Life, funny quirks, and spirituality...

Kind of a trip to be writing a post on this particular laptop. JW, you'll appreciate this the most; it's the laptop that I was trying to fix to send to you. You know, the one I couldn't fix after a week of trying, only to give up and send you my laptop instead. Well I was thinking today that it would be nice to have a laptop, for many reasons, but mainly for writing when and where I want. So I pulled out the one computer that thought they had me beat, the one that brought me to my knees. You see, I have never been beaten by a computer before, and this particular failure, being for a friend in all, well lets just say I didn't take it lightly. So I took that sucker out, laid it down on the work bench and said, "look here computer, me and you got some talkin to do." He laid there in silence, trying not to let the fear creep into the corners of his monitor. But I could smell it; no not the smell of burnt circuit boards, or a bad power supply, no, it was fear I smelled. And the taste, oh that taste, like the sweet taste of a desert rain; the taste of victory. Soon after, I was shoving System Restore disc, after system restore disc into it's greedy little mouth. Behold, the mighty healer laid his hands upon it's keyboard, gave it a computer name, and then...gave it LIFE! IT"S ALIVE! Restored unto it's factory image. And upon the download of 61 Critical or Serious Microsoft patches and updates, it lives to post another day. (lol)

But Seriously, it's moments like this that I am grateful to have the laptop. I am reading Joseph Campbell, I imagine some of you are familiar, others maybe not, I highly recommend reading anything this amazing man wrote. On the first page of the book I am currently reading is a quote by Mr. Campbell, the words so deeply resonate within me, they hold such a deep and fundamental truth for me, that I absolutely have to write about them. These words speak to the core essence of my spirituality and we all know that recovery is completely a spiritual process. So I wanted to share this quote with the rest of you. Some may be deeply moved, as I am, some may not understand, others will listen and perhaps see things differently. Either way, I thought it would make for fantastic feedback, stories, sharing experience on a deep level and spiritual level.

"People say that what we're all seeking is a meaning for life. I say don't think that's what we're really seeking. I think that what we're seeking is an experience of being alive, so that our life experiences on the purely physical plane will have resonances within our own innermost being and reality, so that we actually feel the rapture of being alive."

This is something that I will write about. About it's importance to me, about how important I believe it to be to my recovery, and how it is generally a life statement, something I think that at the core level of every human being, we are all searching for the same thing, albeit we are all searching for it in different ways, in different methods; some through religion, some through a higher power of their choosing, some with a personal relationship with god as they understand him or her, some who live in balance with the universe, the list goes on and on. The point I am tying to make is that if you are on a spiritual path, a spiritual journey, or participating in a spiritual recovery, or even if you are not, this statement has to strike a chord within you, on some level and I would love to hear how.

Where is my head???

Ok, so my baby, my Joe is almost coming home. We are praying that it will be by October now, but it still could be sooner. Whoa!! This is so much. It is like, I am a pinata, and if you hit me, you will get all kinds of candy. Ya know??
Emotionally I am just a collage of things. I am happy, I am ecstatic, I am super horny at the thought (hey, you said be honest), I am scared, way scared, nervous, anxious, angry, overjoyed, oh yeah, and lets not forget the good old resentful.
Its so much. It has been almost 4 years. 4 long long years. Writing that, it makes this so real. I mean it. It's not like I am not living it, but sometimes well you all know, its only real if we believe it is real.
This whole experience has been so unreal for me. I mean, we were happy, we were good, we had the family, home, all of it. We were clean, with our separate addictions. Or so I thought.
Anyway, the resentments are almost gone. I am not angry at what happened. I am seriously at peace with losing the house, living in a shelter, and finding a new house. I am at peace with the embarrassment we all went through reading the paper with his picture all over it, knowing our neighbors and friends were all doing the same. I am at peace with the lies, the deceit, after all, as an addict, I know all too well what we will do for a fix.
I have said many times on my blog, and on comments on others, that if we forgive someone at dinner, then we can't serve it to them for breakfast. It took Joe and I a very long time to forgive. Yes, he had to forgive me also. It takes two to make a marriage go the way ours went. We both had to accept responsibility for our parts, which we did. It took us a little over 2 1/2 years, but we did. And we are stronger for it. We had to learn to listen, and to communicate our feelings to eachother. And, we learned how.
So much has changed with us, this has changed all of us. Our family dynamics are not the same, as our kids are now older, he left with babies and children, we have teenagers and kindergartners now. They are growing up. I have grown up. I got clean, I mean really clean. I did relapse, but am once again clean.
I work full time, I got us a house, and we made it our home. I did it. Not him.
This is where I get insane. Part of me is so scared, because it is my house. I got it, I pay for it, I love it. I picked it out. I fought with all I am to talk to the landlord to allow us a chance at a life. See, my problem is now, I am in control. He is not. I don't want that to shift, although I know it will. At least part of it will.
His coming out of jail, that will be so hard for him. Hell, he is institutionalized now. After all this time, who wouldn't be?? I am scared of how he will handle that. I am scared of his expectations on himself. He is battling the "I have so much to make up for" demon. I am scared of the pressure, all of it. From the kids, from me, from society, from his family, and from mine. I am scared that he will relapse. I am scared of the first time he says he is going out. I am scared that he will not talk to me, and he will go back.
I am feeling like, if he does that, I can't do this again. One time. One time is enough. I can't be one of those wives, I just can't. I can't do all of this again. I am not strong enough. I love him to death, but I also love myself and my children. I am scared. I can't get him back, and lose him again. My heart can't take that, my mind can't take that.
There is just so much going on in my head. Can anyone find a map, put an "X" on it, and tell me where I am?? Cause right now, I just don't know.

Maybe there is hope

So my relationship with F is pretty much a secret..to everyone.. it has to be my family is to hurt from what he did if they knew i was still with him they would not be too happy i cant risk loosing them so i keep it a secret for now.. it sux and im not a liar and im lying to them and i hate it..

anyway i called F's mom from my house line..and she know's the deal with the secret crap. so i called her she didnt answer a few mins later the phone rang and my dad answered.. i knew it was her calling back.. he deleted the caller ID when he was done . i guess he didnt want me to no she called. She called to talk to me but he answered so they talked.. and im glad. and everything absolutely does happen for a reason and im so glad he answered and got to talk to her.they havent spoken in a few months since all this shit happened.. (F stole money from my dad and got kicked outta my house) so im glad they talked im sure my dad felt better and she told me how the convo went and it sounds like maybe there is hope that someday F will be excepted back in my family with a little hard work and paying back. it made me feel happy.

I'm Expecting

I've been thinking a great deal about how expectations play havoc with my life. My need to manage them sometimes consumes my time and efforts that I could otherwise spend in pursuit of something that would make life more joyous. This management of expectations is born out of being disappointed, hurt or defeated—something which everyone experiences at some point in their day to day existence. Get hurt real bad once and it seems understandable that one would spend the rest of their lives avoiding that hurt again. But at what costs? expecting happy outcomes is the cost of entry for happy outcomes. They just don't up and surprise us. We have to let them happen. And we have to do that by expecting them to happen.

But no. I spend way too much time thinking about all the things I don't want to happen. Ultimately that fear rules my existence and any wondering of what could be becomes a wonder of something I surly don't want to be. Even if something good comes along I might be likely to miss it simply because I didn't expect it.

So I am trying to toss off my fears and up the ante on my expectations. Perhaps I will be disappointed. Most likely I will be. But even so, the time I spend happily expecting the best far outweighs the benefit of waiting expectantly to be hurt or disappointed. Better to be blindsided by pain then waste my life away dejected because I fear the worst. It's not like painful things are going to be less painful because you see them coming. The pain is the same and the time it takes to get over it takes just as long... unless I decide to not get over and just keep look out for the next painful thing to arrive.

I think what I am trying to say here it that it is far better to be happy some of the time than to be unhappy all of the time. That is what my bout with addiction has taught me. I am just going to practice, practice practice believing the best will happen. If it doesn't, I will be no worse for the wear. If it does, I'll dance a little jig and expect something else to have a happy outcome. In fact, I should take some dancing lessons so when I get happy I am prepared.

my blog hates me

is it just me......... i wrote in my blog hit publish and then went to view it and it wasnt there so then i typed a mean blog declaring my madness and my hate for my blog at the moment n thats not there ...anyone else...??

I quote:

"We faced three disturbing realizations:

1. We are powerless over addiction and our lives are unmanageable;

2. Although we are not responsible for our disease, we are responsible for our recovery;

3. We can no longer blame people, places, and things for our addictions. We must face our problems and our feelings."

pg. 13 Basic Text of Narcotics Anonymous, Third Edition.

For me, responsibility is the operative point. And as long I try and shift the blame and not become accountable for my actions the longer I stay at the mercy of the powers that be. Inevitably, jails, institutions and death. And addiction is only mentioned in the first step of the twelve steps. The rest is all about profound change I must make in myself on every level.

The best "help" that has been given to me has been that of the tough love variety. Where I fess up and pay the consequences of my actions. Instead of suing the drug companies for prescribing a drug I used my best conniving to get or blaming the judicial system for locking me up when I got caught, I have found it more beneficial to look at myself instead. Make the necessary changes and I am released from the self inflicted shackles that have bound me for years.

A tall order I must admit.

My take on addiction as a disease.

Please forgive me for blowing off all the posts about whether or not addiction is a disease and then dropping my own...I have my own arrangement in my head about this, and I find it to be unhelpful to battle it out now that I"ve gotten my position settled. So here's my thing:

In life, you get to choose which narrative you want to explain what's happening to you. I can choose to think, "My husband is a criminal, a liar, a son of a bitch, a damn fool, a sociopath with no redeeming qualities." These thoughts would then lead to, "What the fuck is wrong with me? Why don't I drop this sorry son of a bitch on his ass and move on? When will I ever learn my lesson? Why am I so broken? Fuck?" and et cetera.

Or, I can work with the idea that addiction is a disease. It might only be a metaphor, but it sure is a powerful one. It transforms those thoughts about my husband into, "He is very, very sick," and my thoughts about myself into, "I am strong for supporting my sick husband."

There is a danger, though, in that line of thinking in that I might start to feel like I should give him things that I don't want to give or accept behavior that I don't want to accept. I have to be vigilant against that tendency to "help."

But in the end, if I'm just going to stay with this man anyway, and I am, at least for now, it's the only way to justify our lives and our behaviors.

So that's my story, and I'm sticking to it.

Confrused

Again with that rollercoaster of emotions. In a way i like just having me time and not talkin to him all the time.. i mean dont get me wrong i love talking to him i guess i dont miss talking to him when he is high. cuz thats when i hate it. but a part of me misses it n a part doesnt its like tug o war im being pulled in both directions. I told him to just call 2 times a day once in the late morning n once b4 bed. but he cant wait so he calls at 9 am n then i gatta wait all day to talk to him...its weird cuz like it bothers me but it doesnt.. i just dont no how to feel anymore. He is so sweet and just amazing when he is clean which makes me fall deeper and deeper in love with him. I swear this better be the last relapse...for a loooooong time no... forever.. but will it be? im gunna have to live with this for the rest of my life. does it get better? is there a time when someone is clean so long you stop worrying about it? Im just so torn. i often ask myself do i want to live with this my whole life? or do i want to be with someone where i dont have to worry about drugs and all this.. of course id rather not deal with it.. but its too late to depate i think.. i mean i no im still young but he is my other half...ughhhhh i dont no life is confusing and you only live once i dont want it to be miserable and its pretty much in his hands. well its in my hands cuz i make my own choices but i feel its in his hands cuz if HE stays clean i stay if HE f's up i go or do i?.. idk even when i write i go back n forth. i need some kind of encouragement that things WILL get better if he stays clean and i mean stays clean. for more then a month 3 months a year.

Do You Know Who I Am?

So I was reading over at The Discovering Alcoholic about the increased rates of prescription for painkillers in Montana, and I remembered something I'd wanted to write about here.

So this weekend, I had to go to the emergency room because half my face was swollen and nasty and crusty and gross. I had pink eye, and it was a mess...not a painful mess, just an uncomfortable, ugly, unfortunate mess.

The nurse who did the intake asked me to rate my pain on a scale of 0-10. I told her it was about a 2...I was a little uncomfortable, but mostly I was concerned that my eye was festering and I'd hoped to catch the infection before my eyeball rotted out.

So she sent me back into a room, and the doctor came and poked and prodded me a bit before prescribing a dose of antibiotics. As he was walking out the door, he turned back and said, with a half smile, "Want a pain pill?"

I was appalled! HELLS NO I don't want a fucking pain pill. What about 2 on a scale of 0-10 makes you think I want to battle with the demon opiate? In the religion I'm rapidly constructing through scraps of recovery and yoga and vegetarianism, the Grand Dame Demon Of Hell is covered in ex-girlfriend hair and opium poppies...FUCK NO I don't want a pain pill.

And furthermore, how DARE he ask that, with that little shit-eating grin? Does he get kickbacks for every pill script he writes? Does he have any idea what kind of a mess he could be inciting? Say, for instance, that had been my husband in the chair...he'd OF COURSE have needed a pain pill. Desperately, he would have needed one. Granted, he would have been thinking ahead from the beginning, and he would have said "9" for his pain scale measurement...goddamn junky-thinking fool...but really, what the hell was wrong with that doctor? I'm pretty sure that my husband isn't the only person with a problem with opiates, and I bet the doctor has heard of this phenomenon called "addiction" before...

This is a Dope

This is a Dope.

” The propaganda, assiduously spread for many years now, is that heroin addiction is an "illness". This view serves the interests both of the addicts who wish to continue their habit while placing the blame for their behaviour elsewhere, and the bureaucracy that wishes to continue in employment, preferably for ever and at higher rates of pay.”

The dope is Dr. Theodore Dalrymple, he is the author of this article entitled Heroin addiction isn't an illness... and a book on the same subject. Other than to say his findings are based or casual observations and figures he has derived from Mao’s revolution (I’m not kidding), I will withhold my comments and let someone far more qualified than myself debunk his baseless findings.

This is your brain on dope. ------->

Let me introduce you to Dr. Nora Volkow, the director of the National Institute on Drug Abuse whose brain imaging research (see picture at right) has broke new ground in the science of addiction illness. I found a great NPR Fresh Air interview courtesy of WHYY with Dr. Volkow in which she explains her research. It’s thirty minutes long, but its both informative and entertaining. I would suggest that maybe Dr. Dalrpimple should listen, but I have a feeling he is more interested in garnering media attention to sell books than he is in discussing facts.