I’ve had a few, but then again, too few to mention. (My Way, Frank Sinatra)

Wouldn’t you love to be able to hit rewind and delete entire episodes out of your past rather than have to deal with the fallout clean and sober?

When I used to try to kick dope, the physical withdrawal was nothing compared to the  movies playing non-stop in my head of every single thing I ever did or said that made me feel like shit. It always touched on the things that hurt or betrayed the people I loved (whether they knew it or not) like birthday money from my folks I’d blown on coke, the time my dad drove from Toronto to Buffalo to meet a flight I’d forgotten about, relationships I’d discarded, friends I’d lost, the time I left my dog in my apartment while I spent a weekend on the Virgin Islands. It was all there in living color, the shit I did, accompanied by a gnawing soul-sickness.

The behaviors we engage in that fuel the beast don’t completely disappear when we get clean. The “disease” gets a lot of mileage from shame. Whenever we act out in our selfish or thoughtless behaviors in recovery and feel bad, thoughts of using pop up – always an unconscious antidote to our negative feelings. The way out of this cycle is in repairing damage we have caused and learning how to do things differently. Recovery gives us the opportunity to change.

On a positive note, guilt and remorse are natural healthy feelings because they let us know we are not psychopaths.

It’s through these feelings that we build our moral backbone in recovery. This moral compass lets us know how far we have strayed from our own deepest beliefs and values. They teach us right from wrong, teach us how to be loving – toward ourselves and others, toward animals and nature. We don’t learn this by having debates, or philosophizing over coffee with our friends, or because family, religion or the courts shoved a moral code at us. We discover morality through our feelings. And they never lie. They let us know when we do something that betrays our very nature.

Shame is the real killer for addicts because shame is personal. It’s how we feel about ourselves in the privacy of our own mind. How are we supposed to take care of ourselves, love ourselves, if we believe we are worthless? “We are as sick as our secrets” is true because shame is so personal. Guilt says, “What you did was horrible.” Shame says, “ You are horrible.” Secrets nurture shame – so get rid of them.

Imagine – even at the peak of our addiction we could not escape regret, guilt, or shame when we acted out against our most heartfelt beliefs. That says a lot about the human spirit. Even when we believed we truly didn’t give a fuck our heart was storing up the memory to haunt us later. The human spirit is pretty amazing. Even the madness of addiction can’t reach in and completely rewire our conscience.

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“But mom, you know I can’t drink!” Holidays in Recovery

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I stopped eating meat in 1983 yet every few years my mom will say something like “It’s Thanksgiving. You can have turkey on Thanksgiving.” She isn’t opposed to my not eating meat, it’s that she can’t wrap her mind around it during holidays. I suppose the memories that make her warm, fuzzy and sentimental involve us all sharing the same meal.  I mention this because a lot of people in recovery will be going home for the holidays. Many are going to have an experience similar to mine but instead of turkey it will involve alcohol.

If you are new to recovery, you’re going to keep hearing people talking about how difficult the holidays will be and how many people will relapse. This is going to either scare the crap out of you or you’re going to dismiss it by thinking, “This doesn’t apply to me because I have absolutely no desire to drink or get high whatsoever.” The truth is – none of us can predict how we are going to feel ten minutes from now let alone during the holiday season. It’s better to enter the next few weeks prepared for anything. Have a solid recovery plan to increase your accountability to your support group, know where there are meetings ahead of time for wherever you will be traveling to, have people you can call at any hour, and make plans so you don’t spend the holidays in isolation or spend it exclusively in the company of people who are partying or who have the ability to push your buttons (family).  Basically whatever level of daily actions you now take to keep your recovery a priority, increase them until after January 1st. Better safe than sorry – and sorry does not mean relapse. It can mean emotional discomfort, living with heightened anxiety, or riding the roller-coaster of shame, remorse, or anger.

In most cases, your immediate family will be supportive of your recovery but they may not understand the disease. To them, you are doing so well they may not see any harm in a glass of wine at a toast or alcohol soaked desserts. It’s up to you to educate them beforehand on what you need. If you go to 12 Step meetings, tell them beforehand when you will be attending them so they aren’t disappointed if it conflicts with their plans. You don’t want to be in a position where you give up your meeting because your mother is upset. Also, let them know if going for a walk/run/yoga/gym is something you have to do for your mental and emotional well being so that you don’t get moody and lash out. If alcohol drenched sweets are part of the dessert ritual, make sure there is an alternative for you to enjoy. And most important – if your family’s idea of fun is getting sloshed together, know when it is time to leave. Don’t stick around for the insults on how you are now a stick in the mud or debates about whether or not you are an alcoholic.

Self-care and sobriety involves preparing for the holidays. While they are almost always a roller-coaster of the unknown to the newly clean and sober, those of us who have some time under our belt can still be hit with loneliness, grieving for those who are gone, feelings of inadequacy or whatever negative self-talk that can surface when we are the sober one at a party. Thank God, it does get easier. Holidays clean and sober really can be a blast. Even so, it is always good to have a recovery plan in place.

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National Survivors of Suicide Day

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National Survivor’s of Suicide Day November 17 2012

Today I spent time thinking about those I’ve lost to suicide and their families.

I got news this past week that another friend from my early recovery overdosed and died. This makes six friends since March. Five had been in recovery at one point for anywhere from one to twenty years before they decided that they could drink or smoke weed without getting caught up in old ways.  The news is never easy. Over the years I ‘ve been clean, there’s been a lot of death. Overdoses and suicide top the list followed closely by AIDS and Hepatitis C. I’ve spent a lot of time searching for meaning, contemplating life and death, and coming to terms with it in a way that makes sense to me personally. At one point I started to numb out. I would hear of a new death and mentally delete their number from my cell phone – gone! They were gone. Over! The end! I noticed my lack of emotional response and figured, really, how much death can one take? Nowadays, I’m back to feeling that funk land hard in my stomach and the sad sound as my head whispers “Fuck!”

My best friend committed suicide in the mid-80s. I wrote about her in an earlier blog on my other site http://www.pattypowersnyc.blogspot.com/2011/09/finding-one-day-at-time.html. That death hit me at a time when my own life was spiraling out of control. I felt I understood what she was feeling at the time -that feeling of not wanting to play anymore, of being tired, of not believing things would ever change. Little did I know that within three years I’d find recovery and my life would change radically.

I’ll confess that, for years, I held a little idea at the back of my most private thoughts: I would do this life-on-life’s-terms recovery thing as long as I could but if I ever got tired and want off the ride instead of getting high, suicide would be my way off.

At seven years clean I was hit by a depression I’d never experienced before – coming out of the blue and unattached to any plausible explanation. There was nothing going on in my life I could pin it to. I felt like I was inside a bubble preventing me from feeling a connection to anything or anyone.  I spent days laying on the sofa telling myself “This too shall pass.” The next day I’d awaken to realize nothing had changed. I had no desire to get high and wondered how long I could live this way.  When would enough be enough and I’d check out? I was also writing a novel where the main character would attempt suicide so a variety of methods were at my fingertips. Needless to say, it wasn’t a good time to spend days alone with my mind. Was this feeling ever going to pass?  The day I woke up feeling alive again was one of joy and relief. Shortly after this, a friend’s son hung himself.

While laying in my self-absorbed darkness fantasizing about suicide, it never occurred to me to consider how my death would affect others. Witnessing first hand how his suicide impacted the lives of his family and friends eradicated suicide as my exit strategy.

There was a hint that the latest death may have been intentional because of his history with depression.  Addiction and depression are closely linked. Perhaps this has played a role in all the earlier suicides. Much has been discovered and documented linking addiction and depression since my early years in recovery. Back then many recovering addicts shunned the idea of taking any sort of pill. Instead they believed in toughing it out, working a stronger program, finding a god. Many struggled with undiagnosed mental health issues for years, living in pain, until they finally sought help. It wasn’t that recovering addicts wanted to martyr themselves. Antidepressants were a new concept and many of us twelve-steppers were naïve and ill-informed.

I think a lot about my friends who’ve died, wondering how many of those overdoses were suicide.  How many kept their depression a guarded secret in recovery? How could we have helped?

That is the biggest question survivors of suicide torment themselves with – “What could I have done?” It’s heartbreaking to see and hear the grief lingering years later, wrapped around them like a blanket for the remainder of their lives. If a loved one has committed suicide please find support groups and professional counseling. The impact of suicide can be trauma.

For anyone who is considering suicide I will pass on something someone said to me during a particularly difficult time:

Patty, life is like a long phonograph and right now the needle is skipping but there is still a long beautiful song left to play. I know the pain is so big you can’t breath and it feels like it will never go away but this is really just one moment in time of a very long story and when you get past it, you will always look back and remember this period as a hard one but you won’t even be able to connect with the pain that right now feels like its going to kill you.  It will just be a memory that things were rough. While you’re in it, it feels so much more meaningful – but it’s really a just rough patch in a skipping record. Not worth killing yourself over. Because then it’s over forever.

Hang on and ask for help!

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I didn’t get clean for this sh*t! Unmanageability.

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This has been a crazy summer for me. Not “crazy” in a wild and fun way either (sorry to say) but crazy in an unmanageable “life on life’s terms” way. This is my first summer in New York City without air conditioning and the hottest recorded summer since the 1800s. They decided to re-wire my building (an old brownstone in the Village) and hired one electrician to do all the work. I struggled through one major heatwave after another, sitting inside my apartment feeling like a dog locked inside a car with the windows rolled up.  I found myself crying at my desk for no reason. I’ve discovered that severe conditions can bring on feelings of despair and depression – go figure! I had to turn down several clients because I was in no shape to help anyone and writing was impossible. Instead, I went to visit my folks in Canada for a couple weeks and expected to come back to air conditioning. Well –
what do you know – Con Edison went on strike so there is no one to do the inspection. There will be no air conditioning this year. The upside is that I knew enough to leave town to rejuvenate my spirit and have since put myself on graveyard hours so that I can bike in the cooler evening breeze for fresh air, write at night, and see as many matinees as I possible. I’m making my situation as manageable as I can because my mental health matters to me. I am powerless over the circumstances but not powerless over my ability to make choices to improve my situation. I needed topics for this blog to simplify my workload so I asked for help.I got a lot of suggestions. Phil wrote me this, which I felt was appropriate to use first:12_10 i didnt get clean for this shit_2

Recovering addicts are always asking as to what they can expect to “manage” in the sober future and what they cant.  -Phil

When we look back at the unmanageability of our lives during our using days the list goes something like this: jobs lost, apartment evictions, regularly living without a phone or electricity, calls from collection agencies, owing everyone we know money, significant others leaving after many tears, fights and drama. Our health deteriorates and there are trips to hospitals, jails, and psych wards. Paramedics bring us back to life and even this doesn’t strike us unusual. What’s worse than the exterior unmanageability is our inner life – we can’t handle experiencing negatives feelings yet they seem to be the only feelings we have. Our only coping mechanism was to keep using in the hope of finding some inner peace.

 

12_10 i didnt get clean for this shit3Clean and sober, unmanageability in our lives can look like this: jobs lost, apartment evictions, regularly living without a phone or electricity, calls from collection agencies, owing everyone we know money, significant others leaving after many tears, fights, and drama. From neglecting our health there can be   trips to hospitals. If we don’t change our behaviors we can end up in jail and there could even be times we end up in psych wards.

In recovery, even when our external life can remain manageable, our inner life can be filled with anxiety, self-loathing, pain and torment. “Why is this happening to me?” we cry as our thoughts return to the old solution – getting high.

Recovery is the process of changing our behaviors and our response to situations so that we don’t back ourselves into an emotional corner where getting high seems to be the only way out. If any addict stays in pain long enough, s/he will use.

It’s our responsibility to manage every area of our life in a way to keep chaos and drama at a minimal, We learn to start paying bills on time, communicating honestly, become willing to renegotiate or compromise in relationships, We address health and mental health issues, earn money the old fashioned way of working for a living. The hilarious thing writing this is that I know everyone reading it is thinking “Of course we have to do this. Tell me something I don’t know.” It sounds easy to live an upright, ethical, honest life clean – but is it? I mean – really?

This is what I have seen over the years: some addicts gets clean and lives a very rigid life – so rigid and fearful of making errors that the first chance they get to let their hair down, they get loaded. Then there’s the addict who continues acting out deviously in some areas all the while spewing wisdom of recovery louder than anyone else. I call this the “Spiritual giant who goes home and beats his wife and kicks the dog”-syndrome” (not gender-specific) who, without change, will also eventually gets loaded. And then there’s the middle ground – the category that most of us fall into – we hold onto old behaviors as long as they work for us before we become willing to change. And we only are motivated to change by pain.

I didn’t learn how to pay parking tickets until my car was towed, pay my phone bill on time until I got sick of losing money to reconnection fees. It’s true – there are a lot of people in the world who don’t go to the dentist until they are in excruciating pain but for addicts being in pain brings a cry for drugs. Non-addicts experience unmanageability the same as we do. The difference is that they will not respond to it by self-destructing.

It’s important to understand how the disease of addiction gains ground. It LOVES when we are angry with ourselves. No one can ever treat us as badly as we treat ourselves inside the privacy of our own mind. This is why we need the love and support of other recovering addicts. They remind us to give ourselves a break, teach us how to find working solutions to the problems of daily life, let us know that our fantastic idea on how to beat the system is insane, talk us out of that one last heist, help us recognize when the criteria for a boyfriend is different from the criteria for a sugar daddy. Recovery teaches us how to live without being motivated by the fear that if we let go of our old hustles and irresponsible behaviors, our need to get over on the system, that we won’t make it.

It’s unrealistic to expect to come into recovery and immediately live a life 100% according to new recovery principles. We do our best.  We grow in leaps and bounds in some areas and stay sick and stuck in others. The pain from unmanageability in the form of drama, chaos, and from the consequences of our actions is what teaches us who we really are –in our hearts not in our minds. We discover that don’t want to keep hurting ourselves by living this way and this gives us the strength and courage to change. This is a good thing. Because we don’t want to suffer, we learn how to do things differently.

In recovery we can be free. Not just free from the enslavement of addiction but free from senseless self-made suffering. The calm and inner peace we feel by living a life of less drama and unmanageability will eventually guide us in all our affairs. Nonetheless, shit does happen – economies crash, people die, lovers leave, personalities clash. Sometimes we may have a long string of bad luck and feel like life is not fair. We cry, “Why me?” and an old voice will whisper back, “Fuck this shit. You didn’t feel this bad when you were using. Fuck this recovery bullshit.” Yep – the disease never gives up, always waiting for a moment of weakness, always quick to point out the hopelessness of it all. During these times lean into recovering friends for support, love and guidance.  When times get dark hang on because this too shall pass. It will and it does.

Recovery is harm reduction for day to day living.

 

 

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