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Finding peace in loving those with addiction

Higher

I pushed the plastic swing a little higher as my son squealed in delight. “Higher Mom!” His blonde hair was flying in the breeze as his head bobbled around to see me.

The cool spring air felt warmer with the sun beating down on it. I looked at my other child, Haven, running in the field with my husband. They were trying to get the kite to rise off the ground as it bounced along behind them stubbornly refusing to give up gravity.

It had been a long winter and we were happy to get the kids out of the house at the first sign of spring.

I lifted my boy off the swing and bent down to adjust his little levi pants that were twisted. With my face near his, I caught a glimpse into his excited eyes. It caught me off guard.

I was confused. I had seen those eyes. Scared. Lost. Muddled.

Where was I? I looked around. The park looked familiar, but what town? Haven and her dad joined us and I felt a strange sense of Deja Vu. Like I was watching a movie of this day and not really in it.

My husband looked younger. But wait! This was my ex- husband! What was happening? I must be having a stroke. I tried to say something to him but what could I say? “Why are you here?”

We all piled into the car in what seemed like 1000 times before and headed home. It felt familiar and normal so why was I confused? I decided this must be what it’s like to finally go crazy. As we pulled into the stone paved driveway, it hit me.

This was my Do-Over!

I had wished for this many times in the last few years.

Liam! Oh no! He’s going to be so mad! How do you say you went back to your husband 33 years into the past? This might be a problem.

Last time it happened I was walking into a jail on the edge of town with my new husband Liam.

We were walking down the deserted echoey cinder block hall in the dead of the night. The sense of trepidation was thick as fog as we had come to bail out my firstborn son, Mason. It was a window of opportunity that was rare in this journey we had been on for less than a year.

There was a strange sense of apprehension in the air. This longtime happy destination town now held a strange sense of foreboding. In numbing shock, I stared through the tiny, darkened glass window. Behind that door was stuff seen only on TV: criminals, some hardened and angry, others pale and restless, looked like lost dogs. Others appeared neutral, listless, and indifferent toward their predicaments. All had lost their freedom due to their own poor choices or unfortunate sets of circumstances. The correctional officers stood vigilant, paid to control other human beings who had lost the ability to control themselves.

I had tried so hard to mold my little family into functional, loving, successful humans; yet here we were.

The horror of the legal system had now penetrated the sanctity of my little family.

I wanted a do-over.

I wanted to go back to that little blonde haired boy and warn him somehow. Of all he would face.

As I listened to the bail bondsman’s voice drone on about how drugs had taken over the town, how officers couldn’t keep up with the revolving door, and what a tragedy it was, yet the situation made them a “dang good living.”

I thought, Well, good. I’m glad we can endure the pain and humiliation of our son being arrested for drugs to help you buy some specialty cheese. Now get me out of this nightmare!

This was Mason’s second arrest. Liam and I made the agonizing decision to bail him out and get him into rehab, which he had previously refused. We seized the opportune moment to bargain. I would soon learn how very valuable these windows of opportunity were.

Like the experts had proclaimed for years, most drug users progress through different drug types and ingestion methods due to the need for more and more of a high. My son had said several times through the first year or two of his heavy pill addiction that he would “never use a needle.” When he walked through that heavy steel door wearing a big smile because he was so happy to see us, I expected to feel relief. Instead, I was shocked. I hadn’t seen Mason for nine months. He looked like he had fought through a war zone. Instead of the happy golden blonde curls from 30 years ago, his moppy brown hair lay slumbering over his long eyelashes. At the pig farm, he started smoking pills. Now, apparently, he was using needles.

I couldn’t.

I just couldn’t fathom that this was my life.

But what do you do? Disown-them? Tell me them to get your shit together and call me then? Or as my son was told “ call me when you have all the money and 6 months clean”.

So I swallowed my feelings and let the thoughts of a do-over slide away. After all- I could be given a worse problem if I really was given a Time Machine.

I woke up from the dream of the swing and took a big sigh.

Everyone has their challenges in life. This was my hardest so far and God be willing- my last hardest before I swing into old age.

I got up to face my day. Like millions of mothers spread out across the world. Hidden in their pain. Afraid to tell their story. Afraid to be judged. I vowed that I would change that. 

We can’t be embarrassed of our kids struggles or their choices that led them there.

Yes, they are the only ones who can change it but we can be the lighthouse to show them the way out of the darkness.

I had to take care of myself and find my light.

To order my new book click here. It’s on kindle, paperback and hardcover.

Or if you would like a signed copy Venmo me here and I’ll mail it to you $20

Should I? Or Shouldn’t I?

That question has wracked my brain for 5 +years.

Should I write a book about my experience I’m experiencing?

Will anyone buy it?

How much is it going to cost me?

Then after 4 years of straight writing and revising, there was 2 years of “Should I publish it?”

It’s true that writing your story is therapeutic. Many nights when I thought I would lose my mind, I remembered that I could write it all down in a relatable and meaningful way. I would remember that there are thousands of parents and loved ones like me going through the same thing and most of them are floundering as to know what to do and where to turn.

Moms of those addicted.

A club no one wanted to be in. A club that within it has a variety of subcultures:

  • Those who believe in tough love
  • Those who don’t
  • Those who are frantically searching for answers
  • Those who have lost their child
  • Those who still have hope

Each of these categories have their own subcultures: Harm reduction advocates. Forced treatment advocates. Those who want to criminalized fentanyl. Those who want to de-criminalize addiction. Those who want to separate the one pill can kill deaths from the “addicted” deaths.

It’s all so confusing and exhausting. How could I relate to them all? Turns out I moved through each of these groups taking what I needed and leaving the rest. I withdrew from anything that took away from my peace.

I searched and studied what fit my situation best and learned that it was ok to walk away when I became too overwhelmed.

And all of it was documented and condensed into 317 pages of grief, elation, confusion and – dare I say it? Even JOY.

This project had 100’s and 100’s of revisions. So much so that I think I drove my editor crazy. Turns out it’s very expensive to chip and chop and refine a scattered brain in pain into meaningful and cohesive thoughts.

But here we are.

I present my work of devotion for 5+ years. I don’t plan on breaking any records but what I do hope for is that one Mama who’s sitting at home or in her car crying. Maybe in her driveway like my book began. Wondering like the Eagles song “Lying eyes” ; how did life get so crazy?

For that Mom and others, who appreciate a story. A kind word. A snippet of hope or wisdom. This is my gift from one broke hearted mama to another. To the abandoned child of addiction. To the left out spouses and siblings. And to those in the middle of the darkness, still struggling:

My book of my journey:

http://1000 Last Goodbyes: One Mom’s Quest to Find Peace While Navigating Her Son’s Addiction: Waters, Samatha: 9781958533277: Amazon.com: Books

For those who prefer a direct sale you can email or call my publisher

dyer.cbpublishing@gmail.com

865-414-4017

My book is available in these countries also.

The United States of America Brazil Germany

United Kingdom Poland Italy

Spain Australia China

India Russia South Korea

If you can’t buy right now, would you consider sharing this post to your social media for me? I would appreciate it. And thank you for supporting me, this blog and this huge project of mine. 💘📚💘📚💘📚💘📚💘📚

A Meltdown in Yellowstone

Lewis Lake campground Yellowstone

34 years ago I took my 2 little kids to Yellowstone and camped at Lewis Lake campground. In 2015, while driving through Yellowstone, I found the same campground and took this picture.

It may or may not be the same one, but it took me back to those days of raising my kids. Thinking of their pudgy little dirty camping faces and big bright smiles. The ponds, the frogs, the marshmallows. We were making memories without even realizing it. We were bonding even without knowing someday those bonds might be challenged.

I was completely overcome in the moment of life’s synchronicities and also the sheer devastations that affect our hearts and souls so deeply.

34 yrs happened in the flash of an eye. 1/3 of our lives, yet at the time, it seemed so long at the time. The days seemed overwrought with the business of life: school, work, food and clothing. Taking care of everyone’s needs. The busy-ness of homework, friend dates and endless car rides to sports and tournaments and science fairs.

At the time, I would collapse into bed at night exhausted, wondering what I had even accomplished. But now I know: I accomplished life.

I provided five little humans with love, connection and a mostly stable life. Our lives were not perfect and we lived paycheck to paycheck. We struggled with how to handle the changes & challenges of daily life. But my kids grew up knowing they were part of a tribe, who had a purpose. Even if that was just getting through each day with the consistently of family and finding joy and pleasure wherever we could.

Now that they are all grown and have had to face the harsh darkness of what life can throw at us, it’s sometimes easy to fall into the “what could I have done differently?” thoughts. These thoughts, while normal and natural, only lead us to more turmoil. They don’t serve us well and they certainly don’t offer hope or peace.

I was often told back then, to enjoy my kids while they are little. At the time I thought the people who said that, must not understand how stressful my life was. Now I know. They knew what was coming. They knew how little control over adults, parents have. They knew the temptations and demons that were out there just waiting for our innocent little kids.

They wanted me to have all the precious time I could while my kids were somewhat within my reach. I started to take their advice slowly and purposefully. I tried to expose my children to the great outdoors so they could appreciate the simple things. Sacrifices were made so we could take meaningful vacations. This tradition continued into their adulthood as they sought out adventures and new experiences theirselves and with their new families. Unfortunately it is also one more casualty that addiction can take the blue ribbon for. Fracturing us as a whole, just enough to stop the bonding and fun activities that were done together.

It’s not all gloom & doom. Some (most) of my kids are thriving although somewhat always struggling financially. It’s fun to see the good things they have done as adults & there are so many amazing, wonderful grandkids. My kids are all extremely hard workers and very smart. I think it all goes back to those first years of learning and growing together in a stable environment that encouraged freedom and growth. Yes, I’m going to take credit for the good, and I’m going to take some of the blame for the bad.

It’s ok to have a few regrets. Each person has their own personal responsibility for their life and the impact it has had on others.

It’s the ruminating in those regrets that keeps us stuck. For now I am trying to just be happy for the memories and for all the time spent together.

Days like today when reality hits of just how sick my son continues to be and how it affects almost every aspect of my life; I have to feel the pain and despair, acknowledge it then have my quick cry and move on.

Being in despair over what happened to my “child”, my family, and how disheartened I still feel most days; I have to take comfort in knowing that I did the best I could with what tools I had. It’s about moving forward with hope and love, being grateful for what I do have and what peace and tools are available for me.

Don’t ever underestimate the impact their childhood had on their personalities and core values. They still have them, they’re just buried under their struggles. They can get out from under them.

Hold on with hope. Someone has to.

https://www.medpagetoday.com/psychiatry/addictions/61531

Invisible Stories

Invisible stories
Invisible people You Tube channel

What a great documentary series on addiction and homelessness this channel has especially This one. He reminds me of my son. I suspect this was on a really good day because he doesn’t look very disheveled, but I also don’t know what he looked like before. Some of the comments say he died, but I didn’t research it.

Also my very assumption that he “should” look disheveled, is part of the stigma. He obviously has figured out how to make the streets work for him. He also doesn’t appear to have any mental Illness. This could be, would be my son if it wasn’t for his ADD component, I believe. His entrepreneur and driven ADD personality has him getting into more & more trouble with his use. He would like to just be this guy and enjoy his DOC like a smoker enjoys a ciggerette. But hard drugs don’t let you stay there. I believe this guy is an exception.

It’s important for these videos to show the human-ness of the invisible people-not just those who are homeless.

There is not a one answer solution to homelessness or addiction. Harm reduction IS one way to avoid help reduce long acting affects such as HIV and Hepatitis AND help get people connected to proffessionals, at least for a few minutes.

Isolation kills.

Another Californian I have huge respect for is Jen Elizabeth Here’s her instagram she’s a former addict and an author of This book which I just ordered. I’ll let you know what I think. ✔️🧾.

Addiction is one of those you-have-zero- clue until you’ve been there diseases.

I refuse to argue whether it’s a disease anymore, because just like in politics, you can’t change anyone’s mind. To me, too much energy is wasted on this argument, because are you really that much of a cold hearted person to use the “choice” argument to say these people don’t DESERVE help? If that’s the case then where’s does this argument stop? Would an AIDS patients fit with this theory? Who is the gatekeeper to decide who gets saved? Is it cops with the narcan? As a nurse, I know I can’t make that choice whether to treat patient or not, just because he made a bad decision, so I don’t think anyone else should play God either.

I’m devulging a whole chapter in my My Book coming out next year so I’ll stop. 🖐️🚫🛑

Random thoughts on this emotional Tuesday. Hope you enjoy the videos above.

Define success

(Reposted with permission) I love this fellow WordPress blogger Susana Cabaço’s work!

What’s interesting is it can go either way: People can be so obsessed with power and prestige that they lose their true selves and compromise their values. And/or they will be so filled with disappointment and loss that they spiral into a shame cycle where they can’t get up. A third option is The upper limit theory which I believe was coined by Gay Hendricks in his book “ The Big Leap”.

The definition of success in contemporary society may lead people to live a life that deviates them from their innate truth and natural right to well…

Define success

Car Show

We went to the car show today at the Los Angeles county fairgrounds. It was hot and I forgot my hat, sunglasses and sunscreen because it was originally going to be a museum day. Needless to say after 4 hours of walking around on asphalt and drinking dehydration inducing drinks, I was exhausted. I could barely make it back to the car where I collapsed into a zombie like state until we reached our hotel room.

I threw off my dusty hot clothes and jumped in the shower. Then I ate my leftover sandwich from last night with a white powdery donut to top it off. I put my AirPods in and snuggled into bed listening to my book on tape while coloring a peacock in my “365 Ways To Live in Harmony” adult coloring book.

My mind drifted to my son, like it always seems to. On the streets of Vegas homeless and addicted. Who would have ever thought? It’s beyond my wildest imagination that this would be my life or one of my kids.

Contact with him is sparse due to the inability to keep a phone and keep them charged. He had a vehicle for awhile which made that more possible but trying to keep it running and keep it from getting towed became more than he could handle without money. Also having a vehicle in Vegas heat is like pulling around the witch’s oven in Hansel and Gretel.

Back to my car show story. I’ve mostly moved past any guilt of having a warm, cozy bed and plenty of food when one of my offspring doesn’t. With a lot of hard inner work I have moved through that trigger but I have plenty of others. But what drifted across my mind tonight was how much the nervous system relies on these moments of rest to function as needed.

We are wired and pushed to go go go but we also need to keep our stoppers in prime condition so we know when to slow down.

I know we are swamped with the “ Trauma” word as a cause and/or excuse for many things these days. But there are many studies which show how trauma affects the nervous system. For the homeless and those addicted, they are used to being swamped with high levels of dopamine.

It’s how addiction works. Flooding the brain in the beginning with levels that are beyond normal so that eventually the receptors dull down and accept less and less. So it’s a losing battle to get the same euphoria yet they are now so caught up in the chase that they can’t stop.

For us, weekends, or vacations are a chance to reset our daily grind from the quest for the mighty dollar and all our family responsibilities.

We can have a break and let our nervous systems relax and renew so we are better able to face these responsibilities. For those caught up in addiction or homelessness, they never get that break except with the relief of the drugs. So the drugs replace every avenue of normal human wellness.

In my blog here I talk about the 8 dimensions of wellness including emotional, spiritual, intellectual physical, environmental, financial and occupational, and social. It’s so important for emotional health to meet at least some of each of these every day or at least every few days. This is why having one of your kids on the street or otherwise not doing well is like fingers on a chalkboard. It creates havoc in your own nervous system because it goes against every natural tendency that most mothers have.

We are born with all the instincts to keep our offspring and those entrusted to our care, safe.

Nurturing and edifying their world comes next but first and foremost we have to kept them alive so they can be nurtured and edified. This doesn’t stop when they turn 18 or when they take a left turn and go down the path of pain and turmoil.

So yes I try to keep my own wellness wheel greased and running smoothly but that doesn’t mean I don’t get sad at the times when I am cozy comfortable and my son is walking in 113 degree heat with no safe place to go.

My heart hurts in those moments. I turn to prayer often. I seek quiet moments of peace and joy where I can revel in the fact that my son is alive and he has the power and gift of God deep inside him. He was raised with a sense of right and wrong and he possesses a profound power of will. He has the skills and the drive to do anything including pull out of this incredible deep hole he has found himself in. But most of all my son knows he is loved. Even with those who have treated him according to the behaviors of the addiction, and can’t talk to him right now; my son knows that he is loved. He has a deep connection to his daughter and he always talks about his son as if he is with him and feels him, even though he hasn’t been able to see them in 2 years. 

So I continue to soothe. I relax in the sun. I relax in the shade. I listen to music. I have a refresher beverage. I revel in those who want to be with me and who pile love on me. Because my quality of life depends on my ability to self soothe and accept the joys of life amidst the sorrows.

A Meltdown in Yellowstone

Lewis Lake campground Yellowstone

34 years ago I took my 2 little kids to Yellowstone and camped at Lewis Lake campground. In 2015, while driving through Yellowstone, I found the same campground and took this picture.

It may or may not be the same one, but it took me back to those days of raising my kids. Thinking of their pudgy little dirty camping faces and big bright smiles. The ponds, the frogs, the marshmallows. We were making memories without even realizing it. We were bonding even without knowing someday those bonds might be challenged.

I was completely overcome in the moment of life’s synchronicities and also the sheer devastations that affect our hearts and souls so deeply.

34 yrs happened in the flash of an eye. 1/3 of our lives, yet at the time, it seemed so long at the time. The days seemed overwrought with the business of life: school, work, food and clothing. Taking care of everyone’s needs. The busy-ness of homework, friend dates and endless car rides to sports and tournaments and science fairs.

At the time, I would collapse into bed at night exhausted, wondering what I had even accomplished. But now I know: I accomplished life.

I provided five little humans with love, connection and a mostly stable life. Our lives were not perfect and we lived paycheck to paycheck. We struggled with how to handle the changes & challenges of daily life. But my kids grew up knowing they were part of a tribe, who had a purpose. Even if that was just getting through each day with the consistently of family and finding joy and pleasure wherever we could.

Now that they are all grown and have had to face the harsh darkness of what life can throw at us, it’s sometimes easy to fall into the “what could I have done differently?” thoughts. These thoughts, while normal and natural, only lead us to more turmoil. They don’t serve us well and they certainly don’t offer hope or peace.

I was often told back then, to enjoy my kids while they are little. At the time I thought the people who said that, must not understand how stressful my life was. Now I know. They knew what was coming. They knew how little control over adults, parents have. They knew the temptations and demons that were out there just waiting for our innocent little kids.

They wanted me to have all the precious time I could while my kids were somewhat within my reach. I started to take their advice slowly and purposefully. I tried to expose my children to the great outdoors so they could appreciate the simple things. Sacrifices were made so we could take meaningful vacations. This tradition continued into their adulthood as they sought out adventures and new experiences theirselves and with their new families. Unfortunately it is also one more casualty that addiction can take the blue ribbon for. Fracturing us as a whole, just enough to stop the bonding and fun activities that were done together.

It’s not all gloom & doom. Some (most) of my kids are thriving although somewhat always struggling financially. It’s fun to see the good things they have done as adults & there are so many amazing, wonderful grandkids. My kids are all extremely hard workers and very smart. I think it all goes back to those first years of learning and growing together in a stable environment that encouraged freedom and growth. Yes, I’m going to take credit for the good, and I’m going to take some of the blame for the bad.

It’s ok to have a few regrets. Each person has their own personal responsibility for their life and the impact it has had on others.

It’s the ruminating in those regrets that keeps us stuck. For now I am trying to just be happy for the memories and for all the time spent together.

Days like today when reality hits of just how sick my son continues to be and how it affects almost every aspect of my life; I have to feel the pain and despair, acknowledge it then have my quick cry and move on.

Being in despair over what happened to my “child”, my family, and how disheartened I still feel most days; I have to take comfort in knowing that I did the best I could with what tools I had. It’s about moving forward with hope and love, being grateful for what I do have and what peace and tools are available for me.

Don’t ever underestimate the impact their childhood had on their personalities and core values. They still have them, they’re just buried under their struggles. They can get out from under them.

Hold on with hope. Someone has to.

https://www.medpagetoday.com/psychiatry/addictions/61531

Caretaking

My daughter sent this quote to me today with a heart saying “This is you, Mom.”

It made me realize how much trauma this little girl in the picture had for a lot of her life. Things that were not talked about until years later after the damage settled in and the tendency to placate, peacemake, and isolate were deeply ingrained.

These trauma experiences not only shape our personalities but how we respond to pain, threats and criticism. To some, it makes us crave safety when feeling threatened. Fight or flight.

This little girl found out the hard way that life is harsh sometimes. That no matter how hard you try to make someone care or give you what you need; you can’t change or control others. So you choose to either be hardened and mad, or you become a peacemaker and sometimes a bit co-dependent on others responses, reactions and emotions.


We all have to move past the challenging parts of our life but a lot of times we are continually criticized for our survival methods all while criticizing others for theirs.

“Everyone is always doing the best they can” rings true everytime.

Some might respond that this doesn’t excuse poor choices and behaviors of how people are treating you. Of course not. That’s where personal boundaries come in. We don’t need to condone abuse or harassment but we can certainly try to understand the reasons they are happening.

Someone who displays narcissistic tendencies of gaslighting others, trying to control them, or outright slander, blame and vitriol; need to be treated with strong boundaries of distance, gray rocking or no contact. But we don’t need to treat them with disdain and hatred back.

I recently heard my co-worker tell a patient,

“You can’t love anyone else until you love yourself.”


I always think it’s funny when people say that, because how else do we learn positive, deeply fulfilling, transformative changes if we don’t have interactions and experiences with others?

Of course that’s usually with romantic love.

With other relationships, especially high conflict ones; those of us who are caretakers by nature (and unfortunately by {non} nurture— have to reserve our emotional energy for the things that we can be most affective with. Trying again and again to please someone who cannot heal enough to “ be pleased” is a beating-head-against-brick wall nightmare.

As for me and that little girl, I know how far she’s come and I know her heart. I can’t let recent events devalue that and cause me to question my very existence. 

Luckily opinions are not facts~they are just opinions.

I have to keep loving and hoping for good things, all the while acknowledging just how many blessings I have.

Dopamine Fuel

I would assume that scrolling through your email is a bit like being in active chaotic addiction. You know what you’re looking for and what you are interested in, so everything else is just in the way. There literally could be emails about wars and disaster and even that you owe the IRS 300k and it just doesn’t matter.

Because to the reptile brain who has soaked in enough drugs to affect the reward system, the main goal of the day is to “Get dope or die”. Their habits become so ingrained that it becomes harder to jump off the mouse wheel.

Yesterday was one of those days when I made myself sick after a few nights of no sleep and extreme worry for my son who’s in active chaotic addiction in the middle of one of the busiest and most dangerous cities. I had to go to bed for the day with a piercing migraine, dizziness and almost paralytic pain.

The messages I received, although very few, were people who were concerned about me or needed something from me. I one hundred percent could not deal with them at all. Which of course resulted in them being more concerned and more pushy.

I already have a tendency to pull back when under pressure but when things happen outside of my control, especially things that threaten one of my kids safety or their mental health; it hits me hard.

You could say my nerves are shot from the last few years. My oldest son in active chaotic addiction living in the street in a high risk city. My youngest daughter with severe anxiety, depression, social phobias and a condition called POTS which affects her blood pressure and heart rate causing severe sudden dizziness and nausea. This affects her abilty to maintain a job. Also I have to navigate many other relationships – some new, some with challenging personality disorders. These interactions lately have resulted in a 100 percent failure rate.

Several of the books I’ve been listening to lately, talk about how important the nervous system is in order to function in a healthy way. Feeling safe is important in how the nervous system functions. There are thousands of studies on neurons and chemicals which are responsible for how we feel and what we do.

When my daughter fills out 24 job applications with zero callbacks, she loses her motivation to apply for more. All the memes of “Don’t quit” seem noticeable empty of the needed dopamine required to continue filling out applications. Yet that “one more” could be the dream job for her.

The connection between habits and addiction intertwine extensively. This video by Kevin McCauley is one of the easiest videos I found to understand.

The part about getting out of bed in the morning fits my days like yesterday. 

The key is finding your motivation again in healthy ways.

Some use drugs, work or sex to survive and get through the day. Others use their rage and bitterness to fuel attacks onto others. They spend their energy figuring out revenge tactics which fulfills their dopamine supply with validation and justification.

As for me, I scroll through emails with muted interest in any of them. Hitting every brick wall lately has forced me to rest. Being unjustly attacked and accused has taken the winds out of my sails. Seeing the results of all my efforts to support my son in his rehabilitation and movement toward getting his life back together has fallen flat.

At this moment I honestly don’t know how I’ll move forward at the minimum to even show up for work, let alone solve relationship problems and situations.

Luckily, the tools are there for me to figure it out.

  • Mindfulness
  • Meditation
  • Positive environment
  • Healthy food
  • Water
  • Exercise
  • Healthy boundaries
  • Uplifting books and music

Hopefully I can incorporate these into my routine and slowly come back alive. Because if not, it leads me down a depressive path where I want to do anything EXCEPT stay alive.

It’s important for everyone to gain the tools to have on hand for these rough times. Whether it be in AA, rehab, books, tapes or a relationship with a higher power, learning positive coping skills is paramount.