From Courage To Change, May 29:
“I am not afraid of storms for I am learning how to sail my ship.” Louisa May Alcott
Recovery
Punching It Out
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…”
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.
The Voice Of An Angel
From “My Daughter/Myself” (taken from A Mother’s Story: Angie Doesn’t Live Here Anymore, by Maggie C. Romero)
Sometimes my words pale before Angie’s, and I’m very glad of that. Her voice should be loud and clear in this memoir: the voice of the child, the voice of the poet, and later, sadly, the voice of the young woman corrupted by addiction. I sprinkle the story with examples of her writing, little snapshots of my daughter, at different points in her life. When she was 8, she wrote this note at school.
Of course the great poignancy of the story is that Angie and I mirror each other. We share the same addictions. My child is a worse version of myself. And so much of my work in my life now has been coming to terms with that legacy and learning how to transcend it. I am deeply grateful for all the education and support I’ve received in the 12-Step fellowships over the years. It is in those rooms that I’ve taken back my life and learned how to be happy and at peace. Hugs and prayers to all of my friends as we share our strength and hope on this journey!
“Let Go, Or Be Dragged”
Memoir Excerpt:
“Eventually I got to a place where I admitted—no, I accepted—my powerlessness over her disease, though it was counterintuitive for me to do so. By accepting that I was powerless it still sometimes felt like I was giving up, like I didn’t care. Nothing could be further from the truth. But I had to walk over a lot of hot coals before I would know how much I loved Angie.
In time I became detached enough to look at her, feel nothing but compassion and love for her, and discuss things intellectually. It was no longer my personal mission to try to change my daughter into the person I wanted her to be. I was not Angie, and she was not me. We were separate people, and I no longer felt that her illness and/or what she chose to do about it reflected on me. This was tremendously freeing for me.
Or, as one parent writes in Sharing Experience, Strength and Hope: “Let go, or be dragged.”
It Takes Courage To Live Well
The Gift Of Faith
Memoir Excerpt:
“It wasn’t until I was tested as her mother that I found my ability to harness any faith at all. My sadness as a child paled before my growing despair as an adult child. The journey I’m on now has given me fresh new insights as I’ve confronted myself and understood where I have come from. My journey has in turn helped me understand where I have taken my own family. What was given to me has been passed down to my children. Yet I understand now that I could not have turned out differently, nor could I have been a different parent. My behavior as an adult was scripted from my childhood. What I need now is faith in something outside of myself to help me carry the burden—and gratitude that I’m finally able to ask for help. My faith has everything to do with turning over my self-will and accepting the will of another. I have found peace and serenity in acceptance of life as it is happening every day. Letting go and handing over the reins has given me the freedom to live my own life now without feeling shackled to the past or frightened of the future.”
“Life Is A Box Of Chocolates…”
From Courage to Change, March 12:
“What does another person’s mood, tone of voice, or state of inebriation have to do with my course of action? Nothing— unless I decide otherwise….
Detachment with love means that I stop depending on what others do, say, or feel to determine my own well-being or to make my decisions. When faced with other people’s destructive attitudes or behavior, I can love their best and never fear their worst.
‘Detachment is not caring less, it’s caring more for my own sanity.’”
Well, it took me a long time to get to this place, where I felt I deserved to be sane and healthy. I needed to shed a lot of baggage—things like guilt, low self-worth, and the thrill of martyrdom—in order for Al-Anon to work its magic on me. Guilt, in particular, cripples us and puts at risk when we need to set limits. Not until I did this was I able to set healthy boundaries with the people in my life. Like all card-carrying codependents, I didn’t know where I ended and the other person began. I was enmeshed in everyone’s difficulties, Angie’s most of all, which effectively kept me from facing myself in the mirror and dealing with my own defects and resulting problems.
I’ve learned many healthy life skills in my program of recovery, and I would pass them on whenever I could. As Forest Gump’s mom would say: “Life is a box of chocolates; you never know what you’re gonna get.” That’s true of course. But the secret of being happy is making the best of what you get, no matter what that may be.
A Sense Of Abundance
Memoir Excerpt
“Angie stayed in this rehabilitation facility through Thanksgiving. She had a permanent catheter, called a picc line, in her arm that they pumped antibiotics into two times a day. She had been very, very sick, and this was standard procedure to flush her body clear of the infection in her groin. Xavier and I brought her a turkey dinner with all the trimmings, and we gave thanks that she was still walking among us. Silently we prayed to the Lord God Almighty that this second near-death experience would be the end of all our trials and that she would be ready and able to embrace life now.
But I no longer gave God lists of what I wanted. That’s not how faith works. I was not in charge—He was. I had spent too many years hopping on and off this freight train to hell, and I wanted, I deserved, some peace in my life. Only by turning my willful, arrogant self over to Him would I be able to achieve the serenity, now and again, that they talk about in the Program.
And so, several years ago, I started keeping a daily gratitude journal. At its worst, it’s a distraction from the pain of losing someone you love. At its best, it’s a transformative tool. Every day when I wake up I write down something to be thankful for: from the gift of my grandchildren, to my favorite rosebush, now in full flower. And as the list grows, so, too, does my sense of abundance.
It’s all so true: my attitude about my life is everything. And I was seeing on this journey of mine that I had a clear and irrefutable choice about how to live what was left of my life. I didn’t want to be miserable anymore. It was my decision when I brought Angie home from that rehab facility to be happy. And I still feel that way. It all depends on how I choose to see things. And I choose to raise my spirits with a daily remembrance of all the good things in my life.”
“When I Got Busy, I Got Better”
From “The Forum,” August 2015, p. 15:
“Going to meetings helped me understand the first step, which I consider the cornerstone of the program. I cannot repay Al-Anon enough for what it has done for me. One thing I did from the very beginning was to serve the fellowship. Service strengthened my recovery and gave me a chance to pay forward what I’ve received.
My loved one has been in and out of sobriety for the more than 25 years since I joined the program, and whether my loved one was sober or not, I never gave up, slackened my attendance, or service to Al-Anon. Today I can accept that my life is important and that I have a choice to continue obsessing or get on with my life. I accept that alcoholism is a disease and Al-Anon helps me to face the disease and not let it get me down. I feel alive because of Al-Anon. Working the Twelve Steps led me to a spiritual life that gives me much peace and joy.”
Lifelines are all around to help us cope with life’s challenges. Exercise, good nutrition, gardening—the list is endless. Fortunately there are many outlets to choose from, and I’ve used all of the above. But the tools—life lessons—that I’ve learned in several 12-Step fellowships have changed me as well as the way that I relate to other people. I’ve heard it said that alcoholism is a disease of relationships, and whether that’s true or not I can certainly see the improvement in how I behave with others. That, in turn, has made me a happier person. So this has been my lifeline, because working the program has made such a big difference in my life.