I made it. Thirty days without pills. Wow.
I am feeling so much better. Who knew? :)
Now I think it's time to start on some service work. People have been so great about supporting me and my family in this time that we've needed them. Now that I'm starting to feel my legs underneath me, I think it's time to start giving back. The NA Basic Text and Just For Today both highlight service work to be a wide range of activities- anything from helping around the house, to helping a friend, to jobs in the community. Without going to fast, I feel like I'm ready to start on all three. I've been able to handle more chores around the house, from dishes and laundry to caring for the kids on my own without help. Yesterday a friend of mine was in a bind and needed a sitter for her little ones, and even though I wasn't sure how I would take care of five kids at once, I jumped in and said yes- not out of guilt, but because I truly wanted to help her like she had helped me, and I really felt I could. And the day went great! I was so proud of myself (and it doesn't hurt that her kids are fantastic). I've also started sending out resumes... I really think I'm ready to get back into the working world. I'd like to do something in the nonprofit sector, something where I can work with people that really need help. Of course, my family really needs me to go to work- we need the second income again- but I really think I'm ready, and that's a great feeling. My pain is well controlled, I'm not so worried about not being able to go to work because of it.
Part of me waiting for the other shoe to drop. I'm worried that something will happen to send me spiralling back. I have a good home support system, but I don't have a great NA support system, the kind with contacts and a sponsor yet. I'm still trying to get one. But I'm feeling better, and that's huge for my thirty day mark. I'm hopeful that this new year will be a good one for me and my family.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Cravings
Today was a hard day.
First of all, let me share that I made it through the day without using, which brings me to two weeks of clean time (insert encouraging shout of praise here). But today was by far one of the hardest days I've had since I quit taking the pills. I kept having cravings- not so much my body, but my mind was telling me I needed some pills.
At first, when I examined how I felt and realized I wasn't in a lot of extra pain, I wasn't sure what to do. I was confused. Why did I feel such an urgent need for pills if there was no more pain in my body than usual? So I thought about how I felt, which just confused me more until I went to the meeting tonight. Now that I've been to a meeting, shared how I felt, and the day is almost over- I feel so much better.
The way that I was feeling- the one that just confused me more- it was boredom. I felt bored. And I just didn't understand that until I went to the meeting tonight and someone shared his point of view with me. He said for however long you were using, you were chasing a high and now you have to learn to live without that. There's a hole there, the same hole that was likely there before you started using in the first place, and it's going to take some real work to get to the root of it and close it up.
Truer words never spoken.
But at first I balked. I mean, yeah, "bored" was the first feeling I came up with too, but how could I be bored? I have three children home with me all or at least most of the time, and a fourth we're trying to parent long-distance. My day is full of diaper changes, Thomas the Tank Engine, PBS kids, and sippy cups. How did I have time to be bored? But after that person shared about chasing the high and filling a hole, it all made sense.
Now I just have to figure out what I'm going to do about it.
First of all, let me share that I made it through the day without using, which brings me to two weeks of clean time (insert encouraging shout of praise here). But today was by far one of the hardest days I've had since I quit taking the pills. I kept having cravings- not so much my body, but my mind was telling me I needed some pills.
At first, when I examined how I felt and realized I wasn't in a lot of extra pain, I wasn't sure what to do. I was confused. Why did I feel such an urgent need for pills if there was no more pain in my body than usual? So I thought about how I felt, which just confused me more until I went to the meeting tonight. Now that I've been to a meeting, shared how I felt, and the day is almost over- I feel so much better.
The way that I was feeling- the one that just confused me more- it was boredom. I felt bored. And I just didn't understand that until I went to the meeting tonight and someone shared his point of view with me. He said for however long you were using, you were chasing a high and now you have to learn to live without that. There's a hole there, the same hole that was likely there before you started using in the first place, and it's going to take some real work to get to the root of it and close it up.
Truer words never spoken.
But at first I balked. I mean, yeah, "bored" was the first feeling I came up with too, but how could I be bored? I have three children home with me all or at least most of the time, and a fourth we're trying to parent long-distance. My day is full of diaper changes, Thomas the Tank Engine, PBS kids, and sippy cups. How did I have time to be bored? But after that person shared about chasing the high and filling a hole, it all made sense.
Now I just have to figure out what I'm going to do about it.
Tip-toe Through the Twelve Steps
I'm reading the Basic Text and just finished the chapter about the Twelve Steps. In my humble opinion, there should be some sort of disclaimer at the beginning, like, "Could cause alarm" or "Be prepared to change your pants at multiple times." Or, at the very least, "You really CAN do this, other people have so it's reasonable to think you will too." It's so overwhelming when you read it all at once!
But I did read it and I started out on Step One. And I'm still on Step One.
I could be here for quite awhile.
Step One says, "We admitted that we were powerless over our addiction, that our lives had become unmanageable." The idea of admitting that I am powerless against something- I just can't do it (Am I powerless to admit that I am powerless? Hmm, something to think about...). In my heart, I know I can't control my use of certain pills, I could for awhile, but ultimately I just couldn't. It's the "I could for awhile" that keeps tripping me up. Also, using is a double-edged sword. I'm miserable when I use and miserable when I'm not. Granted, the miserable factor is decreasing (for the most part) now that it's been awhile since I've used. Some days the cravings are worse than ever, almost intolerable, and I just don't know what to do about them.
Gotta keep thinking about it.
But I did read it and I started out on Step One. And I'm still on Step One.
I could be here for quite awhile.
Step One says, "We admitted that we were powerless over our addiction, that our lives had become unmanageable." The idea of admitting that I am powerless against something- I just can't do it (Am I powerless to admit that I am powerless? Hmm, something to think about...). In my heart, I know I can't control my use of certain pills, I could for awhile, but ultimately I just couldn't. It's the "I could for awhile" that keeps tripping me up. Also, using is a double-edged sword. I'm miserable when I use and miserable when I'm not. Granted, the miserable factor is decreasing (for the most part) now that it's been awhile since I've used. Some days the cravings are worse than ever, almost intolerable, and I just don't know what to do about them.
Gotta keep thinking about it.
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Health Teacher and Pill-Popper?
This is going to come up eventually, so I might as well face it head on.
In what feels like a whole other lifetime ago, I was a middle school health teacher. I had colleagues, a principal, conferences to attend, lunch duty and most importantly- students.
Oh, how I loved those kids.
To be honest, they drove me crazy on a regular basis, but I loved that too (and let's face it- as a great person once said, crazy for me is not so much a drive as it is a short putt). Most teachers might tell you that the thing they teach for is to see that "a ha" moment- the look that comes over a kid's face when he realizes he's finally understood something. Those moments were great, of course, but what I lived for was the banter with the kids. The steady hum of conversation that middle schoolers are so famous for- that's what I loved to hear, and when I was privileged to be included in it, even better.
And even if it does sound a little like bragging, I don't mind saying that I was a pretty good teacher. Honest as much as I felt they could understand at their age, funny when I could be (which was usually most of the time), creative in my assignments and assessments and welcoming of criticism from my colleagues and (gulp) principal. I was even a nationally certified health education specialist. I had some alphabet soup after my name and everything.
So how the heck did I go from all of that to what I am now- a recovering addict and alcoholic? I can think of a few poignant life events that certainly contributed to the milieu, births and deaths and such but really- it was just me. My personality, my way of dealing with life (or lack of a way of dealing with life) when the stress got to be overwhelming, not using the coping skills that I had ironically taught for so many years. It was just me.
And now I have to give myself- and make myself take- more advice that I used to freely give to the kids. Get over it and move on. It's going to take awhile to do, but every day that goes past, I feel a little stronger, a little more resourceful, a little more sure that I can do it. I am deeply grateful for the people out there who continue to pray for me and send me encouraging messages. Some days it's exactly what I need to keep going. Thanks.
In what feels like a whole other lifetime ago, I was a middle school health teacher. I had colleagues, a principal, conferences to attend, lunch duty and most importantly- students.
Oh, how I loved those kids.
To be honest, they drove me crazy on a regular basis, but I loved that too (and let's face it- as a great person once said, crazy for me is not so much a drive as it is a short putt). Most teachers might tell you that the thing they teach for is to see that "a ha" moment- the look that comes over a kid's face when he realizes he's finally understood something. Those moments were great, of course, but what I lived for was the banter with the kids. The steady hum of conversation that middle schoolers are so famous for- that's what I loved to hear, and when I was privileged to be included in it, even better.
And even if it does sound a little like bragging, I don't mind saying that I was a pretty good teacher. Honest as much as I felt they could understand at their age, funny when I could be (which was usually most of the time), creative in my assignments and assessments and welcoming of criticism from my colleagues and (gulp) principal. I was even a nationally certified health education specialist. I had some alphabet soup after my name and everything.
So how the heck did I go from all of that to what I am now- a recovering addict and alcoholic? I can think of a few poignant life events that certainly contributed to the milieu, births and deaths and such but really- it was just me. My personality, my way of dealing with life (or lack of a way of dealing with life) when the stress got to be overwhelming, not using the coping skills that I had ironically taught for so many years. It was just me.
And now I have to give myself- and make myself take- more advice that I used to freely give to the kids. Get over it and move on. It's going to take awhile to do, but every day that goes past, I feel a little stronger, a little more resourceful, a little more sure that I can do it. I am deeply grateful for the people out there who continue to pray for me and send me encouraging messages. Some days it's exactly what I need to keep going. Thanks.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Just For Today Nov. 30th reflection
From the NA Just For Today Text, my reflection following
November 30 - Sharing The Real Me
"Sharing with others keeps us from feeling isolated and alone." Basic Text pg. 81
Intimacy is the sharing of our innermost thoughts and feelings with another human being. Many of us long for the warmth and companionship intimacy brings, but those things don't come without effort. In our addiction, we learned to guard ourselves from others lest they threaten our using. In recovery, we learn how to trust others. Intimacy requires us to lower our defenses. To feel the closeness intimacy brings, we must allow others to get close to us - the real us.If we are to share our innermost selves with others, we must first have an idea of what those innermost selves are truly like. We regularly examine our lives to find out who we really are, what we really want, and how we really feel. Then, based on our regular inventories of ourselves, we must be as completely and consistently honest with our friends as we can be.Intimacy is a part of life, and therefore a part of living clean - and intimacy, like everything in recovery, has its price. The painstaking self-scrutiny intimacy calls for can be hard work. And the total honesty of intimacy often brings its own complications. But the freedom from isolation and loneliness that intimacy brings is well worth the effort.
Just for today: I seek the freedom from isolation and loneliness that intimacy brings. Today, I will get to know "the real me" by taking a personal inventory, and I will practice being completely honest with another person.
pg. 348
Being totally honest with others is a new concept for me, which is why I decided to challenge myself by being totally open in my writings online. I think it's helped me to become a healthier person, mentally and spiritually. I certainly feel better over the past few days, I've noticed. And even though I'm only on Step One, "working the steps" really helps. Getting to know "the real me" is a little scary, but it's a more hopeful and encouraging process than I anticipated.
November 30 - Sharing The Real Me
"Sharing with others keeps us from feeling isolated and alone." Basic Text pg. 81
Intimacy is the sharing of our innermost thoughts and feelings with another human being. Many of us long for the warmth and companionship intimacy brings, but those things don't come without effort. In our addiction, we learned to guard ourselves from others lest they threaten our using. In recovery, we learn how to trust others. Intimacy requires us to lower our defenses. To feel the closeness intimacy brings, we must allow others to get close to us - the real us.If we are to share our innermost selves with others, we must first have an idea of what those innermost selves are truly like. We regularly examine our lives to find out who we really are, what we really want, and how we really feel. Then, based on our regular inventories of ourselves, we must be as completely and consistently honest with our friends as we can be.Intimacy is a part of life, and therefore a part of living clean - and intimacy, like everything in recovery, has its price. The painstaking self-scrutiny intimacy calls for can be hard work. And the total honesty of intimacy often brings its own complications. But the freedom from isolation and loneliness that intimacy brings is well worth the effort.
Just for today: I seek the freedom from isolation and loneliness that intimacy brings. Today, I will get to know "the real me" by taking a personal inventory, and I will practice being completely honest with another person.
pg. 348
Being totally honest with others is a new concept for me, which is why I decided to challenge myself by being totally open in my writings online. I think it's helped me to become a healthier person, mentally and spiritually. I certainly feel better over the past few days, I've noticed. And even though I'm only on Step One, "working the steps" really helps. Getting to know "the real me" is a little scary, but it's a more hopeful and encouraging process than I anticipated.
Friday, November 18, 2011
Beginning of the End
Yesterday I blogged about my thwarted suicide attempt. You can read about it here. Today I thought I'd talk about something else- my dependence and addiction to the prescription drugs I've been taking for the myriad of ailments I have.
And again, I'm not looking for sympathy or pity- I just wanted to start sharing my experiences in hopes that someone who's having a similar tough time can relate and feel a little less alone knowing there's someone else out there that's gone through the same thing.
I expected recovery would be difficult and so far everything is meeting my expectations. I've been using prescription painkillers for awhile (the right way), but after I was in the hospital and things started to get worse again, I started to use them the wrong way.
What can I say? There's so much talk about using these kinds of pills the "right way" that it's almost impossible to NOT think about the "wrong way" when you're pushed up against a wall (mentally or physically) and things aren't going well for you. Before this, I had done well- I knew there were times were my body hurt like hell, and I overused my medication. I was paid back with feeling so lethargic and stupified that I could barely function and I fell asleep at the drop of a hat- certainly not safe for anyone, most of all my children. But abusing it to take the mental pain away- that was a recent thing.
It started around the time I was in the hospital in November. I was thinking about trying to kill myself again. I didn't have a plan yet, but as I remarked to the intake doctor, "I'm pretty resourceful, so it wouldn't take much to come up with one." When I got out, I still felt not great, and even though my family was monitoring my meds, I still found ways around it to get more pills. It didn't take long for me to admit to myself that I just had to be off of the pills for good, and during one blowout with my husband, I flushed them. I cannot explain the duality of the feelings I had at that time. I was happy, extremely happy, on one side to be getting rid of them, on the other, a huge voice in my head was screaming at me, "What the FUCK are you doing???? That's GOOD SHIT, man!"
Since then (and it wasn't that long ago- less than a week) I've been in withdrawal, which is no fun but I feel like I can see a light at the end of the tunnel. Maybe someday a life that's happy, pain-free or at least less, and unmedicated. We'll see. Stay tuned.
And again, I'm not looking for sympathy or pity- I just wanted to start sharing my experiences in hopes that someone who's having a similar tough time can relate and feel a little less alone knowing there's someone else out there that's gone through the same thing.
I expected recovery would be difficult and so far everything is meeting my expectations. I've been using prescription painkillers for awhile (the right way), but after I was in the hospital and things started to get worse again, I started to use them the wrong way.
What can I say? There's so much talk about using these kinds of pills the "right way" that it's almost impossible to NOT think about the "wrong way" when you're pushed up against a wall (mentally or physically) and things aren't going well for you. Before this, I had done well- I knew there were times were my body hurt like hell, and I overused my medication. I was paid back with feeling so lethargic and stupified that I could barely function and I fell asleep at the drop of a hat- certainly not safe for anyone, most of all my children. But abusing it to take the mental pain away- that was a recent thing.
It started around the time I was in the hospital in November. I was thinking about trying to kill myself again. I didn't have a plan yet, but as I remarked to the intake doctor, "I'm pretty resourceful, so it wouldn't take much to come up with one." When I got out, I still felt not great, and even though my family was monitoring my meds, I still found ways around it to get more pills. It didn't take long for me to admit to myself that I just had to be off of the pills for good, and during one blowout with my husband, I flushed them. I cannot explain the duality of the feelings I had at that time. I was happy, extremely happy, on one side to be getting rid of them, on the other, a huge voice in my head was screaming at me, "What the FUCK are you doing???? That's GOOD SHIT, man!"
Since then (and it wasn't that long ago- less than a week) I've been in withdrawal, which is no fun but I feel like I can see a light at the end of the tunnel. Maybe someday a life that's happy, pain-free or at least less, and unmedicated. We'll see. Stay tuned.
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