Can We Talk About Alcoholism and Suicide?

Here's an important article from The Chicago Tribune inviting readers to at least be willing to open the conversation about alcoholism, drug addiction and suicide.

We are, and maybe rightfully so, careful in how we talk about people who have died. But celebrity also comes with responsibility. The public eye is in public. So, rather than whisper, some folks are talking about the role of alcohol in Anthony Bourdain's life and death.

Here's the article:http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/opinion/commentary/ct-perspec-alcoholism-anthony-bourdain-drinking-suicide-0622-20180621-story.html

 I hope you will share it with others, and that you'll share your comments here too. We can't talk too much about addiction.

Vacation in Recovery-The Family Road Trip

Well, of course recovery never really goes on vacation but recovering people do. Going to meetings while traveling is one of the smartest things we can do. It’s not just that we stay sober or abstinent longer and better, but vacations get better the longer we are in recovery.

One advantage of vacation recovery is that we learn to stress less about the “stuff” of travel. One of the best pieces of vacation advice I ever received from a sponsor is that “The trip begins when you are packing.” I used to be so miserable all through the process of getting to the place where I was going to be vacationing that the car ride and the airport and the taxi rides were awful—for me and everyone around me. I wanted to get to the vacation place because I thought my adventure would begin then and there but that’s not true. Listen to the stories people tell about great trips…it includes the taxi and the airport and the jitney and …

But I just got some new inspiration for this year’s vacation from a brand-new book,

 “Don’t Make Me Pull Over! The Informal History of the Family Road Trip”

Richard Ratay has written the most fun and illuminating memoir/history book/trivia game/memory stimulator. 

Ratay tells the story of his family’s many vacation road trips –Wisconsin to Florida-- the days before cell phones, in car screens, and easy access to on-road dining. I’m guessing you will relate to his and his parent’s dilemmas of packing, driving, managing kids in the backseat—all before car seats, seatbelts and movies in the car.

If your summer travels take you on the road to family or friends—here’s your hostess gift. And this might even be—how old-fashioned—a book you read aloud in the car to each other. You’ll either laugh a lot or have to explain a lot to younger folks—or both.

But that is what we want when we vacation in recovery—some laughter, some adventure and some learning.

But be sure to include some twelve-step meetings in your travels—that too, is part of the adventure and the learning.

Over the years I have been to meetings all over the United States and in France, Germany, Poland, Italy, England, The Czech Republic and Bermuda. I've gotten directions, restaurant advice, suggestions on local sites, invites to performances, guidance on public transportation, sometimes rides and always smiles, encouragement and patience with the language barrier.

There is something so fun and smart about asking a new twelve-step group for suggestions about where to eat, what to do, the best way to drive to the next city etc. I’ve been tipped off to bargain shopping, fabulous inexpensive restaurants, great things to see, and the places to avoid. 

As we move “out of the woods” We don’t need a guidebook to tell us where the locals eat or shop—we have our local recovery “family” that we can ask. This is where AA and AAA meet up and it is such a bonus. We also learn that twelve-step principles always prevail regardless of age, location, politics or language.

When You Want to Be Like Everybody

You know that thing that parents say when a kid
begs, "But everybody's doing it." And Mom or Dad say, "Well, if everybody jumped off the bridge, would you jump too?"

They were trying to be helpful and squash that
sense we had of wanting to fit in, and be like everybody else.

Well, that feeling doesn't go away just because we get older. And, if we are trying to do something new or risky, that wanting to be like  "everybody" can often haunt or hinder us.

Well, I found an adult way of helping myself through that sticky, insecure spot. I made myself an "Everybody Wall".

Since I struggled with believing in myself as a writer and artist and performer--I had to redefine who my "everybody" is.

When I would get stuck thinking that I was supposed to be different, or successful in some other way, I knew that I needed some peers. And in the beginning--and even now--I had to find those peers in people I loved but had not met. And that's who went on my "Everybody Wall."

I needed reminders that there were many women who heard that different drummer, or who were called to do less traditional work, or who turned out to be just fine even though they were not liked, or understood, or even truly known.

Here are my pals, my sacred sisterhood, my everybody:

Dorothy Day, Helen Gurley Brown, Pema Chodron, Wislawa Szymborska, May Sarton, Amelia Earhart, Erma Bombeck, Georgia O'Keefe  and Coco Chanel.

Who are your sisters--your sacred mentors--and your "everybody"?

If There are Two Roads Diverged...

You know the famous Robert Frost poem about the two roads. Maybe you memorized it in Junior High, maybe you rolled your eyes every time it was misquoted.

So often that poem is taught or referenced as if Frost was trying to encourage the reader to take the alternative path in life, (quit your job, be an artist, move to Portland) even though he clearly says, “the passing there had worn them really about the same.”

Frost is saying that we have choices, and that we often worry over them, and that yes, we will wonder how it will all look to us later, and we’ll “look back with a sigh.”

It seems that, especially in recovery, we do have to make a lot of choices. Will we know which path to take? How, in our recovering lives do we discern—discernment meaning to choose between goods—the best path? How, as we come out of the woods of addiction, with choices so seemingly luxurious, will we know what to do? How do we make our choices? 

I like to remember this passage from Isaiah 30:21:

“And you will hear a voice behind you saying, ‘This is the path. Walk ye in it.”

We can indeed hear a voice. And that’s a good thing. But we also know that our Higher Power whispers and doesn’t scream.

That is why we have to get quiet at some point every day, or maybe several times a day. And that is why, especially when we have a decision to make, we need more time in quiet. That is why we need time alone, and time in nature. That is why we have to get very still: so we can hear that voice saying, “This is the path. Walk ye in it.”

Treat Addiction Like Cancer by Laura Hilgers

I want  to share with you a great opinion piece from yesterday's New York Times. Laura Hilgers, makes the case that we should be treating addiction like other serious, chronic, possibly fatal illnesses.

Hilgers shares that she was a caregiver for one family member with cancer at the same time she was the caregiver for another loved one with addiction.


But that the way each serious illness is
treated, and the way each caregiver role is experienced, is very different.

Here's a fact that jumped out at me: "Addiction, like cancer, is a complex disease that requires a multi-pronged approach. It also affects 1.5 times as many people as those with all cancers combined..."

Sometimes those of us with long-term recovery forget that part of our work, and our path, is to live the gratitude for our own recovery by reaching out--and reaching back--to advocate for others who need or who are seeking recovery. We need to relate rather than compare. Alcohol, drugs, opioids--all of it is addiction, and we know about that. Which also means that we can be voices for education and advocacy.

Please read Hilgers op-ed. I've attached the link below. Please share this with folks you know--folks in recovery, in healthcare and your public servants.

Here's the link: https://nyti.ms/2GyF7Fr

A Little Bit About Me

I have been writing about women and recovery and personal growth and spirituality for more than 30 years. Folks who read this blog often ask, "What else do you do?" So, I thought maybe it's time to share a little more.

I am, of course, a recovering woman. And a writer. I'm also a speaker, teacher, coach and spiritual director. The center of my being is about sharing information and helping others. In addition to this blog, I also blog about couples and caregiving over at www.LoveintheTimeofCancer (Love in the Time of Cancer) where I cover all of it: the logistics, the resources, the feelings and the relationship dynamics around caregiving--even intimacy and sex.

Another blog I play with occasionally is called "Never Up Never In..Love" That's one for women who golf or who want to golf, and there too I write about relationships, emotions, psychology etc.

I write in other venues as well: I'm a columnist with the Albany Times Union, and other newspapers across the U.S. And I have books--three of them. It still amazes me that I went from a stricken, envious (of other writers), addicted woman to a women with almost 35 years of recovery and three books and a writing life. 

Here are those books:

I also do a lot of public speaking, and I lead workshops and retreats. And I love that work.

In my work as a spiritual/creativity coach I help people sort out their creative lives or spiritual lives--and you know, those two are always inextricably connected.

With all this I also have a long career in human services, marketing & development work. I'm the director of Development & Grants at Unity House of Troy, and a development and board consultant and trainer. In these ways too, I support people and teach and coach--and I learn every day--another big value of mine.

If there is ever a way that I can help you with a talk or workshop or retreat or a speech, please call me. I am happy to help you with your work too.

Celebrating Graduations and Long Recovery

It is the season of commencement speeches. High schools and colleges near and far are celebrating their graduates by hosting celebrity speechmakers. We listen for sound bites from CEO’s and novelists, college presidents and politicians. Most of their talks inspire, but there has come to be an underlying message linking education, graduation and material

success.

For people in recovery—there is another experience. The degree is wonderful, the greater earning power is important, but watching a new life blossom is incredible. And there is also the experience of doing another hard thing one-day-at-a-time.

College graduations along with job promotions and weddings and baby blessings are a joy to all of us in recovery.  Certainly we love our own accomplishments, but watching our fellows grow and change and reach public milestones is equally a delight. The recovery experience is one of the rising tide raising all boats.

But there is something about a college graduation. We’re Americans after all, and a college degree is a marker of so much. For many of us it’s the thing we couldn’t get through in our using days.

So many recovery stories include making a mess of education, or of studying some subject to please family or because it sounded good when we were under the influence.

But then, after a period of recovery—when the mental fog clears there is a deeper clarity that comes. 

Often we get that clarity from people around us in the rooms: “Hey,” someone tells us, “you are good with people (or numbers, or cars or languages or music).”  Then we might tearfully tell our sponsor in a whispery voice that, “When I was younger I wanted to be a nurse (or a vet, or a teacher, or a writer or designer.) 

And a wise sponsor will remind us that we already have started our life over so why not take an accounting class or get a part-time job with animals, or go talk to someone about the pre-requisites for nursing.

And then the true barometer measures both our head and our heart: Do I really like this thing? Could I do more, take another class, maybe get a degree?

And does it take a long time? Yes, it does, but so does long-term recovery and we want that just as much and recovery takes a long time and has a certain amount of drudgery too.

So when someone in your home group meeting announces that they have completed their Associates degree or their GED or invites everyone to the open house at their new boutique, you will want to be there. 

The best commencement speech will come later on, and it will be in a church basement with folding chairs and bad coffee, but the cheering will be loud and strong.

***

For more on long-term recovery take a look at my book, "Out of the Woods" published by Central Recovery Press.