Alcoholism and Drug Addiction - How Did I Get Here?

This March will mark my 21st year of sobriety. As a recovering alcoholic and drug addict it’s a pretty significant moment, so it seems fitting that it be the topic of today’s post. It could be real easy to pat myself on the back with a, “Look at what you’ve accomplished” attitude but truth be told it’s not me who deserves the credit. Yes, I’m referring to my higher power but also to all the people who have struggled with me along the way. Alone, I was not able to control my addictions, “But for the Grace of God, There Go I” Understanding a power greater than myself is an essential part of what keeps me sober and perhaps in a following post I’ll discuss that. Today, however, I’d like to share my story with you and tell you how I came to find sobriety and a new life.

When I was very young my family enjoyed a lot of time together. My aunts and uncles and cousins would come in from out of town for holidays, football games, races, and just to get together. These were always very joyous occasions for me and I looked forward to each visit. Once everyone was there the celebrating would begin, the adults would have a few drinks, there would laughing and dancing, sometimes games. The kids would get Shirley Temples or virgin Boilermakers and we all stayed happy. Then my dad passed away; I was eight.

The good times seemed to come to a screeching halt. There were no more parties for football games, no races, no dancing. I believe this is where my alcohol and drug dependence began. With no one coming over for any get-togethers there was a fairly large supply of beer and liquor stored away in the basement. I think I started drinking it as an attempt to hold onto those “good ‘ol days”. I didn’t drink a lot, just a beer or two every now and again. In fact, it wasn’t until 3 years later that my mom began to notice that the stock was being depleted. My older brother got the blame for that, he was five years my senior and already in high school by that time - sorry bout that P” After I realized that it had been noticed I decided that I needed to be stealthier when it came to having a drink. By this time it had become a fairly common occurrence. Any time that I was at a friend’s house, and the parents weren’t paying attention, I would snatch alcohol from their bars. When I couldn’t get that, I’d risk taking some of my mom’s stock, mostly vodka or gin. As the bottle began to get emptier I replaced the booze with water. Eventually my mom noticed this too, and again, my brother got the blame. My point here is that even at eleven or twelve if I wanted a drink, I found a way to do it.

This progressive illness continued on throughout my teenage years. It caused some severe problems between me and my family. I was no longer hiding my alcohol use and drugs had also made their way into the picture. Basically, I took advantage of every opportunity I could to get wasted. It didn’t matter to me what the drink or the drug was. I was out for a “good time” and nothing else really mattered. I lied, I stole, and I was party to many other illegal activities during this time because it provided me with what I wanted. And while my biggest “downer” during this period was my mom and family always riding my case the consequences slowly grew bigger and bigger. I eventually ended up in a correctional home, but even that didn’t stop me from using. There are many creative ways that teens come up with in order to get high, believe me.

By the time I turned seventeen I was living for nothing other than to get high. My mom was diagnosed with terminal cancer, and while I loved her, my thoughts centered on ways I could get my hands on her prescriptions. She didn’t want to take the pain medicines the doctors gave her and I found numerous ways to take advantage of that. After she passed my life, as I saw it, was nothing but a party. I think my vain attempts to find solace in the loss of my parents became my obsession. I managed to keep a job for a little while but even that became too much of a hassle for me. It seemed easier to just scam my way through life and do whatever I felt like doing. Somewhere between six months and a year after my mom had died. I accidently overdosed and ended up in the ER. You would think that would be a wake up call and it almost was. It did scare me a bit and I tried to get straight but the disease had its grip on me and it wasn’t long at all before I had started right back up where I had left off.

From here on out between the ages of eighteen and twenty six or so I managed to live what I thought was a normal life. I had real jobs, all be it, none lasted very long, except my bartending. I had my children and my share of relationships, infidelities, and breakups. During all these events there was one constant, I remained wasted.

So, wow...this post has certainly turned out longer than I thought it would. I think that it is going to have to be a, Part I. I guess that next week I’ll begin with my attempted suicide and the beginning of the end of my drinking and drugging days. Thank you for reading and I hope that you come back to hear the rest of this tale.

How Can the Grass be Green?

Photo by George Hodan

The last couple of days I’ve been dealing with a small flare up. I’ve noticed that changes in the weather often bring on flare ups and we’ve certainly been having some weather ups and downs lately. A flare up can make it quite difficult for me to move easily and it also drains the energy right out of me. On a day to day basis, I’d say that living with pain on the scale of 6 or 7 is normal for me. During a flare up the pain escalates up to an easy 8, depending on the severity of the flare up. I’ve experienced pain in the 10 range where I’m completely unable to stand, walk, or simply turn over in bed without crying. Luckily, flare ups on that scale have become much less common since I was diagnosed with the Ankylosing Spondylitis and began receiving treatment for it. Days like today basically leave me hunched over and unable to stand up beyond a 30 degree angle. I feel some pretty intense pain where my spine meets my pelvis, and my legs and hips tend to ache badly. Every step or move that I make is painful enough to be a constant reminder of my condition and that one day I’ll be that old woman that is always bent over using her cane to help her along. What a great picture I’ve just painted, huh? Seriously, though, that’s what I face on a day to day basis. So how in the world can I stay optimistic?

Here’s the short answer. I look at the world around me and understand that my issues pale in comparison to the things that other people in this world have to deal with. Honestly, it amazes me how the human animal has, and continues to, overcome some of the most horrific trials. I may have a rough time but let’s put things in perspective. I have a home to live in. I’m not starving. I have clothes on my back. I’m able to enjoy the love of my family. I’m educated and I have opportunities that give me a chance to improve the conditions of my life. In comparison to the majority of human beings I’m ahead of the curve.

The other night I was watching an episode of “Chopped” and one of the contestants was a woman who emigrated from the Republic of Georgia. She lived through two wars and lost both friends and family. Now, here she is making a life for herself, pushing onward and overcoming the struggles that she had been handed. BTW - she ended up winning. As I watched this show and listened to her I couldn’t help but to think how lucky I am to have never experienced such difficulties. Her ability to persevere gives me hope, it reminds me that things could always be worse. Out there in this big wide world are people who are struggling daily to stay alive, my inability to stand up straight seems a pretty small order in the bigger picture.

I think that if each of us can put things into such a perspective then we give ourselves a fighting chance in this world. Sure, I have other struggles too, but I only need to deal with one at a time and when I put each individual event in this perspective it doesn’t seem so overwhelming. I feel like I can deal with it and that life, as I know it, is pretty darn good considering. Stay positive, keep a smile on your face, and let the love that flows be itself. *hugs*

Honoring the Promise of Playtime

It can be too easy sometimes to tell your child that you’ll play with them later only to have later disappear into tomorrow. I think most parents have found themselves in this situation at one time or another. Of course there are those unique situations when your promise to play ends up being sidetracked by unavoidable happenings, but as rule I think honoring your commitment to play with your child needs to be a priority. I’m not saying this to scold anyone or to guilt you into taking time out for your kids. I’m saying this because I have found that playtime with my grandson has actually increased my productivity, as well as, strengthened our relationship.

I write at home and I run my Etsy shop from home. I know there are a multitude of parents out there who also work from home. Even if you’re a full time “stay at home parent” there are adult tasks that need to be accomplished throughout the day. This can become an issue when your children are looking to you for some serious entertainment and attention. The idea of staying at home to work so you can spend more time with the kids, still needs to be balanced with your work. I think the following scenario has played out in many homes. There you are trying to work but your child is constantly interrupting you because they want your attention. You tell them, “Not right now. I’m busy, we’ll play later” only to have them come back up to you 5 minutes later asking again. Soon you feel that you’re never going to get anything finished at this rate. You get frustrated and the child gets in trouble or pushed aside so you can make up time and get this done, leaving both of you feeling bad.

This is why playtime with your kids can be so very beneficial to you and to them. Before going to your work space next time, try this. Explain to your child that you need time to work. You may be surprised how well your child understands this. My grandson just turned 4 and he gets it. So, tell them. Then, tell them that when you are done working you will have play time together. Give them an idea of how long they will need to wait. A 4 year old may not understand, “We’ll play at four o’clock” but he will understand, “When the big hand is here and the little hand is here.” First step accomplished....make the promise and make it clear to the child

Next, give the child some options, “While I’m working you can do some coloring, or have some video/tv time, or play with your toys....” Get it? Give them some ideas of what they are allowed to do while you work. If it’s appropriate, give them a break time when the two of you will have lunch or a snack but make it clear that it will be a break, not play time.

Finally, and most importantly, when that playtime rolls around, STOP WORKING! Seriously, if you expect the child to honor your work time, then lead by example and honor playtime. Don’t give them the, “I’ll be done in just a few minutes” routine. Plan your time and manage it effectively so that you can keep your word. Then play. Don’t play while you check your email or your Twitter account. I mean seriously play with them. Give them an opportunity to select how they want to play, board games, tossing a ball, action figures, what have you. Enjoy your time with them so that they will come to trust and respect you. If you do this for them they will learn that they are just as important to you as your work, perhaps even more important. They will learn that they can trust you and that you’ll be there for them. They’ll learn that what is important to them is also important to you. When they see this they will in turn begin to respect your work time. They will understand that you really will be there when you say, so it’s ok for them to be on their own for a while.

There may be days when your energy levels are down and maybe you just don’t feel like actively playing. That doesn’t mean neglect the play time. You just need to redirect it and explain that you’re tired. With my AS it can be difficult to do some of the physical activities that my grandson would like to do but he gets that. When I’m having a “slow” day I’ll tell him and then I’ll suggest our play time be used doing gentle things like reading or coloring, crafting, or maybe a board game that he selects. I think the main point of all this, is that there’s really no good reason why you shouldn't take time out with your kids. Enjoy them and they’ll grow up loving and trusting you and knowing how to love and play with their own children someday.  

Step Parenting 101 - Should the Kids Call You Mom/Dad?

A blended family is pretty common now a days. Just about anywhere you go you’re likely to find step-children and step-parents. Being a step-parent obviously has a lot of challenges so here’s the word on one such challenge. Hopefully, after reading this you’ll have one less thing to deal with.

As a woman who raised 7 step-children I learned a thing or two. One of the first things that you may find yourself asking, was one of the first things I dealt with. Should the step-children call you mom or dad, which ever the case may be? There’s a simple rule to guide you. According to many child development experts and psychologists, if the child is under 5 years old and resides primarily with you, then it’s appropriate to have them call you mom, or dad. If the child is over 5 years old, let them choose what to call you. Simple right? That’s all there is to it. Well, at least on the surface. You will also have your spouse’s ex to consider in this as well as the children’s hidden feelings.

When I first met my 7 step-children they ranged in age from 1 to 15. The three youngest were 1, 2, and 3 years old. They lived with us on a full time basis. They have always referred to me as mom and continue to call me mom 13 years later and after the recent break up between me and their father. The four of us grew up together. We shared our lives with one another as I did with my biological children. For every practical purpose, I was their mom. If you’re wondering whether or not it’s ok to have a young child call you mom or dad, think about this: Will you be involved in this child’s life as if the child were your own? Will you be the one expected to care for them when they’re sick? Will you be the one who is there when they meet some of their first milestones? Even if your spouse’s ex is still around, if you are the one who is taking on the primary care of the child, then, yes, have them call you mom or dad. As a side note, in my own case, in order to minimize confusion when the kids talked about me to their biological mother they called me Terrimommy, and in the same manner when they spoke to me or their father their biological mother was XXXXXmommy. It was a solution that fit our needs very well.

As for the older children, there are 4 of them. All were over 5 when our lives came together. One of the children ended up living with us full time, while two of them lived with us off and on. The fourth child visited, but never lived with us. All four were always given the choice of whether or not to call me by my name or call me mom. I was fine with whichever they chose to do, and you should be too. Let them make the decision. It will allow your relationship to develop without force. I think that if you are able to love a step child the same way you love your own child, then that parent/child bond will grow no matter what name they assign to you. As it turned out, ironically, the child who lived with us still calls me by my name. The other three call me mom. None of the older kids started out calling me mom; that came with time. I think that each child needed to be able to reach a point in our relationship where they knew that I was there for them and that I loved them. It didn't happen overnight and it didn't happen all at the same time. Each child came into their own, tested the waters by going back and forth. Some times I was mom, other times I was Terri, now I’m mom.

In the end I think it comes down to this. If you love your step-children and you’re there for them as they grow, they will come to love you regardless of what they call you. In their hearts you will be their parent and they will be your child, and that’s a bond that is pretty darn impossible to break.