Sunday, May 26, 2013

Chipping away...

I believe that if you want something you must work for it. Good things seldom come overnight without blood, sweat and tears being shed. Often, in the pursuit of reaching a goal, obstacle blocks are placed in the middle of the path.

In my attempts to create the support group, OARS F&F Group, I’ve reached many obstacle blocks along the way. At first it was a trial and error sort of thing. I started the open page on Facebook as Immortal Alcoholic. After the open page started getting some momentum, I began receiving e-mails that more privacy was needed and that gave birth to OARS Family and Friends group on Facebook. But there were still more concerns with the unpredictability of the Facebook format.

Today, people who find themselves involved in the life of an alcoholic can find support on the independent site, OARSFFGroup.ning.com. This is an independent site which can only be joined via invitation. Although joining is easy since the invitation link is published in many places, the posted content is monitored for signs of disrespect, judgment and criticism — which are just not tolerated.

You might be surprised what you see if you visit the site. If you don’t have any experience with an alcoholic, you might even be shocked. There are videos, pictures, poems, songs, and links nestled in with the posts that support whoever is in need of a virtual hug. As we went along creating this site and watching it grow, I realized that we needed more. Virtual hugs and understanding was just not enough.

One member was facing an especially critical event and was alone. Her alcoholic father was dying in the hospital. She had no family to hold her hand. No friend offering encouragement. No person to talk to who could relate to her dilemma. If she had not been so geographically far away, I would have run to her and provided a shoulder to cry on, an objective listener when medical jargon was provided, and someone to sit by the hospital bed so she could take a much needed nap. But I could not be there and she was alone. Oh, she posted on OARS every step of the way. The entire group reached out and provided words of encouragement which helped her immensely -- yet – she was alone.

My goal has always been to take OARS to the next level by creating LIVE meeting which would provide an opportunity for members to network and form one-on-one relationships. The meetings would be informational with speakers relating to whatever topic was on the agenda. There would also be an element of fun. As a person involved with an alcoholic, laughter doesn’t always come easy and even something as simple as reading the newspaper, requires planning.

My obstacle block for having live meetings was a very common issue – MONEY. An event such as the one I wanted would require funding and I was barely making my website cost commitment through donations on my GoFundMe.com site. (http://www.gofundme.com/17t82w)  Someone referred me to an organization called Pollination Nation which offers grants to individuals who want to make positive changes in the world. I thought it couldn’t hurt to apply; after all, I had heard the word “no” before and was still alive. What was the worst thing that could happen??

I submitted my paperwork and within a very short time I received the e-mail telling me I had been approved for a grant! (www.thepollinationproject.org/grants-awarded-page/may-2013/) I could hear a large corner of that obstacle block as it cracked and fell out of my path. It isn’t a large amount of money – just enough to organize a meetings (possibly two) and that’s about all. BUT, it is a start and maybe a start is all I need to build OARS Live into what I dream it could be. Maybe I can help a few people connect, and those few will connect with some other people, and the next thing you know – we have hundreds or even thousands – of people connecting everywhere.

Imagine if you were that woman with her husband in the hospital and someone was right by your side. Can you envision how different it might feel if there were a person to just go get you a cup of coffee? Imagine, if you can, how it might feel to not be “alone” during a crisis.

The first ever OARS goes LIVE meeting / workshop will be held at the end of June on The Outer Banks of North Carolina. The topic will be “Survive and Thrive”. Guest speakers will include an addiction therapist and a career counselor. There will be a light lunch and many opportunities for networking. Tentatively the fun element will be a lot of laughter lead by a Laughter Yoga coach. The goal of this first meeting is to provide information, entertainment and, most importantly, lots of connecting. Each person in attendance should leave the event with the names of three other people with whom they feel they can relate.

The monthly meetings will each have a different topic with different speakers relating to the topic. If I have enough money in the budget, I hope to video the event (while trying to not expose the participants) and put it out on a webcast. But, I’ll have to wait and see.


Corners of the obstacle block are falling off and I can see that if I just keep chipping… the block will disappear. 

Monday, May 13, 2013

Every 19 minutes...

By the time I finish writing this post three children will have died as a result of drug or alcohol abuse.

I had a wonderful Mother’s Day. My daughter, granddaughter and great-granddaughter all went out for breakfast and then got mani-pedies. I hadn’t been out in a while and being with "just the girls" was a great way to relax and I even found myself laughing.
Mother’s Day is always a little hard on me since my son’s death via alcoholism. There is this part of me that is missing. I miss having him call me at the crack of dawn and say “Maw!!! Happppy Mother’s Day! Aren’t you happy I made you a MOM!” He was my first child and so he always claims the rights to being the one who made it appropriate for me to be called a Mom. His younger sister says she gives my title “staying power.” Meaning another child means a strong hold to motherhood. Not sure if I really "get" her theory, but sibling rivalry can sometimes be endearing even when it makes no sense.

Now that my son has died a senselessly, his voice is always in my head. I hear him over and over again. And I miss him so much that sometimes it is unbearable. I’m told that it gets easier. If that’s going to happen I wish it would just hurry up and take place because sometimes the pain is as fresh as it was the day he passed.
There are a lot of mothers and a few fathers in the OARS Family and Friends of Alcoholics Support Group. (www.OARSFFGroup.ning.com) They find comfort in communicating with others who know the emptiness of losing a child. They know the helplessness of watching your child walk down a path that can have no good end. It doesn’t really matter if the child is 40 or 14, to a mother a child is always a child no matter how old the child may be.  The pain of the loss is the same. To join the group go here:

http://oarsffgroup.ning.com/?xgi=4R6sAeUek4uZ9X

The inherent paternal instinct is to protect the child above all else. But how does a parent trust and let their child grow into adulthood when the dangers are all around? Should we wrap them in bubble wrap and attach an ankle device that monitors their every move?
I think Dr. Phil might have the right idea. You just do everything you can to protect them. Do everything you can do and then do some more. If you suspect that your child (teen) is involved in drugs and/or alcohol, you must invade their privacy; track their cell phone; lock up your liquor and medicine cabinets; check out their friends; watch for fluctuations in their grades; and get them into counseling.

One child dies every 19 minutes. One life that could have been a teacher; President of the United States; inventor of backpack jet propulsion for everyday use; scientist who discovers a cure for Duchene’s Muscular Dystrophy or Autism; author of a Pulitzer Prize; or an outstanding ice cream cone scooper or coffee barista. It doesn’t really matter what they might have become. What matters is that they won’t have a chance to be anything other than a statistic of how many dead children we accumulate in an hour.
I have been a supporter of the Hollywood and Vine Recovery Center's upcoming fundraising event. They have already been able to help one of my followers by providing recovery services for the child of the follower. They were proactive and speedy in making sure that one specific child would not become a sad statistic. I am grateful that, even though I don’t know who either the parents or child are, they got the help they needed. Their website is:

Being in the throes of parenting a teen-ager has always been exasperating. I don’t know what happens when a child begins to reach the magical “teen years”, but it can seem as though your child was snatched in the middle of the night and replaced with a pod person. Reason and logical seem to no longer exist. Parenting a teen by using reason and logic often feels futile. When drugs or alcohol is added to the equation the chaos magnifies beyond understanding.

There is no such thing as too much knowledge. If you have questions for a professional who deals with addicted children on a daily basis, Dr. Gloria Montgomery can help. On Wednesdays between 3 and 5 pm (Pacific Time), you can go to www.RMCONAIR.com and join in the “Expect a Miracle CARE FOR KIDS” live radio and internet stream radio. Dr. Montgomery will answer your questions. There is also live entertainment and interesting interviews. This is a “home grown” program, so if it feels a bit unprofessional that’s because these people are not performers. They are real people working in the real work of doing everything they can to help addicted children. No frills here. Just facts.
I started writing this post at 8:30am and it is now 10:00am. It’s been 90 minutes and at least four children have died.

Tuesday, May 7, 2013

Who's life is it?

As the spouse of an end-stage alcoholic, people often have a misconception of my marriage. Many times I hear about how much I must love Riley in order to stand by him the way I do. Love is a funny word. There are all kinds of love and I do love him, but I am not a wife in a true sense of the word. I am also not in a marriage that I would really consider as traditional.

In my opinion, a traditional marriage is one where two people join together to create a partnership where they work equally towards a happy life. In a traditional marriage major decisions are made after discussions between the couple until they come to a mutually agreed upon conclusion. The responsibility for financial obligations is shared even if there is only one person working for a paycheck. Communication is open and flows freely. Each person supports the other during times of hardships or ill health. The partner/spouse will be the one person you can trust without doubt. There will be arguments, disagreements, frustrations and even heart-break. But, at the end of the day, they will always be a solid unit.
So maybe I live in a dream world. Maybe that’s how marriage is only SUPPOSED to be but in reality maybe it never is. I don’t know for sure, but if I was in a traditional marriage I think I would feel so differently than I do at this moment. I don’t feel like Riley’s wife. I am care-taker or more of a sister or mother to him or, maybe, even a type of personal manager. There is no desire for anything remotely resembling romance. There is no sharing of hopes and dreams, no working toward a jointly desired end goal. There are just two people living in the same house with absolutely opposing opinions and lifestyles.

In spite of all of that, I have a life. It doesn’t matter to me that my life is in conflict with what Riley wants. Riley made choices that have put him in the situation he is in today. That was his life to screw up or to succeed as he deemed fit. I also made choices that have changed the path of my life. They were my choices to make for my life. I own my decisions, good or bad.
I do not feel that Riley has the authority to make decisions for me. My brain is not toxin saturated and I am still reasonably sane and competent. To have him make decisions with me jointly is like asking my three-year granddaughter what dress to wear today. I might end up wearing a princess outfit, complete with wand and tiara, to a job interview. Unless I was applying for a job at Disneyworld, I doubt I would be hired. The concept is the same. Riley’s decision might seem perfectly reasonable to him, but in reality may not be appropriate.

In the quest for some kind of “traditional normalcy”, I might ask Riley his opinion and even consider putting it into action. I believe that we all want that sort of connection with our spouse. We may even strive to find it in every conversation or action. We search for something that says, “I’m the most important person in my spouse’s life.” We are grasping at straws because we know in our heart and soul that the most important thing in our alcoholic spouses life is getting and maintaining a foggy mind.
Spouses of addicted persons must stand up for themselves and remember that they are individuals and they must make decisions based on sound, reasonable, rational judgment.  That means that the alcoholic spouse doesn’t have a right to make demands or force upon us their need for the appearance of a healthy, happy marriage. Usually marriage to an alcoholic spouse is neither healthy nor happy when the non-alcoholic is constantly treating the alcoholic as though he/she had the capability of being of sound, rational mind.

Alcoholics are human beings and even though the brain may be broke. They don’t think it is. They truly believe that they are capable of the “traditional” marriage. They long for it. They need it. Or at least they need the appearance of it. I respect that it may be what they need, but I do not need a broken brained individual to decide what clothing to wear, who my friends are, or when I should go to the doctor.

Recently I heard a wife say that her husband wouldn’t LET her friends drive her to an event. The husband is an alcoholic who drives drunk. He wanted to drive her to her destination.  I wonder in what world this would be acceptable? If Riley said that to me, I would tell him to back off. I would tell him I would not allow him to drive me around the corner, let alone to an appointment. I would remind him that he is not allowed to make decisions about my life.
My life belongs to me. Although I may include Riley in discussions about decisions, the bottom line is all on my shoulders. I don’t always make the right decision. Sometimes my decisions put me in an awkward, difficult situation. But the decision was mine. I value my life and will not knowingly leave it in the hands of a drunk driver or any other person whose brain doesn’t function in reality.

I ask all my readers to please do not get into a car with a drunk driver behind the wheel. Value your own life enough to want to keep yourself safe from harm. Take control of your life and respect your own decisions. Listen to that little voice in your head that says – you are worthwhile and you can decide on your own. Let’s not any of us leave decisions to people who may love us, but can’t understand logic or live in reality.