I received this anonymously and wanted to share it with you. I pray that this person, and all of us, remember that in our powerlessness we can find our strength.

Till Next Time -

Your Humble Road Warrior

POWERLESS/UNMANAGEABLE

I used to think powerlessness over my addiction (crack) meant I was powerless after I took the first hit. Today, to me, it means I’m powerless not to take the first hit unless I take action to not take it.

Though I accept mentally, the concept of addiction, the truth is, inside I resent having to do the things I have to do to stay…

I beat myself up on a regular basis. I do. I think lots of us in recovery do. I’ve been beating myself up today in fact and it’s got me thinking about why. Maybe it’ll be something new to beat myself up about. I just seem to have this knack for making very short sighted decisions and for refusing to act on something until the 11th hour.

That’s where I am right now; the 11th hour. Well not really. Rent isn’t actually due till the 5th so there is still time to pull a rabbit out of my hat, but honestly, how…

A couple of times a day, first thing in the morning and the last thing at night, my kitten, Grace, goes completely crazy. Her back arches. Her tail gets bushy. She gallops around sideways. She chases shadows around the room. For about half an hour no power on earth deters Grace from running across the bed, under the dresser, down the hall and into the kitchen, back up the hall, under the bed and back.

When she’s finished Grace wants to surf the internet or type an e-mail message. No deterrent or diversion keeps her from insisting on walking on my…

They do not have good coffee in Idaho Falls, Idaho. I have not had a decent cup of coffee since I left Boise on Friday. I love good coffee. I don’t remember where I heard the description but I like it “black as the devil, hot as hell, sweet as an angel and pure as love.” All I was able to find in Mormonland was lukewarm, bitter, dirt water. To their credit the hotel made incredible biscuits and gravy. So I had those every day.

What they do have in Idaho Falls are meetings. Before I go on I should acknowledge…

Background:

1. I have severe, persistent, treatment-resistant depression.
2. I lost my job, house, blah, blah, blah…
3. I am a recovering alcoholic, but it is the depression which often incapacitates me.
4. I support my lavish lifestyle with disability income and on-call work.
5. I am a very financially responsible person.
6. I purchased another home, within my price range and against all odds, 4 years ago.
7. Southeast Minnesota had disastrous, deadly flooding last August.
8. I had to gut my basement due to mold caused by water damage.
9. The state loaned me money, which I will have to pay back, to repair my home.
10. I started those repairs last week.
11. I now owe more on my home…

The longer I am clean and sober, one day at a time, the more acceptance I gain living life on life’s terms. I have a dear friend who always tells me, “It is what it is”, and this week-end I was given a three day tutorial in which to practice that bit of wisdom. On Friday night I went to my regular 12 step meeting and was intending to visit my “friend” afterward, as he attends a different meeting than I. There was no answer when I called so I went home. He called and said he wasn’t feeling well.…

by William Cope Moyers

I usually preface my advice with a short editorial comment about a current event related to addiction. Not today. Here are pleas for help that remind us all of the private tragedies that never make news, even though they happen to families across the country all the time.

Dear Mr. Moyers: My 53-year-old wife, a successful executive, relapsed after seven years of sobriety, and unfortunately, this time we will not get back together. I need to know “why.” I need to get inside the head of a drug addict. Do you know of any books or DVDs made…

Had this essay come out in Sunday’s Chicago Tribune, and I was amazed at the response. So, I thought I’d post it here and see if any of you had anything to say about what I had to say.

Age before beauty is true view

By Martha Woodroof

May 25, 2008

For me, 60 need not be the new 30. I’ve already been 30, and I prefer adventure to repetition.

I do still dance uncontrollably in grocery store aisles, but I’ve moved way beyond the person I was at 30. And I have no desire for anyone to take me as anything other than what…

As I was driving to the hospital, it was like the same, long drive I was taking to the bank on my way to work about sixteen months ago, when Bobbie notified me first about her cancer.

As I entered the hospital and took the elevator up to her room, the nurses came out shaking their heads at me. My legs weakened, and then they said it was too late. I refused to believe them. Eventually, I went into her room and said my final goodbyes and prayers. Her daughter, Shawn, came later.

Bobbie passed away on January 15, 2001, the holiday…

I was telling a friend about how my husband pushes all my buttons, and she asked me, “What are you doing with buttons?”

Funny, huh?

Then, I was reading today’s post on Daily Om, and it made a lot of sense:

Buttons are just soft spots that have been touched one too many times, and they symbolize some pain that needs to be acknowledged and healed. This may be a wound from childhood, or some recent trauma, that we haven’t adequately tended. Whatever the case, when our buttons get pushed, the person who most needs our attention and caring is us, and blaming…

In 1999, my wife, Bobbie, and I received the worst news any couple could imagine. Bobbie was diagnosed with cancer. We had been patiently waiting for test results for weeks to hear the sad news. I remembered my mother, who would always say, “No news is good news.” This sure rang true.

When we hear devastating news, we always remembered where we were when it was first announced. We all knew where we were when President Kennedy was assassinated. We all knew where we were when 9/11 occurred. It is etched in our minds forever.

Before I heard the fateful news about…

My 83 year old grandmother died last Tuesday. I’m riding along with my brother and his family to Idaho Falls, my home town, tonight to attend the funeral tomorrow. I love it that I can show up for my family now that I’m sober but I hate showing up for things like this. Just hate it. I wonder if that isn’t typical of addicts. We want to show up for the good stuff. We want to avoid the uncomfortable stuff. I don’t know. It’s true for me. I guess that’s kind of part of the deal though, isn’t it? The gift…

by Allen Berger, Ph.D.

Reviewed by Ginger B.

What a great little book! When I received the review galley for this book, I must admit that I said to myself, “Great! Another ‘How to’ recovery book. I’ve read so many of these, I could write one myself.” But my cynical attitude immediately started to shift as I began reading the introduction, in which Berger states that we, as addicts, do stupid things that are self-destructive and not in our best interest, especially in early recovery. He then writes, “So without further ado, here are my top twelve nominations for the stupid things we…

I really believe that sobriety is about living and let-living, forgiveness, tolerance, and getting along with others–and this certainly includes our neighbors.

That’s one of my neighbors in the picture. I just discovered that she took a recent stroll through my gardens, leaving huge holes where flowers used to be.

Sometimes, sobriety is a real challenge. . .

I’m learning something about myself…

I’ve really thought that I had this boundary thing down for a long time. After my first few Nar-Anon meetings, I thought I really got it. I just needed to think about what I needed and let my husband know what I needed, and voila! We’ve got boundaries.

I am also a little bit appalled at how long it has taken me to realize that, no, I really didn’t get it.

With my car, for instance…I have gradually, slowly restricted how much I’d let my husband use my car. When we first got married, he had his own…

Meditation is a suggested tool in my program of recovery. It sounds like a fabulous idea. So I listen intently for instruction. In meetings I hear people chat about “hitting their knees” every morning and every night. I have flashbacks to the movie, A Christmas Story, and entertain a sudden urge to dress in a bunny suit and blurt out, “I want a Red Rider BB Gun!”

Other members discuss their “quiet spaces” where they just listen to their breath and commune with themselves. They report this improves their conscious contact with their higher power. When I try this approach, I find…

I will not go as far as saying that I have had the worst luck of the draw, or the most difficult and saddest life ever. Many have had worse. Many have had better. Some have lived with little pain and grief. I recommend writing your own story. This kind of therapy is a powerful remedy to depression and sorrow. My words I’m writing are not in competition with others—there only my own true words. My interest in writing the following story is to help people identify their own problems similar to mine. I hope it helps those who might…

People always say that life is like a circle. It just keeps going around and around and that is the circle of life. I think maybe life looks like a circle when you view it from the top but when you turn a life on it’s side life is a spiral. Either it’s an upward spiral or it’s a downward spiral. Since I got sober I am almost always traveling uphill. Lately though I seem to share a mantra with Meg Ryan in that great movie, “French Kiss,” when her character is in therapy to overcome her fear of flying.…

I was at a yoga class a few days ago when the teacher reminded me of a nasty science experiment with boiling frogs that I’d forgotten all about. If you throw a frog in boiling water, it will jump out immediately. If you put a frog in tepid water, however, and slowly raise the heat to boiling, the frog will stay in the pot and let itself be cooked to death. (Yes, I know that Snopes says it isn’t so, but let me have the metaphor for a moment, ok?)

At a Nar-Anon meeting a few weeks ago, a woman who is…

I cam across this recently and it touched my heart. May it touch yours.

Till Next Time -

Your Humble Road Warrior

We can’t escape problems and negativity. Escaping just brings denial and suppression - we continue to carry the problem with us. Ironically, it is our lack of acceptance and resistance to the problem that creates the pain. Resistance builds up an energy wall or block that, if not discharged, gets suppressed into the body. These blocks identify places where we have not enough understanding or love.

For health, we must work through what we seek to avoid. How do we do this?…

May 21st has, for many years, been a hard day for me but today, in 2008, it weighs a little more, carries a bit more sadness and right now at 8:35 a.m., feels like it will be a very long day, indeed. You see, twenty years ago today, my mother died. And twenty years ago yesterday, I went out and got totally smashed instead of staying at my mom’s bedside.

My mother had battled ovarian cancer and had just passed her “five year” clearing when she started to have blurred vision. The cancer had spread to her brain and eventually metastisized…

by Courtney H.

I often long for the ability to time travel. I want to change what happened last year or ten years ago. I like to fantasize about the wonderful or awful things that will happen two to twenty years from now.

When I drank, one of my favorite things to do was to get good and plastered while staring at the wall thinking about how I was going to show them! The jury is still out on who ‘them’ consisted of and what I was going to show. The only thing that mattered during those fantasies was that I didn’t…

Five years ago I would not have been invited to participate on this website. I was loud and free with my views and feelings about addiction and recovery, but those views wouldn’t have helped anyone here. Today, those views and feelings couldn’t be more different. I’ve changed. I’ve grown. I’ve matured. I’m grateful.

There is a saying in AA, “We don’t shoot our wounded.” Until a couple days ago, I had never given those words much thought. But something happened. A fellow blogger with Borderline Personality Disorder received more than a couple critical comments on her blog recently. The comments weren’t…

Here’s the deal. I just finished the second draft of my second book, which has the working title, God Is. Now What? It’s basically about having a working faith in God outside of the confines of organized religion. The manuscript is up at my agents, but I’m frankly hungry for feedback. Below is a piece of the “Note,” which opens things up. I’d love to hear reactions just to this tiny portion. What I’m trying to do is be part of what I see as a change in our conversation about faith.

“One bright May morning my husband Charlie, who’d just read the…

When my husband is out of the house for whatever reason, I feel this huge weight lift off my shoulders. Just writing that, I feel guilty. He spent the night with family last night after his latest drama, and I got so much done while he was gone. My house is cleaner. My car is cleaner. My dogs are happier. My head is clearer. I love him, and I miss him when he’s not around in some ways, but he really brings the drama and stress. When I have this kind of time to myself, I imagine what my life…

by Greg W.

I sat down with a couple reporters from a local TV station the other day to give an interview on prescription drug abuse hoping this time might be different. As I started to tell my abbreviated story for the camera, the reporter quickly tried to push me past the disease concept where I was explaining how alcohol and drugs had a different effect on me when ingested, than others who were using at my age. He wanted drug names, and fear-instilling war stories so they could go back and cut out three sensational sound bites to package together in…

I am a “scooter boy.” It’s my aunt’s term; not mine. But, there it is. My primary mode of transportation is a 49cc Chinese wonder machine that gets 80mpg and hits it top speed of 38mph in 34 seconds. And I love it. I love pulling up next to an SUV when I get fuel. I love that I can buy $100 worth of groceries and carry them home on it and I love that I am no longer dependent on my feet, my bike, and the bus to get around.

But yesterday I was coming home from taking the very responsible, very…

I’m rotten at doing anything with visuals, but I wanted to stick these up, because Shadow asked for them. There are six of these babies. They make it very hard for me to pay attention to what I’m supposed to be doing.

I’m back in the office and, to celebrate, my foxes brought out their kits. I went running (literally) around the office letting my very dignified and very mature colleagues know. They in turn came running (literally) into my office and we all stood around ogling this chubby furry creature  scarfing up my bird seed.

There are four of them, I hear. I was at the physical therapist’s (durn!) when the other three came out for a viewing. There was evidently more running and more ogling.

You know, life is good. It’s hard to come back to the office after doing nothing that…

beautiful boy - a father’s journey through his son’s addiction

by David Sheff

reviewed by Ginger Bauler

I started reading this book on a Saturday and couldn’t stop until I was finished on Sunday. This story of a father’s roller-coaster journey through his young son’s addiction to methamphetamines drew me in as no other memoir has done in a long time. To use adjectives such as compelling or riveting does not do justice to the task Sheff has taken on in this memoir. He openly shares with the reader his own drug use as a young man, his inappropriate fathering after an ugly…