About This Blog

My blog shares my recovery journey from childhood abuse to living with mental illness. I've been involved in twelve step groups and therapy since 1982. I accepted Jesus as my Savior in 1988. To the best of my ability, I have followed where He wants me to go and what He wants me to do. Maybe you'll find the hope and strength you need through what I write. Maybe you want to stop hurting yourself. Maybe you have a friend who needs help and can benefit from my story. I was newly disabled when I asked God this question: "What do you want me to do with my life?" I closed my eyes and paused for a few moments to still my mind. This is what I sensed from Him: "Amy, I want you to write your story to bring hope and healing to those who are still suffering." And that's exactly what I am doing!

Wednesday, July 15, 2015

Amaro and Half Price Books

It was one of those bright sunny days when the temperature and humidity remind you that summer is officially here.

I began my day the usual way.  Scooted kitties off my blanket so I could get out of bed.  Ate a little breakfast.  Worked on a letter I need for tomorrow.  Got myself dressed and headed to therapy.  A great and wonderful session that filled me up and addressed a question about self-injury.

My friend Pam and I were going to a large resale shop.  I was looking for a coffee table or ottoman but instead purchased a rug for the kitties for winter.  Afterwards we headed to Half Price Books in a neighboring city.  And that's where I met Amaro.

Pam and I went into the store and began looking around.  I was so blessed to find three dvds that I really wanted and a cd for one of my besties.  While I was browsing, I heard and saw a man outside yelling and swearing at someone but no one was there.  I thought to myself, "Uh-oh.  Someone is off their meds."

I didn't think much of it until one of the employees went outside to talk to him.  You see, he was standing outside of the store where customers were entering and exiting.  He had a cell phone with earphones.  He was wearing them when he was yelling and shouting profanity.  I could see the employee and it didn't look like it was going very well.  So I went outside and stood next to her as she tried to reason with him.  He jumped on the 1st amendment and his rights to freedom of speech.  She told him he couldn't express himself because it was bothering the customers.

As the conversation between them continued, I walked over and sat on the bricks next to him.  I did this to help him calm down and disarm the verbal fight that was about to ensue.  Then he began talking about the "end of days" from the book of Revelation and that's when I knew I had an "in" to talk to him.  I asked if he was a Christian and he said yes.  I told him I was one, too.  I talked to him about the verse in the Bible that says our tongue is hard to control.  One minute we are singing praises to God and the next minute we are swearing.  I told him that even though we have free speech, I was offended by his swearing and then I asked him if he could stop doing it.  He began to quiet down and relax.  He said yes and then he opened up.

Amaro has had a very hard life.  I asked if he was using and he said no.  Then I asked when was the last time he used?  He's been clean and sober for six months.  His girlfriend of ten years moved to Florida with their two kids, ages 4 and 7, while he was using.  He owned all the damage he did and has done.  He felt regret.  He has no job, no friends or family to help him and he was about as discouraged as I've ever seen someone.  I asked if he made calls to the county and he said he's called everywhere but cannot seem to get any help.  I told him to keep trying.

I asked him if he's ever gotten help from a psychiatrist.  He did a long time ago.  I shared a little of my story and encouraged him to try and get back on his meds.  He talked a lot about his singing and rapping and writing songs.  He pulled out some folded papers from his back pocket and showed them to us.  I asked if he would sing one.  He said he had to be in the zone.  I told him that as a drummer, I totally get the zone.

We continued to talk for about a 1/2 hour.  He was completely settled down now.  I suggested he go inside the store (if he could be quiet) and cool off in the air conditioning.  The employee, who I later found out was the manager of the store, offered to give him a pen and paper if he wanted to do some song writing.  He was receptive to the idea.

At the end of our conversation, I told him there was nothing I could do and I wished there was.  I told him I didn't live around there - I lived in Lake County.  He lit up and began laughing about how he wished he lived in Lake County because we have everything.  I laughed along and then I told him the only thing I could do was buy him a meal.  He hadn't eaten for a few days.  I told him to pick a place and I'd go get it and bring it back to him.  It was then that we exchanged names.  He told me what to go get and I doubled his order so that he would have something to eat and drink later on or tomorrow.

I went back into the store to find Pam and pay for my stuff.  The manager walked up to me and thanked me profusely.  She was new and hadn't learned how to handle situations like that one.  She said she learned so much from me.  Pam told her I help people all the time.  I felt tender.  Amaro was already making himself comfortable in the store as we headed to my car.  When I drove back to Half Price Books he was waiting outside.  I pulled up, got out of my car and handed him the bag of food and drinks. He thanked me and then I asked if I could pray over him.  He said yes.

And right there, in front of the store, I placed my left hand on his shoulder and prayed.  I prayed over my hurting brother, that God would give him the courage to keep putting one foot in front of the other, that the doors he needed to walk through would be wide open and shine brightly for him to see and I prayed for provision.  Amaro reached out for a hug and I gladly gave one and received his.  We said our good-byes, I got back into my car and drove away.

God did not want me fix him.  He wanted me to listen to him and all the stressors in his life.  He did not want me to give him money but to instead give him two meals.  He wanted me to use my mental heath knowledge, my instrument experience and my Bible memory verses to help this young man have some hope for a brighter future.

Sometimes, you have to look beyond the behavior to see the deep hurt in someone's soul.
Isn't that what Jesus would do?
I believe so.



Tuesday, July 14, 2015

A Late Night of Encouragement


When I'm up this late at night and look to the right on my Facebook page, I see the names of the ones I love.  Do you know what I mean?  Those people in the chat column whom you talk to most often.

To them, I posted this:

"Most of you are sleeping right now.  Some for 5 hours and some for 2.  I whisper silent prayers into God's ear, asking Him to watch over you, to give you a good night's rest and to lift the burdens you are carrying so that your load is a little lighter to carry. To wipe the tears from your eyes and, as the Bible says, collect them in a bottle."

"I whisper silent prayers into God's ear, asking Him to bless you and keep you safe.  To rejoice with those who are glad and in a good place, for you have been blessed with ease.  Celebrations of family and God's provision and how none of it is deserved, for those are a gift from God that cannot be paid back."

"But you already know this for God planted these truths in your heart as you were being formed in your mother's womb.  On this day, when you awake to what lies ahead of you, ask God to help you join Him in His plan for you today.  And then...wait expectantly."

"Good or bad, stay connected to Him."

That's my prayer for all believers and all those seeking to know who God is and why He wants to have a personal relationship with you.

You can pray, "God, please help me to remember to join You today in all I say and do."

Or you can pray, "God, I'm still learning about you.  I want to join You but I'm new at this.  Please show me how."

May God bless your efforts as all of us draw closer to Him.


Sunday, July 12, 2015

When Your Body Is Tired

After fifteen days straight of dog sitting for two friends, I had no idea the toll it took on my body.

For the last forty-eight hours, I have been catching up on my sleep.  I don't want to talk to anyone but it's not because I'm in a bad way.  It's because I need quiet - quiet in my surroundings and in my mind.  It's been wonderful.

My body has been telling me how tired I am in one simple way:  I'm falling asleep on the couch instead of in my bed.  That's not normal.  I'm doing a little bit of "forcing" myself to stay awake when my body wants to fall asleep.  I don't know why I'm doing this but I have noticed a pattern.

When I disturb my body's natural sleep cycle I end up having intense dreams:

  • A fully outfitted soldier in the Afghanistan war right in the middle of it
  • I can't remember the second dream but it had the same intensity
  • A patient at a trauma hospital who cannot breathe normally
  • A fighter who punches with power and might

If dreams like these continue, I will make more of an effort to write them down.

Tonight I'm going to try going to bed when my eyes first start to close before I dose off.  
Maybe my body won't be so tired and I'll stop yawning during the day.  And maybe those intense dreams that feel real will slow down or stop completely.  That would be nice.

Here's what I found about why sleep is so important.  Since I am a Christian and believe God gave us a predetermined start date (birth) and an end date (death), I disagree with number 2.  But if it helps someone else to work on their sleep, I'm happy.



Friday, July 10, 2015

6 Years Sober? WOW

Six years ago today I decided to deal with mental illness and other issues without the use of alcohol to numb my emotions.

From the time I was fifteen or sixteen, I began drinking. It wasn't very often because I wasn't part of the party scene in high school.  I was attending Alateen.  I learned alcoholism can be passed down to the next generation.  I certainly was not going to be an alcoholic, especially if it turned me into the monster my Dad had become.

The legal drinking age changed from 18 to 21 in Illinois.  I was bummed because besides being able to vote, drinking was the next step toward adulthood.  Fortunately, our neighboring state, WI, had the legal age to drink as 19.  Often I would drive over the state line, purchase alcohol, hide it under my seat then drive home.  If I was caught with it by the police I'd be in big trouble.

What kind of drinker was I?  A closet drinker.  I drank alone, at home, in my room.  I drank alone, in my car, parked someplace safe.  I drank alone, waiting for the numbness to settle over me so that I could get through whatever was ailing me at the time.

I'm 48 years old.  I've been in and out of AA for 33 years but I always stayed in some sort of recovery group, therapy group, church group or small group.  My drinking never progressed to the point of losing a job, a DUI or losing my family.  I never got violent like my Dad or get into fights with others. What I did do was chug down three drinks, as fast as I could without it being noticeable, at an employer's event.   I ordered two tumblers at dinner and chugged those down, too.  These episodes were not back to back but they stand out in my mind.  I had given up control.

Less than a year later, I stopped drinking.  Yes, I was a closet drinker.  I hurt myself the most.  The day I stopped was the day of my second back surgery.  I was given a morphine drip for the intensity of the after surgery pain.  I had a clicker and could have as much as I wanted.  Even though I was in high levels of pain, I still knew I had to walk the fine line of medicating the pain enough for it to remain under control and not over medicating myself.  Fortunately, I was successful in pain management.  That experience made me realize how I use alcohol.

I had to reduce my use of morphine and I did.  In fact, I surprised the doctor.  Now I had to decide if the feelings of "no pain" I get from alcohol were worth letting out.  I decided, yes!

Six years ago, I told my mom and sisters that I was an alcoholic.  They were shocked because they never saw me drink.  My sisters have their own recovery programs as does my mom.  I've learned some things along the way that I'd like to share.  I think naming six of them is appropriate:

1.  Never give up on myself no matter how hard it gets.
2.  Having God in my life, the God of the Bible and a relationship with Jesus, is a must.
3.  Go to whatever lengths it takes to get the help I need (psychiatrist, therapist, hospital, etc.).
4.  No matter where I am, remember I am never alone.
5.  My family fills me up so I spend a lot of time with them.
6.  Meetings are important but NOT getting to one isn't the end of the world.

Has it been easy?  Nope.  Have I almost gone back drinking?  You bet - on many occasions for many "good" reasons.

TRUTH:  Staying sober takes work.  You're either committed or you're not.  You either walk the road alone or you let other travelers help you.  Being sober this long is the longest stretch of sobriety I've ever experienced.  Admitted I had a problem, sought out God (and others) in a whole new way and made the decision to let Him change whatever needs changing on the inside.  I do this daily.

Sobriety...a better way of living the life God gave to me.

Wednesday, July 01, 2015

Speaking the Truth In Love

I'm not alone when I say how difficult it is to tell someone they've hurt you.  I've been hurt by many people in many ways.  I've also hurt people without knowing it.

As a child, I was powerless over someone hurting me.  I was told to stay quiet, don't tell and threatened with additional hurt:  "If you don't stop crying I'll give you something to cry about."  What awful words to say to an already hurting child.  I would rather have had a punishment that fit the crime, a talking to without the smell of beer and bloodshot eyes and the use of his hands on my body.  I yearned for a hug when I was hurting; not more hurting.  But seldom do a child's wishes come true when the disease of alcoholism is running the home and there is no safe place to hide.

As a teenager, when I began recovery, I had no idea how messed up I was and how long it would take to build a self-worth and self-esteem.  Had I known then what I know now, I'd tell myself the road is going to be a long one with many rest areas along the way.  There will be smelly gas station bathrooms, wrong turns and weather conditions that aren't ideal.  Some roads will be traveled only once and others many times.  I will be under construction longer than I hoped but the changes will become more permanent.  I will grow used to the traffic patterns and make necessary adjustments along the way.  Most of the adult workers will be good guides and some of them won't.  Even if the destination looks out of reach, one day, I will get there.

I don't like telling people they've done or said something that hurt me.  It's very hard to do.  I've had to tell my Dad, my Mom, friends, my therapists and even my doctor.

I've had to....

Speak
Speak the Truth
Speak the Truth In Love

As an adult, speaking can still be hard to do.  I'm a much better writer than I am a talker.  If I could go through this life using only this blog, messaging and email, I'd feel the freedom of a giant inside.  I love God with all of my being but I must be honest and say how bummed I felt when I learned He created us to be relational.  That means speaking - not writing.

Once I've swallowed the reality that I'm going to have to speak to someone, then speaking the truth becomes a little easier.  I live my life based ON truth and IN truth.  The trick is whether or not I can get to the bottom of what the truth is.  This is when I rely on the facts and then the feelings.  You've probably heard it said, "Feelings are not facts."  True.  But I, as a feelings person, rely on my feelings to tell me when something is right or wrong.  An example would be feeling angry when I catch someone in a lie.  Even though the lie came first and then my feeling, I still have to communicate the lie and how it made me feel.  I've been taught, by the mental health field, to use a statement such as this:  "When you lied about calling in my prescription, I felt angry.  Next time could you please tell me the truth?"

Sounds a bit harsh, right?  I agree.  Instead of leading off with the fact, I begin by recreating the scene.  This serves to jog their memory and warm them up to the truth I need to say:  "When you called and told me my prescription would be called into my pharmacy in ten minutes, I felt relieved because I was already two days without it.  But when I called the pharmacy and even on the next day it still hadn't been called in, I felt angry and lied to."  State the fact then my feeling.  Speaking the truth.

The final step (for me) can be the most challenging if I haven't cleaned up my side of the street first.  What I mean by that is asking myself if I did anything to cause this hurt and then forgiving the person as I would want to be forgiven.  Am I harboring ill will toward that individual?  Is the word, "homicide," a large part of my everyday living when I think about what this person "did" to me?  If so, I back myself up and wait.  I make myself wait so that I don't add unnecessary injury (not literally) to the person(s) who harmed me.  Have I worked it all out of my system with the help of God?  My therapist?  My friends?  When I can say, "Yes," only then can I confront and resolve the issue(s) with that person.  Speaking the truth in love means I am in control of my emotions but not pretending everything is okay.  I am honest but do not cause injury with my words.  I am forgiving because Jesus forgave me.

Speaking the truth in love teaches me how to treat others and it teaches others how to treat me.