Beer vs Me

Chain O'Lakes, IL - Pontoon Boat is the almost centered green canopy one

I've shared before about learning to drive when I was eight years old.  I remember sitting on my Dad's lap in an old Chevy.  He let me do some steering and the brake.  I remember thinking this was a lot of work but it was also a lot of fun.

As I grew up my Dad continued teaching me how to drive.  By age 10, I was driving 14 miles to get us home.  My dad was sitting in the passenger seat, drunk.  He would say to me, "Watch for the cops.  If you see one, tell me and I'll toss out the beer bottles."  My thought was, "What if they pull us over, then what?" But that never seemed to be a concern for him.

Several years passed and I drove many times with him drunk.  Sometimes one of my sisters would be in the car begging my Dad to let me drive.  Those were the times when he said to me, "Let me know when I'm crossing the yellow line or the white line."  By the grace of God, we arrived at the destination safely.  And yes, he told me to drive home.

When my parents divorced, I had just turned fifteen years old.  I had drivers education the following Spring.  I was the only one who could drive in reverse and the only one who had eight years of driving experience.  I was always the first one to drive out of the three of us.  I almost aced the written test and I passed the driving test the first time.  No surprise there.

About a decade later, my Dad bought a Pontoon boat (pictured above).  The only time I'd been in a boat was with my family and we were close to running out of gas.  I was having a panic attack, convinced I was going to drown, even though my parents reassured me I was okay.

When my Dad asked if I wanted to go for a ride in the Pontoon on the Chain O'Lakes which is in northern Illinois, I said sure. To my sadness, he was drinking and appeared drunk.  He got behind the wheel and was teaching me how to navigate through the waves and keep my eyes out for wave runners, water skiers, tubers and other boats.

Then he did something I'll always remember.  While he was piloting the boat with a beer in his hand, he stood up and walked away from the steering wheel!  He looked at me and said, "Here you go."  I'm stunned and said, "Dad, I've never piloted a boat."  He said, "I know.  I'm going to teach you.  You better get over there."

So there I am, once again, in a position like I was when I was ten years old.  I had a drunk Dad giving me driving/piloting lessons when he's drunk.  I'm scared, I don't really know what I'm doing and I'm shaky because I feel responsible for whatever happens next.

I don't remember how the boat ride ended.  I don't know if I pulled it into the slip or if he did.  I remember what could have been a fun time with my Dad, just the two of us, ending up being another disappointment that the disease of alcoholism stole from me.

So many times I wanted my Dad to choose me instead of the beer.

My dreams of having a normal Dad died.

I knew I would never have the Daddy this little girl wished for.

Biggest Ways To Help Yourself

The summer of 2006 began a run in my life that I often refer to as, "The Great Emotional Blow Up."  I name it that because the previous twenty years I knew if I ever got down to the bottom of what was causing me so much pain I would be hospitalized and could quite possibly never mentally recover.

In October of that year I entered an Outpatient Program at Meier Clinics in Wheaton, IL.  I learned a lot for it's an intensive program.  I was there for three weeks.  I had three counseling sessions each week.  I was challenged to change some of my thinking, to redirect some of my feelings and to learn how to talk about the abuse I hid deep inside of me.  It was a start but nowhere near enough.

Once that cork popped that summer, it took many hospitalizations for the next six years to get me standing on solid ground.  I had two suicide attempts, I self injured several times at home, I had five more hospitalizations with one self-injury and one food related and the last one was suicidal ideation.

Here are the biggest ways I have helped myself:

1. I have been in Christian therapy for a long time.  When I went to Meier Clinics, I was coming out of a therapy situation that was no longer helping me.  God sent Carol Davis-Serpas at Meier Clinics and though it was pretty bumpy at times, I stayed with her because I felt safe and I wanted to heal.  
2. I am getting better at accepting the changes God makes.  When I went on disability and could no longer see Carol, I wept.  I've been blessed to have therapists I can connect to.  Not at the same level but at the right level for what I'm working on.  The therapist I have now, Faith, has a very different style.  It took some getting used to and some patience on my end.  Now I see the value God is bringing to me through her.  If I had quit, imagine what I would have missed out on.
3. I know when to change psychiatrists.  I had a good psychiatrist when I was hospitalized locally.  He had a good sense of humor and always made sure I would be safe when the medications were being changed.  When I went on Medicare, I had to change docs.  I began seeing a woman who had a warm heart and was also very intelligent.  But after a year or so, she became so busy that she couldn't manage the daily or weekly changes I needed her to.  At that time I was hospitalized and under the care of a man who always had a smile.  I spoke with him and asked if he would consider being my Psychiatrist.  He said he would be glad to - he liked how I was compliant and told him what's going on.  I talked to her about him and all was good.  I sent her a thank you card, too.

Those are just a few ways but they are the most significant.  If I don't take charge of my own recovery, nothing's going to happen.  If I need to be hospitalized, I call my psychiatrist to let him know and I drive myself there before I self injure.  I call my therapist to let her know so she can erase me from her appointment book and pray for me.  That's the responsible thing to do.

I have a plan.

I have a plan because mental illness, no matter what form, needs a plan.

And I am capable of putting a plan together.

Being Fully Engaged In Life

For the most part, I lead a slow life.  I do not wake up to an alarm, I have very few appointments during the week and yet when I have something to do each day that pushes me into human interaction, I press into it fully engaged.  What does "fully engaged" mean?

Sometimes I take a shower though that has not been the case since December.  I make sure my hair is washed and the clothes I wear are clean.  I brush my teeth and wash my face.  I try to use my hygiene to cover up the raw emotions, anxiety and yes, stress, I am feeling inside.

Once the hygiene is finished, I focus on the intellectual.  The part that uses words, sentences, stories and dialogue is often elusive when I am in a social environment whether I'm with my family or friends.  It's as if my brain gets muddled and thoughts that I had organized to flow out smoothly get derailed by an anomaly I can never catch quick enough.  I end up stopping at the beginning or mid sentence.  I try to force out what I want to say but nothing comes out.  Then I try to make a joke to ease the moment.  I feel intellectually lost in those moments.  I wonder why that happens and if it's going to get worse.

Being fully engaged, to me, means I accept the limitations and the strengths I have at this junction in my life.  I'm not nearly as able to tackle the complexities or multi-task high level thinking and delegating like I used to be able to.  I don't have near the capacity to be involved in volunteering at my church, being part of a small group or attending church twice a week as was my spiritual nourishment.  I no longer have the finances to give to those in need, who need food or medicine or Jesus, like I used to.  I cannot pay my own medical expenses or car expenses or buy healthy foods for myself because the money I receive from disability doesn't cover all of those at the same time.

But here's one thing I do know:  God is showing me everyday that I have choices.  He's given me this body to manage and I've lost 30 pounds.  I have another 80 to go.  He's given me finances to manage.  I'm getting one car repair done per month and I've made medical payment arrangements.  He's given me the best psychiatrist and therapist and with the both of them, I am able to speak freely so that I don't drink or self injure or hurt myself in any other way.  He's given me a loving family, loving and understanding friends and a Savior who I can put all my fears and sorrows at His feet and He takes them to the cross.

This is life.
No matter how much I want it to be easier or less painful for those I love,
God reminds me that He never promised us an easy life.
He promised He'd be with us through it.
Amen

Recovering From Stress and 5 Years Sober

There are times in my life when stress is constant although not always the bad kind.  The past week or so has been filled with stress from many sources.  Handling it well is an accomplishment I am proud of.

The kind of stress I was dealing with was being worried about my mom, who's friend's son had passed away.  My sister and her family driving cross country for their first family vacation.  Doing some extra driving to serve both of my sisters.  Dog sitting for a lovely friend over the holiday weekend, knowing I'd be giving one of dogs anxiety medication because of the very loud "boom" sounds of fireworks.  Going to a friend's sporting match.  Fixing some odds and ends in my friend's house which I love to do.

It's a lot of activity in a short amount of time.  Some of it was a lot of fun.  Some presented challenges.  I was able to prevent self injury, rest as much as I could, take preventative steps to reduce the stress and give myself permission to take things slow.  Normally, I would get myself so wrapped up and worked up, I couldn't see past the trees.

Nowadays, I have a better chance of seeing past the trees when I look through them one at a time.

Recovering from stress is so important for the body and the mind.

What do you do to recover from stress?

Today is my five year anniversary of sobriety. Five years of choosing not to take a drink when things got really bad and really hard. Five years of choosing to follow God and not follow the bottle. Five years of saying "no" to the easy way out and yes to the way that will make me a stronger person. Five years of really hard living that would have made it easy to give up but instead I chose to walk the narrow path that has shaped me into a better person. Drinking for the alcoholic is easy. But alcohol never kept it's promise to bring me happiness. Sobriety isn't always easy. But sobriety kept it's promise that one day I would know happiness. I've been blessed to have many of those days. Thank you, God!

The Former First Lady, Mrs. Laura Bush

Have you ever received something in the mail that makes you say to yourself, "Why on earth was this sent to me?"  I said those exact words yesterday when I received an envelope with a fancy card inside.

When I turned the envelope over I saw it was from my previous employer.  I still have memories when six years ago I had to leave because of seizures and a mental breakdown.  I've had to do a lot of healing on my own. I still have a bad taste in my mouth for two employees.  One who wrote up a list of what she thought I cheated the ministry out of (that has since been negated by my former boss) and the other who didn't like what I said about her method of leaving the ministry. I no longer see these women so it's no skin off my back.

Anyway, the envelope.  I pulled out the card.  It's navy blue with a catch phrase on the front.  Inside is a "Save the Date" along with the announcement of the former first lady, Mrs. Laura Bush, being the keynote speaker at their event.  WHAT?????

Since I had worked directly with the President of the ministry, I'm pretty sure he hand picked who was being invited.  So I asked myself, why me?

The way I left the ministry turned into a mess although I never intended it to be.  The President and I were not able to have a good amount of closure - it was abrupt and hurtful.  In fact, it wasn't until just a few months ago that he surprisingly gave me a positive mark on LinkedIn - out of nowhere.  I wondered if he had been able to forgive what I couldn't control.

I've always respected him.  Even if things got a little funky, I always felt I could talk to him.  So I have to ask myself, "Why did he pick me?"  I don't know.  Maybe it's an extension of reconciliation.  Maybe it's to show his appreciation for all the hard work I was able to do.  Maybe it's because he thought I might like to be there.

I know it's not for my riches in money but it could be for my riches in Jesus.

In any case, I'd like to go.  I don't know how much a ticket is or what the attire is but wouldn't it be nice to see and listen to someone I really respect?   Mrs. Laura Bush is one of my heroes.

She brings great joy to my heart.