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Finding peace in loving those with addiction

Seeing The Beauty of the Dungeon

Today was one of those days when I realized, again, how one day in your life can change everything you know.  And how everything that you now complain about could seem like heaven to some, or at a different time. Just like Beauty and The Beast. She was living in her village, doing the life of villagers which she thought to be a “provincial” life. But when she was trapped in the dungeon later, her old life seemed like heaven and she yearned for it.

She made the decision to see the beauty in the place here and now and find the magic. She made it seem so wonderful that when the time came, she almost hated to leave.

How can WE make every day so wonderful that we hate for it to end? Even when we are tired, or sick, or can’t seem to get anything done. Or maybe we are sick with worry over a child or a grandchild.

As difficult as this is, it really is just a blip in our life that we can never get back.

Eckhart Tolle wrote an entire book on it which states a good place to start:

  • “Everytime you walk up and down the stairs in your house or place of work, pay close attention to every step, every movement, even your breathing. Be totally present…..
  • [or] When you wash your hands, pay attention to all the sense perceptions associated with the activity: the sound and feel of the water, the movement of your hands, the scent of the soap….

He states the way to measure success in this practice is:

The degree of peace that you feel within.
Eckhart Tolle

This weekend we watched old family movies. When my kids were little I would just sit the camera in the room and record our everyday life. As we sat now and watched our lives in the seemingly mundane moments of yesteryear, the feeling I got was that any of us would give anything to go back there for a day. To just know what we know now. We would surely make that day like heaven! We would hug tightly and look deep into the eyes of that little 9-year-old who now struggles with SUD and just smile at their innocence. We would look at our aged parents and say:

"Do you know how much I appreciate all you've done for me, for raising me and sacrificing for me?"

I would tell my teenage kids to enjoy that day because in exactly 12 years you are going to be looking at this tape of this day and say “Wow. I didnt have one bill to pay, I didnt know real sickness or real pain or sorrow. My heart hasn’t been broken into pieces, I haven’t had to watch my child suffer through surgery or through an illness or through the pain of loneliness or the world’s unkindness. And yet I still was sassy, or was onery, or miserable because THAT day didn’t go right  or someone said something wrong to me.”

THAT DAY can never be given back–just like today can never be recouped.

The whole theory of being present & mindful is such a struggle for me. I believe one reason is that I am always searching–searching for a better way. Searching for more personal development, searching for positivity and kindness, When I don’t get it I pout. Then I look some more. On and on it goes while each day disappears. Until one day we realize all our chances are fast being used up. Chances to help someone have a better day. The chance to help my patient feel better about being holed up in a 12 x 14 room for weeks on end. The chance to make a difference. 

I just want time to slow down. I want to feel every second. I want to live every second. Not to always be looking ahead. I want to live while I can. Life is just too short for weeds, and just long enough for wishes….

It’s funny, I wrote the first part of this blog a few years ago when I was a skilled rehab nurse for mostly the elderly. Today I have a little different perspective.

I don’t necessarily want to hold on to today. Today doesn’t feel great. I know I “should” because things can always get worse.

Some days I wake up with the incredible realization that my son is still alive! A gift that many don’t have. I feel deep reverence on those days until the devil gets his way and needles in little spears of fear.

The challenge of battling those thoughts is what drives me. I read. I write. I practice self-care as much as possible. I try to beautify my little condo to help make my “mind dungeon” {of addiction} tolerable. I cook healthy meals for my husband and try desperately to not talk about my son often. I try to get out of the house and go places fun and interesting. I try to support my other children- when invited.

Whatever is going on in our lives at any given time; we can hopefully make the effort to make our dungeons a palace.

Self-Care Day

Although I don’t have a giant round window, sparkling chandelier, or even a free-standing tub; I do have a small quiet condo in the suburbs of the city.

Believe it or not, I can sit quietly, without any devices, on a Monday morning and hear nothing but the faint sounds of life doing what life does.

Today was the perfect day for my version of self-care. I spent the morning in a chasm of swirling thoughts about my son’s life in addiction and the legal ramifications of that.

Although I have chosen to emotionally support him and be available when needed; I do encourage treatment to him almost daily. I offer massive amounts of harm reduction. I keep writing to various people in the hopes that someone will come through with an idea and the resources to carry them out.

As door after door closes; I feel incredible sadness at my inability to make any headway with my son.

My son has been living in a different world than me. A world that scares me to the core. 

He has been shot in the leg. He seen people die. He's been exposed to horrific things--both in person and on video. Things he choked up even trying to tell me.

So even though he still has his signature traits of humor, introspection, and vision; the chemicals are changing his ability to see a way out. His logical reasoning to not make his situation worse –is on a break. His risk meter has been progressively getting weaker as he seeks out further methods of survival in the streets. Even though his words say one thing, his self sabotage makes him do another. His intention to fix everything tomorrow leaves him tired and struggling tonight. 

Tomorrow brings darker people, places & things that welcome more deviant behavior to numb wounded souls. Fulfilling their human daily needs seems to be the only goal.

He seems to be stuck in this pattern of chaos and hustling. He told me on Christmas he doesn’t have time for anything else but scrambling to survive. When I mention that it doesn’t have to be that way, he looks at me like I’m from another planet. I had to constantly tell myself that “No, this world is NOT normal. It’s not normal to be around shady and sketchy people doing shady and sketchy things while living in your truck.” Yet he seems so at home in that world.

His mind seems to operate on an all or nothing mentality. He’s either calling an old friend and proposing a half million dollar business opportunity (which the friend said yes!), to returning to chaotic use, the next week after a horrible fight with a person who holds the cards for certain aspects of his experience and his roles to fulfill.

I’m convinced he is hurting deeply. He does have a few free options for treatment. They aren’t the best and honestly, the two times he has been to treatment seemed to make him worse. My belief that despite having a higher ego personality and high intelligence; he has deeper issues to explore than 30-day rehabs can address. He seems convinced that he doesn’t deserve success either in sobriety or business and relationships including being a dad.

Despite his tough skin, the things that he’s been told must affect him. Things such as: He’s a horrible person and his addiction has been the most horrible thing known to man and that him relapsing is a spit in the face to all who’ve tried to help him. In which they packed up his things & put them out in the garage, as if he had the plague.

So I can judge his lifestyle all I want. I can listen to others who mutter, “When will he ever learn?” As they shake their heads in disgust but make no attempt to ask, “How can we help him? What can we do?”

My circle gets smaller and smaller in finding those who understand our predicament. There seems to be no one else who can offer help. I’m left to do my best every day to not think and worry about more trauma.

Bottom line, is that I will not let my inability to understand his actions keep me from loving him the best way I can. I refuse to treat him harshly and with vitriol and disdain. I refuse to cut off communication until he can “learn his lesson”, or “grow up”.

Even though I understand family fatigue and “giving enough chances”; the reality of my sons life being cut short is a statistical fact, due to a diagnosis of heart failure.

The chances of me losing my son before I die propels me to keep holding on, keep hoping, and keep loving as best I know how.

I still feel deep sadness most days. Sadness for what my son has lost. I know it pains him so deeply that he can’t break free of self-sabotage. I know he hates failure more than anything except maybe his fear of repeated failure. I know his family members’ reactivity and vitriol towards him bothers him deeply, which is why he stays away and isolates.

As for me, I can only keep loving the best way I know how. Knowing it may be my last interaction with my funny, strong, talented, lost, son.

I can keep remembering that there has to be a God that loves him even more than I do. A God who knows his struggles, who knows his heart. And who still sends tiny little miracles every single day to my son and to me– Via a yummy shared meal for him, or a flash of a joyful memory for me– thank you Facebook memories.

Or maybe it’s just the realization that I have had an amazing life being the Mom to all my kids and gratefulness is truly the key to happiness.

And Love of course. Which I will continue to do. And carve time out for my own self care daily/ weekly.

So after work today, I decided to actually go get my hair cut for the first time in years.

That’s right– years! For various reasons, I have cut my hair at home. It was strange being back in the salon environment. The busyness, idle chit chat. Hair, makeup, Things that – in my mind – are so unimportant. But as I sat there, listening and actually talking to my hair dresser; I felt something stir. 

I felt a version of my old me. The me who tried so hard to stay young. Who tried to exercise. Who tried to get out in nature every chance she could. Who kept her hair colored and her skin tan. A me who just wanted to feel and look the best I possibly could as the years crept up threatening to steal my youth.

I suddenly wanted that person back. As the hair dresser handed me the mirror, and asked: “What do you think?”

I wanted to yell:

“I THINK I’VE MISSED THAT PERSON! I THINK I LOST HER ALONG THE WAY OF FIGHTING FOR LIFE. I THINK IN MY QUEST FOR PEACE, I LOST WHO I WAS. I THINK I NEED TO FIND HER AGAIN!”

“So, you like the haircut?”

She trepidly asked.

“Yes, yes, I like it. Thank you.”

Love is the most divine healer –Val Kilmer

Building Emotional Walls

For years I’ve built many walls. Each time I felt slighted or scared, used or hurt, I would add another brick. Brick by brick I would cement each one with emotionally resistant mortar to ensure that I wouldn’t get hurt again.

One day I woke up wondering why I felt so trapped. The walls were so tall I couldn’t see a thing! If they were to protect me then why did I feel like crap? I’m supposed to be happier by avoiding hurt. My bubble of bricks wasn’t all that bubbly if it couldn’t reach inside and place a warm compress on my still aching heart.

I wanted to be in control of my pain and I thought isolating me up like the Boy in The Plastic Bubble, would keep me in control. 

By controlling who and what I let into my world, I would surely be healed of all these frailties.

But I wasn’t healing.

I was miserable.

Without having the opportunity to approach these issues; I was stuck in my own vortex of insecurity and trepidation.

All the times I had said:

If only people would stop bothering/being mean/ attacking my character/lying to me.

Or:

If only that group/company/ race or class of people/boss/ friend would pull their heads out and do what I want them to do; then my life would be manageable and tolerable and I would thrive.

When you find yourself becoming bitter, angry or acting in defensive ways; whether it be from a traumatic event like a hurricane (which triggers a fear of dying or suffering) or from rejection (triggering feelings of loss & judgment) or from the piling on of negative “events” outside your control (triggering the fear of completely losing control of your life & freedom); the natural instinct is fight or flight.

If you fight, it creates more resistance.

If you run— or hide in walls–you are only delaying the inevitable.

Even being isolated in my brick fortress couldn’t stop my self misery from overflowing and seeping through. Even bricks get condensation and moisture on them causing rot, decay and mold.

Allowing these emotions to take that much space in your precious body keeps the cycle going. So where were my thoughts going if there weren’t any outside influences directly in my face to trigger me?

My thoughts were still in the offense. And in the offensive. I was still replaying my story of hurt or unfairness. I was justifying my pity party by remaining hidden in “safeness“.

In these moments, it’s important to find your ability to return to the place you left off!!! BEFORE these thoughts overtook your head! Return to when you felt safe & loved! Return to when you completely loved your innocent self before you built these walls around your heart. That might be your inner child. Your sweet innocent inner child.

This isn’t hiding your head in the sand. It’s preserving your energy & returning to taking care of what you can. The things that are right in front of you–not the “what ifs”.

It’s giving attention to your own fearful, cracked tender heart & telling it that it will survive this. Until then, you’re not going to be living in fear & drive wedges between those you interact with.

If someone is assaulting your character & you can’t bring yourself to thank them for making you see how much this is triggering in you–then return to love–silently in your own heart.
Before the fear came.
Before your thoughts of how awful they are to judge you. Thank them silently for making you realize how much you Need to return to loving thoughts of them & their painful journey that YOU MUST be triggering in them!
Being able to intentionally  thank anything that makes you realize you need more self-care & acceptance; (because kicking yourself or feeling guilty or fearful does not return you to a loving place of empowerment)– but being grateful can.

Turn off the TV if it’s causing stress & strain in the morning or at night. I feel this every time I watch the news before work: I’m irritable, fearful, driving angrier, not breathing deep & cleansing. In these moments of rumination and discontent– I’m not extending love to anyone or contributing to the healing of the world. 

Love. It really is the answer to overcoming Every other emotion! Even if it's love you're giving to yourself.

Tis better than holding myself captive in a cage of my own self sabotage design.

Return to love
We ALL need it– now and forever.
💝
Hope⚓

Addicted to Drama

I read somewhere that we get a dopamine burst even in times of worry and pain. I thought, “How can this be? I thought dopamine was just for pleasure?”

I found this Article in psychology today which helps explains it:

“….in the moment, anger feels good; it feels like the thing to do. It overrides all other moral and rational brakes in the brain because it originates from our primordial, original limbic system: the brain center of our most automatic emotions like fear and desire.”

And as far as the dopamine release:

“What happens is that anger can lead to similar “rushes” as thrill-seeking activities where danger triggers dopamine reward receptors in the brain, or like other forms of addiction such as gambling, extreme sports, or even drugs like cocaine and methamphetamines. Anger can become it’s own reward, but like other addictions, the final consequences are dangerous and real…….”

In life’s tragedies, sorrow, unbearable grief, and pain, it’s easy to let to
resentment and bitterness live in our hearts and breed discontentment. We let our space be filled with rumination of what has been done TO us–especially if that’s where we feel the most comfortable.

Even if we have good reason to be angry there comes a time when it’s causing more distress to hang on to it than let it go. Living with anger and ruminating on what others have done to us, drives wedges between those we love. Even those of whom the anger is not directed, will feel our discontent because we can never be truly free to be our authentic selves if we hold on tightly to anger.

It’s very difficult to break out of these patterns of thinking. Certain triggers activate our emotions and automatically seem to make us react or lash out in anger and spite. Surprisingly, we may be so used to reacting that it doesn’t even feel like we are lashing out. Some personality types will even be offended if you suggest they are lashing out or even overreacting. Whatever anyone else thinks, WE know when we are miserable and when our moods seem to be dependent on others’ actions. At some point, hopefully, we can have the desire to make a change and create emotional boundaries.

How to disengage from conflict: Learning healthy boundaries about not trying to manipulate situations, mindfulness, meditation, counseling. Also joining positive support groups, not those with toxic angry vibes which perpetuate our victimhood.

Many people believe that God alone has the power to turn weakness into windows through which his glory can shine through.

Whatever method you use to work through your emotions, as long as you feel yourself becoming less reactive, and more authentic; then we can celebrate progress. 

After all, when we are feeling content and emotionally stable, we can lean into helping others do the same, thereby contributing to the healing of the world.

Self-Care Day

Although I don’t have a giant round window, sparkling chandelier, or even a free-standing tub; I do have a small quiet condo in the suburbs of the city.

Believe it or not, I can sit quietly, without any devices, on a Monday morning and hear nothing but the faint sounds of life doing what life does.

Today was the perfect day for my version of self-care. After a busy weekend moving my youngest daughter in, I woke up not feeling well. I spent the morning in a chasm of swirling thoughts about my son’s life in addiction and the legal ramifications of that.

Although I have chosen to emotionally support him and be available when needed; I do encourage treatment to him almost daily. I offer massive amounts of harm reduction. I keep writing to various people in the hopes that someone will come through with an idea and the resources to carry them out.

As door after door closes; I feel incredible sadness at my inability to make any headway with my son.

My son has been living in a different world than me. A world that scares me to the core. 

He has been shot in the leg. He seen people die. He's been exposed to horrific things--both in person and on video. Things he choked up even trying to tell me.

So even though he still has his signature traits of humor, introspection, and vision; the chemicals are changing his ability to see a way out. His logical reasoning to not make his situation worse –is on a break. His risk meter has been progressively getting weaker as he seeks out further methods of survival in the streets. Even though his words say one thing, his self sabotage makes him do another. His intention to fix everything tomorrow leaves him tired and struggling tonight. 

Tomorrow brings darker places that welcome more deviant behavior to numb wounded souls yet it fulfills their human daily needs.

He seems to be stuck in this pattern of chaos and hustling. He told me on Christmas he doesn’t have time for anything else but scrambling to survive. When I mention that it doesn’t have to be that way, he looks at me like I’m from another planet. I had to constantly tell myself that “No, this world is NOT normal. It’s not normal to be around shady and sketchy people doing shady and sketchy things while living in your truck.” Yet he seems so at home in that world.

His mind seems to operate on an all or nothing mentality. He’s either calling an old friend and proposing a half million dollar business opportunity (which the friend said yes!), to returning to chaotic use, the next week after a horrible fight with a person who holds the cards for certain aspects of his experience and his roles to fulfill.

I’m convinced he is hurting deeply. His problem isn’t unavailable options or lack of treatment facilities. His problem is that despite having a higher ego personality and high intelligence, he must be convinced that he doesn’t deserve success either in sobriety or business and relationships.

Despite his tough skin, the things that he’s been told must affect him. Things such as: He’s a horrible person and his addiction has been the most horrible thing known to man and that him relapsing is a spit in the face to all who’ve tried to help him. In which they packed up his things & put them out in the garage, as if he had the plague.

So I can judge his lifestyle all I want. I can listen to others who mutter, “When will he ever learn?” As they shake their heads in disgust but make no attempt to ask, “How can we help him? What can we do?”

My circle gets smaller and smaller in finding those who understand our predicament. There seems to be no one else who can offer help. I’m left to do my best every day to not think and worry about more trauma.

Bottom line, is that I will not let my inability to understand his actions keep me from loving him the best way I can. I refuse to treat him harshly and with vitriol and disdain. I refuse to cut off communication until he can “learn his lesson”, or “grow up”.

Even though I understand family fatigue and “giving enough chances”; the reality of my sons life being cut short is a statistical fact, due to a diagnosis of heart failure.

The chances of me losing my son before I die propels me to keep holding on, keep hoping, and keep loving as best I know how.

Yesterday I woke up the most incredible realization that my son was alive and today I did not have to mourn him, unlike so many others. This was tremendously comforting for me and helped in my gratefulness journey.

I still feel deep sadness most days. Sadness for what my son has lost. I know it pains him so deeply that he can’t break free of self-sabotage. I know he hates failure more than anything except maybe his fear of repeated failure. I know his family members’ reactivity and vitriol towards him bothers him deeply, which is why he stays away and isolates.

As for me, I can only keep loving the best way I know how. Knowing it may be my last interaction with my funny, strong, talented, lost, son.

I can keep remembering that there has to be a God that loves him even more than I do. A God who knows his struggles, who knows his heart. And who still sends tiny little miracles every single day to my son and to me. Via a yummy meal for him, or a flash of a joyful memory for me.

(Thank you Facebook memories)

Or maybe it’s just the realization that I have had an amazing life being the Mom to all my kids and gratefulness is truly the key to happiness.

And Love of course. Which I will continue to do. And carve time out for my own self care daily/ weekly.

Love is the most divine healer –Val Kilmer

Click Your Heels Together 3 times

And say “There’s no place like home”.

Everyone wants to start the New Year fresh and free from the things that seem to cause us great pain and anguish. New years resolutions are a great time to do that with lists, small goals, and frequent rewards. It takes a lot of work and continued effort. If only we could solve all our problems with a simple click of the heels. If only we could wave a magic wand, recite a verse and yes, I’m going to say it– take a pill.

The dynamics of human behavior have been the subject of millions of studies and the birthplace of just as many theories. The affliction of addiction is no different.

There are many opinions on how to handle the behaviors of addiction. Many still believe that doling out harsh ultimatums and threats will give us the outcome we want. The theory is like this maze depicts: As the struggling person loses everything one by one, they will surely have their come-to-Jesus moment. This looks reasonable especially when we continually hear cliche phrases of “they will have to lose everything to wake up”.

Losing each of these things is an entire trauma in itself, yet we are sometimes misled into thinking that by forcing more damage onto someones unraveling life, we will bring them to their knees faster.

This theory of cause and effect may work on a mouse or other predictable lifeforms, but not so well on souls that have so many other variables such as free will.

There’s a difference between experiencing natural consequences and inflicting more cruelty and pain onto a struggling person. 

We forget that we are not in control of someones destiny just as they are not in control of ours. In reality, addiction's path looks more like this maze.

Pain can be a great motivator, just as desperation can. But these things in and of themselves, without the mindset to change; will just result in more pain and desperation. We can look at any homeless encampment and ask if their pain and desperation just isn’t enough yet? How messed up is that thinking?

We forget how easily we can lose ourselves in wanting to change destiny. We want so much to be in control of how we feel. We think that the most probable way of making that happen is to actively change others instead of working on ourselves.

Boundaries are one way to work on ourselves and allow for the natural consequences to occur without vitriol and anger, directed at the struggling soul. But mostly, boundaries are for our peace, without worrying about the outcome.

When we become clear in our role, our peace can have the space to rise up and push aside the worry; because we know we are doing all we can, with love and dignity for ourselves and our person.

As I reflect back on this year, I am overcome with the blessings I have. It’s been a roller coaster ride, balancing my role in my adult family as it relates to the struggles of my son. I have been dealt pretty straightforward ‘advice’ that if only I would do….. XYZ, then it would make … XYZ happen AND the icing on the cake, is that THEN I would be worthy of having the respect (?) or at least the privilege of a relationship with certain people. However, if there’s one thing I’ve finally learned in my 54 years, is that it’s impossible to please everyone.

Luckily we all get to choose our battles. We all have the freedom to do what’s in our heart and what we are capable of providing at any given time. The sooner we learn our capabilities and limits of our time and energy, the more at peace we will be. Running around trying to please everyone, is mentally and physically exhausting.

The casualties of addiction are spread far and wide by systems and consequences out of our control. The very least we can do is not be a casualty ourselves, and not spread more damage and pain.

I saw a meme lately that said “it doesn’t matter what your intentions were, it matters what actually happened.” This made me sad, because there are so many variables out of our control, how can we take responsibility for it all?

My intent was never to cause more division. My intent was for everyone to find their peace, to have more joy. To have oodles of love and laughter. If I thought my actions and presence would cause such discontent and anger; I would rather not even be here. But once again, I am not in charge. That brings me great relief that I don’t have to try to fix everything anymore. I don’t even have to do damage control, because my power is not that great. My glory is to do what I think is best and treat people as best as I can. E

When my heart starts aching in pain at the thought of certain family members being alone or unhoused or cold and hungry or others missing their daddy that they used to love, or those who feel abandoned, even by me; I have to turn it over to the One who has the power. I don’t have the capability to know everyone needs and their destiny. I don’t have the power to fix everything and everyone. I only have the power to do the best I can with me.

And this is my goal for 2023.

To find peace in the journey

Maybe that’s what it has always been and I just went about it wrong, searching every crevice for the cure. But now, equipped with all the wisdom from my travels, and the knowledge of my true role; I can face 2023 with hope and peace. Peace that I don’t have to have all the answers. And the One who has the answers, requires my complete cooperation in faith.

May you find your peace in 2023🕊️

Deep Learning versus Disease?

I despise the argument of addiction being a disease or a choice. For the simple fact that I’m a nurse. If a child has a sliver in their finger, it really doesn’t matter how it happened; we just have to get it out. Even while the child is fighting us trying to get it out.

With addiction, I just don’t see the relevance to what it matters after the fact. If it’s a choice then are we really going to use that as a punishment?

Someone is writhing in pain from excruciating nausea and chills and shaking uncontrollably and we are going to tell them you made this choice? Really?

Or the unconscious patient, as we stand there holding the narcan saying, “I don’t know dude, I don’t know if this was accidental or your choice so I’ll just stand here and play God for a minute until I decide if you’re worth saving”.

Remember the tainted Tylenol episode from year’s ago? Someone put stuff in bottles of Tylenol then put them back on the shelf. Customers took them for pain or discomfort and a few died.

Well -I make the argument that Addicts are in pain and discomfort and they take something to make themselves feel better too. And some of what they take is deadly. Just because we don’t agree with what they took doesn’t make their life less valuable.

I’m all about finding better ways to get them to not want to take the “tainted” Tylenol.

So it was interesting to read this article from the National Drug and Alcohol Centre in Sydney; stating that addiction may be more the result of Deep Learning. Rather than a disease. …or basically Habits as I wrote earlier.

The article states that:

“Addiction still is ‘probably’ triggered by stress or alienation. It can duly be unlearned by forging stronger synaptic pathways via better habits”.

This gives me alot more hope for recovery for my son, than being chained to 12 step meetings the rest of their life and forever facing “triggers” that will surely cause relapse.

I feel that way because that seems to be my son’s attitude too, and a main reason why he doesn’t seek recovery. He just doesn’t believe in the current advertised recovery model. He sees the statistics and sees the relapses and he feels like the stigma perpetuates that it’s a lifelong battle and only makes addicts feel hopeless that they can’t achieve that.

Some of this attitude is definitely his hijacked brain talking, trying its damndest to extend the addiction as long as it can, to keep my son it’s slave in misery.

My son also doesn’t trust the medical prefessionals who he feels perpetuated his early addiction. ( Again, this IS his hijacked brain talking- BUT The proof has also come out that this is true. )

The article agrees:

“The implication for the $35 billion-dollar treatment industry in the US is that tackling addiction as a medical issue should be only a small element of a more holistic approach. The problem is, there’s a lot of vested interest – and financial investment – in perpetuating the disease model”.

Professor Allison Ritter expresses fatigue with the brain disease model.

“It has not produced any new technologies for treatment nor necessarily decreased stigma or improved the lot of people who experience dependence problems”.

Matthews Hope Foundation is one model that’s trying to change the landscape of recovery with remapping the brain to imbed different pathways which result in better habits. It’s called Iasis technology.

On their website they have Nicole Labors’ Neuroscience of Addiction video. She is one of my favorite advocates for explaining addiction and this video hits it all.

Regardless, the cause isn’t nearly as important as the solution. As this Mother who has lost a child stated: What does it matter? The pain of loss is heartbreaking.

As I sit here in the early morning hours finishing this article, awaiting my nurse shift to begin; I’m overwhelmed with a sadness that I even have to defend my son’s recovery. So much energy spent on some sort of moral aspect of addiction, when people are suffering and dying. It’s heartbreaking. My entire family has a big hole in it from this journey, just as we would if my son had a debilitating, progressively deadly disease such as Lou Gehrig’s. Some diseases do affect the mind eventually yet that doesn’t lessen our compassion for them.

Addiction is a complex insidious, torturing disease of the brain and all I’m asking for is some compassion that will move people toward more action- less judgement.

365 Days

As I watched the black swirly water from my home box of hair coloring make its way down the slowly backing-up drain; I thought of how significant this is for the end of this year. All my disappointments, black clouds of despair, & misunderstandings going, going, gone down the black jole of nowhere. Disappearing– yet holding on just enough to let me wade in the remnants of their chaos.

Although I’ve had a lot of blessings this year its also been a year of frustration & roadbumps. What I HAVE learned is to never let yourself get too comfortable. We know change is a given & most of the time, its not our choice.

When we somehow assume that we have arrived or that now life can began to get better, the rug will be pulled out from under us again. I’m not saying to be a pessimist and I certainly don’t think living in a state of paranoia is healthy; but I do think if we live each day as if things could change tomorrow, it would be a little less disappointing.

The power dynamic in relationships contributes to the level of toxicity and can originate for many

reasons. Mental illness, addiction, or strong personality types.

People are very fragile inside. Just because you’ve nabbed that guy into marriage, or finally arrived at a place you have wanted, it’s not ever a given that it will stay that way. You HAVE to constantly feed that relationship, work on job skills, people skills. People are constantly evolving. Their emotions & feelings change & they are feverishly trying to keep up with their own thoughts and their own selves.

We can’t assume that we aren’t hurting them by saying something that we’ve always said before, or by taking them for granted, just because yesterday they may have responded a certain way– such as ambivalence. 

Their ambivalence might be a defense mechanism to not be hurt further.

Sometimes we don’t realize how cutting our words are until it’s too late. If someone is stonewalling us, we might be toxic or–at the very minimum- not helpful to an already challenging situation. Most people- people who have a heart-will eventually have regrets when the relationship ends due to death. If we can put aside our ego, and/or heal our benevolence and pain; while there is still time, then we can create stronger bonds that are helpful, not hurtful.

We can achieve this by practicing heart-centered communication that fosters family relationships instead of continually punishing ourselves and others with being right at all times and/or being the virtuous one.

Healed people don’t expect every interaction to fulfill their emotional needs. Healthy people don’t demand rigid rules of communicating.

Before my parents died I had one goal for many many years. It was to not have any regrets after they passed. I lived that every single day with them for 20+ years. And except for the very end of their lives, I have very few regrets.

I have now practiced this with my struggling son for the last few years.

On Christmas, my husband and I sat in a cozy Mexican restaurant in a rundown part of town with him. I looked into his eyes and saw a defeated man. I saw a glimpse of a loving dad as he looked at a picture of his daughter who was growing up without him. A daughter who he was very close to for the first 7 years of her life. Who he sent flowers to when he was working out of town. A daughter that addiction took him away from her and every time he gets close to being in her life, the prize is pulled further away, like a perpetually moving carrot. I saw his deep pain & almost disdain for what his life has become. He still thinks bigger than life, while having nothing to his name. He struggled to voice his feelings and explain how his behaviors seem to make sense to him, but to us they seem convoluted and chaotic.

My heart ached so deeply I thought I would crumble into tears. But I had to stay strong. I had to show my son hope. I had to let him believe that there was one more miracle n store for him. I had to somehow convince him that sobriety was better than this. That he would be a dad again despite tremendous obstacles and unhealed pain. I had to be the lighthouse that helps guide him out of darkness. And if I can’t guide him out, then I must be able to sit with him in pain. I will have no regrets with my son. That is my goal. He will know he’s loved and capable and strong. He will believe that many people love and care for him, even if they don’t or can’t say it.

I will remind him. I will be the voice of those still too unhealed and angry. I will be the link, the connection.

Because heart- centered Love is just that. It centers in the heart and stays there forever, despite circumstances beyond reasonable control.

As each new year starts it gives us an excuse to have no regrets- at least with how we treat people. One more day means we can try again. 365 days to get it right, do it better next year. We may not have the power to change the outcomes, but we have the power in ourselves to spread life and love over mangled and desperate souls.

So, just like my swirling black water tonight- I let go of everything I’ve perpetrated against unknowingly. People I’ve hurt and offended. You can’t move forward with the same problems if you are in the same mindset as when the problems were created, so I’m letting them go down the drain. Here’s a toast to 2023. May it be full of love- not regret. Full of appreciation-not bitterness. And full of heart-centered effort- not regret…💖🎆💖🎆💖🎆💖

The Christmas Letter

Remember The Christmas Letter?

We’ve all received them, folded  & tucked inside the ever- dwindling colorful Christmas cards.” It was the one time that parents could brag about their children’s extracurricular activities. 

“Jordan is excelling in football, drama club and was voted class president.

Katy has turned her love of animals into a dog walking service while participating in cheer, dance, choral club, chemistry club, and babysitting at night for extra money".

For me, I haven’t even had the thought to send one- even with social media. The last few years have sent me inward to a place where I have been forced to explore my identity outside of my kid’s accomplishments and failures. Being thrown into the world of addiction has a way of humbling the bragging rights right out of a person.

The dread, the despair, the disappointment; that your child isn’t living up to their potential and is endangering their life and health.

The fear of getting “The Call” one day overrides any hope of things changing for the better.

“What did I do wrong?”

Is the question many mom’s ask. Was I too strict? Too lenient? To dismissive? Too busy?

Did I overcompensate for my kid’s failures in the name of “just get it done?”

While researching for my book about my journey through my son’s addiction, I found many things I should have done differently.Especially after reading Gabor Mate`s research. But how is that helpful now?

Who needs more guilt?

There is not one cause for a so called “failure”. And besides, what is failure and what is success?

fb://photo/5208130475954717?set=a.703250633109413&sfnsn=mo&extid=a&mibextid=oXxBu3

As I came across this headline for the perfect mom who did everything right and wants to share her secret; I admit I may have cringed a little.

Was I was offended that she idealized the perfect parent and that a child’s success is directly correlated to said perfect parenting?

But then I realized that my children’s success is NOT dependent on what contributions to the business world they make. Even though my addicted son did build several successful businesses; is his worth now non-existent because of his low fico score?

Although all of my children have had their ups and downs in financial success, they all have hearts of gold and strong work ethics.

They have all worked a job since they were 15 and always aspired to improve their situations.

Todd Casale- LinkedIn

My kids were taught to respect their elders, to respect others’ space and rights. And mostly to help people when needed. They are all very pleasant to be around and have fantastic senses of humor. They can make a friend of anyone, because of these qualities.

All my kids have influenced those around them in whatever situation they were in, whether in a work environment or a still-learning, challenging environment with other unhealed people.

But I had to wonder:

Am I essentially doing the same thing as her- bragging up my kids in order to reflect positively on me?

Sure. We are all human. I also am likely reacting to being the mother of a person with substance use disorder who has ended up in the correctional system as a result. Before this experience, my family may have joked about posting bail or being a prisoner in certain scenarios but not any more.

When that world hits home and you are getting a call from your child at so & so correctional facility; life suddenly turns real.

How do you put that in a Christmas Letter?

Luckily my bond runs deeper than what the world says my son is.

My bond says that even when homeless, he has worth and value. Such worth and value that he deserves the dignity of being offered housing, food and at least — kindness. He doesn’t need to be shunned away like Napoleon who I write about here

So what would my Christmas Letter read if I did send one?

As this year draws to a close, I hope you and yours are doing well and thriving. Our family continues to have a hand in the game of life with many challenges and blessings. I am grateful for the opportunities to practice unconditional, fierce love for all my children. They continue to fight and explore the complexities of life through a kaleidoscope of adventure. One son has explored this from the steel & brick walls of a jail cell, but also from a kayak on a beautiful lake. Another son has built up his business to afford a brand new house, vehicles, and a growing family and the challenges and blessings that come with that. Another son has finely found his happiness being a stepdad to two amazing kids. A daughter seeks joy every day with her large family of kidlets - who all love sports. Another daughter continues her search for her niche in life and the challenges of supporting herself. We are all extremely blessed to have one more day to figure it out and survive and thrive. Our love runs beyond prison walls, beyond the frailties of the human spirit, and lies deeper than the challenges of the human ego and outward personalities. We are connected through hearts and souls, even in times of separation and strife. We extend our love and blessings to you and yours and wish you a happy holiday season.

Please check out my new blog on Medium. Happy Holidays!

https://link.medium.com/kE8T4RyCZvb

Falling To Grace

As my son’s life spins more out of control, I feel myself spinning too. Falling away from him. Away from having to defend him. Away from justifying anything. It hurts. But it’s a numbing kind of hurt. A tired hurt.

I wonder, Is this how he felt when he was choosing between the choices he had?

A numbing peace?

A tiredness.
What stressors that he must have faced, day after day: Running a business, keeping everyone happy. Never being enough. Never quite getting it right. Never feeling quite comfortable in his own skin. Always using humor & distraction to move away from those feelings.

The world tells us we are never enough. It’s hustle, hustle – to win the game. But those with addictive qualities, take that further. They can’t stop at certain points which balance it out. Those with mental illness become hyperfocused on unhealthy behaviors.

Netflix’s new show Words on Bathroom walls shows the demons that mental illness brings and what people have to do to relieve those.

I’ve spent over 3 years now, doing a deep dive into why my son started using. The entire time, it appeared he was getting worse and worse. As Lorelie Rozzano stated in her post recently:

“Weeks, months, and years passed.
I grew progressively sicker, and somewhere along the way, I STOPPED CARING…

Justifications, rationalizations, and blame were ingrained in my thinking. My cognitive reasoning skills were poor—every thought I had allowed me to justify my behavior and rationalize my use.

Because my brain was a toxic chemical soup, my behaviors grew increasingly more unhealthy. I justified using, stealing, cheating, procrastinating, yelling, swearing, over/under-eating, shopping, and the many other poor choices I made.

I built a sticky web of deceit and drug dependency and then became trapped by my thinking. It was the worst kind of hell as I was both the victim and the perpetrator of my demise.

Lorelie Rozzano

I also have become trapped in my thinking. Thinking I can fix this.

I can’t.

And maybe that’s how he feels. Too much to fix…Without the know-how to do it.

Although WE can see the way out pretty clearly, their hijacked zero-coping skill brain can’t.

And we can’t tell them the way out. As my husband eloquently stated regarding this blog and it’s title:

Falling From Grace


It suggests a feeling of surrender, which can only come when one recognizes that the battle is unwinnable. Falling away from having to defend and justify illustrates in my mind the laying down of arms and the raising of a white flag. Which ties in perfectly to the tiredness you describe. Like a soldier with battle fatigue. I know that feeling. It is similar to how I felt when I withdrew from my 2-year custody battle all those years ago.
Feeling trapped in your thinking.
It takes a wise and powerful mind to be able to conclude that it’s own patterns are flawed. Also the word “trapped” suggests a situation from which you desire escape. Which means you want something better for yourself.
In “Falling From Grace” Mason is said to have made choices. This honors his adulthood and freewill instead of casting him as the powerless victim, which makes him sound weak and infantile. I know he would agree.
Grace beautifully conveys that you haven’t quit, but you have done all that you can do.

I like how this lady in long term recovery describes the addicted brain:

“The lack of coping skills to handle day to day challenges physical emotional psychological spiritual etc, are the core reasoning behind the need to use n abuse. All of which leads to self-destructive behaviors & uncontrollable actions that without the desire for change, leads to a self destructive lifestyle. The individual [must somehow] makee the choice to stop & force themselves to feel & learn to manage feelings & problem solve.

If not, they continue to self destruct & live day by day in the life of an addict. Only when the [recovering] addict begins to make rational decisions will he or she allow themselves to rebuild & recondition the mind- learning to think things through by positive reinforcement- Marta Deleon

Keywords”The addict can begin…..” Not the addict’s mom… Everyone has to do their own work. Even then- there’s a certain point (such as where I’m at now) to turn it over to Grace.

I have to remember Joyce Meyer’s word in “Closer to God Each Day:

"We often get frustrated because we are trying to live by our own works when our lives were brought into being and designed by God to be lived by Grace. The more we try to figure out what to do to solve our dilemmas, the more confused, upset, and frustrated we will become.
.....just stop and say 
"Oh Lord, give me Grace (your power and ability)." -Joyce Meyer

I can only pray that there’s enough Grace (divine love or pardon) to catch us both as we are falling.

Falling to Grace.