Looking Within

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Memoir Excerpt:

 “That summer (2009) I wanted her to come visit and see our farm in the Southwest. In she flew from sunny Palm Springs to sunny New Mexico, and it was a joy to have her with us for a few days. Angie is, among other things, a very talented artist, and I asked her to paint a little sign naming our farmhouse Casita del Mar, so named because of my huge shell collection. It still hangs on the post in my front courtyard, though in the years since her visit it has sustained a lot of weather damage.

 

We had fun, tooling around Santa Fe, and visiting the Georgia O’Keeffe Museum. I knew she would appreciate seeing this artist’s work. Angie had a gift for expression, both in the spoken word and in her renderings. As a child she wrote a lot of poetry. She also could capture on paper a face or expression with great accuracy. In art school I was good at drawing elevations and brick walls, but I couldn’t begin to draw someone’s face. Angie had a great gift.

 

We continued north up the slow mountain road to the Taos Pueblo, where we visited a potter we knew and bought some more of her pieces. The next day we took Angie up the tram on Sandia Crest, where you can see for miles in three directions. Looking out for hundreds of miles—and looking within. I knew I was doing a lot of that in my own recovery, but Angie never shared her recovery work with me. On our last day together we celebrated her birthday at dinner in Corrales. Of course, she had to get back to work. We hugged at the airport and said goodbye. Again, there were so many goodbyes—so much uncertainty. I will never allow complacency into my life again. I will never, ever, take a moment of happiness for granted.”

Find Something To Smile About

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look for the good 1

Silver linings are everywhere in our lives. I try to appreciate them when I see them. My family has lived through four generations of alcoholism, but it wasn’t until my daughter was stricken with drug addiction that I was motivated to go into serious recovery for myself. Losing Angie all these years to this cruel disease has been heartbreaking, and my serenity has come at a very high price. But though I’ll never get over these lost years with her, I like to think that she would be glad that I’ve survived and am learning to live well. This is how I honor her memory. She’s left a few flowers along the way, and I’m grateful.

Acceptance—Of Self And Others

Marilea C. RabasaLeave a comment

Memoir Excerpt:

 “Ever since I was a very young child I’d been fragile, like thin ice on a lake—don’t walk on it; you might fall through and drown. My sense of being OK was always shaky when I was younger. Many of us who grow up with low self-worth become chameleons. Chameleons change their color out of fear to protect themselves from predators. We don’t have clear personal boundaries, often not recognizing where we end and others begin. We don’t really know who we are, so we attach ourselves to whomever we’re around, often seeking their approval by pretending to be like them. But like the chameleon who turns green in the jungle, we are afraid to distinguish ourselves. I remember telling Angie back in 2010, ‘I know who I am now.’ Well, that’s an ongoing process.

Now I accept who I am, warts and all. I know that absolute perfection doesn’t exist anyway. My years of growth in the Twelve-Step Programs have brought me out of isolation while I’ve celebrated my humanity. As I dare to take new risks I continue to learn new things about myself. I respect my imperfections because they keep me humble and swimming in the stream of life with other fellow travelers also struggling like me. I am never alone.”

Freedom From The Obsession

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ODAT 4_11                                                                                           One Day at a Time

 

When we take the first step in recovery and admit our powerlessness over addiction, we are facing the reality of this disease. We are not dropping the ball and throwing our addict to the wind. That’s how I felt in the beginning, as I continually obsessed over my child and tried to control the progress of her illness. I felt very guilty and overly responsible for what she was going through. I introduced her to rehab four times, always hoping that she would embrace the recovery tools she learned there.

Some addicts “get it” and go on to recover and work at it one day at a time. Angie did get it for various (blessed) periods over the past 15 years, but then she couldn’t hold onto it. I learned many things in the rooms, especially to accept that it’s not my fault and that I must let go of my responsibility and get out of her way. I pray for her to find the spiritual wellness that I have found, but there’s not much else I can do. And I can’t “force the solution” that I want. God has His own plan for her, and for me, and for all of us. I trust in my faith, and that relieves me of my obsession.

“Let go and let God,” twelve times a day

Steering My Ship

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Memoir Excerpt: 

“Most people have rules that they try to live by: a certain moral code that they may have picked up from their parents or others as they grew up…and the best piece of wisdom, I think, is the Serenity Prayer:

‘God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference.’

There are so many things in my life over which I have no control: the weather, road rage, barking dogs. Really, the capriciousness of events that surround us is astounding and is perhaps the reason why many people, myself included, need a lot of daily structure to feel grounded and secure. A sound mind, good health and a sense of wellbeing only add to that state. But when illness strikes, all sense of security and control flies out the proverbial window.

My daughter falling ill with drug addiction threw my life into turmoil, and I spent years flailing around like a decapitated chicken trying to make sense of things and gain a sense of control. My life was becoming very messy because I kept trying to influence the course of an illness that had nothing to do with me. Turning my attention to other areas where I could have had an impact would have been more constructive. I know I must continue to accept the unpleasantness as hard as it is because if I don’t—if I fight tooth and nail to get my way—I’ll just make myself crazy. I’ve kept trying to help Angie because I care so much, but it’s a losing battle if the change is beyond my reach. Our addicts may indeed find recovery—and we all pray that they do—but if they do, it will be through their own efforts and commitment, not ours.

The big sticking point, however, for anyone who loves an addict is where and when and why and howinthenameofallthat’sholy can I ever let go? It’s a process we all go through in different ways and at a different pace. There is no right or wrong way. The Twelve Steps have provided me with a useful program for living and given me the guidance I’ve needed to navigate through the difficulties in my life.”

Punching It Out

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There are many stages to grief and loss. I’m grateful to be at a place of acceptance and peace now. But I didn’t always feel this way. Four years ago I was very, very angry, as is clear in this scene from my memoir (A Mother’s Story: Angie Doesn’t Live Here Anymore):

“’I hate you, Addiction! You are the curse of this century and I despise you. You’ve stolen my daughter and this is what I think of you: Kapow! Boom! Left jab to the right eye. Bleed, you b—– Angie may not have the strength to fight you, but I do. Here’s a right hook to your left eye. Keep bleeding, you s-o-b. This one’s for my dad. Ever since I can remember, you snatched him from my life. This one’s for Angie, you piece of sh–. Is this how you get off? Turning a beautiful, bright young woman into a vegetable? And this one’s for me, you giant succubus. Me, I won’t let you destroy. Me, I’m gonna save. So that my children and grandchildren will see that there is hope when struggling with Addiction. It doesn’t always have to win.’”

And it hasn’t. One day at a time, I’m learning to save myself from addiction and all the devastation it has caused in my life…and for this I am very grateful. Life does go on, and the world still turns.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“God, Grant Me The Serenity To Know The Difference…”

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From Each Day A New Beginning, March 23:

“’On occasion I realize it’s easier to say the Serenity Prayer and take that leap of faith than it is to continue doing what I’m doing.’

Most of our struggles, today as in the past, are attached to persons and situations we are trying forcibly to control. How righteous our attitudes generally are! And so imposing is our behavior that we are met with resistance, painful resistance. Our recourse is now and always to ‘accept those things we cannot change, and willingly change that which we can.’ Our personal struggles will end when we are fully committed to the Serenity Prayer.

‘The wisdom to know the difference is mine today.’”

Oh yes, the wisdom to know the difference…how often our egos get in the way of living well. We want what we want when we want it! We want our addict to give up drugs and come back to the living. If only that choice were in our hands…

But it’s not. Only addicts have the power to reach for their own recovery…and we have the power to reach for our own. That has been my choice for several years now, and I’m learning to be happy despite losing Angie to the living death of heroin addiction.

A good friend told me that ego is what separates us from God and each other. Ego (Easing God Out) is often our enemy and keeps us from the serenity we so desperately long for. So I’ve learned to turn my pain over to God (Step Three), to “let go and let God,” and that has made all the difference in my life.

Humanity Is Changing The Face Of Addiction

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A friend in Naranon shared this link with our group recently. I watched it and was so heartened to see how attitudes are changing across the country. This PBS special focused on a program in Seattle, WA. It is a practical and above all humane way to deal with addicts. The more we talk about alternative ways to treat addiction, the more likely there will be people to bring pressure to bear on government officials and on insurance companies. And the more likely our addicts will feel embraced with compassion and understanding instead of fear and judgment.

Chasing Heroin

 

It’s A Family Illness

Marilea C. RabasaLeave a comment

Memoir Excerpt: 

“I was starting to feel desperate and wanting to bring my other daughter into the loop again. The holidays were looming and they’ve always been an emotional time for me. I’m flooded with memories, both happy and sad. But more than anything, I remember the anxiety, the frantic covering up, the alcohol-enabled keeping up the appearance of being happy that I felt in my childhood.

As I felt Angie slipping away again, I wrote to Caroline and said I’d hoped she was OK and not getting sucked into Angie’s drama too much. But I needn’t have worried. She and her brother have been able to detach pretty well all these years. Or have they? They haven’t talked to me about what they were feeling, and I haven’t asked. But sometimes I think the bomb that exploded back in 2001 is still exploding, here and there. We’re all still licking our wounds, carrying on.”