I was a slave to alcohol. Alcohol ran my life. It told me what I would do, and when I would do it. It told me how I would treat my husband and my kids. It was my master. I was its slave.
I tried desperately on a few occasions to run away from the alcohol, but it always found me. I would break the bottles of vodka and pour the cans of beer down the drain, but it would always show up again.
I lost my control over alcohol and my power of choice. I could no longer choose when I would drink and how much I would consume once I got started. Alcohol had a hold on me, a very tight hold.
If I could go to the grocery store and get out without buying alcohol, it was a miracle. I would walk in the door and begin the conversation with myself; "I can buy just one beer." "No! You don't need a beer." "Only one. One won't hurt." "No! You won't have just one, and you know it."
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The conversation went on until I left the store. Some days I would win. Other days, the alcohol was victorious. This was a daily battle. Until one day, God had mercy on me and removed the obsession to drink. Alcohol lost its control over me and the victory was mine. Today, I am a slave set free. I still have a master. His name is Jesus.
For the longest time after I got sober there were certain stores I could not go into. Stores where I frequently purchased alcohol became slippery places for me to go. Stores where I battled against the desire to drink carried far to many bad memories. It was best just to stay out of those places.
Today I don't have that problem. I can go anywhere and not be tempted. But it took awhile. In the beggining of your sobriety do yourself a favor and listen to yourself. You will know what to do.
Since I got sober it is extremely difficult for me to watch a loved one struggle with an addiction. Knowing what I went through and how hard it was for me to quit makes it that much harder for me to watch.
I know what it is like to be driven by addictive forces. I know how it feels to want to quit and then barely make it through the evening before giving in again. The same struggle goes on with food, drugs, pornography and pills. Any addiction has a driving force behind it. That is what makes it an addiction.
I am a people fixer. I want my loved ones set free...now! And yet I know there is nothing I can do about it. So I pray. I know God brings healing and deliverance. But I know is not always as easy as it seems. Getting sober can be hard. God wants to see those demons conquered. He wants my loved ones victorious over drugs and alcohol. But where do they begin?
The first step is willingness. If they are willing God will help them. If I treat my loved ones with kindness, compassion and prayer, I am doing the best I can. The rest has to be up to them.
What I want is to take them to a rehab or get them involved in a recovery program. I want them to experience the sanity I found in recovery with God. I want them set free to enjoy life or to be reasonably capable of making changes if they need to.
God, see their need. Hold them tight and let them know that you are with them ready and willing to help. And then God, please help me to step back and get out of your way.
God never gives up on you. God says He will love you and help you no matter what. So when you think you have failed one to many times for God to help you, think again. I must have tried 50+ times to quit drinking. God was there to help me with each failed attempt. He never gave up on me and He will never give up on you.
Friday, March 28, 2008
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Alcohol: When Enough is Enough
God knew what I needed before I was ever created. Although He had better ideas of what he wanted for me, He knew I would fall and need His help. So He inspired the men of old to prepare a book called the Bible, showing me the provision of God, and His ability to deliver me from all my troubles.
Unfortunately I chose a different path. One in which I thought I'd have more fun. I allowed the lies and deceptions of the enemy and the world to crowd out what was right. And I suffered the consequences of my mistakes.
Going to parties and getting drunk was common for me. In high school I developed the nickname sleazy. Not because I was being taken advantage of, but because passing out all over people's houses and hanging on guys I didn't know set up a rather poor picture of me. The image they saw of me was exactly what I portrayed, a sleaze. I had to learn to accept that, or make changes.
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When I decided to quit going to parties, everyone was disappointed. They didn't have anybody to talk about anymore. As much as I enjoyed drinking, I was tired of getting drunk and being labeled. I wasn't what they said of me and it disturbed me that they would all stoop so low. Didn't they know, they to were at the same parties? What did that say about them?
Today it doesn't matter because today I don't drink. Sobriety means I never have to do anything that I wouldn't normally do. Those drunken behaviors are no longer who I am. If you want to put a label on me today; how about a recovered alcoholic, a blessed and loved child of God, and a victorious over comer.
God doesn't ask us to do something unless He feels we are capable of doing it. He isn't a mean spirited dictator. He is a loving God who cares about you more than you will ever know. It wasn't that God didn't want me having any fun, He just didn't want me to be the object of other people's ridicule and scorn. He thought higher of me than that.
And it wasn't that He wanted me bored and lonely. He just had better plans and people for me. So after I gave up the parties and the labels I discovered God was telling the truth. It has been nothing short of remarkable.
After my second divorce I invited a friend of mine to move into my apartment with me. She was married to a drug addict and grew increasingly tired of the craziness he brought into her life. She was a recovering alcoholic who had discovered Jesus. She was trying to make positive changes and his drug use was hindering her growth.
On her birthday I really wanted to make her feel special so I took her to my favorite dance club. Since the two of us had alcohol related problems, I don't quite know what I was thinking. Didn't I have a favorite restaurant? What was wrong with a nice dinner?
Within 15 minutes of walking into that night club I was passed out on the back couch and her birthday was ruined. It only took me three drinks to fall into a blackout, and into an evening I will never remember.
My friend asked some guys to drive us home in my car because she couldn't drive and I wasn't able to. So two men we didn't know drove us home to my house, came in and hung out for quite awhile. I don't remember any of it.
My intention was to celebrate my friend's birthday. But the alcohol turned the night into a celebration of immorality and shame. Alcohol ruins our best intentions. Alcohol perverts everything good. Alcohol is the enemy and is best left alone.
I wonder if God was pounding me on the shoulder that night trying to get my attention before I made my plans. He knew the outcome of the evening before it ever happened so I am sure if I was listening I might have heard Him telling me to do something else.
But I was so excited about going drinking and dancing if God was speaking to me, I wasn't listening. In fact, I probably had that speaker dial turned all the way down. I wanted no interference. You see it's not God's fault when we end up in bad situations. It is ours because we don't heed His warning.
God tells us things but we don't hear because we are to busy doing everything our way. I am not completely sad that the night ended the way it did. I don't think I ever went back to that night club. So if the outcome was good, I won't completely discount the night. But wouldn't it have been better to just not have gone again in the first place? And the saga continues.
It's hard for an alcoholic to admit when enough is enough. We know, we just don't want to admit it.
Unfortunately I chose a different path. One in which I thought I'd have more fun. I allowed the lies and deceptions of the enemy and the world to crowd out what was right. And I suffered the consequences of my mistakes.
Going to parties and getting drunk was common for me. In high school I developed the nickname sleazy. Not because I was being taken advantage of, but because passing out all over people's houses and hanging on guys I didn't know set up a rather poor picture of me. The image they saw of me was exactly what I portrayed, a sleaze. I had to learn to accept that, or make changes.
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When I decided to quit going to parties, everyone was disappointed. They didn't have anybody to talk about anymore. As much as I enjoyed drinking, I was tired of getting drunk and being labeled. I wasn't what they said of me and it disturbed me that they would all stoop so low. Didn't they know, they to were at the same parties? What did that say about them?
Today it doesn't matter because today I don't drink. Sobriety means I never have to do anything that I wouldn't normally do. Those drunken behaviors are no longer who I am. If you want to put a label on me today; how about a recovered alcoholic, a blessed and loved child of God, and a victorious over comer.
God doesn't ask us to do something unless He feels we are capable of doing it. He isn't a mean spirited dictator. He is a loving God who cares about you more than you will ever know. It wasn't that God didn't want me having any fun, He just didn't want me to be the object of other people's ridicule and scorn. He thought higher of me than that.
And it wasn't that He wanted me bored and lonely. He just had better plans and people for me. So after I gave up the parties and the labels I discovered God was telling the truth. It has been nothing short of remarkable.
After my second divorce I invited a friend of mine to move into my apartment with me. She was married to a drug addict and grew increasingly tired of the craziness he brought into her life. She was a recovering alcoholic who had discovered Jesus. She was trying to make positive changes and his drug use was hindering her growth.
On her birthday I really wanted to make her feel special so I took her to my favorite dance club. Since the two of us had alcohol related problems, I don't quite know what I was thinking. Didn't I have a favorite restaurant? What was wrong with a nice dinner?
Within 15 minutes of walking into that night club I was passed out on the back couch and her birthday was ruined. It only took me three drinks to fall into a blackout, and into an evening I will never remember.
My friend asked some guys to drive us home in my car because she couldn't drive and I wasn't able to. So two men we didn't know drove us home to my house, came in and hung out for quite awhile. I don't remember any of it.
My intention was to celebrate my friend's birthday. But the alcohol turned the night into a celebration of immorality and shame. Alcohol ruins our best intentions. Alcohol perverts everything good. Alcohol is the enemy and is best left alone.
I wonder if God was pounding me on the shoulder that night trying to get my attention before I made my plans. He knew the outcome of the evening before it ever happened so I am sure if I was listening I might have heard Him telling me to do something else.
But I was so excited about going drinking and dancing if God was speaking to me, I wasn't listening. In fact, I probably had that speaker dial turned all the way down. I wanted no interference. You see it's not God's fault when we end up in bad situations. It is ours because we don't heed His warning.
God tells us things but we don't hear because we are to busy doing everything our way. I am not completely sad that the night ended the way it did. I don't think I ever went back to that night club. So if the outcome was good, I won't completely discount the night. But wouldn't it have been better to just not have gone again in the first place? And the saga continues.
It's hard for an alcoholic to admit when enough is enough. We know, we just don't want to admit it.
Car Reviews: BMW 3 Series
Made for quality, safety, comfort and class, the BMW 3 Series takes first place among all competition. With four and five out of five stars in performance, safety, reliability, and looks, should you be driving anything else?
0 to 60 in 6.3 seconds with a manual transmission puts the BMW 3 Series at the top of its game. Buyers willing to pay a little more, seats them in the finest luxury midsize car on the road. Compared to the Infiniti G37, BMW 3 series excels. BMW's most prestigious work of art is available as a coupe, sedan or hardtop convertible.
328i and 328 xi models with 200 pound-feet of torque and a 3.0-liter inline-six cylinder engine puts out 230 horsepower. With an automatic transmission along with a six-cylinder engine and the new lightweight magnesium/aluminum composite alloy engine block, the BMW 3 Series gets 19 mpg city and 28 mpg highway. Better yet, the 335i and 335xi models, with 300 horsepower, 300 pound-feet of torque go from 0 to 60 in 5.4 seconds trailing behind the Ferrari F430 by only two-tenths. MPG for city is 17 and 26 mpg for highway.
Both models come with four-wheel ventilated anti-lock disc brakes with Dynamic Brake Control. A new feature of BMW is the automatic drying of the brakes in wet weather, wet brake rotors don't stop as quick. Another great feature; when a foot is removed from the gas pedal the car automatically positions the discs a little closer to the pads preparing to stop.
Trunk space was increased by providing run-flat tires on the BMW 3 Series with no spare tire. Although most reviewers were satisfied with the standard suspension, sport tuned suspension is built in to the Coupe and Convertible editions. The upgraded suspension is optional for the Sedan.
Interior standard features include dual-zone automatic climate control, real walnut wood trim and standard leatherette. Premium package options include leather upholstery, auto dimming mirrors, Bluetooth connectivity, and eight way power seats with two driver memory settings.
Safety is rated high for BMW 3 Series models. Performing well in government crash tests this car has been deemed extremely safe. Using high strength steel, automatic seatbelt pretension, air bags inflated at three different speeds, and automatic locking retractors protect passengers in the event of a crash.
For those impatient BMW lovers get in line for 2009. Just when you thought all was invented, with a revised front and rear bumper, more sculpted hood and changed headlights, the BMW 3 Series comes out with enhanced performance and an entirely new sportier look.
0 to 60 in 6.3 seconds with a manual transmission puts the BMW 3 Series at the top of its game. Buyers willing to pay a little more, seats them in the finest luxury midsize car on the road. Compared to the Infiniti G37, BMW 3 series excels. BMW's most prestigious work of art is available as a coupe, sedan or hardtop convertible.
328i and 328 xi models with 200 pound-feet of torque and a 3.0-liter inline-six cylinder engine puts out 230 horsepower. With an automatic transmission along with a six-cylinder engine and the new lightweight magnesium/aluminum composite alloy engine block, the BMW 3 Series gets 19 mpg city and 28 mpg highway. Better yet, the 335i and 335xi models, with 300 horsepower, 300 pound-feet of torque go from 0 to 60 in 5.4 seconds trailing behind the Ferrari F430 by only two-tenths. MPG for city is 17 and 26 mpg for highway.
Both models come with four-wheel ventilated anti-lock disc brakes with Dynamic Brake Control. A new feature of BMW is the automatic drying of the brakes in wet weather, wet brake rotors don't stop as quick. Another great feature; when a foot is removed from the gas pedal the car automatically positions the discs a little closer to the pads preparing to stop.
Trunk space was increased by providing run-flat tires on the BMW 3 Series with no spare tire. Although most reviewers were satisfied with the standard suspension, sport tuned suspension is built in to the Coupe and Convertible editions. The upgraded suspension is optional for the Sedan.
Interior standard features include dual-zone automatic climate control, real walnut wood trim and standard leatherette. Premium package options include leather upholstery, auto dimming mirrors, Bluetooth connectivity, and eight way power seats with two driver memory settings.
Safety is rated high for BMW 3 Series models. Performing well in government crash tests this car has been deemed extremely safe. Using high strength steel, automatic seatbelt pretension, air bags inflated at three different speeds, and automatic locking retractors protect passengers in the event of a crash.
For those impatient BMW lovers get in line for 2009. Just when you thought all was invented, with a revised front and rear bumper, more sculpted hood and changed headlights, the BMW 3 Series comes out with enhanced performance and an entirely new sportier look.
Friday, March 14, 2008
Romeo Club: Retired Old Men Eating Out
On any given Friday morning at the Millie’s restaurant in Simi Valley you will find anywhere from eight to fifteen retired older men sitting around a table together having breakfast. The Romeo club is a club for older gentlemen who are retired. The name Romeo stands for ‘Retired Old Men Eating Out.’ The club offers retired gentlemen a place to gather or hang out once a week. The club is for men of similar age and similar circumstances yet sometimes very different interests.
A common complaint of men after retirement is the loss of socialization or other men to talk to. Men who retire are not used to hanging around the house talking to their wives. Although they admit spending time with their wives is not a bad way to spend their time, by retirement age their wives are already set in their ways and don’t have the time to sit around talking about sports and politics. Most men find this lifestyle of solitude to be anything but desirable so the Romeo club offers these men a safe place to go where good conversation, good food and good camaraderie unite them together.
Eighty year old Huey Long, a crossing guard for the Simi Valley school district states, “We all get together and solve all the problems of the world in one hour.” Due to the diversity of professions within the group Huey finds the subject matter of the conversations not only new and interesting but enlightening as well. He states, “About six of our members are retired school teachers. Each one is quite knowledgeable in his own field of study. I find it very interesting to listen to them speak of the subjects they know so well. It is a time of learning for me.”
Ed Aposhian says his time spent with the Romeo club fills a void he never knew existed. Having very few close friends Ed finds access to a new group of friends quite rewarding. His interest in people and the different viewpoints of others keeps him going back. He states, “I like the freedom I have in expressing my views and although they might not always be accepted by everyone they are never put down or criticized.”
The Romeo club is a relationship building opportunity. The spin off of a breakfast meeting offers not only a place for retired men to meet but an opportunity for friendships to develop. Some members put aside other times during the week for coffee or a matinee. With so much time on their hands, extracurricular events are extremely important. One group of men went to an air show. Another small group took a week long road trip up north; the skies the limit. This club offers valuable and necessary time for men to gather and talk about men things.
For those men who aren’t quite retirement age, the Romeo club offers ‘Retired Men In Training.’ Bottom line, all are welcome. Most of the men who participate in the Romeo club are well past the age of 70 but with some men in their 60’s and others in their 80’s there’s a little bit of something for everyone. And if you are ever in the neighborhood on a Friday morning stop in and say hello. Knowing this group of men they’ll probably invite you to sit down and have breakfast with them. You’ll be glad you did.
A common complaint of men after retirement is the loss of socialization or other men to talk to. Men who retire are not used to hanging around the house talking to their wives. Although they admit spending time with their wives is not a bad way to spend their time, by retirement age their wives are already set in their ways and don’t have the time to sit around talking about sports and politics. Most men find this lifestyle of solitude to be anything but desirable so the Romeo club offers these men a safe place to go where good conversation, good food and good camaraderie unite them together.
Eighty year old Huey Long, a crossing guard for the Simi Valley school district states, “We all get together and solve all the problems of the world in one hour.” Due to the diversity of professions within the group Huey finds the subject matter of the conversations not only new and interesting but enlightening as well. He states, “About six of our members are retired school teachers. Each one is quite knowledgeable in his own field of study. I find it very interesting to listen to them speak of the subjects they know so well. It is a time of learning for me.”
Ed Aposhian says his time spent with the Romeo club fills a void he never knew existed. Having very few close friends Ed finds access to a new group of friends quite rewarding. His interest in people and the different viewpoints of others keeps him going back. He states, “I like the freedom I have in expressing my views and although they might not always be accepted by everyone they are never put down or criticized.”
The Romeo club is a relationship building opportunity. The spin off of a breakfast meeting offers not only a place for retired men to meet but an opportunity for friendships to develop. Some members put aside other times during the week for coffee or a matinee. With so much time on their hands, extracurricular events are extremely important. One group of men went to an air show. Another small group took a week long road trip up north; the skies the limit. This club offers valuable and necessary time for men to gather and talk about men things.
For those men who aren’t quite retirement age, the Romeo club offers ‘Retired Men In Training.’ Bottom line, all are welcome. Most of the men who participate in the Romeo club are well past the age of 70 but with some men in their 60’s and others in their 80’s there’s a little bit of something for everyone. And if you are ever in the neighborhood on a Friday morning stop in and say hello. Knowing this group of men they’ll probably invite you to sit down and have breakfast with them. You’ll be glad you did.
College Campus Revelation
Nothing happens by chance; not in God’s world. I enrolled in college after twenty five years. I heard that dental hygienists made an outrageous amount of money so I signed up for classes at my local college and off I went to embark on a new journey. For four years I sold on eBay tucked back in the corner of my den. Now it was time to mingle with the real world. Everything was progressing in the right direction. School proved to be a lot more enjoyable than I remembered. I was getting A’s in all my classes and I found myself looking forward to the education. But something happened when I entered my chemistry class. The subject was too difficult and after the first month I dropped out. I had no idea what I was going to do. Dental Hygiene required chemistry classes. Anatomy, physiology, and microbiology were also on that list so I had to change my plans and quickly. I found a psychology class with a late start date so I added that class to my schedule and turned myself around. I hadn’t any idea as to what I would do with a psychology degree but at least the subject interested me. It’s amazing how God works. I didn’t start out with a great desire to know about people but as soon as I started learning about the human mind my fascination of the subject grew to an astounding level. Forty three years old and I finally found my niche. It was during this time that I began having more pronounced problems with my eldest son. He drank a lot and was constantly getting into trouble. I had fought the battle of alcohol myself and won so I always held out hope for my son’s deliverance but lately he seemed a lot more suicidal and my heart ached constantly for him. I had a psychology class starting in a few days. I received the textbook early so I thought I’d get a head start on the reading. The class was on human learning and the chapter in the textbook began by describing a member of the author’s family who had a broken brain. The more I read the more of my son’s behavior I saw in her loved one. She was describing bipolar disorder. All of a sudden everything fell in place and began making sense. My son had a disease. There was a name for what was wrong with him and that meant there was also a solution. I thank God everyday that chemistry was too difficult. If I had understood it I might not have learned what is wrong with my son.
Reflections: Tales of a smoker.
While I was celebrating my sixth year without a cigarette I found myself thinking about the time many years ago when I experienced my first puff. I was thirteen in eighth grade. I remember sneaking up on the family ashtray when no one was home and taking the longest cigarette butts in the tray because they allowed me more puffs than the short ones. Of course most of them were too short to smoke but occasionally I would find a long one. I remember taking those crumpled cigarette leftovers and straightening them out as best I could. My fingers would be all black from the ash and the butt would taste like the ashtray itself but that never stopped me. I was a determined teenager. Adults were smoking these nasty things so why shouldn’t I. I am still confused at what the real attraction was. I would light the end of that horribly disgusting cigarette and as soon as I took a puff I would become violently ill. But that never stopped me. I always went back for more. I would sneak around the corner of the house in the backyard where no one could see me and I’d smoke those crumpled up cigarette butts until I was sick.
My friend Winette was a little braver than myself. She would steal whole cigarettes from her mother’s purse. She would say, “Come on Lacy, I have some cigarettes,” and off we’d go to the local elementary school. Climbing up on the classroom roof we’d light those cigarettes. Boy did we feel cool. I hate to admit I had fallen into the trap of appearances but I wanted every other kid in the neighborhood to see me sitting up on that school roof puffing away. I can’t say I was ever afraid of being seen by an adult. I guess my fear of getting caught hadn’t developed yet. Eighth graders aren’t known as the sharpest tools in the shed.
I never actually inhaled the smoke. Doing so caused me extreme nausea and dizziness but I could take into my mouth lots of smoke and blow beautifully formed smoke rings. It all seemed so innocent and fun but such a lot of work. Stealing cigarettes didn’t last long. We never got caught, we just became bored.
I didn’t smoke another cigarette until my freshman year at college. My good friend from high school, Moxie, enrolled in San Diego State University with me. We got an apartment together and became roommates. Moxie liked to sit and smoke cigarettes while she watched soap operas in the afternoon. It seemed harmless enough so I would join her. I only allowed myself two cigarettes each afternoon. But before long I was craving them in the morning before school and finding myself smoking them at night before bed. I didn’t understand the power of addiction and before I realized it I was smoking on a regular basis, something I had promised myself I would never do. And that was it. I was an official cigarette smoker and would be for the next twenty years.
I became a professional at quitting smoking. I knew every trick in the book to give up those nasty cancer sticks but my longest attempt lasted only about nine days. I always started out with the best intentions. I would crumple up my pack of cigarettes and drown them under water. I did that at least once a week. But more times than not, within a few hours, I would dig those broken and wet cigarettes out of the trash and dry them in the oven. I alternated from quitting smoking and swearing I would take those cigarettes with me to the grave. Quitting was so difficult, after each failed attempt, I would vow to never quit smoking again. But smoking in today’s day and age isn’t the same as it was back in the 1940’s when everyone smoked. The kids were being taught in school that I was going to die because I smoked. That created a whole lot of unnecessary quilt within me and fear within them. I tried to explain, “Yes the cigarettes might eventually kill me someday, but not today.” My kids didn’t understand matters of death and dying. I actually thought it was cruel to tell my kids that their smoking mother wasn’t going to live very long. I felt that was deceptive and manipulating. And it only made it harder for me to enjoy my cigarettes.
The day I actually quit smoking wasn’t much different than any other day. I had been to a meeting the night before and a friend inquired, “Do you enjoy your cigarettes?” I replied, “I usually do, not always, but I will never quit smoking because it is too hard.” He shared with me that he had quit and it was the greatest decision he ever made. He talked about having more time in his day and having more air. He said it felt amazing walking up a flight of stairs without running out of breath. He mentioned the freedom he had in the morning to take quiet walks and spend time with God. My mornings consisted of four or five cigarettes and a pot of coffee. I listened to him for awhile and I appreciated what he said. Instead of telling me all the dreadful consequences of cigarette smoking he shared with me all the good that came from quitting. I liked that approach. I went home and that night I had a dream that I quit smoking. When I woke up the next morning I quit. I vowed, “I will never smoke again.” Of course I had no idea it would be the first day of the next six years without a cigarette but I actually quit that day and haven’t smoked since. When a day would come that went all wrong and everything within me cried out for a cigarette I’d call nicotine anonymous and talk to someone who knew exactly what I was going through. Talking to an ex smoker is the one thing that helped me the most.
I remember calling my mom on the phone every time I’d decide to quit. “Hey, mom, guess what? I haven’t had a cigarette all day.” She was always so proud of me. And then I would get all upset over some irrational nothing and swear the only relief to my problem was a cigarette. Then I’d call my mom again, “Guess what mom? I had a cigarette.” She would say the same thing to me every time, “Never quit quitting. One of these times it will be the last time.” And she was right. Not long ago I ran into my old college roommate and I told her all about that nasty habit she got me started on. She replied she hadn’t had a cigarette since college. “Good for you,” I said. And I meant it.
My friend Winette was a little braver than myself. She would steal whole cigarettes from her mother’s purse. She would say, “Come on Lacy, I have some cigarettes,” and off we’d go to the local elementary school. Climbing up on the classroom roof we’d light those cigarettes. Boy did we feel cool. I hate to admit I had fallen into the trap of appearances but I wanted every other kid in the neighborhood to see me sitting up on that school roof puffing away. I can’t say I was ever afraid of being seen by an adult. I guess my fear of getting caught hadn’t developed yet. Eighth graders aren’t known as the sharpest tools in the shed.
I never actually inhaled the smoke. Doing so caused me extreme nausea and dizziness but I could take into my mouth lots of smoke and blow beautifully formed smoke rings. It all seemed so innocent and fun but such a lot of work. Stealing cigarettes didn’t last long. We never got caught, we just became bored.
I didn’t smoke another cigarette until my freshman year at college. My good friend from high school, Moxie, enrolled in San Diego State University with me. We got an apartment together and became roommates. Moxie liked to sit and smoke cigarettes while she watched soap operas in the afternoon. It seemed harmless enough so I would join her. I only allowed myself two cigarettes each afternoon. But before long I was craving them in the morning before school and finding myself smoking them at night before bed. I didn’t understand the power of addiction and before I realized it I was smoking on a regular basis, something I had promised myself I would never do. And that was it. I was an official cigarette smoker and would be for the next twenty years.
I became a professional at quitting smoking. I knew every trick in the book to give up those nasty cancer sticks but my longest attempt lasted only about nine days. I always started out with the best intentions. I would crumple up my pack of cigarettes and drown them under water. I did that at least once a week. But more times than not, within a few hours, I would dig those broken and wet cigarettes out of the trash and dry them in the oven. I alternated from quitting smoking and swearing I would take those cigarettes with me to the grave. Quitting was so difficult, after each failed attempt, I would vow to never quit smoking again. But smoking in today’s day and age isn’t the same as it was back in the 1940’s when everyone smoked. The kids were being taught in school that I was going to die because I smoked. That created a whole lot of unnecessary quilt within me and fear within them. I tried to explain, “Yes the cigarettes might eventually kill me someday, but not today.” My kids didn’t understand matters of death and dying. I actually thought it was cruel to tell my kids that their smoking mother wasn’t going to live very long. I felt that was deceptive and manipulating. And it only made it harder for me to enjoy my cigarettes.
The day I actually quit smoking wasn’t much different than any other day. I had been to a meeting the night before and a friend inquired, “Do you enjoy your cigarettes?” I replied, “I usually do, not always, but I will never quit smoking because it is too hard.” He shared with me that he had quit and it was the greatest decision he ever made. He talked about having more time in his day and having more air. He said it felt amazing walking up a flight of stairs without running out of breath. He mentioned the freedom he had in the morning to take quiet walks and spend time with God. My mornings consisted of four or five cigarettes and a pot of coffee. I listened to him for awhile and I appreciated what he said. Instead of telling me all the dreadful consequences of cigarette smoking he shared with me all the good that came from quitting. I liked that approach. I went home and that night I had a dream that I quit smoking. When I woke up the next morning I quit. I vowed, “I will never smoke again.” Of course I had no idea it would be the first day of the next six years without a cigarette but I actually quit that day and haven’t smoked since. When a day would come that went all wrong and everything within me cried out for a cigarette I’d call nicotine anonymous and talk to someone who knew exactly what I was going through. Talking to an ex smoker is the one thing that helped me the most.
I remember calling my mom on the phone every time I’d decide to quit. “Hey, mom, guess what? I haven’t had a cigarette all day.” She was always so proud of me. And then I would get all upset over some irrational nothing and swear the only relief to my problem was a cigarette. Then I’d call my mom again, “Guess what mom? I had a cigarette.” She would say the same thing to me every time, “Never quit quitting. One of these times it will be the last time.” And she was right. Not long ago I ran into my old college roommate and I told her all about that nasty habit she got me started on. She replied she hadn’t had a cigarette since college. “Good for you,” I said. And I meant it.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Enjoying Easter With The Family
Easter is a time of celebration; Jesus has risen. What better way to say thanks to God then to spend the day with family and friends. Of course Christmas is the ultimate Jesus rejoicing holiday, But Easter comes in close second and offers a day of worship and relaxation.
Easter begins with Church. Often I can get my family to attend with me. Every year we start early putting out subtle hints; "Remember, Easter begins with Jesus." Sometimes a child shows up, maybe my sister. When my dad was alive the whole family attended. Something happened when dad passed away. Some of our family traditions fell a part, unfortunately one of them was Easter Sunday Church Celebration.
But don't get me wrong, the time spent with family after the service has filled photo albums full of great memories. A day at the park with Kentucky Fried Chicken and potato salad is the yearly ritual. Someone always shows up early to reserve a spot. The park fills up fast. Blankets, water coolers, lawn chairs and food cover large sections of the park grounds. Families from all over gather to enjoy this wonderful day set aside to celebrate each other. Even though the day belongs to God, I'm pretty certain he wouldn't have it any other way.
Of course there's always the easter egg hunt for the kids and an egg toss game played with the eggs decorated the night before. Baskets of candy and chocolate layed down by young-ins on the grass lead many tempting adults into indulgence. If only we all came prepared with our own sweets to eat. Of course Wendy always makes a cherry cobbler, but nothing satisfies like a chocolate bunny ear or a malted milk egg. It's just not an easter picnic without a marshmallow bunny.
Even on days when the weather isn't right and the park is uninviting,we all gather together in someones home. The relative with the largest house opens the doors for all to come in. Maybe it's not as comfortable as a blanket on the lawn or as fun as flying a kite through the clouds, but we all make due. As long as the family is together, then all is well.
And when the day is over and we've all gone home, I always thank God not only for loving me, but for giving me the greatest family in the whole wide world.
Easter begins with Church. Often I can get my family to attend with me. Every year we start early putting out subtle hints; "Remember, Easter begins with Jesus." Sometimes a child shows up, maybe my sister. When my dad was alive the whole family attended. Something happened when dad passed away. Some of our family traditions fell a part, unfortunately one of them was Easter Sunday Church Celebration.
But don't get me wrong, the time spent with family after the service has filled photo albums full of great memories. A day at the park with Kentucky Fried Chicken and potato salad is the yearly ritual. Someone always shows up early to reserve a spot. The park fills up fast. Blankets, water coolers, lawn chairs and food cover large sections of the park grounds. Families from all over gather to enjoy this wonderful day set aside to celebrate each other. Even though the day belongs to God, I'm pretty certain he wouldn't have it any other way.
Of course there's always the easter egg hunt for the kids and an egg toss game played with the eggs decorated the night before. Baskets of candy and chocolate layed down by young-ins on the grass lead many tempting adults into indulgence. If only we all came prepared with our own sweets to eat. Of course Wendy always makes a cherry cobbler, but nothing satisfies like a chocolate bunny ear or a malted milk egg. It's just not an easter picnic without a marshmallow bunny.
Even on days when the weather isn't right and the park is uninviting,we all gather together in someones home. The relative with the largest house opens the doors for all to come in. Maybe it's not as comfortable as a blanket on the lawn or as fun as flying a kite through the clouds, but we all make due. As long as the family is together, then all is well.
And when the day is over and we've all gone home, I always thank God not only for loving me, but for giving me the greatest family in the whole wide world.
Addicted to Bulimia
Addicted to Bulimia
I am amazed how addictive some things can be. I have heard it said that some people have an addictive personality. They tend to become addicted to substances and behaviors more easily than others. That was me. I became addicted to bulimia. In fact, I became addicted to almost anything I could get my hands on throughout my life as I would discover throughout my life.
I don't think it ever had anything to do with weight in the beginning. I liked sweets and now I had away of eating all of them I wanted and not having to worry about getting fat. The problem was, I became addicted to eating. I couldn't stop. It seemed all I thought about was food; how much I could get my hands on and into my mouth. And then the next thought was always where the closest bathroom was so I could get rid of it? Try hiding that from your parents for years.
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Bulimia was my quick fix to weight management. I could eat anything I wanted and not gain weight. Bulimia was only a symptom of a bigger problem; eating. Food provided comfort, but food was fattening. I didn't want to get fat so I threw up everything I ate.
I was very active in my teen years. I joined sports events in school and ran for school council. I was involved in drama, public speaking, drill team, piano lessons, etc. My father encouraged his children to get involved, so I did, in almost everything I had time for, and didn't have time for.
I think I was a perfectionist and a people pleaser. I wanted people to like me and I needed to do everything right. I had very high expectations of myself. Although weight wasn't a huge issue in Junior High, once I entered into High school it became very clear how important it was to be thin.
I quickly found out that I could get more out of being thin than being overweight. If I was really thin I could get a lot of compliments and praise. Even people staring at me was a confidence boost and increased my self perception. But as soon as any weight crept onto my small frame I would hear whispers from classmates about how I looked. And being bulimic, the weight was on and off all the time.
Sometimes I would get so sick and tired of throwing up I would just quit eating. And because I was constantly running or playing softball the extra weight would fall off me fast. It was like a constant roller coaster ride. Food had become a very bad habit and my worst enemy. I grew to hate food and hated eating more, but I couldn't seem to stop.
I had lost the power of choice over food and it was controlling and ruining my life. It would be like that for a very long time. Until one day when God smiled down on me. He poured out His love and grace upon me and delivered me from the control of food. I was set free and delivered from obsessive overeating once and for all never to bow down to the stronghold over me again.
Food obsession and bulimia starts in the mind. You must change the way you think if you are ever going to stop the insanity. Try different things like listening to music or watching TV. Think about whatever helps you get your mind off of food, and do whatever you need to do to keep from vomiting up everything you eat. Change your thinking, and your actions will follow. It is a process and doesn't always happen overnight. Just don't give up. Practice makes perfect.
I am amazed how addictive some things can be. I have heard it said that some people have an addictive personality. They tend to become addicted to substances and behaviors more easily than others. That was me. I became addicted to bulimia. In fact, I became addicted to almost anything I could get my hands on throughout my life as I would discover throughout my life.
I don't think it ever had anything to do with weight in the beginning. I liked sweets and now I had away of eating all of them I wanted and not having to worry about getting fat. The problem was, I became addicted to eating. I couldn't stop. It seemed all I thought about was food; how much I could get my hands on and into my mouth. And then the next thought was always where the closest bathroom was so I could get rid of it? Try hiding that from your parents for years.
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Bulimia was my quick fix to weight management. I could eat anything I wanted and not gain weight. Bulimia was only a symptom of a bigger problem; eating. Food provided comfort, but food was fattening. I didn't want to get fat so I threw up everything I ate.
I was very active in my teen years. I joined sports events in school and ran for school council. I was involved in drama, public speaking, drill team, piano lessons, etc. My father encouraged his children to get involved, so I did, in almost everything I had time for, and didn't have time for.
I think I was a perfectionist and a people pleaser. I wanted people to like me and I needed to do everything right. I had very high expectations of myself. Although weight wasn't a huge issue in Junior High, once I entered into High school it became very clear how important it was to be thin.
I quickly found out that I could get more out of being thin than being overweight. If I was really thin I could get a lot of compliments and praise. Even people staring at me was a confidence boost and increased my self perception. But as soon as any weight crept onto my small frame I would hear whispers from classmates about how I looked. And being bulimic, the weight was on and off all the time.
Sometimes I would get so sick and tired of throwing up I would just quit eating. And because I was constantly running or playing softball the extra weight would fall off me fast. It was like a constant roller coaster ride. Food had become a very bad habit and my worst enemy. I grew to hate food and hated eating more, but I couldn't seem to stop.
I had lost the power of choice over food and it was controlling and ruining my life. It would be like that for a very long time. Until one day when God smiled down on me. He poured out His love and grace upon me and delivered me from the control of food. I was set free and delivered from obsessive overeating once and for all never to bow down to the stronghold over me again.
Food obsession and bulimia starts in the mind. You must change the way you think if you are ever going to stop the insanity. Try different things like listening to music or watching TV. Think about whatever helps you get your mind off of food, and do whatever you need to do to keep from vomiting up everything you eat. Change your thinking, and your actions will follow. It is a process and doesn't always happen overnight. Just don't give up. Practice makes perfect.
Helping the alcoholic by not helping!
Boundaries are important. It’s your right as a parent to enforce house rules. If you choose to have an alcohol free home and your child decides to drink, it is okay to tell the child to find another place to sleep. Handing the child a sleeping bag and pillow with directions to the local lounge chair by the pool is acceptable. At first you might cry yourself to sleep, but over time you will experience a freedom like never before. Why should you stay up all night wondering what the alcoholic is doing downstairs? Who’s to say they aren’t going to drink themselves into a blackout, leave a cigarette burning on the sofa, and burn down your house. Too many well meaning parents suffer daily from a child’s drinking because they were afraid to upset their child. Guilt must become a four letter word. As a parent no matter how responsible you might feel for your child’s drinking, it is not your fault. You are not to blame and you are not responsible for getting them sober. Your only responsibility is taking care of yourself. Think about it, you’ve spent years ranting and raving, crying and grieving but to no avail. Not one bit of your pity party made a dent in your child’s drinking so why not try another approach. You won’t be labeled a bad parent turning the focus from the child onto yourself. In fact, overtime, it could be the best parenting decision you’ll ever make. Here is a list of don’ts: don’t nag. Don’t pour alcohol down the drain, it is a waste of money and the alcoholic will only find a way of getting more. Don’t provoke the alcoholic to anger. Alcoholics love to drink their anger away. Don’t do for the alcoholic what the alcoholic should do. Taking care of another’s responsibilities only sets up a bad habit of allowing the alcoholic to permanently neglect personal responsibilities. Alcoholics are liars whether they mean to be or not. Believing their promises is futile. It’s a good idea not to. If you do threaten or set a boundary, stick to it. Here is a list of dos: if you want to help your alcoholic child, focus on yourself. Learn all you can about alcoholism. Stay in an attitude of love and compassion but remember you must also discipline. When engaged in conversations with the alcoholic keep it simple. Talk about the weather or let the alcoholic lead the conversation. Start developing a safe relationship with the child. An alcoholic is much more willing to approach a parent who isn’t going to attack. Children crave protection no matter how old they are. Be a safe haven for your child. And learn acceptance. The easiest route to freedom is accepting other people exactly the way they are. By accepting them you quit trying to change them. It doesn’t mean you have to suffer abuse. Remember those boundaries. And remember to pray. No one is capable of coping with everything life has to offer alone. Without God’s help we fail before we ever begin. Start by thanking Him that you’ve been spared this debilitating disease alcoholics suffer with daily. You too could be just as downtrodden as your child. No one is better than anyone else in God’s eyes. We are all equal. Ask God each day what you can do for your child or better yet what He can do for your child if you get out of His way. The more you turn your child over to God, trusting that He is able to take care of him, the easier it gets. Practice makes perfect. The first step is to believe. Trust that there is a God who can heal your child and restore you to sanity. And remember, you are not Him. You are not God and He doesn’t need your help. God knows what your child needs better than you do. Daily give your child over to the care of God and go take a walk, read a good book or eat a hot fudge sundae. God is in control and He loves your child more than you do. Picture your child resting in the palm of God’s hands and leave him there.Occasionally it hurts. Some days it hurts badly. You might even cry. Go ahead. Then take a deep breath, put on Pavarotti, and let it go. Never give up hope, without hope we would die, just remember life happens in God’s time. And He always knows best.
Enabling. Just prolonging the agony.
One of the most difficult situations a parent faces is when a child suffers from alcoholism. Of all the dreams parents have for their children, chances are alcoholism isn’t one of them. Only a mother understands the pain she feels watching a child die inside. And even worse are the feelings of helplessness. Sadly we learn there is nothing we can do to get our child to quit drinking before they are ready.Alcoholism is a progressive disease. It gets worse never better. Once the disease has been established there is no turning back. Alcoholics try different methods in an attempt to control their drinking; they drink only beer or only wine. They try drinking only in the evenings or on weekends. They go to any length to control their drinking to avoid giving it up entirely. Alcoholics are convinced they cannot live without the alcohol. They are addicted; they are dependent. An alcoholic deprived of alcohol can seizure or in some cases die. Watching a child suffer this way is more than a parent can handle without help. But thank God there is help. The first step is realizing the alcoholic has a disease. The American Medical Association recognizes alcoholism as a disease that can never be cured. The drinking starts out as a crutch, an escape from life’s problems, but over time becomes a dependence that controls and destroys. It helps to treat the alcoholic as you would a friend who has cancer. Compassion, not anger, reaps huge rewards. Unfortunately the alcoholic lives in denial. Alcoholics have difficulty admitting defeat. The first step for the alcoholic is realization of the problem and a willingness to get help. Unfortunately for the family only the alcoholic can make the decision. It is possible for family and friends to delay recovery by persistently trying to get the alcoholic sober sooner than they are willing. Many well meaning parents have prolonged the drinking due to excessive nagging, blaming and scolding. Vicious cycles are created out of love and fear. A mother cries and begs her son to quit drinking. Instead of quitting he drinks more from the guilt he feels over his mother’s obvious disappointment. Alcoholics love excuses. Give an alcoholic an excuse to drink and watch him drink. Not because he wants to, but because he has to. The next step is to admit that you are powerless over your child’s drinking, just as the alcoholic is powerless over the alcohol. Once you determine there is nothing you can do, you will be better off. It sounds harsh to say you’ll find happiness by refusing to help your child, but by refusing to help your child you are actually helping him more. We all have a God given path we must walk. By refusing to allow your child to walk on his path you are interfering in God’s plan. Children must learn to suffer the consequences of their own behavior. If parents are pouring liquor down drains, bailing kids out of jail, paying expensive fines and covering up, the child isn’t forced to suffer any consequences, therefore not learning from the mistakes he makes. These behaviors will continue until you as a parent step back and put the reigns back into your child’s hands.
Book Review: Addiction: A Personal Story
Guest CommentaryADDICTION: A Personal Story--Offers Rich Resource ToolBy Rev. Austin Mileswww.MichNews.com Nov 6, 2006
It is not just the 'unsaved' that becomes ensnared. All families are vulnerable. The scourge of addiction has intruded into families one would least expect to be affected by the drug and alcohol problem. And this includes some prominent Christian families and even some church leaders. We have all been made aware of the failure of a high-profile pastor who apparently struggled with both drug and sexual addiction.
The best counseling you can receive is from those who have been in a situation similar to yours, managed to get through it, and [even] though damaged by the experience, landed on their feet and reclaimed their lives.
Addiction: A Personal Story, commendably written by Lacy Enderson who lived the horror of addiction and eventually conquered it, gives us a full account of an extremely difficult and painful journey. But this work shows that no matter how tough it is you can overcome, as has been proven by the author who would have been labeled as a "worst case scenario."
She details her fears, struggles, uncontrolled anger, destructive rage, doubts and humiliations along with the enormous guilt feelings that come from the addiction that controlled her life.
Then there were the sometimes brutal body reactions (as it craves more and more), that demands surrender.
The author describes in lurid detail the degrading episodes that shamed her and caused so much pain not only for herself but her loved ones as well. It cost her two husbands who finally reached a breaking point due to her drunken behavior and walked out.
Since her recovery she has been happily re-married for more than nine years. Her husband, Richard, is a recovered addict and they both have learned the principles of a good marriage.
Written as a daily devotional, each page leads off with a Scripture verse that was thoughtfully and carefully selected. Then there is a portion of the author's life...the dumb things she did while under the influence, details of who she talked to, what encouraged her, how her cravings overtook her and what she was thinking.
Each page contains a "Thought to Meditate On." These thoughts, which are a wrap-up of each episode described, are very powerful and will sometimes jolt the reader.
Under that is a space with the heading, "Thoughts and Revelations," which gives the readers a place to write down what they are thinking as they read the page.
Never has any devotional work gripped this reviewer like Addiction: A Personal Story. Each page gives bits and snippets of the author's life, which becomes more and more intriguing and compelling. You want to know what is coming next.
Indeed, I defy any reader to simply read the page for the day and put the book down until the next day. The reader will be drawn to read further and further as the story of Lacy Enderson unfolds.
She takes you on the whole journey, disturbing as it is, but one that does end in victory after her desperate determination overruled her demanding cravings. And that includes cigarettes among the addictions she had to conquer.
Sometimes the author is so candid and honest about her life, with such personal revelations, that you hesitate to read further feeling that you may be intruding upon her privacy.
There are times the reader will even feel a little uncomfortable. She wants you to know it all; how the alcoholic justifies drinking, the deceptions that become a part of the addict's life…how she learned to manipulate and control others, and of course, the excuses that she had down pat. She is very frank about her failures, the disgraces she experienced and how she fought her way back. In so doing she offers hope to the hopeless.
Every emotion...every challenge the addict experiences is covered. There is no ducking any of it. This book will be an eye-opener for every addict who reads it. And they will read it if someone who cares provides a copy. It is a mirror of the life every addict lives. The Forward by Trisha Lee tells how to read and benefit from this book.
After an Introduction, the author tells how she used any excuse she could think of in order to justify her drinking, such as, "Even Jesus drank wine." Then she follows that up with almost three pages of Scriptures to show how the Lord feels about alcoholism, and urges that they be read, "on days when you try to convince yourself that one drink couldn't possibly hurt."
It is to be noted that a big role in her success was the encouragement of some of her friends.
And the reader who has a loved one going through the ordeal is encouraged to never give up on the one they care about. Often it takes several attempts over time to kick the habit.
As the author states in [one] 'Thought To Meditate On (pg.68),' " The worst thing you can do is give up on them. With each failed attempt they move one step closer to victory. Don't give up before the miracle happens."
And to cheer on the addict to be victorious, she writes this in, Thought To Meditate On, (pg. 9): " When we finally make the decision to quit drinking, God intervenes and breaks those chains of bondage to alcohol that hold us captive. He picks us up out of the dungeon of despair and puts us in a Royal Palace He created just for us. He called us to be priests and kings. Let us desire to live like one."
This very easy-to-read book is helpful in spotting warning signs of an addict or an about-to-be addict. This rich resource allows counselors to get into the head of the addicted which is essential for effective counseling. Especially concerning the addicted.
The book, put together by Bennett Deane Publishing, a new company in Simi Valley, California, is well produced with an excellent cover design, which shows a barren tree on a hill with dark forbidding clouds overhead with the ground under the tree dark. It is an attention-getter that will stand out on a bookshelf. The book can be ordered on Amazon.com.
As I read this book, I thought of the author, Ernest Hemingway who was also known for his uncontrolled binge drinking. He once said that there is one thing more that he would have liked to be able to do. And that was to go through life again.….sober. He knew he had missed a lot..
Had Addiction-A Personal Story been available in his time, perhaps Hemingway would have been able to experience at least a sober second half of his life.
Copyright by Rev. Austin Miles
------------------------------Rev. Austin Miles is a chaplain and counselor who has worked with drug addicts in New York City, and worked closely with famed social psychologist Kenneth Clark in the Juvenile Decency Program founded by noted comedian, Joey Adams.
It is not just the 'unsaved' that becomes ensnared. All families are vulnerable. The scourge of addiction has intruded into families one would least expect to be affected by the drug and alcohol problem. And this includes some prominent Christian families and even some church leaders. We have all been made aware of the failure of a high-profile pastor who apparently struggled with both drug and sexual addiction.
The best counseling you can receive is from those who have been in a situation similar to yours, managed to get through it, and [even] though damaged by the experience, landed on their feet and reclaimed their lives.
Addiction: A Personal Story, commendably written by Lacy Enderson who lived the horror of addiction and eventually conquered it, gives us a full account of an extremely difficult and painful journey. But this work shows that no matter how tough it is you can overcome, as has been proven by the author who would have been labeled as a "worst case scenario."
She details her fears, struggles, uncontrolled anger, destructive rage, doubts and humiliations along with the enormous guilt feelings that come from the addiction that controlled her life.
Then there were the sometimes brutal body reactions (as it craves more and more), that demands surrender.
The author describes in lurid detail the degrading episodes that shamed her and caused so much pain not only for herself but her loved ones as well. It cost her two husbands who finally reached a breaking point due to her drunken behavior and walked out.
Since her recovery she has been happily re-married for more than nine years. Her husband, Richard, is a recovered addict and they both have learned the principles of a good marriage.
Written as a daily devotional, each page leads off with a Scripture verse that was thoughtfully and carefully selected. Then there is a portion of the author's life...the dumb things she did while under the influence, details of who she talked to, what encouraged her, how her cravings overtook her and what she was thinking.
Each page contains a "Thought to Meditate On." These thoughts, which are a wrap-up of each episode described, are very powerful and will sometimes jolt the reader.
Under that is a space with the heading, "Thoughts and Revelations," which gives the readers a place to write down what they are thinking as they read the page.
Never has any devotional work gripped this reviewer like Addiction: A Personal Story. Each page gives bits and snippets of the author's life, which becomes more and more intriguing and compelling. You want to know what is coming next.
Indeed, I defy any reader to simply read the page for the day and put the book down until the next day. The reader will be drawn to read further and further as the story of Lacy Enderson unfolds.
She takes you on the whole journey, disturbing as it is, but one that does end in victory after her desperate determination overruled her demanding cravings. And that includes cigarettes among the addictions she had to conquer.
Sometimes the author is so candid and honest about her life, with such personal revelations, that you hesitate to read further feeling that you may be intruding upon her privacy.
There are times the reader will even feel a little uncomfortable. She wants you to know it all; how the alcoholic justifies drinking, the deceptions that become a part of the addict's life…how she learned to manipulate and control others, and of course, the excuses that she had down pat. She is very frank about her failures, the disgraces she experienced and how she fought her way back. In so doing she offers hope to the hopeless.
Every emotion...every challenge the addict experiences is covered. There is no ducking any of it. This book will be an eye-opener for every addict who reads it. And they will read it if someone who cares provides a copy. It is a mirror of the life every addict lives. The Forward by Trisha Lee tells how to read and benefit from this book.
After an Introduction, the author tells how she used any excuse she could think of in order to justify her drinking, such as, "Even Jesus drank wine." Then she follows that up with almost three pages of Scriptures to show how the Lord feels about alcoholism, and urges that they be read, "on days when you try to convince yourself that one drink couldn't possibly hurt."
It is to be noted that a big role in her success was the encouragement of some of her friends.
And the reader who has a loved one going through the ordeal is encouraged to never give up on the one they care about. Often it takes several attempts over time to kick the habit.
As the author states in [one] 'Thought To Meditate On (pg.68),' " The worst thing you can do is give up on them. With each failed attempt they move one step closer to victory. Don't give up before the miracle happens."
And to cheer on the addict to be victorious, she writes this in, Thought To Meditate On, (pg. 9): " When we finally make the decision to quit drinking, God intervenes and breaks those chains of bondage to alcohol that hold us captive. He picks us up out of the dungeon of despair and puts us in a Royal Palace He created just for us. He called us to be priests and kings. Let us desire to live like one."
This very easy-to-read book is helpful in spotting warning signs of an addict or an about-to-be addict. This rich resource allows counselors to get into the head of the addicted which is essential for effective counseling. Especially concerning the addicted.
The book, put together by Bennett Deane Publishing, a new company in Simi Valley, California, is well produced with an excellent cover design, which shows a barren tree on a hill with dark forbidding clouds overhead with the ground under the tree dark. It is an attention-getter that will stand out on a bookshelf. The book can be ordered on Amazon.com.
As I read this book, I thought of the author, Ernest Hemingway who was also known for his uncontrolled binge drinking. He once said that there is one thing more that he would have liked to be able to do. And that was to go through life again.….sober. He knew he had missed a lot..
Had Addiction-A Personal Story been available in his time, perhaps Hemingway would have been able to experience at least a sober second half of his life.
Copyright by Rev. Austin Miles
------------------------------Rev. Austin Miles is a chaplain and counselor who has worked with drug addicts in New York City, and worked closely with famed social psychologist Kenneth Clark in the Juvenile Decency Program founded by noted comedian, Joey Adams.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Passion
Passion: an object of desire or deep interest, an intense emotion, deeply stirring within. Passion is a feeling so profound that one must run to it. Affection so intimate one must submit. (Webster's Dictionary)
A world turned upside down trying to discover the true heat of passion, the inner desire that can only satisfy the deepest craving. No person, place, or thing will ever quantify such a strong desire, but one must search for it, never giving up. Eventually the object of desire manifests and all is well.
Never to have what one longs for is the ultimate death, a spiritual death. Physically one is fine, only wishing to pass from here to the other side in hopes of finding that one true connection, the strongest point of reality.
Too often we settle for less. We give up on our dreams. We lie down and die never having tasted to see how sweet it is, and why? When there is so much hope and potential around us, we stop just short of our ultimate purpose. A passion for life that satisfies every inner longing is available to all yet so few ever find it. Not because it isn't there, but because we don't trust.
Passions are God given motivators. God puts inside of us our ultimate desire. He wouldn't dare to have us dream an unattainable goal. If God gives you a desire, go for it. Go all the way. Go back to school, go back and start over. Go back where you left off. But go back.
My mom finds passion in her grand-children. My dad finds passion in his coin collection. My son finds passion is his remote control race car. My daughter finds passion in her friends. Passion encourages, exhumes enthusiasm, and ushers in inner joy. Why settle for less than the one person, place or thing that offers all?
Endure to the end, it's never too late. Endure to the end with courage and drive. Endure to the end and God will unlock those secret spiritual treasures all wrapped up in passion, those treasures which are hidden from those who don't endure to the end.
There is one special place within all of us. That place resides within the deepest part of our heart. Don't we owe it to ourselves to discover who we are? To find out what truly moves us, to unlock the door to our greatest joy? No one should live without passion. No one should deprive themselves the depth of Gods love.
Passion: an object of desire or deep interest, an intense emotion, deeply stirring within. Passion is a feeling so profound that one must run to it. Affection so intimate one must submit.
A world turned upside down trying to discover the true heat of passion, the inner desire that can only satisfy the deepest craving. No person, place, or thing will ever quantify such a strong desire, but one must search for it, never giving up. Eventually the object of desire manifests and all is well.
Never to have what one longs for is the ultimate death, a spiritual death. Physically one is fine, only wishing to pass from here to the other side in hopes of finding that one true connection, the strongest point of reality.
Too often we settle for less. We give up on our dreams. We lie down and die never having tasted to see how sweet it is, and why? When there is so much hope and potential around us, we stop just short of our ultimate purpose. A passion for life that satisfies every inner longing is available to all yet so few ever find it. Not because it isn't there, but because we don't trust.
Passions are God given motivators. God puts inside of us our ultimate desire. He wouldn't dare to have us dream an unattainable goal. If God gives you a desire, go for it. Go all the way. Go back to school, go back and start over. Go back where you left off. But go back.
My mom finds passion in her grand-children. My dad finds passion in his coin collection. My son finds passion is his remote control race car. My daughter finds passion in her friends. Passion encourages, exhumes enthusiasm, and ushers in inner joy. Why settle for less than the one person, place or thing that offers all?
Endure to the end, it's never too late. Endure to the end with courage and drive. Endure to the end and God will unlock those secret spiritual treasures all wrapped up in passion, those treasures which are hidden from those who don't endure to the end.
There is one special place within all of us. That place resides within the deepest part of our heart. Don't we owe it to ourselves to discover who we are? To find out what truly moves us, to unlock the door to our greatest joy? No one should live without passion. No one should deprive themselves the depth of Gods love.
Passion: an object of desire or deep interest, an intense emotion, deeply stirring within. Passion is a feeling so profound that one must run to it. Affection so intimate one must submit.
Obsessive Compulsive Disorder
Disturbing thoughts or images are called obsessions. The rituals or actions associated with the obsessions are called compulsions. People who suffer from obsessive compulsive disorder do not necessarily gain pleasure from their performances, only a temporary relief. Each ritual needs to be performed over and over again thus never allowing complete satisfaction.
OCD is best described by a group or series of rituals that must be performed. These thoughts are uncontrollable. A person who suffers has lost their power of choice. They cannot control the thoughts and they must perform the routine. The urgent need to carry out certain tasks is overwhelming and very life hindering.
Tracey was a hand washer. She was constantly washing her hands. And she had a hand washing ritual. She would put soap in her hands, rub them around, and rinse the soap. She would do this three times for each hand washing ritual. And her hands had to be washed if she touched anything she felt was unsanitary. Tracey carried around a can of Lysol and a rag and wiped everything in her house she touched. This was an all day, ongoing routine. Needless to say, Tracey's hands were red and raw.
Not only are there hand washers, there are those who constantly check things like the electrical appliances to see if they've been turned off, the locks on the doors to see if the doors are locked. People touch things and count. Some people avoid walking on the cracks in sidewalks. Some people clean their whole house everyday or maybe it's just sweeping the floor every hour. Whatever it is, it is a bondage that must be broken.
The majority of people can relate in some way to OCD behaviors. Maybe the pillows have to be in the right place on the couch or the remote in a straight line with the TV guide on the end table, but for those who suffer severe symptoms of the disorder have far more debilitating symptoms. Hours each day are consumed with distressing and interfering thoughts and behaviors.
Most adults who suffer from OCD recognize that their disease is senseless. Children however don't always relate their behaviors to a disease.
OCD effects about 3.3 million adult Americans. It is just as prevalent in men as in women and it attacks people of all ages. Most adults recognize symptoms beginning in childhood. In some cases symptoms get better with age, but not always. Sometimes symptoms increase or ease up depending on life events.
Along with OCD the patient can suffer with depression, other anxiety disorders and eating disorders. Whatever the severity, OCD can be a great hindrance to life and must be treated.
OCD is best described by a group or series of rituals that must be performed. These thoughts are uncontrollable. A person who suffers has lost their power of choice. They cannot control the thoughts and they must perform the routine. The urgent need to carry out certain tasks is overwhelming and very life hindering.
Tracey was a hand washer. She was constantly washing her hands. And she had a hand washing ritual. She would put soap in her hands, rub them around, and rinse the soap. She would do this three times for each hand washing ritual. And her hands had to be washed if she touched anything she felt was unsanitary. Tracey carried around a can of Lysol and a rag and wiped everything in her house she touched. This was an all day, ongoing routine. Needless to say, Tracey's hands were red and raw.
Not only are there hand washers, there are those who constantly check things like the electrical appliances to see if they've been turned off, the locks on the doors to see if the doors are locked. People touch things and count. Some people avoid walking on the cracks in sidewalks. Some people clean their whole house everyday or maybe it's just sweeping the floor every hour. Whatever it is, it is a bondage that must be broken.
The majority of people can relate in some way to OCD behaviors. Maybe the pillows have to be in the right place on the couch or the remote in a straight line with the TV guide on the end table, but for those who suffer severe symptoms of the disorder have far more debilitating symptoms. Hours each day are consumed with distressing and interfering thoughts and behaviors.
Most adults who suffer from OCD recognize that their disease is senseless. Children however don't always relate their behaviors to a disease.
OCD effects about 3.3 million adult Americans. It is just as prevalent in men as in women and it attacks people of all ages. Most adults recognize symptoms beginning in childhood. In some cases symptoms get better with age, but not always. Sometimes symptoms increase or ease up depending on life events.
Along with OCD the patient can suffer with depression, other anxiety disorders and eating disorders. Whatever the severity, OCD can be a great hindrance to life and must be treated.
Social Phobia or Social Anxiety Disorder
A social anxiety disorder, or social phobia, can inhibit a person's life tremendously by causing extreme fear and anxiety in normal social settings. These irrational fears can start days or weeks in advance as the person who suffers gets closer and closer to the social event. Social anxiety disorder is a real concern. For those who suffer, help is detrimental to achieving the ability to live a normal life.
Social anxiety disorder effects about 5.3 million adult Americans. Both men and women equally suffer. The disorder usually begins in childhood. There are cases where one who suffers at a young age does overcome some of the fear by adulthood, but not usually all of the fear. The disease can get worse depending upon the person and their lifestyle. For those who hide out in their home, recovery is slow. For those who set out to pursue social situations in spite of the fear, recovery comes quicker. In any case, social phobia is life hindering and must be treated.
Many people who suffer from a social disorder also suffer from other anxiety disorders, including depression. Those who suffer can also suffer from drug and alcohol abuse. Self medicating helps the phobic deal with social situations better, unfortunately, drugs and alcohol is not the answer. Putting a bandaide on the splinter will only aggravate the situation.
People with social anxiety are overly self conscious. They fear being watched and judged by others. Most social phobics are afraid of embarrassing themselves in front of others so they resist doing or saying anything in public. Unfortunately a social phobic suffers from to much self focus but this is just an underlying symptom of a much deeper problem.
A social anxiety disorder causes persistent, intense, and chronic fear in social situations. And even though the social phobic realizes their fears are irrational, they can't do anything to escape the anxiety.
Some social phobias are centered around only one event such as speaking in front of a class or walking in late to a meeting. Some people cannot force themselves to get up to use a bathroom or get a drink for fear people will be watching them. Most of the fear starts in the mind as one obsesses on the thought of what might happen. Of course most of the things feared never take place.
People who suffer from social phobias can also suffer physical symptoms. These can include; blushing, profuse sweating, trembling, nausea, and difficulty talking. For those who suffer, friendships are near impossible, going to school or work is difficult, sometimes impossible. Fear of being around other people causes the social phobic isolation and loneliness.
It's hard for an extrovert to understand a social phobic, but it is important to accept and try to understand that people are different. We are not all the same. For that reason we must learn to care for and help anyone who suffers no matter how ridiculous or irrational the fear might seem.
Social anxiety disorder effects about 5.3 million adult Americans. Both men and women equally suffer. The disorder usually begins in childhood. There are cases where one who suffers at a young age does overcome some of the fear by adulthood, but not usually all of the fear. The disease can get worse depending upon the person and their lifestyle. For those who hide out in their home, recovery is slow. For those who set out to pursue social situations in spite of the fear, recovery comes quicker. In any case, social phobia is life hindering and must be treated.
Many people who suffer from a social disorder also suffer from other anxiety disorders, including depression. Those who suffer can also suffer from drug and alcohol abuse. Self medicating helps the phobic deal with social situations better, unfortunately, drugs and alcohol is not the answer. Putting a bandaide on the splinter will only aggravate the situation.
People with social anxiety are overly self conscious. They fear being watched and judged by others. Most social phobics are afraid of embarrassing themselves in front of others so they resist doing or saying anything in public. Unfortunately a social phobic suffers from to much self focus but this is just an underlying symptom of a much deeper problem.
A social anxiety disorder causes persistent, intense, and chronic fear in social situations. And even though the social phobic realizes their fears are irrational, they can't do anything to escape the anxiety.
Some social phobias are centered around only one event such as speaking in front of a class or walking in late to a meeting. Some people cannot force themselves to get up to use a bathroom or get a drink for fear people will be watching them. Most of the fear starts in the mind as one obsesses on the thought of what might happen. Of course most of the things feared never take place.
People who suffer from social phobias can also suffer physical symptoms. These can include; blushing, profuse sweating, trembling, nausea, and difficulty talking. For those who suffer, friendships are near impossible, going to school or work is difficult, sometimes impossible. Fear of being around other people causes the social phobic isolation and loneliness.
It's hard for an extrovert to understand a social phobic, but it is important to accept and try to understand that people are different. We are not all the same. For that reason we must learn to care for and help anyone who suffers no matter how ridiculous or irrational the fear might seem.
Everyday, unpredictable?
There are so many changes taking place all the time it's hard to keep up with them all. Just when life seems to be going along smoothly in an acceptable way, something happens to throw everything off kilter. But that isn't always a bad thing. Sometimes change is good. Like for instance, entering a cash contest and winning a lot of money. Who says money can't bring happiness. If the money buys me that home I've waited a long time for then it is a great thing to win. Or maybe my loved one actually stops drinking. And not only does he quit, he stays quit. That is a change of life like none other. Of course relapse is possible but we don't dwell on the negative. We stay grounded in the positive and we stay focused on the good. Only then do we really experience peace. So many changes, but what a great day!
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Ever lived with a practicing alcoholic?
My son is a practicing alcoholic. He drinks more than anyone I know. If he does not have a drink every four to five hours, he has seizures. Sometimes he has seizures in his sleep. I have seen him seizure and it is very frightening. It happened quickly with no warning, other than a far off stare. He started yelling out and his body grew stiff. He turned blue and started foaming at the mouth. This went on for about two minutes while I screamed, "Just keep breathing." It was a very traumatic experience. Another symptom of alcohol withdrawal is high blood pressure. My son called the paramedics on himself the other day because he wasn't feeling well. When they took his blood pressure, it was 170/110. They did not know how he wasn't dead. I would like to put my son in a detox but strange enough there isn't one. The cheapest detox center I found was 100.00 a day. He has Med-cal but no one will take it. It is frustrating to have a son who is dying and there isn't anything I can do. Hopefully a miracle will happen soon. I would hate to lose my son. He is only 26.
Spring is in the air!
It is a beautiful day outside, finally. The weather was cold for so long I thought it would never warm up. I have the type of body that has no tolerance for cold and my bones feel like they are literally freezing. Poor me, poor me. I guess I should be thanking my lucky stars I don't live where it snows.
On the other hand, warm weather brings grasshoppers. I have no worries of those pesky creatures when the thermostat is headed downwards. I guess I have to weigh the two evils. Do I like the cold or the grasshoppers? That's an easy one; where's my jacket!
On the other hand, warm weather brings grasshoppers. I have no worries of those pesky creatures when the thermostat is headed downwards. I guess I have to weigh the two evils. Do I like the cold or the grasshoppers? That's an easy one; where's my jacket!
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