Happy Happy Birthday!!

Of course I will deny it until my dying day, but just between you and I, today, I will admit that my oldest child, B, is indeed, bigger than me in some ways. His feet, for example. He was delighting in slipping on my way-cool tennies to run out to the car for a sec, a few months ago, but that day has definitely gone. He even wore them to school once, last year! That brat! We both thought it was funny, but I'm just glad that it's past, now. It would save money, I guess, if he'd stayed my size, but I'd hate it for him to only ever be 5'9"-ish.
AND I called my old BFF today, finally, after thinking about it for waaay too long. OH CRAP! I was s'posed to call her back tonight. SORRY GAILBETH!!! Sheesh. If memory cells were required for life I'd have died a long time ago, I guess.
I cinched that friendship, when I gave birth to my eldest on HER birthday...hee hee. How's THAT for a friend? I've never had anyone produce a child for my birthday...I guess I'm just not (sniff) that important. (sniff) ;o)
Well, I'm sorry to say that the presents around here were veerrry slim, indeed. The funds have dried up, and of course there was no more than a late-afternoon phone call from the dXh for B.

"(monotone) ...just called to tell B happy birthday...uh...(click)"

The under-whelmed look on his face said it all, really. How sad is it to not even be able to sound happy when you call regarding the day your kid was born? Thank you GOD that I'm not married to him anymore. I just can't stand the way he made B feel for so long. I hate that I was so slow in finishing that deal. I just hope and pray that the boy won't be too scarred for life from my inability to do what had to be done.
I wish there was some consolation in knowing that it's normal to have regrets as a parent, but as I'm sure you know, there isn't any. I will always have regrets. I see the ways my choices have worn down my boys, and it makes me just want to kick my own ass. Knowing the "why"s doesn't erase the pain in their eyes. It doesn't make it any better. Won't make their lives any less screwed up, as a result. Sure, I might do better in some ways, because of simply knowing more about mental health and addictions than my parents did. But for cryin' out loud.
One of the Promises in the Big Book is that we will not regret the past nor wish to close the door on it. Hm. Well, that's another thing in there that I'm not sure I can really agree with, fully. That probably makes 2 things. Not bad, overall. Sure, some tough times have made me a better person, but I guess I'd still rather get rid of the self-inflicted ones.
Last night in our small group (church thing), we were talking about how trials can make us better people, and one guy was saying how he wishes he could understand the reasons for the trials in relationships, or the lessons he was to learn. I thought "my relationship troubles have almost always been of my OWN making." I wonder if normies ever think of things like that? Well, maybe it's not "normies", but I guess it's just odd to me at this point when people don't get that sort of thing. Knowing that it's only from the program and the steps that *I* get them...

Well, it's too late as usual.
May you have a blessed day tomorrow, and until I post again...
:o)

Life in Hell

What I know about the situation is that I placed myself in it, for starters, so I have no business complaining about it or being so butt-hurt. I also know how to solve the problem of wallowing in self-pity and resentment. I know how to mend the pain of being sore at myself. But apparantly, at the moment anyway, I am unwilling or unable to pick up those tools and put them to work. I imagine that tells me that I'm getting some sort of reward out of this being miserable which is a perverse idea so it shouldn't surprise me.

I went to court yesterday to be sentenced for a probation violation. If I had not violated I would have been off probation in like 10 more months.

Now I have 5 more years.

200 hours of community service to do within a year and 5 more years of being on probation in a state that doesn't allow me to leave except by special permission and only to go be with immediate family. Which means I'm here, in this state I can't stand, where I don't believe I'll ever have a boyfriend, where there are no opportunities unless you really like hunting or fishing or are a Mormon or a Republican, for five more M*$#er F@&$(*g years.

I seriously, at least at the moment, think I'd rather die. And unfortunately, because I placed myself in this position, it validates every rotten thing I already think about myself and every reason I think carrying on is not worth it. I know that is my disease talking. I know this too shall pass. But it won't pass till I'm fourty f-ing eight years old. Till then I'm trapped in a mean, nasty republican cultural wasteland trying to protect myself from my past and from my drunken mother.

What is stupider is that if they hadn't made it a requirement I probably wouldn't feel this way. I'd probably end up here for five more years anyway. And this feeling is so overwhelming, particularly on my 11th consecutive Valentine's Day without a companion or any prospect of one, that I'm afraid if I said what was really going on in my head I'd be locked up for my own good. In case anyone needs me I'll be hiding in my room, crying, praying for the willingness to do the work.

Never let'em see ya...FEEL.

OK, so, when I was an adolescent, I somehow decided that if I did not let anyone know when I had a good feeling, ie happiness, then they would not be able to know to come and take the source of it away. Is this a common interpretation of events? I don't know. But I know that I became like the girl on the tv commercial , where the family is on vacation and the Mother's voice sounds like a jungle-safari guy, stalking an "elusive" animal...but the thing she's stalking is the girl's smile, and when the girl realizes that she's been spotted smiling, she races away, with Mom saying something like, " and...it's gone", at the end of the clip.
I did not allow myself to get excited or hopeful about things changing, knowing that experience had shown that it would not last. There's a big word for low-grade depression. I was told that I've probably had that for the majority of my life, or since I was about 7. But, today, I like to smile.
I might just have finally reached the place where I trust God enough to accept good things, w/o being so suspect of Him taking it back from me.
I don't know. But I'm going to keep on dreaming.

Broken Windows

"Consider a building with a few broken windows. If the windows are not repaired, the tendency is for vandals to break a few more windows. Eventually, they may even break into the building, and if it's unoccupied, perhaps become squatters or light fires inside.

Or consider a sidewalk. Some litter accumulates. Soon, more litter accumulates. Eventually, people even start leaving bags of trash from take-out restaurants there or breaking into cars."

Broken Windows by James Q. Wilson and George L. Kelling, which appeared in the March 1982 edition of The Atlantic Monthly

Yesterday I learned that my mother had finally, after all the crap she's done, all the drunk driving, drunk dialing, drunk wedding wrecking, drunk ax wielding, drunk lying, drunk sending her kids to Scandinavia and leaving them there, etc. -- gotten herself arrested. Money can insulate you from almost anything, but not forever, and money cannot buy happiness. It can finance a spectacular misery and it can postpone, or evade entirely, reaching a real bottom. That is mom's situation; too rich to have the kind of consequences that it sometimes takes to fully concede defeat.

I learned from my sister that my mom had been arrested. I was checking e-mail on my mobile phone at work last night around 9. Her note said if I ever need a reminder of why I stay sober, take a look at the Ada County Sheriff's Arrest Report for January 31st. Of course I called my sister immediately. I'll spare you the details of the sordid story - it will probably make it into a screenplay at some point anyway - but the climax was my screaming mother being arrested in front of her home for obstructing police. Some part of of me, the part that isn't perfect yet, was thrilled that she was finally reaping some consequences from her addiction. The part of me that still hangs on to resentment toward her for any of the thousand ways she has harmed her children suddenly felt vindicated. In spite of all the 4th step inventory written on her and in spite of having some idea of my part, I have kept a careful distance from her. It wouldn't do either of us any good to make that amends too early. Clearly I need to do it so that I can put that inappropriate glee behind me.


The joy was fleeting though. It lasted just long enough for me to get home from work and pull her mug shot up on the sheriff's web site. It shocked me.
If the community of recovery is a neighborhood and the eyes are the windows of the soul , I live in a great neighborhood today. I live among people who solve their problems by serving their Creator and helping others. Windows in my neighborhood don't stay broken. Trash doesn't stay out on the street. Looking at the windows in mom's neighborhood breaks my heart.

Learning How To Live

None of us may claim to be independent, if we still depend on others to provide our happiness. We may wait patiently to get what we want, or we may get angry, because others aren't responding the way we think they are suppose to. Many of us behave as if there is some sort of universal guideline for living that is obvious to everyone. When others deviate from these imaginary guidelines, their actions are interpreted as intentionally being spiteful. Not only do we anticipate that others will act predictably, but also that their actions will fulfill our very own needs. Nothing is so self defeating, than to expect others to fulfill our own personal needs. We are doomed to disappointment as others can not do for us, what we are unwilling to attempt on our own.

To achieve or learn are solitary pursuits. At some magical moment in our lives, there needs to be a stark realization that we are responsible for ourselves. Instead of waiting or receiving, we should be actively grasping for our own truths. Learning is an intimate process with ourselves, that no one else can duplicate . Ideas can masquerade under many forms, but we transpose only those that color our imagination. There are no gradations, when it comes to learning about ourselves.

Real learning is a process of absorption. our mental chemistry is altered. No one else can perform this intimate transaction for us. The statement "I can't" should be permanently removed from our vocabulary, because it hinders growth. We can accomplish far more, than we are willing to admit.

A true refection of maturity is our ability to demonstrate effort, accepting the results, accepting our truth. For this growth to occur we must be willing to take a risk. To attempt new behavior, we must be willing to take a chance. There is no guarantee that the outcome will be what we expect. What can be guaranteed is that some learning will occur, therefore growth will then follow. We learn from our mistakes more often than we learn from our successes.

Risk and trust can be viewed as to skating on an ice covered pond. We test the environment, before we select to thrust our entire weight upon the frozen pond, to predict whether or not it can support us. Once we sense that the pond is frozen enough to support us, only then do we freely move about and enjoy our mobility. Like the skater, we have all the benefits of support once we have tested the environment and calculated our risks to be minimal. But if we never took the risk in the first place, we would have never be able to move about freely, learn and grow. Trusting ourselves, accepting our truths, learning how to live is our responsibility and no one else's.

Shameless Plug For The Suboxone Help Spot

I know that ideally The Write Thought shouldn't be used as a way of plugging things but...I'm doing it anyway.

I wanted to let everyone know about a new site that I have started called The Suboxone Help Spot. This Suboxone support forum has been created in hopes of becoming a place where those who are currently on a Suboxone treatment program, those thinking about starting a Suboxone treatment program, and the family and friends of both can come and find reliable, accurate information and most importantly...support.

On my own site I kind of shot down the use of Suboxone without a strong recovery program and I realized that all I was doing was pointing out the problem without offering any kind of solution. So this is my way of being part of the solution.

Any help I can get in spreading the word about this site would be greatly appreciated. Thanks guys.

God of my lack of understanding

Cross Posted from my blog:

I'm working Step 7, and one thing that tripped me up for a minute is my lack of understanding of God. In step 2, I was able to come to believe in a power greater than myself. I believe in the power of the 12 step program. I see it work and I know it works for me. I believe in the power of the people in the program reaching out and supporting each other. I believe in the power of belief, regardless of what the particular belief is. I believe that believing in whatever an individual believes in makes the individual better and stronger. In step 3, I did an exercize that really worked for me. I listed the people in my life over the years and the gifts that each one gave to me. Then I wrote a list of all of those gifts, and and did a meditation on all of these gifts as a kaleidoscope of gifts all coming from my higher power. I've done that exercize twice now over the years when working the steps, and it works for me. I even did a dialogue with the God of my lack of understanding, and while I can't say I understood, I know good things came of it. In step 5, I admitted to the God of my lack of understanding the exact nature of my wrongs. Again, I used the exercize of the workbook I'm using. I said it out loud. Then I looked in the mirror and said it out loud again to myself. Step 6 took a while, but I became entirely ready to have my character defects removed. I can't say I'm understanding God any better, but I trust the process.

I don't believe that everything is preordained. I don't believe that God makes every decision. I don't believe that God chooses evil and that there's some purpose for everything, that terrible things happen in order for some good to come. I DO believe that everything, even the terrible stuff that does happen, can lead to growth and that good things can come. I don't believe that if I pray right, then I'll get right answers. I do believe that whatever comes can be to my highest good. I can and do see gifts when I look for them. I got an amazing spiritual gift of another recovery tool yesterday when I really needed it.

All of that makes that prayer thing confusing for me. But yet again, I'm acting as if. Last night, and again this morning in the shower, I prayed, out loud, for God to remove all of my defects of character. I listed each one I know of, and I asked for help identifying those I haven't figured out yet. I guess, yet again, I'm coming to believe that I don't have to understand.

The Return of the Thin White Duke...or sickgirl finally reconnected her internet...

And she is back...not with a bang but a whimper! Kidding. Finally, I’ve gotten off of my lazy arse and had the internet reconnected at our new place. I suppose that its been long overdue as I’m rapidly nearing my two month anniversary at my new job. My how very easily time manages to slip away.

All is extremely well in my little part of the world although a little bit on the busy side but I honestly prefer it this way rather than the other. Idle hands and all...My new job has been going spectacularly well which definitely has been an extremely pleasant and welcome surprise considering how shattered leaving the previous one had left me. Even though I was having my share of real negative and depressing thoughts regarding the whole employment situation barely two months ago, I managed to keep my head above water and did not succumb to temptation. Yes, there were some floating thoughts in that particular direction because that would have been an easy way out but these thoughts managed to float on by. I knew that in the long term this would have done no one any favors so it was surprisingly easy to ignore the short term temptations.

I wish that I had a bit more time right now to really post a proper update but I’ve got to run as it is starting to get late and although I don’t have to get up at an indecent hour for work, I do have to meet my Mother in the morning for a bit of shopping and lunch and I want to be in fighting form. The last thing I want to look like when we meet is all haggard and tired cause I’m not up for one of her lectures, blah, blah, blah. It can most definitely be a bit on the petty side on my part, but because of our history I usually ensure that I’m looking better than fine whenever we get together. This is a story for another day so for now, you’ll just have to use your imaginations although I’m sure there is another daughter out there with an identical type of mother who knows of what I speak!!!

P.S. I’ve also added the identical entry to my own site - two birds, one stone...Have also been trying to catch up on what has been happening with everyone these past couple of months plus become familiar with our newest additions. Am looking forward to having a chance to get to know everyone much better this year as well. Already I’m getting good vibes that this will be a promising year. Sweet.

Annus Mirabilis

I'm a stubborn boy. I do not yield easily. Every time I had a negative consequence because of my addiction I quickly pushed it aside in favor of a new strategy that would enable me to keep using. I was "not able to bring into mind with sufficient force the humiliation and suffering" of my present moment. I had prayed for a long time that somehow I'd be able to manage it; somehow be able to be an addict and still have a life. When I realized that such a thing was not possible, I prayed in earnest for God to let my life end. I have found that most people in recovery had a similar, profound pain.

People say to be careful what we pray for. I don't know what they are talking about. I prayed that God would end my life and He did. Just not the way I hoped for. You see, I had hoped that I would simply not wake up one morning, or perhaps I'd get hit by a bus. I hoped that it wouldn't be to painful. I would have done the job myself but I didn't have the courage.

Prayers are heard and prayers are answered. I prayed for my life to end and it ended. Today I have a different life. By using some simple tools taught to me in the loving fellowship of Alcoholics Anonymous, and by the grace of an all merciful and loving Creator, I have gone to bed at night and gotten up in the morning, sober, for one year today.

The age of miracles is, indeed, upon us.

Welcome to the Jungle....well, maybe "not so much"

Hello, friends & family,
I'm so happy to join you; Let me introduce myself!
I have been an aspiring "humanoid" for just a bit more than 15 years, by the grace of God. Aspiring...? You may ask. Well, as opposed to the alienated and pseudo-isolated life of an active addict. My drug of choice was "MORE", and I have used every chemical that was presented to me at the time (most of them more than once.) On Thanksgiving of 1992, I had what they call a "Moment of Clarity", and it's been a really crazy ride ever since!
I am blessed to have been given two children, B & E. They are both boys, both rambunctious as anyone ever was, and really good kids when you get right down to it. I have inflicted my own understanding of family relations upon them, and I try to learn every day how to do it better. This is my attempt at "Living Amends". My extended family consists of Mom and my brother, N, & his family.
Currently I am taking courses at a local Community College, in pursuit of a degree in Substance Abuse Counseling. When I'm not there, or in the Blogosphere/Internet, I can be found either at the "Great"-Will store, or the closest flea market. If my church were open more often, I'd be there more, but what can I say, they haven't yet caught my vision for 5 + services a week. :o)
It's getting late, now, so I have to cut this short. I'm a novice at the blogging thing, so I hope you will all bare with me. Blessings and hugs,
abbiegrrl