Despair

I posted this on my poetry blog and decided to post it here for those of you who may not read the poetry blog.

Written by Sylvia

The depths of despair have taken my soul in their clutches
Ripped apart, turned inside out, cast aside with hard touches
My soul has been lost forever to the depths of despair
Frightening thoughts fill my soul, it is beyond all repair

A revelation so painful, to confront the dark side of my being
It has me questioning my sanity and I feel like fleeing
To escape the madness that overcomes my mind
Fighting my way through the debris left behind

Copyright © 2007 Sylvia A. Feeley All Rights Reserved

Memories

When I started this blog, I was going to rehash all the things I did when while drinking and taking drugs. As I wrote the first several posts, the memories became to painful and brought back shame of those things. I have decided that it is not necessary to bare my soul since those things are in the past and I am now living in the present, one day at a time. As addicts, we have all done things that we are not proud of and sometimes nothing useful can be gained by telling them. What is true is that we have for this day stopped that behavior and struggle each day of sobriety to not do them again. For people who have never had an addiction, please know that it is a struggle for those of us who are addicts. I still see things related to drugs on television that bring back feelings that I thought had been dealt with and disposed of. Sometimes a smell, like the smell of a match burning that trigger feelings of getting high. I am terrified of needles now and it is a real struggle when I have to have a blood test or and IV. The memory of the high is so vivid at times, that it scares me to death. What I do know is that I am so thankful that for the present, I am clean and with the guidance of God intend to stay that way.

Grateful

I have been taking a vacation from thinking and using my brain for the last month and that hasn’t gotten me anywhere except closer to dying from boredom. I am happy to report that my son and I continue to communicate and actually are getting along for the time being. His birthday is tomorrow, June 21st and for his birthday, he and his partner have bought a condominium and close on it on his birthday. They have been together for over seventeen years and I am happy that they have gotten the condominium. I am grateful that they get along and stay together through thick and thin.

I am grateful that I have remained sober even though the past months have been full of turmoil and trouble. I am grateful that I have chosen not to drink or use drugs to deal with these issues. I am grateful that I no longer have hangovers. I am grateful that God loves me. I am grateful for the blessings He has bestowed upon me, the food and shelter that He has provided. I am just grateful period.

Remiss in Writing

I have been remiss in writing for the past week and have shut myself off from the world and those in it. No particular reason, just have not had the energy to think. I have had numerous conversations with my son and things are as good as they can be. What matters the most is that we are talking after so much silence. We have normal conversations, no yelling, screaming, cursing. Just good conversation between two people. I am thankful for this.

My hand is getting worse and it is getting harder to type. I cannot feel the keyboard with the little finger and ring finger on my left hand so it takes a little longer to type. I am also loosing the little strength I had left in that arm and am not sure why. As I said before, I am thankful that I have my hands and arms regardless of the problems.

I am thankful for all those who have died serving our country in time of war and honor them today.

Results of Nerve Test (Repeated)

(This is a repeat of my post today on Life in General and Other Things.)

I had the dreaded nerve test on Thursday of last week. The good news is that the doctor did not use needles, only electrodes and a “stun gun”. At least it looked like a stun gun to me. He used that device to “shoot” electrical current through the nerves to see if there was any interruption in the nerve. The bad news is that the ulnar nerve in my left arm is pinched/compressed at the elbow. The first course of treatment is therapy which begins June 5th. If the nerve cannot be decompressed with therapy, the next course of treatment will be surgery so that the nerve will not be permanently damaged. In the meantime, I am not supposed to use the left arm any more than necessary and to keep it straight as much as possible. If you have never tried to do that, take it from me, it is next to impossible to do. To make it even worse, I am left-handed.

After reading the news this morning, I can say that I am thankful that I have my arms even with the pinched nerve. I read a story about a young mother who contracted a flesh eating bacteria immediately after giving birth and lost both arms and legs in order to live. So no matter how bad a situation you are in seems to be, there is always someone in a worse situation.

Alone and Empty

So alone and filled with emptiness
No one to comfort me
Hold me in their arms, give me a hug
Whisper in my ear, things will be okay

Weary of starting my life over
Dusting myself off, moving on
Smiling, the pain and doubt still there
Making their home in my heart and soul

Beaten so far down this time, defeated
I struggle to find my way back up
Just when I take a step ahead
Pain and doubt come back to visit me

Weary of taking care of myself
Hear my plea; take care of me for now
Weary of making decisions alone
I am weary, well I am just weary

Others do not understand, my friend
They think I should forget
Pretend that nothing happened to me
My life not taken seriously

No appreciation for the grief I feel
Not grief over him or the marriage
Grief because a part of my soul has died
And grief because I let it happen.

No one to listen to my feelings
Or the words I speak from my heart
Embarrassment is their reaction
They turn away from me speechless

Can’t they realize that at this time in my life
No response or advice is needed
My longing, please someone hear my voice
Know my world at the moment, alone and empty

Copyright © 2007 Sylvia A. Feeley All Rights Reserved

Mother's Day

Mother’s Day was okay. My son and I had another couple of conversations and he actually wished me a Happy Mother’s Day, for the first time in years. It actually made me feel good and gives me hope that perhaps we are in a process that will allow us to work out our differences. That is what I would like to happen. But for the time being I am going to let him take the lead and not try to force the issue. Right now we are taking baby steps. My mother was on my mind yesterday. It is hard for me to realize that she died five years ago, May 3, 2002. After all that time, I still find myself ready to pick up the telephone to call her. I wrote this back in February and posted it on my other blog. I thought it was worth reposting for Mother’s Day.

This is for my mother, Ethelyne Inez (Becky) Reynolds, April 3, 1921 – May 3, 2002.

I never realized how strong my mother was until she passed away and I took a good look at our lives. She worked hard and was the glue that held our family together for many years. My father stopped drinking when I was thirteen and by then the damage to our family was evident. She never stopped loving him and stood by him through all the trials and tribulations of their life. She continued to work and she supported him in all that he chose to do. Even if it meant moving again and we did several more times. Divorce is a word that I never heard mentioned in our home. She stayed beside him until he passed away.

As she grew older, I had expectations of her that she could no longer fulfill. I expected her to do the things she did when I was growing up. I expected her to cook meals, clean the house, bake pies and cakes and all the other things she did. I did not see her as growing older, I saw my mother as she use to be. I began to realize how my mother felt as I aged and started to slow down myself. My expectations were too high for her to meet. I thought about these things for many months and knew I had to tell her what I had come to realize and ask her to forgive me for setting those expectations for her. To tell her that I understood why she could not do the things I expected of her. Although she had her share of illnesses, her health was okay in 2001 and she moved to Tennessee to live with my sister. I delayed telling her the things I needed to say. Thursday, May 2, 2002 came around and for some reason I knew I had to talk to her and tell her how I felt. I delayed once again and intended to call her on Friday morning.

A good friend of ours dropped by for a visit that morning. We sat at the kitchen table, talking and the telephone rang. I answered and my sister said I do not know how to tell you, but mother died in her sleep last night.

What I am trying to say by writing this is do not put off talking to a loved one when you know you must. Make it a priority to talk, do not delay for any reason, no matter how important you think it may be. Nothing is as important as telling someone you love how you feel and to say you are sorry or whatever it may be you have to say. Since then I have talked to her, even though she is no longer here. My only regret is that I did not say those things to her before she died. I know that she heard me and I have found peace in that.

The Last Week

If by chance you read my other blog, Life in General and Other Things, you know that I have a small problem with my fingers (numb from a pinched nerve) and allergies so I have not been writing or posting for the last week. In addition, I have not been in a very good place mentally for the last week. It took a comment from Scout to jar me out of the “funk” I am in. She simply asked how I was and that she missed my posts. Thank you Scout. I wish there was another word to use other than “I” since it seems so self-centered to continually use “I” but I have not found another word for “I”. (Here “I” go again.) For the past week it has been difficult for me to be positive about life and the things going on in mine now and I did not want to get better. I wanted to wallow in self-pity and did. How’s that for being honest. I did not want anyone to tell me things will get better and that things will work out. I know they will and I know that they will work themselves out. Now with that said and out of the way, I am going to do better and get back into my routine of writing and working through issues. My son and I are not on the best of terms and just this week we actually “talked” using IM. It is strange that we can talk this way rather than when face to face, but at least we talked. That is a good thing and I am grateful for that.

I am also grateful that God loves me and I am alive. I am grateful that with time, all things get better. I am grateful that no matter how “down” and depressed I get, I do not drink nor use drugs. I know this is a short list of things to be grateful for today but that is it for now.

An Admission

I am going to digress a bit. I have been drug (illegal drugs) free since 1985 and alcohol free since 2002. I cannot tell you the number of days or the exact date I became clean, I just know that I am. I never voiced out loud the fact that I am an addict and an alcoholic until 2007. I was ashamed and afraid that people would think less of me if they knew and I was afraid that I would lose my job. Since I was in denial about my addictions, when I did stop, I did it alone and that was wrong. I should have gone to AA or gotten help from some source. But being the stubborn, bull headed person I was, I had to be strong and do it by myself to prove to me that I could overcome those addictions. How’s that for being egotistical. I have never been a person that could ask for help when I really needed it. I had a persona to maintain as being the strong one because everyone told me I was the strong one. If I asked for help they would see me as weak and I could not let that happen. We all need help and encouragement from people who understand addictions and only someone that has an addiction can understand the feelings we have. What I am trying to say is do not go it alone, reach out for help and support.

Not Writing For A Few Days

I have not been in the mood to write in the past few days. We had another police officer killed in the line of duty this week. It came only a few hours after the candlelight vigil marking the one year anniversary of the last officer killed. Both of these officers were in their early thirties and from all the tributes and comments were a credit to the police force and the community.

My Grateful Day

Today is my grateful day because I need to remind myself. As always the first thing on the list:

I am grateful that God loves me no matter what.

I am grateful that spring is here and the weather is warmer.

I am grateful for my life.

I am grateful for the squirrel I saw sitting in a tree, eating an acorn.

I am grateful when I wake up in the morning that I have been blessed with another day on God’s earth.

I am grateful that I do not drink on this day.

I am grateful that my mother saw me clean and sober before she passed away.

I am grateful for “Confetteria Raffaello Almond Coconut Treats by Ferrero (Pure Pleasure without Chocolate)”.

I am grateful for the Planet Earth Series on Discovery Channel.

I am grateful that I am “green”.

Digression - Be Honest

This is not really about my addictions and then again, maybe it is. I wrote it several months ago and have not posted it on my other blog. For some reason, I felt today that I should post it on my addictions blog.

Being Honest

Any challenges I have are merely passing events, and all really is well in my world.By Louise Hay

For me this quote should read, Any challenges I have are merely passing events, and all is beginning to go well in my world.

I have tried to convince others and myself that all is well by putting a positive spin on every thing I write and say about my life. I thought that perhaps by doing that, it would make everything okay. I am tried of glossing over my existence and lying to myself and to you that all is well. The truth is that I know I am still a mess. One other truth is that I have to keep working until all really is well in my world.

If I quit lying about how my life is going and be brutally honest, then perhaps I can work through the decisions that I have to make and not be afraid to make them or offend the people around me. The people around me are the biggest reason that not all is well in my world. I know that I have a choice to stay or to go. My choice is to go. Maybe then I will have what I pray for every night, peace in my soul.

I put up a good front by smiling, pretending, and not telling the truth about my life. I have been married multiple times and each time those marriages failed. I share in the responsibility for the failures in that I found people I thought I could fix and turn them into my perfect mate. No one is perfect, most of all me, and another person sure cannot make anyone else perfect. I suppose I wanted the little white cottage with a picket fence and they do not exist. As with everything in life, you have to build that cottage and keep working on it so that is stays in good repair. If you do not work on the cottage, then it will fall into disrepair and become inhabitable. My cottages became inhabitable.

I was an enabler in my marriages. I gave my husbands the permission, in fact, I give that permission to everyone, to treat me anyway they wanted to. I gave them material things so that they would love me. What I did not realize at the time was that they should love me for me and not what I gave them. I think that part of the problem stems from my childhood in that I never felt loved or wanted by my parents (here we go again, blaming the parents). I know that they loved me because I was their child, which is different than loving me for me. I am no different from others, I need to be loved and needed. This is not to say that I have to have someone in my life since I am content without that and I enjoy being by myself.

Quotes:

You must take personal responsibility. You cannot change the circumstances, the seasons, or the wind, but you can change yourself. That is something you have charge of. By Jim Rohn

Depression loses its power when fresh vision pierces the darkness. By Peter Sinclair

Most of the time I like myself but at times I can’t stand me, especially when I am weak and indecisive and afraid to offend others by not speaking the truth about what I want to do with my life. This is a bad habit developed over years and years and one that is hard for me to break. Perhaps this is the cause of all the anger written about in another post. I was angry at myself; therefore, I became angry at everything and everyone. I have gone too far in the opposite direction by being too passive and not getting angry at anything or anyone. I keep all those feelings locked behind a wall, because I do not want to offend. I have to find the middle ground. I know now why people did not like me very much. It was because I did not like me and if I did not like me, then how can others.
I have always kept my true feelings bottled up for fear that, if anyone knew how I really felt, they would not like me or want me around. Here is that needy feeling again. I always felt that when people “needed me” it was because they wanted me to do something for them. I suppose what I am trying to say is that I want to be needed just because. I want to be needed just to be there for them, not because they want something.

The Mix

Shortly after that episode, I once again left this marriage and moved on. There was so much more that happened in that relationship that it would take me a very long time to go into the details. It was not a good thing and there are no good memories from it. None at all. After this marriage ended, I added drugs to the mix.

(This is an excerpt from a blog entry that I never posted).
I “cut loose” at the age of 27 that I could do the things I felt I had been cheated out of during my childhood and early adulthood. I felt I had missed so much by having to be an adult when I was only a child. When he was seven, I left him at my mothers to live and he stayed there until the age of thirteen. BIG MISTAKE!!!! During that time, I still had contact with him and would visit often but because of the things that I was doing at the time, I couldn’t have him live with me. I felt so much guilt over leaving him with my mother, that I used material things to buy his love and never said no to him. Another big mistake because he became so use to that solution he feels it should continue today.

I have apologized to him many times and asked for his forgiveness for the damage that I caused and he still will not let go of the past. He will not accept any responsibility for his actions, mistakes or failures. It is always someone else who is to blame. Maybe it is because it is easier to blame others than to feel you have failed.

The thing that makes me want to cry is that I see so much of myself in him before I made changes in my life. The anger, drinking too much, blaming others for my mistakes and failures, the list could on. When I look in the mirror, I see my son as I was before.
(End of excerpt)

I had made friends with several people that I worked with and eventually moved in with them. I started out smoking pot. We always had the best because one of my “friends” boyfriends was dealing and he would not settle for anything less than the best. How’s that for being discriminating. We also were able to get diet pills called “black beauties” that would keep you up for a couple of days. There is always “the doctor” in a town that will write the script for you.

The Beginning

This will be an ongoing journal and a post may seem to stop in the middle or at the wrong place, but will continue in the next. I hope that I do not bore you with these details but they are a part of the madness of my addictions.

I did not start drinking until I was 21 years old. I do not remember ever sneaking a drink from my parent’s glasses when they had a gathering. In fact, I do not remember doing much of anything before I was 21 except working hard and having to be an adult even though I was only a child. I do remember my father drinking from the time I was three until I was thirteen. It is not a pleasant memory. I suppose you could say I followed in his footsteps.

When I started drinking, I went straight for the hard stuff, bypassed the beer completely (did not like the way it tasted). I remember going to a Christmas party at my boss’s home and drinking things I cannot even pronounce and smoking a cigarette. On the way home, my first husband hit me in the mouth, not because I drank alcohol but because I smoked a cigarette. When we reached home and he went to sleep, I called my parents to come and get my son and me. I left that day and never went back. I divorced him and “moved” on to the next abusive man. It is strange how I always seem to choose the abusive man. I never saw my father physically abuse my mother so I do not know why I choose them. Maybe it was or is some deep-seated emotion or feeling that I needed to be punished for something I did. I know that is not true but that is how I suppose I felt at the time.

I met my second husband through a friend (some friend). Guess what he did for a living. He worked in a liquor store. We partied hard, he encouraged me to try all kinds of liquor, and I did. At that time, my choice was gin. He also taught me that it was best not to mix the alcohol with anything since it was the mix that would make you sick. I learned the lesson well. As I said in the first post, I was the best at my addiction and gave it my all. I progressed to the point that I drank over a fifth a day and hid it well. No one knew, except my husband since he provided the liquor, that I was drinking that much. I worked everyday, never drank at work, and kept up appearances. You have to remember this was in the 60’s and things were a lot different then. I got a break and did not work for several years and during that period, I would get up and have a breakfast of gin and tonic. I would drink all day and into the night. Every day.

We lived together and had to pretend we were married and we eventually did get married. As I said before I was a mean drunk and so was he. We had physical fights; I still have the scars to prove it. The more we fought, the more I drank to drowned out the feelings I had. I remember how bad the hangovers were. I remember how I lied and denied, said hurtful things to people, how I hurt inside and how I continued to drink more and more thinking I could drown out the feelings. I also ignored my child and my family. Nothing was important to me except, the drinking. On my 27th birthday, I drank so much gin and tonic and martinis that I was violently ill that night. I remember sitting on the bathroom floor with my head hung over the commode and vomiting until I thought I would died. The result of this episode was that I never drank gin again but started drinking whiskey.

My “Quit Smoking” Blog Journal (Renamed My Addictions)

I was going to stop smoking on Sunday and started this journal. I did not stop as of today. I found another excuse to continue. I wanted to post this so that my blog friends in recovery will know that if I say to them, I understand, I do because I am in recovery as well. As time goes on, I will share more about my addictions and as you can see in the third paragraph, I have had many of them. The first addiction was alcohol. I started drinking alcohol at the age of 21 and continued until the age of 60. ( I will be 64 in August of this year.) I started drinking to avoid my life and the problem with that was it did not work, but I continued drinking anyway. As my other addictions developed, the alcohol stayed. As I stopped one, I continued to drink and found something else to go along with it. I was a mean drunk and the cost was high.

Day One - Sunday, April 8, 2007

I have decided, once again, that I will quit smoking. I know all the reasons why I must quit, but the truth is I really do not want to. However, I am quitting as of today. I only have two cigarettes left and when they are gone, out come the Commit Lozenges. I have them ready. I quit back in May of 2006 and did not smoke until September of 2006. I used the excuse of “my nerves” to start smoking again. I was going through a rough time and needed a crutch. My husband quit at the same time I did and he has weathered our problems without smoking. He is tolerating my smoking but is encouraging me to quit again. Bless him, he means well but each time he mentions my smoking, I get upset. It makes me feel like I am weak that I cannot give up cigarettes and that is far from the truth. As I said the truth is, I just do not want to quit.

I thought that perhaps by writing in a journal and expressing my feelings about quitting and sharing them with my blog friends, I would have success. We will see if this works. I think that if I share with the “world”, I will be too embarrassed to admit failure. Maybe, maybe not.

I have been told that I have an “addictive personality” and did some research and if there really is such a thing, I am a perfect example. I have had many addictions in my life. Alcohol, drugs, reckless spending, gambling, smoking. As I manage to stop one addiction, I find something to replace it. My addictions are a way of avoiding the truth of my life, a way to dull the pain and hurt I feel, to deny they exist. That is how I see smoking. It is my “addiction” of choice now. I have a problem understanding how I can not drink alcohol, not use drugs, stop spending, stop gambling but I cannot quit smoking. Is it because I think it is the least harmful of my addictions and that I cannot find another one to take its place? Addiction is a lifelong struggle. I give my all to addictions just as I do with everything I undertake in life. I am the best at each of them. As I sit here typing, I feel that perhaps people will think, how trite, only smoking, that is not a “real” addiction. I would beg to differ since I know what addiction is. Addiction never goes away. It is something that you manage from day to day.

I have just reread the first paragraph and have mixed feelings about the last few lines. I think the real truth is that if I give up this addiction, I will have to face the pain and hurt and can no longer deny them. I have done a very good job of hiding them all these years.