Take two and call me in the morning.

Well, it’s official. I have high blood pressure. Shocking, I know. Being overweight, consuming an unhealthy diet, practicing a Type A personality, and possessing a genetic predisposition to heart disease did not spare me. (And let us not fail to acknowledge the Alcoholic mindset: stinkin’ thinkin’.)

The doctor, also a friend of Bill W., prescribed an antihypertensive and bedrest for a few days. At least until the danger zone is no longer my baseline BP. The headache and low ringing in my ears persist, but I am breathing a little easier and have less of that doomsday feeling. (And I’ve shed 8 pounds in the past two weeks between the intestinal issues of last week and the diuretic effect of the meds the past 3 days.) I have an appointment for a full work-up in a month. The doctor, in all his infinite wisdom about how the alcoholic mind works, only prescribed enough to get me through until my next visit. I think I may like this guy.

The events of the past week have given me an opportunity to touch base with a few friends in the fellowship, 4 of my siblings and my favorite April Fool. The effect of actually letting them know what was going on with me and hearing their genuine concern and unrestrained support has been calming. It is also somewhat of a source of shame that I do not reach out to them unless I am experiencing discomfort or looking to engage in drama (other than my own). Since “rising from the dead” in mid-2008, they have been nothing short of amazing in their love and support of me. Yet I have kept them on the periphery. Character defects at work.

I shut down my Facebook page 2 weeks ago. This was actually a well thought out action, though not necessarily well executed. It spurred concern from my family and friends. The only two I informed of this decision were my son and my baby girl (firstborn and I were not “friends” through tremendous insight on her part). I did not want them to think the worst (i.e., that I was drinking) or that I was reacting to anything they posted...blah, blah, blah. Maybe I should have given those who love me a "heads up" also. I actually thought about it, but didn't want it to become a drama. Least of all, my drama. And if I'm going to be honest, I guess I didn't think it would matter. I didn't think I would matter. Wrong, again. (Doggone shortcomings.)

My purpose was simply to remove a source of “all about me” reactions. Meaning: I was reading a lot into status updates and taking them personally or using it as a way to divert my attention through the drama of others. By removing that temptation, I have thwarted the formation of new resentments or the perpetuation of old ones. Ahhh.

The truth of the matter is: anyone, with whom I have a “real” relationship that was also my Facebook “friend”, deserves more personal communication from me. And I have phone numbers or email addresses with which to do that. The superficial means of staying in touch that this forum provided was actually a means of avoidance. I was living in a virtual world. Not the real world. So, by closing down that method of communication, I will be forced to have real conversations about real issues, not maintain or support the persona that is/was reflected in the virtual world. And I will be inspired to get out of self by initiating contact with those I love, just for the sake of catching up. It may have taken almost two weeks and a health crisis to do so, but I believe I am on the right road. (Now, if I could just bring myself to quit visiting the blog of APS [Antisocial/Psychopath Sister].)

I think this all comes back to acceptance. I’m not sure how yet. I haven’t gotten that far in the processing. But there’s this niggling feeling, in the pit of my stomach.

You know the one.

And there’s medicine for that, too.

Thank you for paying me a 12 Step call.

Don't cross THIS line.

Date and I went to the meeting in Long Beach tonight that I cancelled 2 weeks ago. It was nice to take an evening drive and spend some time with my new friend. Outwardly he appears in a good place, or as good as he can be after the loss of his mother, and I think it did us both well to escape the city for a short time. This is a relatively new meeting a fair distance from home and I was looking forward to being anonymous. Well…if I didn’t believe it before, I certainly believe it now. It truly is a small world.

I was recognized and again called by name by someone I did not remember. It was a warm, instead of disorienting, feeling this time and I have made a mental note to pay attention to the friend requests I accept on Facebook. You never know who you’re going to run into. Seriously.

The uncomfortable moment came when I noticed that someone I have been trying to avoid and from whom I discourage communication was also there. I try not to avoid many people. I find it rude and hurtful. Yet, I just can’t shake this person. I feel smothered and just plain icky in his company. I haven’t heard from him in a couple of months, so I thought I had neatly gotten my message across without having to speak hurtful words.

But who was I trying to spare? Me, of course. My unreturned phone calls, ignored texts, and false interest in other things when we are in the same room served my purposes very well. I could easily blame him for not being intuitive, being clingy, or just plain creepy. What I can’t seem to do is look at how I am unable (or unwilling) to set boundaries. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that my sponsor and I talked about this very issue this morning over coffee. The irony of the meeting’s name, “Principles Before Personalities” and the speaker’s chosen theme, “Honesty” also did not escape my notice.

Why can’t I be honest about my interest (or disinterest) in a relationship, or how my willingness to remain involved at a level at which I was once comfortable has changed? Why do I find it so difficult to articulate my needs? Why do I fear a display of hurt feelings in response? Why do I assume that THAT response it the one I will receive? This is an issue with which I have made very slow progress, if any at all. My sponsor may say I’m being too hard on myself and that I have made progress setting boundaries, but tonight I feel as if I took a few steps backwards.

With this chance encounter, I fear there will be an attempt at renewed contact. My brain is in a twist. And my gut tells me it’s going to be there for a long time unless I just do the work. If I set my boundaries in a loving way and stay out of the business of how that affects the other person, aren’t I giving both of us a chance at growth?

Of course, I need to learn how to set healthy boundaries at the onset of a relationship. I see serious work in my future.

Thank you for paying me a 12 Step call.

It's only me...

I got to talk with my son last night. He is in the Navy and between his school schedule and his duties, it’s difficult to know when he’s available to chat. I texted him a couple of times over the last few days and received no response and that got the committee in my head started. What did I do, or not do to make him avoid me? Oh yeah…I’ve got it bad.

My mom used to call me and when I didn’t answer, she’d hang up. When I saw her number on the missed caller ID and no message was left, my mind would race to places way out there. I finally got her to start leaving messages so that I knew: 1) when she called, and 2) if it was a “hey, there’s something important we need to talk about” or “it’s been a while since we talked and I just wanted to catch up”. (Yes, this was more about me than anything else.) So her messages started and more often than not it sounded like this: “Hey Jul, it’s only Mom. I never know when to call you, so…um…give me a call when you have time, okay?”

It’s only been in my sobriety that I have begun to think about this as another extension of how unimportant she felt. It’s difficult to look at my part in that. Did I do what I could to show her exactly how valued she was? Probably not. Okay, definitely not. And I wish I could do it over again. But I can’t. So instead, I’m working on staying in touch with my children, accepting their limitations, strengthening my own feelings of self-worth, and trying to not project my insecurities on them. When I remember my mom and try to conjure her voice, it is that voicemail that is played in my memory. And I embrace it.

So my son and I did talk. And it was as wonderful as always. It wasn’t too long ago that he would have nothing to do with me, so I feel eternally blessed that we have the relationship we do today. It turns out he’s got a lot going on and didn’t want to rehash some of it with me. I did my best to reassure him that I won’t push if he just says that he doesn’t want to talk about that right now, but I will ask because what’s important to him is important to me. Only time will tell if he can ever trust me again. As I try to live my life based on integrity and principles, I will become a better mom, giving my children what I didn’t give to them for so long.

“When we knew better, we did better.” (Thank you, Pammie.)

Thank you for paying me a 12 Step call.

A precious gift.

Sometimes a day is just a day. Nothing out of the ordinary happens; nothing to inspire self reflection or offer opportunity for growth. Usually, I welcome those days. They give my mind a rest, and lately with all of the step work I’ve been doing, I was beginning to think there was no reprieve in sight.

Today was such a day. I just did what was in front of me. The morning rhythm that I have come to enjoy since I broadened my recovery community by blogging was interrupted by an early venture, but I’ve learned to be flexible. “Improvise, adapt, overcome”, (from the Clint Eastwood movie Heartbreak Ridge) has become my mantra when my mojo is threatened. It works. I just postponed my routine a little. No need to run amok. The remainder of the day was uneventful.

Then…

My baby called. (The youngest of 3) She is 17 years old. I was pleasantly surprised to hear from her during the week. I try to call each of them once each weekend (I’m trying not to smother them) and she & I had already spoken on Sunday. Usually the call times are arranged through text messaging. I know it sounds so impersonal, but when you have kids that grew up with text messages, sometimes it’s the most effective way to communicate. I arrange my schedule around theirs as much as possible for this call because it is about THEM, not me. For so long I put my needs first. They deserve to have their needs supersede mine now and for a long time to come. I do let them know they can call me anytime. Sometimes they do. Like today.

She had a rough day. Preceded by a rough night. Nothing she really wanted to talk about. I didn’t push. Sometimes kids just need to hear Mom’s voice, I guess. (I can’t get the image of me righting the crystal chick yesterday out of my mind!)

What a precious gift!

Thank you for paying me a 12 Step call.